Tag: writer

thoughts

~ The Way of the Seasons ~

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~ The Way of the Seasons ~

It was the start of October and I was sitting in the garden on a sunny morning, trying to soak in some of that last warmth before the winter came. The dying leaves fell around me and I watched one float from side to side, twirling down before finally landing on the grass beneath my feet. I looked at it for a second, admiring its golden flames. Then I saw a wasp. It was crawling beside the leaf and eventually crawled on top of it. I was expecting it to get up and fly away, but it just stayed there on the dying leaf for a while, before eventually carrying on stumbling through the grass. It quickly became obvious to me that the wasp was dying too. Summer was over, and this lawn was a battlefield with the last remaining survivors. I then turned to look at the table beside me. I had my laptop with me and I could see my reflection on the screen. Thirty-years-old, I could see myself ageing rapidly before my eyes. The forehead lines were more prominent than ever, and my eyes looked tired and defeated. This is the way of the seasons, I thought to myself. Death and decay were inevitable and I looked back at the wasp and felt a comradeship with the dying creature. Our fate was the same. We were all staggering through life, falling to the floor, being made weaker and weaker before finally finding a suitable place to die.

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

~ A Breakthrough ~

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~ A Breakthrough ~

I think I’ve finally done it
And broken through to the other side
I see with a clarity I’ve only read about
Each step forwards takes me nowhere different
I’m not an isolated being lost in the universe
I am a piece of the entire thing happening
My actions are the result of some higher energy
That runs through everything I see around me
The wings of the birds belong to the same body
The stars in the sky come from the same source
Each one shimmering majestically
And in that fire is the same heat in my heart
As it beats in tune with everything else
Causing me to look around me like a new-born baby
My eyes shining as they process how beautiful it all is
How trivial my concerns were
And how very wonderful it is 
To be alive.

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

~ Not for Me ~

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~ Not for Me ~

Where is your soul man
I wonder as I listen to your words
And watch you judging me
Despite not even knowing me
You don’t listen to my reply
As you bark on about yourself
Telling me how great you are
And then shitting on me
Because you make more money
And have different goals.

Don’t you see how ugly you have become?
Your face is mangled and distorted
If only you could see it under the right light
With the right instrument
You’d be able to see how damaged you are
And that maybe you are not as great as you think
But deep down I suspect you already know that
As you bark out your stale beliefs
Declaring of your greatness while high on drugs
Trying to make me guess how much you earn.

I hope one day you will sober up
And your voice will go quiet
So you can finally hear the inner voice 
That you have tried to drown out all these years
And you will discover how poor you really are
As you face that Monday morning mirror
On another comedown at work
Back to your life that you need to escape from
As the truth weighs down on you,

That you’re a bad person.

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

~ What I Want ~

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~ What I Want ~

Standing in a room alone
Occupying this space with my thoughts
I want the whole world in here with me
To know what this feeling is like
And see if there are others feeling this too.

At the same time I want to be taking off
Leaving this earth behind as I ascend above
This vast universe opening itself up for me
As I get lost with no way of coming back
Sailing forever among a sea of stars
Where my soul will feel something
That only infinity can evoke.

I’m a mystery to myself
Some days I think I know what I want
That I am settled upon this earth
But other days I’m left feeling something
That cannot be accurately said
But only felt deep within
As my eyes stare into the skies
And my heart aches for something
Not available in these surroundings.

I guess I’m not the only one
Haunted by indescribable feelings
Looking at what is in front of me
And deducing that it isn’t enough.

Like every great dreamer,
My bones long to dance in some forbidden place
The greatest and grandest of palaces
Which can’t be found with sane eyes.

I want to delve into the deepest caves
And find the gold which has never been seen.

I want to experience the totality of the galaxies
As my soul is set alight
By the essence of existence.

Bricks and mortar isn’t enough.
Weekend revelry isn’t enough.
Those items advertised to me on TV
Aren’t enough.

The incompletion is true,
And I want to find what perhaps
Every one of us secretly yearns for
That something that fills the soul with light
That causes death to become laughable
And finally satisfies the eternal ache for the ineffable
That exists in us all.

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

~ A Damaged Man, But An Honest One ~

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~ A Damaged Man, But An Honest One ~

For the first time ever
I have to think about what I’m writing
I normally just threw words out into the world
With flippant disregard
For what anyone thinks of it
But now I have a girlfriend
And my girlfriend has parents
Who take a strong interest in her affairs
Which naturally includes me….

Her mum is following my blog
So she sees all the things I write
My poems of destruction and darkness
And, I assume, makes opinions of me from them.

Freedom is essential to expression
And what is a writer to do
When he feels self-conscious
And even constricted
About the words he is writing.

The way I see it:
She is probably going to read this poem at some point
But I just have to accept that I’ve started down this path
There’s no turning back
There’s no quelling my voice
No shielding people from the savage truth
That runs rampant in my heart.

I’ve started so I’m going finish
And keep on sharing my words
Bellowing out the secrets of my soul
On this megaphone
Like a crazy preacher
In a city centre square.

Yes, I’m not a straight-edged person
I’m not a poster boy partner
But I am a human-being
Who is in touch with his core
And I speak with total authority
About my experiences.

My life hasn’t been a smooth ride
I’ve been on a turbulent journey
Searching this world for purpose
While finding trouble along the way.

I’ve veered close to death and madness
And broken my heart a few times
But I’ve also found inner peace
And developed a sense of self-understanding
That has inspired me to put my defences down
And open my heart to the world
To share my story.

This is who I am; this is what I do.
I will never hide or edit my feelings
Or write poems to be read out at social events
Or to impress bosses or in-laws.

My words are bloody and uncivilised
They may make some people uncomfortable
And perhaps make them see me in a new light
Not always a favourable one.

But doing this gives me something
That purifies, invigorates
And keeps me living a life
Of personal truth
And freedom.

So here I am:
A damaged man
But an honest one
Who has decided
He’ll keep on writing
And showing his scarred face
While being unashamedly
And unapologetically
Himself.