Tag: art

thoughts

~ Self-Love ~

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~ Self-Love ~

Be kind to yourself. I know it’s easy to do the opposite; to constantly compare yourself to others, to think you’re not good enough, and wallow in your own issues. But one day you’re going to see that you’ve been fighting your fight as best you could; and, in the end, a lot of things you worried about didn’t matter anyway. You can’t control many things in this life, but you can control your attitude towards yourself. So why not love yourself unconditionally? Take a bit longer in the shower when you need to. Use as much gels and creams as you like. Savour the taste of a well-made coffee. Allow yourself to smile at the passing dogs, at the lovers walking hand in hand, at the rays of sun bursting through the clouds. Drink in the goodness of the world that is always there, if only you keep your eyes open to that instead of letting a fog of thought make you blind to your surroundings. You’re doing as good as you can, and the harder you are on yourself, the more you forget that just being alive itself is a complete wonder and marvel. And you are those things too. Just look in the mirror and gaze into the depth of your complicated eyes. Tell me there isn’t a magic there – billions of years of universal evolution manifested in a beautiful human-being. Isn’t it about time you saw that? Isn’t it about time you allowed yourself to be happy with the person you are?

poetry

~ Savage ~

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~ Savage ~

I am a wild man
There is no kidding myself anymore
No pretending that I’m going be straightened out
And put on some suit and settle down
Into a life of stability and sanity. 

I wasn’t made for that
And I think that’s okay
There are others who do that well
And lord knows I once gave it a shot
But those periods of routine didn’t last long
As the inescapable truth gradually emerged:

That I am a wild man
And I am only truly myself
When I stand outside of this farm
Living a life that many would call chaotic
And perhaps even pity.

But one’s man trash is another man’s gold
And this wayward life of mine
Well, it fulfils my soul
As I live by my own rhythm
Going from job to job
Residing in random rooms
Where I sit writing my books
And dreaming up my next escapade
As my heart laughs in raw freedom.

That freedom is that of the wild man
Who cannot be rid of his nature
And lives in tune with his inner voice
Not tamed by other’s opinions
Or a follower of predetermined paths
But rather runs dangerously free
In a place that is definitely not everyone

But is for me.

poetry

~ Still ~

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~ Still ~

Lift your head up from the despair
Do not accept defeat in that debris
You are in ruin, yes,
But you are still here
Maybe not standing
But breathing
And that is enough to
Begin again.

Just focus on that if that’s all you can do
Breathe in and out
Let your lungs be filled
It might not seem like much
But that air is the foundation
That slowly grows the forests
And fills them with birds
Singing their morning chorus.

You have fought hard and it’s only natural
That you feel like giving up
You don’t need to pull yourself up
Like some phoenix from the ashes
You don’t need to put on a strong face
Or climb some goddamn mountain
Right now, all you need to do is breathe
In and out. In and out.

poetry

~ In the Land of the Lions ~

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~ In the Land of the Lions ~

I know it’s easy to close up
And build the wall that so many have built
It can stay built for the rest of your life
Holding out the threat of life’s beasts
But remember the other things you are blocking out.

Take down a few of those bricks
If even just to take a peak
It’s a wild world out there
Full of strange and wonderful things
It will all come at you and you may get hurt
You may get lost and scared
But you will be in the place
Where the majesty of life will meet you head on
In that wilderness of love and heartache
Those forests of joy and despair.

That environment is where you will experience it all
The nature that brought you into existence
Don’t close yourself off to it
Don’t let yourself be invulnerable
To life’s great chaos and adventure.

Submit yourself to the forest once more
And let the roots of this life entwine you.

It’s better to have the beauty and the beasts
Than to have nothing at all.

poetry

Round Twelve

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~ Round Twelve ~

Beaten
Punched out
On the canvas
Life hitting harder than ever
And you fight to get up again
But this time, the thousandth time,
You finally begin to feel the futility
As you think back to all the struggle
The seeming eternity of this constant battle
As the crowd stands watching
And you contemplate finally succumbing
Letting yourself fade away under the lights
Feeling the heaviness of your heart
Battered and bruised
But, somehow, still beating its blood
That life force still flowing through you
As you take a deep breath
And feel a new surge of energy
That makes you stand once again to your feet
Delirious and even crazier than before
Not the same person anymore
Worn down, reshaped
And doing whatever it takes
To stay in the fight
And find some strength from somewhere
As you move forward back into it
To face the punches
Once again.

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.