poetry

~ Runaway Soul ~


~ Runaway Soul ~

My first trip was when I was nineteen
I spent a summer in Ghana
working at a local newspaper
for an internship related to my studies
(that would at least please the parents)

But really, I just needed to get out
throw myself into some foreign field
and let my mind be blown to pieces
by things I had not seen before
and would not see again

That was granted
and one year later
I was on a plane to Australia
where I spent a year wandering around
working odd jobs
staring out at sunsets
drinking with strangers
writing poetry under the stars

And then one year after coming home
I was back on a plane
this time: South America
six months of total madness
a twenty-two-year-old high on life
and drugs and women
and anything else I could get my hands on

It was my youth, my time
and I was going to take it by the balls
and have my way with it.

I had thought about other things worth doing in life
but to me, it was all about the experience
and I wanted as much as it
as my blood and brain and liver
could handle.

Seven years on nothing has really changed
I’m still planning that next trip
still running off into that sunset
still trying to find that magic something

I don’t suppose I’ll ever find it
at this stage I’m not sure I even want to

I just want to keep running
sprinting into that sunset
drinking with those strangers
staring up at those stars
another hopeless dreamer
lost in space and time
drifting in the cosmic ocean
and just falling in love
with this strange
thing called

life.

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poetry

~ The Unicorns ~

The Unicorns

Real people are rare.

Sorry, but it’s true.
Just listen to the conversation
In the typical crowd.

How safe their words
How constrained their behaviour
How manufactured their movements

Where are the real people?

The ones without masks?
The ones without scripts?
The ones just doing –
Whatever the fuck it is
Their heart tells them to

Such people are unicorns
In this current society
Of careful appearances
And mass conformity

Those who do not submit
Become outcasts and outsiders
Lingering in dark rooms
Avoiding the world
Like the plague it is.

I guess that’s what makes them so rare.
But it brings warmth to my heart
To know they are out there

Somewhere.

poetry

~ Caught in Nowhere ~

~ Caught in Nowhere ~

And the people my age were not like me
And the people younger than me were not like me
And the people older than me were not like me

I am caught in nowhere
No place to be
Or job to work
Or woman to come home to

This is how it is:
Approaching the age of 30
Living in a small rented room
Losing my youth and mind
Alone in this shit show

It’s just me and the word
Same as its always been
Hoping that somehow this madness
Will save me from this world

The reality is that I’m just another self-obsessed writer
Who can’t write a good poem to save my life
All I can do is spit out this pain onto the page
To at least feel a little better

There’s not much more to it than that
And believe me, I wish there was
I wish my words were good enough
To be found by some hotshot editor
Who sought to turn me into something
Different from what I am.

But what I am is inescapable
And this I have to accept:

I am alone in this
No job to work
No place to be
Nothing to get out of bed for
Nothing interesting to even write about

Caught in nowhere.

man sitting alone

poetry

~ Leave It ~

~ 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.

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poetry

~ No Filter Necessary ~

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~ 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.

thoughts

~ Moving Forth ~

~ Moving Forth ~

“And one day I just let go of it all. Of the anger, of the resentment, of the pain. I threw it into the trash and felt a relief flow through my soul. I looked at the world again as a child; all that possibility and opportunity, my life was mine to do what I wanted with it. I didn’t need to let my past define me. I didn’t need to stay bitter and cling onto past issues. A new lease of life was upon me as I entered a new phase of being. I walked those streets with my head held high; I brushed off all the little stresses and inconveniences; I looked into mirrors and felt a great strength in my heart. Peace and happiness gently let itself be known to me. Like a butterfly sitting on my shoulder, it looked at me to tell me “see, I was here all along.” And then I looked up at the sky with my eyes wide open. A new adventure was coming; the story of my life still unfolding. It was time to move on. It was time to grow. It was time to move forward into something new and wonderful and magical.”

poetry

~ A Hidden Wonderland ~

‘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.

thoughts

~ Once You’ve Made it Out of the Woods ~

“And once you’ve made it out of the woods, your soul will not be the same. Though you will be marked with internal scars, there will be a great strength inside of you, the strength of a person made tough by the crooked wilderness they knew and endured. Once you’ve made it out the woods, your eyes will look different; their innocence will be lost, but in place a great fire will burn, the fire of a warrior who forged their own path out of hell. Once you’ve made it out of the woods, you will not fear the darkness, for you’ve already stood in it with the demons encircling you, and you know what it was to slay them down and move on out into the light. Once you’ve made it out of the woods, life will not be such a terrible task, and the sight of the sun will allow you a smile, and blue skies will be magical, and the fact that you even exist at all will cause a great laughter in your heart. Once you’ve made it out of the woods, your words will be a light for those still stuck in it, and you will realise that you have the power to save lives and lead people back home and do everything that is good and worthwhile in this world. You will walk with a silent pride, and you will not be moved by everyday struggles, and when the peace and happiness comes, you will allow every part of your body to know it and feel it and delight in it – once you’ve made it out of the woods.”

woman sky

thoughts

~ Cave Dwelling ~

~ Cave Dwelling ~

“Too often I stared into that mirror and felt pitiful and pathetic. That reflection showed me the things I didn’t want to face. I was a gollum, a wretch, a creature belonging to a cave. I had some dirt in my soul I couldn’t get out, but just try to scrub out in futility. I thought I deserved love, but I was sensitive in a world where the cold-hearted were the majority. I had to hide away; to hide myself far away from their piercing eyes. I retreated to the dark spaces to try and survive on the scraps of whatever strength I have left. Within those shadows, I resided myself to a life of loneliness and isolation. I came to realise that some of us are not destined to have inner peace and happiness; we are the broken ones, the lonely, the castouts, the rejects. We are ones that just do not belong to any heart or home. Our lives are ones of tragedy and heartache; of despair and desolation. And yet through all of this, light sometimes finds its way into my cave, offering glimpses of hope for me to crawl out too. The idea that one day I’ll stand back in the daylight; no longer locked away in the darkness, but standing strong and free and accepted for who I am. Finally escaping this internal prison. Finally being free of this living hell.”

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thoughts

~ The Burden of Sensitivity ~

~ The Burden of Sensitivity ~

“And it emptied me. The hopelessness in my heart staring into her eyes. The lack of chance for any real connection. The thought that no matter how many eyes I stared into, there will always be this empty space inside of me that would never be filled. I knew somewhere inside of me I was destined to be a loner till the end. I could feel it in my bones. It was a world not made for those whose hearts hung open like broken screen doors. Such sensitivity will see the storms flood into you without compromise. Your heart will become drenched; your interior ripped and torn apart. You will sit alone in that cold wondering how to find a way to warm up and dry off. In the meanwhile, you’ll look out at the world around you and feel like you’re cursed. You watch the people stroll through life so easily. You see the hands of lovers connect. You observe their smiles and their laughs – that out of reach happiness that never comes, but arrives so easily to the others. To be a feeler in this crazy world is to suffer tremendously, but in a way you end up depending on your suffering. It shapes you. It defines you. Drenched in the unrelenting deluge of your own emotions, you will go through life feeling the weight of every moment. The sadness of the sunsets. The heartache of the years. The loneliness of the crowd. The pain will become almost like a companion to you as you stagger on through the years. In a strange way, I guess I couldn’t even imagine another way to be. Without this state of being, I wouldn’t know where to go or what to do. Without that pain in my soul, I wouldn’t even recognise the person staring back at me in the mirror.”

sensitive