poetry

~ A Moment in Time ~

~ 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 ~

~ 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.

short stories

~ New Year, New Me ~

~ New year, New me ~

Another night of laying there unable to sleep. Another night of watching the hours go by as dawn approached, knowing I’d face the world even more sleep-deprived than the day before. Such a situation was nothing new to me. Insomnia had been ravaging my life for years by the time I was in my thirties. It came and went, but at its worst I’d get just a couple of hours of disturbed sleep a night. Sometimes I’d get none. Slowly it would snowball out of control until my mental state was dark, depressed, and delirious. At my very worst, I would even slip into psychosis and begin to have auditory and visual hallucinations. I would be totally exhausted and broken – a pitiful wretch – and all I needed was to simply sleep to fix myself, but I would lay there each night undergoing psychological torture, totally unable to switch off and get the thing my soul was screaming for. One time I got so frustrated I started banging my head against a wall in a desperate attempt to knock myself out. That’s when I realised the severity of the disorder that was violently destroying my life.

It’s now the start of 2024 as I begin this year in this all-too-familiar way. I partly have myself to blame for it, having gone on a weekend bender in Dublin three weeks before. Whenever my routine is disturbed by drinking and late nights, I usually end up spiralling into a state of sleep-deprivation. I guess I should have accepted by now that my partying days are behind me with this paralysing condition, but it’s been hard to let go of all the fun things that filled my youth. So, here I am three weeks on, battling a disease of the mind that no one else can see and only a few can understand. Still, the start of a new year presents the opportunity to start fresh and mark out some targets. Maybe I’ll quit drinking, I say to myself. Maybe I’ll finally get this condition under control. Strict sleeping times and healthy practices. No more partying until dawn. It’s a nice idea that I commit myself to with a sense of vigour and hope. A man can always use the concept of a new year to try and start afresh; even if it’s just a temporary delusion, sometimes that’s what one needs in order to keep marching into another year of existence.

For now though I lay in my room, hiding from the outside world which seemed far too unbearable when one hadn’t slept properly in weeks. I guess it was a good place to be considering that storms had been battering the country for weeks. I couldn’t help but listen to that heavy wind and rain like I was listening to a representation of my turbulent mental state. The nearby river continued to rise as I felt a growing gloom about my life, as if a sprawling swamp surrounded me with sinister creatures lurking somewhere in the shadows. Each year life got considerably harder and I was left wondering how I’ve even made it this far without drowning altogether. I took refuge in the fact that there was obviously some sort of strength inside of me that had kept me fighting off my demons throughout the years – whether that be depression, anxiety, alienation, insomnia, or general madness. However, I didn’t feel as strong and brave as I once did, and things were only getting harder as that river continued to rise and the current got stronger. I could feel my insides shaking; my nervous system vibrating with anxiety. I wondered how the hell I was ever going to get by in this world with my mental health problems and unemployability and the rising cost of living and everything that just seemed to make being a human-being a stupidly difficult and unrealistic task.

I couldn’t let myself get bogged down in a million worries at once, so I set a step by step guide to get out of the darkness first. The first thing I needed was sleep so I focused on fixing that by staying away from booze, meditating, and having set bedtimes. It took a few days but I eventually felt able to head out and face the world. I ran alongside the flooded river; I breathed in the air; I went shopping in the supermarket for healthy foods. Slowly I started to feel somewhat like a human-being again. The next step involved the ever-present necessity of money. I needed a job after my last one decided to let me go a few weeks before Christmas. I started searching and sending out applications. As always, I looked for the most straightforward jobs possible – menial factory or warehouse roles that required you to do just a couple of repetitive tasks. That’s about all I could manage at this point. Perhaps that was my ceiling. I was an autistic daydreamer after all, and my limited capacity for work was hard to ignore when reflecting on my job history.

Although jobless, I was at least getting some income being on government unemployment benefits. It required me to attend meetings with a work coach to tell them the steps I was taking in seeking employment. My last one was at the height of my insomnia when my anxiety was through the roof, and I was unfortunate to be met with a guy who grilled me and got me to apply for terrible call centre roles in which I wouldn’t last more than a few days. This time I was better prepared and lucky enough to be met with a woman who clearly didn’t care as much about her job as the previous guy. Perhaps she too knew what a joke it all was. I sat there describing some jobs I’d applied for, as well as some vague future employment goals. She typed some things into a computer and nodded her head as I accepted my place as a misfit and liability in this society. The tedious process plodded on and eventually came to a merciful end.

I then headed back out into the streets of Nottingham city centre. I walked around and saw them all surrounding me again: the normal, civilised faces of humanity. Presentable people with careers and cars and credit scores and shoe collections. People ready to continue on along the treadmill of a normal, sane life – mortgages and marriages; security and stability. The separation from everyone else all was as strong as ever. It was a new year, but it seemed it was the same old me – wandering the world like some sort of alien that had been cast away on planet earth. Still, I reminded myself that I had a beautiful girlfriend; that I was consistently looking for work; that I was twenty hours into learning to drive. Perhaps this year would be different. Perhaps this year I’d finally smoothen and straighten out. I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the ‘new year, new me’ optimistic delusion was taking effect once again.

I continued walking towards home until I reached the river. I stopped and sat down on a bench beside it. The water levels had dropped back down to normal and the winter sunshine twinkled upon the surface. I let myself breathe and observed the pleasant scene before me, watching a flock of birds fly along the river and happy dogs stroll along the pathway. It was a place I had experienced great peace before and, after a few minutes, I noticed that peace there in my soul once again. I felt my inner anxiety being alleviated – all the thunder inside being replaced by a loving, radiant light that had filled me before. Despite my current troubles, I knew that it was a beautiful world, and that I really did belong to it – even if I felt out of place in society. Slowly I began to accept myself and where I was in life. Slowly I began to accept that yes – it was a new year, and in reality would never really be a new me, but the best thing I could do was to nurture the part of myself that had guided me to peace and happiness before. At that moment, I made a decision to look after myself a bit better, starting by resisting an offer to go out for drinks that evening. Something inside of me said the way forward this year was as simple as that. My plan wasn’t to conquer the world, or run a marathon, or some specific goal or resolution like that – but to just treat myself with some basic kindness and gentleness. Starting from there, who knew what it would lead to. For when the storm has passed and the destruction has been cast, it seemed the best and only real thing you could do was dust yourself off, pick up the pieces, and let yourself move forward in the direction of the calming and healing light.

poetry

~ Who Am I Kidding?~

~ 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.

poetry

~ Listen Here ~

~ Listen Here ~

Hear this heart sing
Though you try to silence it
And wish me to get in line
Suppressing my spirit
I shall continue to refuse
For I know that sanity of yours
Is slowly killing you
Your tired eyes tell it all
Your soul is screaming for music
And I do not wish to kill my song too
No conformity or career
Will put an end to this
As this grey world continues
You’ll find me dancing within
Where my song plays loud
Shaking the walls and windows
Keeping me thoroughly alive
And no amount of knocking at the door
Will cause this precious symphony
To stop soaring.

poetry

~ Spontaneous Saturday Evening Poem ~

~ Spontaneous Saturday Evening Poem ~

It’s a Saturday evening and I’m home alone
Trying to write a poem
I’m listening to ambient music
Looking at pretty pictures of sunsets
Hoping that inspiration will strike
As the words come flooding onto the page.

It’s a strange process that is hard to explain
But doing this, instead of being at the bar,
Well it gives me the sort of joy
That one only gets when they are in touch
With something spiritual and sacred.

For some reason I decided to be a writer
I’ve been doing it for over ten years now
Nothing has really made much sense to me
Except when I’m organising words together.

School didn’t come naturally
Jobs didn’t come naturally
Social life didn’t come naturally
But for some reason this did.

And that’s why I’m here tonight
Still giving it all that I’ve got
Sailing out on the sea of creative thought
Lowering my net into the depths
And trying to catch a big juicy
200 pound poem to take home
And display on my wall.

For now it appears I’ve only caught this one
Which, admittedly, isn’t my best
But hey, I’m having fun
Typing these words
Jamming out alone
On a Saturday evening.

I’ll think I’ll even crack open a beer
As I keep on sailing on this sea
Doing the thing which puts everything in the right place
Which makes me feel like I’m on that dancefloor
Busting my moves and celebrating life
In all its strange joy.

poetry

~ Free Time ~

~ Free Time ~

Another weekday
It’s 9pm again
And the temptation to turn on the television
And watch some crap appears.

No, I say to myself
This is the time to create
To write some words
And share some truth.

So here I am back at the keyboard
Persevering with my poems
As my girlfriend learns piano.

What’s the point, I sometimes wonder
It’d be so much easier to sink into a groove
To find some comedy series
And let my mind be numbed
After a long day at work.

It does feel good,
When the odd good poem comes along
But too often it’s just hours
Of staring at the screen
Starting and deleting sentences
Going around and around
In your own mind
Searching for that something
Which you imagine no one else has ever said
As you write the poem that changes the world
That will cause everyone to become enlightened
As the climate crisis is averted
And world peace is finally announced.

In reality, you just type more words
To post onto your blog
To be read by fifteen people
Somewhere around the world
Whom you’ll never meet
Or even message.

Well, look, I guess this is one more poem
The third one of the evening, in fact
I’m not sure if they’re any good
But at least I can feel like I’ve earned
An episode of The Simpsons now.

poetry

~ My Way ~

~ My Way ~

I guess I was always a little wild
A little rebellious, a little reckless
From a young age, I walked my own path
Following the signposts of the soul
Rather than the signposts of society
I trusted the authority of my intuition
Rather than any government or institution
I still feel this way; each person must find
Their own path through this wilderness
If they are to find out who they truly are
And get the most out of this life.

Self-direction is the way
And I will never stop thinking for myself
Nor settle down into some sofa
Turning on a TV and turning off my mind
I shall follow this internal compass to whatever end
For without it, I would not have found
The joy that I now store in my soul
The fire that burns in my heart
And the truth that runs through
My words.

poetry

~ Born Again ~

~ Born Again ~

Open your heart up to the world
You know you want to let that light flow inside
To awaken your inner world with colour
Radiating through your body.

It’s time for your life to really begin
You can keep hiding from it
And many do their whole lives
But these days I know you’ve been longing
To feel that energy surge through you
As your eyes meet the dawn
And the starry dance of the cosmos
Can be seen in your smile.

Write your words
Climb your mountains
Drive down the highways
That will take you somewhere
Where your days will have renewed
Passion and purpose.

Let the world invite you forward
And leap into its possibility
As your story becomes richer
Each moment so much more vivid
That heart once again full
Of childhood joy and curiosity.

You know, I once met a man
Who wanted to kill himself
Before he did that, he thought
He’d blow all his money
On a final trip in Mexico
He flew to that country
Ate tacos, drank beer
Made new friends
Surfed the waves
And watched the sunsets
On the pacific ocean
And finally he decided
That his story wasn’t over.

Finally he decided that there was still joy in life
By just changing his attitude and expectations
And by screwing up the story
He had written on a piece of paper
That wasn’t really himself
Just a tired old narrative
That was in need of a new chapter.

There’s light in this world
There will always be light in this world
If only we open ourselves up to it
Each day is a new birth is possible
Should we learn to be a bit more destructive
Breaking down those self-made walls
Which have constricted our view
Of an all too beautiful world
That is aching for us to experience it

That is aching for us
To take that trip

That is aching for us
To be born again.

poetry

~ Touching The Flame ~

~ Touching the Flame ~

Another one reduced to tears
And I can’t help but think
Of all the broken hearts tonight
Head in hands, tears on cheeks
As the candles flicker beside baths
And the warmth leaves the heart
Swallowed up by a great sadness
That seems destined to find us all
At some point in our lives.

What is there to do
But just try to keep it together
As the shaking hand turns the tap
And the face forces another smile
Silently struggling through the days
All of us together as our private pains
Continue to fester in our hearts.

This world is a secret tragedy
And when I look around all I see are broken people
Fighting through the heartache; reorganising their lives
Still searching for that one great love
To complete what can not be completed
To heal what cannot be healed.

Like moths to flame we chase a feeling
That continually sears and scalds us
But somehow leaves us wanting more.

I’m starting to come to the conclusion
That I don’t think we were suppose to ever find it
And perhaps a part of us doesn’t want to.

A part of us wants the tears to continue to pour
The candles to continue to flicker
And our hearts continue to ache
For the strange and irresistible feeling
Of being burnt in some fire
That reminds us we’re alive.