Written by Benjiman Grant

If You Came Expecting A Burlesque Show, I’m Sorry But I’m Going To Have To Disappoint You



Caught in the air,
Lost in the sky,
Briefly caught napping,
Step forward with flair.

We move around,
Organised, but lonely,
The sun burns,
The grass freshly cut.

A noise bellows out,
Like leather on willow,
The summer begun,
With the wings of a sparrow.

We are judged for our effort,
Given a score,
But no matter what happens,
We will always be back for more.

An off the cuff poem about cricket and life.

I really miss playing sports. It is fantastic way to express yourself and obviously keep fit. I love the passion and art of sport. Fans cheering, the location set up, The tactics and the competition. It all fascinated me as a child and I continue to love it now. Along with music playing, sports is one of my bigger hobbies that I don’t really get to partake in. But at least both music and sport is still so easy to consume by other people’s work.

People sometimes feel shame to talk about things they love and
find joy in. We can often worry too much about others opinions about out passions. But If you love things and people don’t like it, you have a great open door to introduce people to the things you love.  That feeling I get when I recommend a band or a film to a friend is a great sensation. I want to share so much sometimes that I get disappointed when whatever I am sharing doesn’t get the same love.

Tell me things. I love learning about new things and I want to experience more of this world. We can make our impression on the world or we can let the world make its impression on us. Some are lucky enough to do both. One day I will go into detail about my Grandad Cy, he was a father figure, inspiration and friend. His life was a legacy, he passed down so much through his actions and he touched so many people’s lives. He experienced so much that he just wanted to share his tales and stories. He did through so many mediums acting, music, writing, but to me he made the biggest impression by talking. We would sit for hours and he would regale me with his stories. I was captivated and enthralled. As I child I wanted to emulate him and impress him. It took his death to make me realise some truths. One of which only became clear via therapy. I wanted to emulate his experiences so much and made him to be such a huge figure in my mind I forgot to do what he taught me. I forgot to make my own stories.

So that’s what I plan to do.

Experience more, but share my stories, embracing this world of constant communication I can share instantly.


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