Category: poetry

poetry

~ Like A True Professional ~

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~ Like A True Professional ~

“But what is it you want to DO?” he asked me
It was a friend’s stepdad
In a bar over Christmas
One of those middle-class types
With the flash car and hot wife

I looked into his eyes
And thought about answering the question properly
To tell him about all my heart’s urges
About my crazy dreams
And existential desires

But of course, I knew
He would only understand an answer
That came in the form of a job role

These people often come up to me
They see me: a young man
Someone who speaks well
And even went to university
Surely he must be doing something with his life

For me, I was doing something
I was doing The Thing
Of following my heart
Travelling the world
Writing my poetry
And searching for the essence
Of what life was about
But it seemed that these things
Were not things
To people who measured life
By job titles and bank balances

God, maybe I really am crazy, I thought
Maybe I should just give up this crusade
Get a regular job
Become like that man
Tell people how I work in finance or something
How things are going well
Which holidays I’ve got booked
And what shows I’ve been watching on Netflix

But another part of me, says no, fuck it
I will not be ground down like the rest
I will not extinguish my fire
I will keep my shape
And stay true to who I am

And when they ask me what I do
I will look them in the eye
And tell them all the wonderful things I do
With a smug sense of pride

Like a true professional

Of life.

business

poetry

~ The Act of Expression ~

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~ The Act of Expression ~

Maybe you don’t think your voice matters
Maybe you think that you’re just another person
With nothing of any value to say

And this is exactly
What they want you to think
But know that every person on this planet has a unique perspective,
That can be a source of treasure to others

But as we grow up the noise of society intensifies
And many of us begin to believe that our feelings are wrong.
So we learn to silence our inner voice
Out of the fear of judgment and ridicule.

But think about the people who inspired you.

They were once in the same position
Of questioning whether they wanted to share their truth
Before finally discovering
That their emotions and their feelings
Were just as important as any news broadcast
Or school textbook.

So if you can feel something inside trying to get out
Then have the courage to open up.

Write your poetry.
Sing your song.
Dance your dance.
Speak your truth.

Sometimes a few words can change everything.

man writing

poetry

~ Leave It ~

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~ Leave it ~

I wouldn’t bother with me
I’ve long walked off the track you are on
You will find nothing of any use in me
And my poetry will repulse you

My words will not be familiar to your script
My behaviour will confuse you
My thoughts will scare you at best
And my interests will have no place in your life

No, I wouldn’t bother with me
I’m damaged goods, beyond saving
And you will feel ashamed
To be seen in my company

This wilderness I roam – it’s not one you want to be in
Although I often fantasise
About dragging you into it
So you can see the pain and madness
I know and endure.

But that would be cruel, so please:
just listen to my advice
keep your distance
and don’t bother with me.

This is the kindest advice
I can give
you.

pexels-photo-764880

poetry

~ Mutilated

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~ Mutilated ~

The monsters under my bed

Have found me again

And what is left to do

But to lie frozen still

and let them have their way with me

.

They are beings of persistence

And the more their claws tear me apart

The more I become one of them

.

And the thought hits me 

That perhaps all monsters 

Were once scared children

Just wanting the light

But in denial of that

They were dragged into the darkness

To become the very thing

That haunted them.

claw

poetry

~ No Filter Necessary ~

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pexels-photo-5207797
~ No Filter Necessary ~

Hidden in my heart were things

I couldn’t bear to let anyone see

But from time to time

I dreamed about opening up

And seeing my truth soar out of me

Like flocks of birds

Dancing in the morning sky

.

Often I looked around at the faces

Wondering what lay behind their eyes

Behind their ‘fine thanks, you?’s

And their polished appearances

.

I couldn’t help but sense

That I wasn’t alone with holding in my truths

In fact, when I walked those streets

And stared at those faces

I was sure that the majority

Were walking vaults of secret sadness



Still, when I go to share my song

I can’t seem to find my voice 

Like a broken stereo 

I stall and I stutter

Missing the important things

.

So I guess I will keep holding these things inside

And wondering if this world is full of people like me

Silently suffering

Because none of us were able

To let our true selves 

see the piercing spotlight

of this painful reality.

poetry

~ A Hidden Wonderland ~

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‘A Hidden Wonderland’

Somewhere deep inside your soul
there is an abandoned amusement park
waiting to be explored again

its entrance is taped off
its grounds sit shrouded in fog
but somewhere in there lies eternal bliss
the bliss the demons sweat in terror
at the thought of you finding

the rides await your screams of ecstasy
the candy floss awaits your taste-buds
the neon lights wait to shine bright
and the only admission cost
is that you are brave enough to venture in

in this life there is no tragedy greater than
allowing your inner joy to slowly decay
to allow the roller-coasters to rust in the rain
and let a heart creak hauntingly in the night

the reason this happens;
the reason your joy lies abandoned –
is because they made you forget
that you are the gatekeeper to your own wonderland
that the magic is found inside you, not outside

but if you would only remember who you really are
than the power will return within
the roller coasters will start up again
and the lights blaze bright once more

because somewhere deep inside your soul
there is an abandoned amusement park
waiting to come alive again

so go on in
through the mist
beyond the tape
and rediscover the joy
like a wide-eyed child
dazzled and delighted
curious and captivated
alive in the night once again

shining brighter and greater

than ever before.

poetry

~ Western Blues ~

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~ Western Blues ~

Three nights alone on the booze – I think I’m gonna lose.

I’m a dead man drifting on a back street high.

With not much left to lose but lots more left to prove.

Four nights alone on the internet – my mom thinks I’m an idiot.

I’m a trapped man searching for the answers why.

And with a lack of tv crews you won’t see me on the news

And I’m down on my knees when I’ve been struck by western blues.

beer-cars-city-576494.jpg

poetry

~ Drenched in Defeat ~

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~ Drenched in Defeat ~

The world was not what you told me mother
How could you bring me into this pain?
I want to live, and not just be another
broken soul trying to shelter from life’s rain.

Yeah my eyes drip with sadness
and I am soaked to the bone;
lost in the storm of my own madness
destined to drown on my own.

And how could it be you promised me
a life full of happiness and joy?
when the winds of this society
require me to consume and destroy.

How could it be that you told me
the world is sunshine and rainbows?
when the hollow heads attack me
and get their highs from my lows.

How could it be you encouraged me
to chase my dreams and my desires?
when the world is clouded with hatred
and corrupted by users and liars

Yeah you lied to me too mother
And that’s why I stand here now
Drenched in defeat
Shaking like a leaf
Shivering and beat
Losing hope and belief

I guess I will just keep convincing myself
that the good times still haven’t begun
and maybe one day this storm will pass
so my soul can dry out in the sun.

poetry

~ Time to Turn ~

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~ Time to Turn ~

There comes a point where you need to stop lying to yourself. 

You are hurting.
You are hurting and it’s not something that is going to be cured with a pill
Or a new pair of shoes
Or screaming at a referee
Or bottles of liquor
Or rough sex

You are hurting because you have neglected the nature of the soul
You have chosen acceptance over authenticity
Comfort over adventure
Ignorance over exploration
Convenience over fulfillment 

You have failed your child soul
Abandoned your passions
Allowed yourself to become moulded and melded down
Into a life of crowd-pleasing acceptance
That fills your pockets 
And not your soul

My child, 
Collect yourself and begin again
Toss aside their script of convention
Return to the woods of infant madness
Leave the safe farm and find what you have forgotten

It’s always been there, around you
The magic and mystery of life
The truth of your own being
The starry skies of infinite wonder

Yes, collect yourself and begin again
Be still in the enveloping silence of the night
Feel the breath of the cosmos whisper through your veins
Let your mind become clear of all mist 
Let your heart’s compass be recalibrated

There it will slowly emerge:
the direction you lost track of
the direction you drifted from

the direction to take you home
to those shorelines of the soul and spirit

That long for you to return

To the kingdom of yourself.

poetry

~ A Kingdom Untouched ~

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~ A Kingdom Untouched ~

There is a flag which flies in my heart. 
It flutters in winds of hate and dances in storms of pain. 
It stays raised proudly at full mast in the darkest of all nights. 

There is a flag which flies in my heart.

It will never be replaced by another. 
No tyrant will ever take it down; 
nor storm wear it away,
forever it will flutter free in that breeze, 
overlooking untamed lands.

There is a flag which flies in my heart.

It is the flag of joy
the flag of hope
the flag of adventure 

it is the flag of a kingdom 
which will never be conquered 
in this life, 

or the next.