Tag: poem

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 the untamed wilderness
But reality stares at me menacingly
Snapping its teeth and licking its lips
Daring me to venture out beyond the 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 disappearing
As these daft daydreamer delusions
Drift on through my mind.

poetry

~ No Sale ~

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~ No Sale ~

My books don’t sell much
But that’s okay
It still makes me feel good
Just to spit out some sentences
That come from some strange space inside
Where sunlight can’t survive.

It’s a world run by money
And what is a man to do when
His passion doesn’t translate to a job role.

“Do what you’re passionate about,
And you’ll never work a day in your life.”

Oh yes, we’ve all heard it before
The ignorant sentence that means nothing
To poets and people who can’t fit into
The positions of conventionality.

I consider my other options outside of creative writing:
There are things like copywriting and journalism
Where you write about stuff you’re not interested in
As you slowly lose your passion and energy
For writing your own stuff.

It’s a slightly annoying situation, I must say.

I was only given this one talent
I’m an introverted daydreamer
With no practical or pragmatic skills
I’m living with some form of undiagnosed condition:
Possibly ADD, autism, or dyspraxia
Or all of them together.

It’s not the best set of cards to have, admittedly.

“But you’re intelligent,” they say,
Totally unaware that being intelligent
And being compatible with a certain system of society
Are two completely different things.

Oh well, for there to be insiders,
There need to be outsiders.
It’s a universal law; one which I keep in check
As I wander this wilderness
With my unread words.

No point at this stage in trying to fit in
And do something different
No point at this stage in trying to be normal
And fail once again.

Time for me to accept who I am.

Let me sink into my groove of eccentricity
Let me drink the beers and scribble on stained pages
Watching the world go by from the window of a bar
On a Monday afternoon.

This is my space;
As the successful men of the world stare at me
And continue in their sane lives
Going to and from their workplaces
Their wives and their children.

I face down to the page once more
The pen knows it’s time to paint words
And let all the stuff that stirs inside of me
Show its strange face to the world.

It knows it’s time to let the world know
That there’s one more madman
Who believes he has some art within him
Another daft, deluded daydreamer
Who thinks that following his own voice
And doing his own thing
Can somehow bring anything
Other than madness, loneliness
And, most probably,
An early death.

poetry

~ Inner Song ~

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~ Inner Song ~

Something in my spirit sings
Though the days get dark
And the path gets twisted
Something inside of me
Sings ever so softly.

On those manic days
When the world seems to stand against you
And faces of hatred glare at you
And the demons encircle you
There is this something
That I have always felt
Harmonising within.

It’s kinda like a defiant laugh
A secret strength from somewhere
Sourced from some unspeakable knowledge
That is the result of all my years
Of overcoming struggles
Which did not break me.

Something in my spirit sings
As thunder rumbles around me.

Something in my spirit sings
As the lightning strikes the roof.

Something in my spirit sings
As the rain comes flooding in.

Defeat, destruction, 
Asteroids crashing down
Tsunamis pounding my shores
None shall stop my song.

Even in death,
Hear my melody play on.
The sound of a universal spirit
That can never
Be silenced.

poetry

~ My Ambition ~

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~ My Ambition ~

I don’t want to be revered
Or admired
Or respected
Or even accepted.

Any man who finds his happiness
In the opinions of others
Is no man to me.

I simply want to be happy with the person
That I see in the mirror.

I want to wake up every day
And live a life that is in tune
With the gentle voice
That I hear in my heart.

I want to write poetry
And walk in the woods
And for my words and actions
To be that of the higher energy
Which flows through everything.

I want to feel my mind as clear
As the air and the water
While feeling no distance
Between me and the stars.

I want to know what this life is
To be fully alive and awake
My eyes seeing what’s before me
Without any mental distortion.

There is no time to take notice
Of the noise of society
When nature is here
To tell me the truth.

That nature is my god
And my ambition
Is to live in alignment with it.

To be as pure as a sunset
As free-flowing as a river
As true as a lightning bolt
And just be ‘myself’

Whatever the hell

That really is.

poetry

~ Thawing Out ~

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~ Thawing Out ~

My bones like bare branches
Shake and shiver in the wind
That runs through my body

This internal winter is howling
As the wolves encircle me
As the frost forms upon my leaves
As mountainous horizons surround me

It seems like spring isn’t coming
Maybe it doesn’t happen anymore

To go on and endure
Is now all that I can do
Searching for some warmth in the wilderness
To sustain this soul

Oh, what this life can do to a person
To leave them wandering in a space
Where the kindest eyes can’t see
And loving words not reach.

I’m not dead
But I’m stuck somewhere
Where the moonlight doesn’t inspire me
Where music doesn’t resonate
And even this poetry
Doesn’t do much anymore.

There is nothing to do but wait
And look for signs of life
Some sunlight coming forth
From the clouds of discontent
To burst the buds from my branches
And thaw out my frozen spirit
That sits waiting for the touch 
Of something it has almost
Forgotten.

poetry

~ This Burning Mess ~

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~ This Burning Mess ~

I wanna write from a place where no one else has been before
I want to pour forth new truths that could have only come from me
I don’t have time for words that don’t mean anything
I’m not here to put down more scripted sentences

I’m here to speak my truth
To scream and shout
And share something in my soul
That little bit of unique fire burning
Only the way it can within me

It is fueled by all my pains and mistakes
By all my victories and defeats
And I want it to blaze bright
Showing the light
Of all my life has been

This burning brilliant mess.

poetry

~ And What Are You Scared Of ~

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~ And What Are You Scared Of? ~

Scared that my life will become pointless
That my soul will be diluted down
My mind filled with garbage
And my words lacking in truth

Scared that nothingness will become my reality
That the mirror reflection will be empty
My eyes devoid of light
My heart shrouded in greyness

Scared that the bastards will win
And make me one of their own
And the wilderness in me
Will be paved over
Ground down
Drained of its colour

Each year I can feel that concrete creeping
The bulldozers doing their damage
My curiosity fading
My leaves being stripped away

There is a helplessness about me these days
The vigour of youth has escaped me
My inner voice remains silent
Even my madness begins to fade

And I’m scared…

Scared that these words will run out
And everything good in me will die
As my body becomes an empty vessel

Scared that I’ll grow old
And no longer see the beauty
Sense the magic
Nor feel the wonder

Scared not of pain or torture
Nor of death or darkness
But scared of existing
And breathing the air
And beating my heart
And waking up each day

While no longer being alive.

poetry

~ Fading Light ~

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~ Fading Light ~

And now the days lose their shine

This sun not setting like it used to

The birds in the sky not inspiring me

The clouds no longer dancing

Only drifting by in greyness.

What are my dreams and thoughts of late

I ain’t thinking like I used to

I ain’t seeing what I used to

Those things that once brought fire to my fingertips

Now do little, if not nothing.

I tell myself that all go through this at some point

The spiritual drought

The rivers of blood in the heart drying out

The spring in the step gone

Nowadays I stagger and stumble

With eyes not seeking anything

A passive journey to whatever

Which is usually self-pity

Or a bar entrance.

Meanwhile I look out and see the courage of other living things

I tell myself that the same energy exists in me somewhere

One day I’ll wake up to brighter and better days

The sunlight will penetrate my soul again

The flocking birds will lift me up

And inspiration will return.

But for now I sit alone in my bedroom tonight

And I can’t help but look out at the city lights 

And think of all the others starving and surviving

Drifting and wandering

Not even dreaming anymore

Just staring up at ceilings

Watching the lights go dim

And getting lost in the haze

Of being human

poetry

The Great Beyond

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purpose~ The Great Beyond ~

Out there in that space

My soul searches for something

Not available in these surroundings

My physical body walks these streets

I pick up things from supermarket shelves

And I appear as another person in the crowd

But really I’m sailing in a solitary sea

I’m scanning horizons for some sort of shoreline

To see those flags fluttering in the wind

Showing me the sign of a place

To finally call home.

I ain’t no great sailor

And my only compass

Is some strange feeling

Here in my heart

Propelling me ever forward

Towards something I can only feel

But not describe

At the end of the day, what am I

But another deluded dreamer

Digging for diamonds in the abyss

And searching the wilderness of life

For the light of existence

While trying to fight off

The waves of depression

And insanity