Category: poetry

poetry

~ End of the Empire ~

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~ End of the Empire ~

Smoke finally clearing
As our love lies smashed to pieces
In ruin, I stand among the rubble
“It’s over,” logic tells me. “There’s no repairing this…“
“Not this time…”

Time to finally move on
And drift out of each other’s lives
To become memories and recounted stories
Perhaps even wonders of what might have been
On some quiet future nights
When the heart is feeling restless
But nothing more than that.

I start heading outward
But can’t help but find myself stopping
And picking up the pieces of our scattered castle
Holding them in my hands.

Memories of cooking together
Shared laughter by the fire
Dog walks in the woods
Soft kisses on the cheek

One by one, I pick them up
And thoughts of rebuilding
Soon enter my foolish mind
As I stand alone in this wasteland
Studying the fractured remains
Occupying this empty space
These fingers numb with the feeling
Of knowing some things can’t be fixed

But holding onto them, anyway.

poetry

~ The Radical Thing ~

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~ The Radical Thing ~

Do the radical thing. 

Growing older, it’s so easy to sink into slumber
The sofa groove; the spiritual chamber
The suppressed desires and unspoken words
It’s so easy to accept the weight of the adult world
And let those slumped shoulders form
As you stand with the others on the assembly line.

But do the radical thing
And nurture the parts inside yourself
In whatever way that keeps those eyes shining
And letting that mouth speak words of meaning
As you continue on your truest path
Shaking off the forces that want you
To become another background character
Bitterly beeping in life’s traffic jam.

Do the radical thing.
And love yourself unashamedly
Don’t submit to mindless drudgery
Nor let the bottle or the pills
Numb you to a conditioned reality.

Let the sanctity of solitude
Remind you who you are;
Let the rhythm of happiness
Flutter in your heart.

Be someone that your child self
Would look up to and delight in
And nurture a life in which you live naturally
A life in which you live with integrity,

A life in which you live radically.

poetry

~ Rainy Days Ahead ~

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~ Rainy Days Ahead ~

Sitting alone in the corner of the pub
Trying to work on my laptop
While watching the old men drink ale at the bar
As the weather notification on my phone tells me
That there will be “rainy days ahead”

I’m back in Nottingham after spending the winter away
This time without a girlfriend
Who is now living in the hills of Barcelona
I bump into her friend while walking along the river
While sporting a drunken cut on my face
And riddled with hungover anxiety
Her friend is happy and now has a dog
I look like a wretched mess in comparison.

That was my second facial injury within a month
The other happened when I had my phone stolen
As the thieves broke into my online bank accounts
And transferred themselves generous amounts of money
On that same night my bike was also stolen
And I woke up with more wounds
Seeping into my bedsheets.

Oh well, it’s a new day, I say to myself
So I take a sip of my coffee and try to get back to work
But the old men at the bar have gotten louder
So I leave and walk a bit further into the city.

I’m on my way into the centre
And walking near my old girlfriend’s house
When a homeless man approaches me
He asks me to play AC/DC’s ‘Back in Black’ on my phone
I put it on and start chatting to him
He’s clearly insane but I end up buying him
A pack of cigarettes and some vodka
Despite trying to recoup my recent losses.

We chat for five minutes about nothing
Until I eventually say goodbye
For some reason, I even say “god bless”
Despite being a non-believer.

And then suddenly I’m in another bar
I don’t recognise anyone
And they don’t recognise me
I told myself I wouldn’t drink
But I order a strong lager anyway
I take a sip and pull out my phone
The battery is now running low
My friend is asking if I want to go out tonight
And the notification still tells me
That there’ll be rainy days ahead.

poetry

~ Deranged ~

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~ Deranged ~

I see normal people
Normal people with normal heads
Normal heads full of normal thoughts
Thinking about their wives and jobs
Or what they have to do when they get home
The next time they’ll visit their family
Or what show they’re going to watch
Before going to bed.

Those normal people
I know if they took one look inside this head
It would be like watching some foreign film
Without subtitles.

How is it even possible I ended up this way
So far removed from the rest
That I have to train my tongue
To act out a performance just to get by.

I’m honestly so tired of this
I’m so tired of this script
I’m so tired of this performance
And these predictable people.

I think it’s time to loosen this tongue
And let the normal people see
Just what’s inside my head
Even if it’s just insanity
Or irrationality
Or a deranged poem
From a deranged mind

In a deranged world.

poetry

~ Something Drastic Must be Done ~

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~ Something Drastic Must be Done ~

Tired of not blooming anymore
Tired of being over the best part
Looking at those sullen eyes
Those shrugged shoulders
Feeling that emptiness within
As the sunlight doesn’t reach the important spaces.

Tired of being on the wrong path
And knowing I took a wrong turn somewhere
Yet not doing anything about it.

Tired of speaking words I don’t mean
And sleepwalking down these streets
Being a productive member of society
While my soul lies in some deep sleep.

I want to grab it and awaken it
And run out the front door with wild eyes
And feel these words come more easily.

I want to go back to a place in time
When writing came before working
And I didn’t care so much about money
Or that stupid fear of the future.

I want to break free from this post-youth winter
That has frozen my spirit.

I really want to do it
But the frost grows thicker
And as the days continue to drift by passively
As I stare into the vacant eyes of strangers
And that silent sadness begins to take over
I realise that something must be done.

I realise that something drastic,
Must be done.

poetry · thoughts

~ Travelling at Thirty-Three ~

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~ Travelling at Thirty-Three ~

Staring up at the sky and letting my eyes adjust to the darkness
Searching for those satellites in between the stars
While standing on a rooftop in Las Palmas
Wondering how I ended up here, again,
My days of drifting not quite over
But knowing I am definitely older now
And yes, I miss the youthful me
That renegade rascal who reveled in life’s bright lights.

Somehow it doesn’t quite hit the same anymore
I mean, those starry skies still look the same
The ocean shoreline still looks the same
And the sangria still tastes delicious
But the sense of soul-searching adventure
While coming of age on life’s rollercoaster
Is different.

Somehow I am adjusted to it all
The sights, the sounds, the conversations
And the things that once caused butterflies to flutter in my stomach
Well, they now feel like crickets chirping in my brain.

There is a still quietness on this side of town.

And as my eyes finally adjust to the darkness
And I look at the satellites instead of the stars
I wonder if I will ever behold the blazing light
Of youth and adventure again.

poetry

~ A Moment in Time ~

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~ A Moment in Time ~

In my heart I’ll always be there
Dancing with you on a rooftop in Palermo
Holding your hand while walking by the river
Throwing that frisbee to you in the summer sun.

In my heart I’ll always be there
Cuddling with you on a Sunday morning
Staring into your eyes and your soul
Getting lost in that starry universe.

In my heart I’ll always be there
Running my fingers through your hair
Feeling the light burst through me
As my lips touch yours.

I guess I’m never gonna truly let you go
A part of you will exist within me always
And when my last step is taken
And I fall to the floor of this earth
I will look up to the grand sky above
Feeling your love still flowing through me
And I’ll remember those times of pure joy
When everything was perfectly in place
Hoping I could stay in that moment forever

Dancing with you on a rooftop in Palermo.

poetry

~ The Only Way ~

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~ The Only Way ~

I’m sorry, but I can’t be who you want me to be
I know I’ve tried to iron out these creases
To fit my circular shape into a square hole
And I know how wonderful it would be to be with you
To share our journey with love and laughter
But the makeup of myself is something unchangeable.

I thought this time it might be different
With the love of a good woman, I could become sane
I could find a good job and learn to drive and flourish
A regular human-being just like the rest.

But each stride forward just pulls me back
And tells me the inescapable truth
That I do not belong on that side of the street.

My place is here in this broken shack
Lingering with the lost and lonely
Finding my way in the shadows
While writing this poetry.

A part of me has always known this
But your kisses were intoxicating
And like all starved people who get a taste of love
I guess I let delusion get the best of me.

So tonight I finally recognise that this has to come to an end
That the irreparable parts of my character
Now break down this bridge
To leave us standing on separate shores
With only the memory of each other
And at least knowing we tried what others wouldn’t.

But now we know,
That I can’t be who you want me to be,
And that’s okay.

In the end, it’s best for both of us.

In the end,
It’s the only way.

poetry

~ Minimalist ~

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~ Minimalist ~

It was true that I didn’t have many talents in life
At least not ones that could do the important thing: make money
But although lacking in this area
I was blessed with a specific quality
Of just not needing, or even desiring, much.

Just give me a space to sit and meditate in
A pair of shoes to go running in
A basic laptop to do some writing on
And that’s my happiness covered.

Okay, of course, I need food and a roof over my head
But once these things are met
I am as rich as the richest man
In fact, I have what many of the rich don’t have:
I have enough.

Just sitting and staring out the window now
Watching the trees sway in the winter wind
And the birds fly from branch to branch
I sip a coffee and feel a completion
That is greater than any millionaire in a mansion.

How or why would I be motivated
To go and join in the rat race
Working hard for things I don’t want or even need
When pure bliss is available
In the here and now.

A car is just more stress and expense
Much more enjoyable to walk or cycle
My own home is just a burden again
I don’t want to have to pay for a new boiler
Or constantly maintain it
I’d rather just pay some rent.

Maybe I’m just a bum
But I’ve found my own way
To make it through this life
While maintaining some peace
And sense of sanity.

Looking around me
I believe that is more than most.

poetry

~ Who Am I Kidding?~

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~ Who Am I Kidding? ~

Who am I kidding?
Trying to be an ordinary person
Getting my driver’s licence
A girlfriend, a job
A routine.

Who am I kidding?
Dressing up nicely
Tidying my room
And calming the fire inside.

It may be suppressed, at times
Even dwindling
But the spark is always there
Waiting to erupt
And engulf me again.

Some things are inevitable
And who the hell am I kidding
Thinking that there will ever be a time
When I’m not wading through the sewers
And being covered in all the shit
That is now seeped into my soul.

I no longer wish to lie to myself
Only to face the harsh light
That unveils the truth I cannot escape.

Tonight I throw away the mask
And stare into the mirror
Beholding my scarred, scratched flesh
Facing the grim reality
Of my maniacal self.

I was never made to be clean
I was never made to be normal
I was never made to write words
That are different from these.

I was made to linger on the outskirts
To drift in the darkness
And let my own madness
Consume me totally.

This truth is unavoidable
And please, do not pity me
For this act of accepting who you are
Gives one a certain freedom in life.

It’s the freedom of unbolting your own cage
And letting yourself be unrestrained
Wandering in your natural wilderness
Your claws sharpened; your eyes wide.

Your strongest, strangest
Unshakable self.