Birds and Paper Airplanes

Birds and Paper Airplanes 

In a world of sky

We are born birds

And paper airplanes

He drifted upon the breeze

Floating aimlessly

Occasionally fluttering

Changing his coarse as he soared amongst the clouds

Ignoring the ground

Chasing the unknown

In a world of sky

We are born birds

And paper airplanes

Her wings had been crumpled and bent

Too many times to count

And still she wished to fly

So she did

Smoothing her heart

Waiting for just the right breeze

In a world of sky

We are born birds

And paper airplanes

They both grazed the heavens

The tips of their wings

Burnt by the sun

Longing for something

Hers was to reveal her beginning

And his was to find his hope

In a world of sky

We are born birds

And paper airplanes

They now glide

Together

Across the bright blue backdrop

Peppered by bright white clouds

Hoping to discover tomorrow

And the adventures it will bring

In a world of sky

We are born birds

And paper airplanes

Robert Lloyd

30 December 2017

Beautiful Damage

Beautiful Damage

Life’s best creation cannot be rivaled

That perfection

Alluring and dangerous

All in the same instant

That perfection

Is damaged people

You

Me

Even the ones placed on a pedestal before us

Expertly hiding their flaws

All of our beauty

Comes from our mistakes

We are survivors

Painting outside the lines

Or splattering the world like Jackson Pollock

Ignoring the expected paint by numbers

We tell ourselves we should follow

We endure

And in doing so we crack our porcelain lives

Some of our cracks our bigger

But those cracks are what define us

What shows us our strength

These cracks we cause

The struggles we suffer

This shows us we are alive

And not stuck in a mindless acceptance of fate

So rather than get bitter

We get better

Rather than fade

We fight

Our scars make us perfect

If there were no obstacles for us to overcome

No trials and tribulations

No burdens for us to individually carry

Life would be boring

And quite possibly pointless

So take a moment to grimace due to pain

Take a moment to feel picked on

Take a moment to wonder “Why me?” aloud

And then spend tomorrow, the day after and the day after that

Showing the world what beautiful and perfectly damaged people we are.

16 July 2017

Robert Lloyd

Charlie

"Charlie"

Dedicated aged copper

A willing companion

Ready to streak atop the green of mother earth

With a bright blue or night sky backdrop

In pursuit of my laughter

And a good throw

Still

On another day

He is easily content

With just being within arm’s reach

So my hands

Can wander across his cotton candy golden soft fur

Lost in thought

About yesterday and tomorrow

He does not judge my missteps

And forgives my selfish moments

He just wants for me

Someone

Anyone to be there

He will likely be happier than any one person may ever be

Because of that very simplicity

Yet he is willing to do his best

To see me smile

Or just sit

Silent

By my side

He is the good of this world

Dedicated aged copper

A willing companion

Ready to streak atop the green of mother earth

With a bright blue or night sky backdrop

In pursuit of my laughter

And a good throw

Robert Lloyd

2 March 2017

Electric Modern Love & Warfare

Electric Modern Love & Warfare 

Electric pops of ones and zeros play the passion intermediary in my now swipe right world. The screen of my phone has replaced the dreaded you should meet my single friend moment and I am not quite sure if that is a good or bad thing. I must admit the intrigue of actually reaching out and somehow finding a possible tomorrow prince or princess can be alluring. Especially when they sound almost too good to be true. 

We over analyze and light speed all our possibilities into a jumbled mess of texted hellos and booby trapped questions trying to find the other person's ghost. The one we just assume they are hiding since they are on the other side of the technology matchmaker doing the same as we are.

It's a video game come to life with you trying to set free your heart. You move at different speeds from the filtered start, passing go and collecting $200 at the phone booth of maybe, and then it's the voice test. Is she Edith Bunker on the phone or does Grace Kelly coo from the speaker. Is he Mike Tyson with a lisp or does he have that Johnny Cash deep growl swagger. We try and find that in between voice we can allow or tolerate and then comes the next big moment. 

We have read the book jacket and seem to like the story. We have even heard a passage of the book in their own voice. Now is the time to buy the book and read it. Chapter one. 

The great thing about all this social media algorithm love predicting adventure is that even after a few chapters of chance, if it does not seem to be the story you have expected or wanted, it can be returned at full price with not even a dog eared page to be noticed. 

This is our dating world now, using modern to prove retro. Being a lady or gentleman with consonants and vowels. Ironically finding a person worth more than their words while judging none other than their words. 

We have to find new ways to open doors for the now virtual smile and curtsey and so here we are. Swiping right, hitting send, liking the best most practiced posed pictures of someone else, hoping that the 3-D them is not too much of a step down from the imagination's painting. 

It's a ready player one soul mate searching game. Enjoy the ride and prepare for all possibilities in 3... 2... 1... Thank you for registering with...

Robert Lloyd
18 February 2017

(My Keroauc ramble on the state of dating)

Forgetting to Dance

"Forgetting to Dance"

Endeavoring against herself and time

With one foot stepping toward tomorrow

And the other tracing the footsteps of the past

She sometimes misses out on dancing today

Chained by the expectations of others

She struggles with her inner heart

Along her path to the now

She has tripped over broken promises

And bloodied her knees

Scrapping them against the course reality of should have beens

Perfection is sought

But the cruel joke is that it is forever changing

Just when she is close enough to jump and grab it

The world shifts

And so does her perspective

People around her become different

Her hands lay empty

Supposedly having just missed on what was expected

Needed

Wanted

She is left to try again

All the while her heart aching

Lost in a world

She wants so desperately to be a part of

She pushes forward for what she hopes comes next

Using the past as her foundation

Sometimes missing out on the present

And the chance to dance

While not caring who is watching

Robert Lloyd

1/19/2017

Used Car

"Used Car"

Where the cigarette burn came from

Who knows

I don’t smoke

Probably never will

What the stain is on the back seat

Can’t really tell

Don’t really want to find out

This beast does it job

Point A to point B

With just a little bit of stale air

The wheel shakes too much

And the brakes are tad touchy

But she’s all mine

Just like she was my sister’s before

My father’s before that

And someone’s before that

That someone probably put the stain there

Smoking while swerving

Moving in and out of traffic

Windows open

Ashes flitting back

Landing on some unsuspecting coed

I can see her

Spilling her Strawberry Hill or Pabts

Soaking her lap and eventually the seat

She panics trying to stop the burn

Who knows where that night led

All I know is its there now

I don’t bother hiding it

It gives this old car character

Or it just means I don’t care

Waiting till I get my own new car

One where I can put my own stains

And lost memories

Robert Lloyd

13 July 2011