An Existential Party Poem

So picture this,

Tall, lanky, pale me,

On an average summers night,

Enjoying the warm breeze,

Staring out at the distant mountains,

Enjoying the sound of the much, much, much nearer fountains,

Of cold beer flowing from the keg,

Standing there with a canvas roof over my head,

Party behind,

The rest of the world,

There,

Ahead.

Just by myself,

At the party of a dude a friend once knew once upon a time and place,

Surrounded by hundreds of people,

Each and every individual,

Seems to be totally off their face.

Something in the grass,

Catches my eye,

Sitting there shining,

Hiding in my peripheral vision,

“Oh score 50 cents!”

With the added weight in my pocket,

No longer quite so poor,

I decide I want more material wealth,

And so,

With little regard to my bodily health,

I wonder out further,

Into endlessly vast fields of green,

And yet still,

There are no more coins to be seen.

I start to look harder at the ground,

All grassy and sort of damp,

Beaten down by the relentless stamp, stamp, stamp,

Of a thousand teenagers so high on life,

They could reach out and steal the stars from the sky,

The green grass was glowing,

Moistened by the dropped drinks,

Of those before me,

Slowly sinking to the ground,

Like smaller Titanics,

Only this time,

The only ice I see is in peoples drinks.

Forgetting my quest for forgotten coins,

For the time being,

I look around,

And instead turn my head,

Up,

And suddenly,

I stop dead,

As it hits me right between the eyes,

Like the arrow of that forgotten archer,

Who you could tell was aiming for the apple,

But just didn’t quite make it,

And as I stare up at the heavens,

At that soft, silver, stellar sprinkling of sea salt stars,

On the tablecloth of the sky,

I realise how goddamn lucky I am to be,

To be here,

To be there,

To be anywhere on the face of this earth,

To be able to live,

To breathe,

To shout,

To scream,

To really just be me.

And how my life is just one big happy coincidence,

That my great, great, great to the 10, Granddad,

Met my great, great, great to the 10 Grand mum,

And, well, they had some fun,

And out came my great, great, great to the 9 Granddad,

And so on,

And so forth,

Until one day I was had,

And then born,

And then,

I travelled across sea and warring land,

Just to land in this country,

And then I survived through 16 years of hard work and strife,

Rife with the good and the bad,

Just about every emotion that could have been had,

Just so that I could be there,

At that exact time and place,

As our grain of sand sized rock hurtled through time and space,

One ant in a billion,

Each one a unique face,

With their own stories,

And emotions,

And problems,

And devotions,

And I was just, me, unique, there,

Not helping or affecting,

Just wishing I could be more,

And get places,

Before the door to opportunity got slammed in my face.

Suddenly, my shoulder slams down,

I wince as my head comes out of the clouds,

And my feet collide with the ground,

I look around,

Deep thoughts all but forgotten,

As I turn and weave my way back into the crowd.

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