Tag: art

poetry

~ Light Seeking ~

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~ Light Seeking ~

Cutting me apart
This life drives daggers into me
And out pours all the essence
To collect in puddles at my feet
I walk on, not knowing
Where I am going
Or if I’ll have enough to make it
Through this brute of a world.

I didn’t come here for this
But something inside says
There is a way through
Past the days of pain
The periods of emptiness
Those few shining moments
Sun rays through the rain clouds
As everything pauses to remind me
There is beauty there
Immense light and divinity
And that those things exist within me too.

But for now the rain falls hard
And I wander onwards
Holding onto the feeling that
One day the clouds will fully dissolve
And this whole world will illuminate
As all the grand illusions dissipate
And finally I’ll see this life for what it really is
And feel it for what it really is
As the sunshine drenches me
And life is good and complete
And I laugh with a ferocious, awaited joy.

poetry

~ A Loss of Fire ~

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~ A Loss of Fire ~

Maybe I’m just dry of inspiration
Or maybe what I feared is finally happening:
My soul is slowly starting to die
As I begin to somehow fit into this world
A little more smoothly
And the sentences that leave my mouth
Are a little more normal.

I always wondered if the day would come
Where that fire inside would dwindle
Before finally flickering out.

To other’s eyes I would probably seemed fixed
There would be no more rage
No more snarling or biting
The monkey finally off my back.

But inside I would be missing something
No expression existing anymore
No madness keeping me awake at night
No need to run off into the forest fires.

A stable mind without the need to write poetry
Is probably what constitutes most happy minds.

But having tasted the magic
How could this life ever be as glorious
As it was when I was young and full of heartache
Hanging onto words to stop myself
From going insane.

How could this life ever be as glorious
For when I fought my way through hell
As my inner song rang out
Of every part of my body.

Yes, a part of me says
I’m not sure I want to be straightened out
Or mentally stable
A speaker of sane words.

Stability is a dull ride
And I’d rather my spirit soar
And the wheels on my vehicle burst into flames
As I keep on racing towards an unreachable horizon.

I’d rather awaken in strange places
With my body battered
But my soul laughing 
At surviving yet another storm.

I’d rather stand under a night sky
Haunted and confused
While feeling a sense of wonder
That only sadness can evoke.

Yes, the day these words finally end
And I don’t even feel the burning desire
I’ll know that I’ll have finally let the fire be snuffed out
And this life will never give me
The same heat again.

poetry

~ After the Storm ~

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~ After the Storm ~

And here I am stand on the shore
Drying out in the sun
I’ve found my way through the storm
Back into the gentle light
Of peace and tranquillity.

I fought through the violent waves
And felt my soul being drowned
I contemplated what it was to go
Letting myself be consumed
And pulled into the abyss.

The monsters encircled
The light dwindled
And my mind dissipated 
But something within me knew
That I’d find my way back
Emerging like the dawn light on the ocean
To see this world awakening again
As blue skies burst with potential.

This is the story of a survivor
Standing on the shores of salvation
Laughing at the passing of the storm
At the seasick joy in his heart
And the footprints in the sand
Disappearing in the waves
As the transience of the tide
Creates a blank canvass
To begin beautifully
Again.

poetry

~ Starlight Signal ~

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~ Starlight Signal ~

The birds last song of the day sounds out in this suburb
The clouds begin to lose their distinction
Night is coming as the sun sinks below the horizon
And the first star appears in the sky
Taking that leap to be the first one
To shine and let its presence be known.

My life is changing right now
I’m feeling things that are new to me
I’m living in some space that is hazy
Heading over the horizon to a new place
But I realise you are that first star in the sunset sky
Signalling the change
Like a glinting diamond.

I sit back and sip my wine
As more stars become visible
One by one they appear
These burning beauties
Slowly unveiling themselves
Showing me that once the sun sets
And a period of my life ends
There will always be something there
Transforming my world into something else
Something that turns people into dreamers
To contemplate the whole universe
And all the love and beauty in it
And the possibility of what is to come.

poetry

~ End Times ~

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Not a day goes by
Where I don’t think about
Breaking this world apart
I’m sick of seeing these people
Potential shiners of light
Drifting like rain clouds
Through dead streets
Devoid of imagination
Vision and spirit.

They do not see life how it is
On their one ticket to the show
They sit staring at screens
Sticking their heads in the sand
Missing the cosmic magic.

Not a day goes by
Where I don’t want to scream
And let the shriek of my soul
Bellow out across this city
To shaken the windows
Of those who sit in slumber
Stale minds on sofas
Who do not hear the music
That plays outside
In the trees.

How am I going to make it
Another forty or fifty years
Without losing my mind
Having to face these people
And talk to them in their language
It is the language of dead
And I long to be alive.

I won’t accept this lifestyle anymore
Or this government pissing on me
Or the companies pissing on me
As they continually raise their prices
While wages stagnant.

The collapse is coming
That is for sure
And I do not fear it.

Let the whole system fall down, I say
Let it be biblical and messy
I want to see the look in the eyes of everyone
As they see that the life they lived 
Was nothing more than some illusion
Built on shifting sands.

Then they will stand in the wasteland
Where they will be asked to look inside themselves
And see what they are made of
To see what they have left
To see if they saved enough of their soul
To endure the end times.

The glorious end times.

poetry

~ Shackles Rusting ~

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~ Shackles Rusting ~

There are days when you dream of escape
Days when you look up to the grand sky above
And think about breaking out of this jail
To explore the hidden beyond
That lies out of reach
Just like the feeling of completion
That your soul yearns for
In this trivial place.

There are days when you dream of escape
When you think about taking off the mask
Stepping off the stage and throwing open the back door
Out you’ll walk into a new day – natural light finally on your face
No longer the puppet in the artificial place
Pandering to the crowd in some performance.

You’ll let go of everything in your life that doesn’t fulfil you
You’ll take only what you need as you begin your new voyage
Towards the distant lands of some destiny you had forgotten
The sort of place your bones longed to be in when you were a kid.

There are days when you dream of escape
And on those days you feel an importance
For you are feeling something within which is real
A deep cosmic force pulsating through your flesh
That tugs at the strings of the soul
Telling you where you need to go
And what you need to do.

Just like the birds in that sky flying southward
And the fish swimming up stream
You will be in tune with universal nature
Following that ineffable feeling
Hiking your way toward the horizon
And finding the oasis of life
Where you belong standing free
Living your truest life
As your shackles are finally left rusting 
Along the way.

thoughts

~ Embracing the Touch ~

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“Didn’t you dream of things once? Something more than what your life has become? Didn’t you dream that every day would be an adventure, that your life would have stories to tell, and that your eyes would show the light of life? Have you slipped into a slumber of the self? Have you shied away from the light outside your cave? There is more to this existence than sinking into a lifestyle which does not serve the essence of your soul. And every person can keep that magic something still growing inside them, despite their perceived circumstances. Life’s tender touch waits for you and you can choose to embrace it; to trust in yourself and find the thing that can shake your world alive. Put on those boots and tread the path you have feared to take. Put your pen to life’s paper and create something that has never been created before. Stand up onto your stage and find that song that has stayed silent for too long. This is it. It’s always here and always will be. Life will not turn its back on you even if you’ve turned your back on it. The beauty of being waits with welcome arms to carry you home to the person you have always desired to be.”

thoughts

~ Begin Again ~

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I put the book in the backpack even though I know I’m not going to read it. I’m just going to end up scrolling on my phone again, stuffing my brain full of useless crap. I’m becoming everything I ever hated. I don’t see the sunshine on the water because my mind is elsewhere. I don’t feel the cosmos flowing through my veins because I’ve numbed myself with alcohol and hangovers. I know the path to peace and happiness; I’ve followed it before. Yet I choose to walk away from the light and become a troubled being like the others. Maybe I’m choosing to do this for a reason. Maybe the pain I’m causing myself will turn to blazing light in a heavenly future. I don’t know to be honest. I don’t know why I do the things I do. I don’t know why I put the book in the backpack even though I know I’m not going to read it. I don’t know why I have those extra drinks at the end of a night out. I don’t know why I’m opening up my phone again, looking at things I don’t even care about. Oh, how the birds sing around me to remind me of what it is to be alive. Oh, how the light tempts me to throw the phone into the river, to detach from this matrix and plug into reality. I pull the book from the backpack. The pages flicker through my hand. I begin reading. I begin again.

poetry

~ Untitled ~

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~ Untitled ~

Nope;
I’m not going to force it
And pretend I’m feeling something I’m not
I’m just gonna talk about what I see, before me:

It’s a late-spring evening outside my window
The blossom on the trees has come and gone
And now what is left are bright green leaves
Waiting for the sunlight of the summer months.

They wait as they sway back and forth in the wind
And I, too, feel the breath of the world in my lungs
As my elbows rest on the hard wood of my table
While writing down these words one by one.

What is coming tomorrow?
I really don’t know
I have no plans, no job,
Nothing much going on at all.

I’m currently living on government benefit
Going on long walks along the river
Searching supermarkets for reduced food
And browsing the internet for hours a day

I do have a job to go back to next month
But for now it’s just the job of existing
Breathing the air, eating the food
Falling asleep for eight hours every night

It’s a job I’m at least competent at
And look, I even find other ways to exist:
Such as writing poems
And philosophising
As I stare out of windows
Watching my life breeze by
With no particular meaning.

poetry

~ Daft Daydreamer Delusions ~

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~ Daft Daydreamer Delusions ~

Some days I dream about solitude
About becoming some sort of hermit
Residing in a cave of my own making
Meditating for hours each day
Living off the bare essentials
Exploring my inner world.

Some days I dream about going away
To a place where sanity is banished
And all the logic and reason of the world
Is permanently banned.

Some days I dream about holding on
To my character and soul
And not letting this world rearrange me
Just to see how I turn out:
A madman or a poet.

Many men dream of taking chances
And perhaps there is no greater risk
Than following your own inner voice
When it tells you to leave the farm
Of regulated normality.

A part of me yearns to leap
Into that untamed wilderness
But reality stares at me menacingly
Snapping its teeth and licking its lips
Daring me to venture out beyond those fences.

Thoughts of starvation hound me again
So I guess I’ll just keep on doing what I can
Finding my way on this safe farm
Earning money, paying bills
Sitting on sofas and staring into space
The days slowly disappearing
As these daft daydreamer delusions
Drift on through my mind.