thinking-time being what counts now

a poem by mil williams

my people, it’s true … that is, my family ♥️

we've had a lot of thinking-time you and i
more than meets the eye
more than the time that leads 
to sighs of abandon perhaps 
or perhaps not at all

i thought to call you many a time
and instead wrote rhymes too many for sure 
but what i yearn for now really really do
is just some doing-time instead 
where it's seeing you and talking that's the done 

not being read (or not as the case may be)
but speaking head-to-head 
of things that occupy humans when good 
and feeling stuff that's real 
without too many fears of tribal versions  

that's where the thinking-time i've had 
in your absence and now without the shouting
has led me to and it's funny but it's true 
since what i know for sure is the case
is that all i want is to succeed in the personal 

because that's what should count not taunt
and little of what we did all this time was good
and blame if it exists 
was on my side just as much as all of yours 
for having touched as i did 

and for caring to sit only 
on thrones of proclamation  
instead of reaching out my hand
like we were a band of musicians 
who knew full well that only music bodes well

but thinking-time sometimes does it 
where doing-time clouds the mind 
and muddies the sentient parts 
of the brain's direct connectors to the heart  
to such an extent 

that we aren't what we once were 
but only because work seemed the key
and the life we lost 
because of all that rigour and optimisation
seemed much less than its real value 

and that's true it is for sure
and now i realise it so fine 
and i realise the truth of it all this evening 
being the truth of my love for you
this evening now seeming to be so clear 

because it's our brains dearest friend 
and because of our blood
not despite our blood 
that we understood each other so deeply
and so i realise i do 

that my love for you 
is constituted out of the fact 
we not only are of the same blood
but because of this fact and where it's at
we have absolutely exactly the same brain 

the one and the other
and together what's fun
in the happiest of wins 
is that we cannot be anything we are not 
and together we are more than a dot on a timeline

or a grain of sand on a beach
near dublin's fair estuaries 
where the liffey still flows as life itself  
and where first my brain encountered that recognition 
i so yearned for all those decades 

in the brain you have 
of fabulous diversity and capable humanity
which being nothing less nor more 
than the story of real love 
everyone would treasure 

and some might even measure 
but not me at all not me my friend 
because you are immeasurable 
and it's a fact and an end
and that's where it's all at

and why i will always now doff my cap
to these ladies of the most true
and these thinkers of the most wise 
and doers of unlimited strengths 
that wend their ways 

like these irishwomen of historical acts 
who never having given up 
find that the bitterness of a loss never redrawn
finds its eventual reward 
in a gain of astonishing consequence 

where the pain experienced
is finally replaced 
by a pleasure as sheer as the cliffs of the west 
and where the affection and admiration 
of a blood more burnished than a fairie's gold

is good as it ever was to hold 
like that day we hugged ever so briefly and yet so long
because what we saw wasn't just the cousin in the other
but a bosom soul of the kindest and most clear 
in those few hours that we were verily near 

and it's true it is and now i see
that what we had that day 
was just being able to say and be understood 
without having to repeat or relate more than once
and just never twice ...

and so all i know now 
is that the professional will take me
away from where i was born 
but despite the fact that it's obviously not the norm 
i care more to mend and repair the personal with all 

if all are now ready to say this truth 
that whether we are angry or sad
or cruel or hard or mad or bad 
the family we are is as diverse as can be
and as the shiniest stars you ever did see 

and so this is what i want and this is where i go
to offer you all my hand and my soul 
whenever you wish this time to return me
the person you are and maybe now want to be 
both in equal measure and as equal treasure 

for whilst you may take the person out of family
difficult it is to take the family out of person 
and even when we struggle to accept each other 
one day quite fine 
i'll be your brother quite gladly 

and you'll be my sister too 
in couplets that rhyme beautifully 
as the moments we once measured
do honest and sincere become the moments we learn 
to treasure again ... without end 

mil xxx

aside

the human loom

From these notes …

does it have to do with what happened in the past?

or what happens in the future?

it’s to do with both

it’s a bit complex for everyone because it’s a human thing

well we are that’s true

i guess what you’re saying is we all need to show kindness and compassion to each other from now on
Mil Williams, 27th March 2024, Chester UK

… has come this poem:

the human loom

we're all bones at heart 
and blood in marrow 
and on the narrow and straight 
few of us are able to wait 

because all of us worth anything
are human as human can be 
and it's to sing out proud and loud
the facts of all our frailties 

and overwhelming loyalties 
to things we barely understand 
even when we're hand-in-hand 
and thinking we're close 

as ever we've ever been
where love is a rendition
of all that we've seen and saw and more: 
and everything and everyone 

then becomes this beautiful wondrous one 
where sat upon that mountain high 
we slowly allow ourselves to cry 
because it's true that you and me 

is only a small part of the whole equation 
like the equators of reason
and emotion's own avaricious longitudes
and the earth of incessant latitudes 

marking the x that tells us where 
our humanity actually lies 
and thus finds itself in turn
at the crossroads and junctions 

and intersections of all these truths
which confuse us mightily 
and hurt us sometimes tragically
as we attempt to duly understand 

the people we have in front of us 
and next to us 
and inside our heads 
as if sometimes they're trying  

and as if sometimes they're dying 
and occasionally as if 
it's ourselves who do the killing 
like the seeping of slow leak 

out of deeply political mistakes 
because politics above all
is what you and i and all of us 
do in family on each other  

as we attempt to be faithful to the other
and as we sometimes only wound the lover
even as friendships are what counts all told 
and their courage (sometimes sold) leads us clearly 

to embolden those we see all too dearly 
as we prefer to be seen 
without wearisome sighs 
but simply out of zero disguise: 
 
a transparent good 
recovered as we should 
and leaving us cleansed 
and totally expunged 

in newly wondrous 
sister- and brotherhoods 
where our humanity finally triumphs 
and wins over

the hardest of hearses 
and the maddest of curses  
into a much better place 
of more satisfactory race 

as we decide once again 
after terrible times and pain
to reach out each other's hands 
as bands of families 

and good women and men 
choosing eventually to offer
as gifts almost sacredly proffered 
being presented to the tribal heights 

where the compassion of the mind
and the kindness of the signs 
that once upon a time
did break like shallow refrain

and now can only reencounter
like meeting grand and mealtime fine 
and bread that's broken at eventides
in joyful remembrance of all that's true

where you and me and me and you 
mean many more than just us two
because after all
and when grand they call

our lives do impact 
on all the rest 
and whilst sometimes it's death we wish to find
if death i embrace thinking just for myself 

the reality of life 
is that none is an island as another man said
no human at all 
at all at all at all

and all our actions remain quite connected 
and all our fears are finally dissected 
and all our love is inevitably shared 
where in the end our family overcomes

instead of permitting 
that it might be overwhelmed  
forever and always 
lined and creased 

like the ageing man i once did feel 
and the life even recently 
i wanted to be deceased 
because that's what it is 

and that's what it's been
as being or not became the mightiest question
and dearest shakespeare was right as right 
in this so true and in other matters too ...

so all that's left for me to say 
is that compassion is a virtue 
and kindliness the best 
and whilst the words of forgiveness do wonders

what's the very best of all 
are the hugs that come naturally 
after decades of sadnesses 
and the embraces quite lost 

to all of time's winds 
and to the bad and wilful foolishness
of hatred's forces grossly mad
where insistences on any part 

just served to break finally 
the hearts of all our rivalries 
where they did only disperse 
like sounds of gears grinding in reverse 

instead of all these years 
being voices of gorgeous seers 
able to come together and around 
tables of leisure and agreeable sounds 

because exactly this is what i now give you
and exactly this is what i would like for you
and exactly this is where i'm now waiting
and just this very thing 

is where no hesitation 
remains to my mind
and only love is what i now feel 
for everyone and all around 

where everything is now unbound 
and life perhaps may finally resume 
as if a beautiful tapestry of light 
made by the sight of human loom

aside

linking up (and other matters related)

linking off is something to scoff
bound to raise a hackle or more 
linking out once made a space 
home and graciously so
linking now
into words galore 
allows us all
to set store quite rightly 
and so we do this thing quite fine
and so no longer do we rue
the things we left unsaid 
because speaking often 
and speaking face-to-face
is the only thing 
that will save this human race  

and so i'd like 
to try again 
to mend what's broke 
as said out loud
and as they did 
so proud and strong  
and quite without end 
like a world we all quoted  
never sure if at a price 
or just unkindly 
and wildly wounding 
or simply to treasure 
like some easy pleasure 
the realisation 
we could all be friends again 

because if we can't achieve this goal at home 
what chances do we have 
when we decide to roam 
and much much more 
further afield in meadows now blood 
where neighbourhoods aflaming
as they surely should not
lead us all to shallow blaming of others for lacking love 
because life is barely anything more 
than realising in time what's really in store 
and then remedying the hatred 
we did once feel
so that other rhymes replace our spiel 
and bravura of rather cinematic cloth
is when the embrace finally calms our wrath