Why I write poetry
It was after a painful breakdown at the end of my first year of college that I had my most painful experience – a breakdown which had me questioning my life, my existence and the world around me. This existential crisis continued for a long time and it was suggested to me that I use poetry as a form of therapy. I loved rap and its lyrical content, Eminem’s lyrics also spoke to me. Although I did not know how to replicate them and why Rap had such narrow fields of topics they wrote about, I remember Eminem talking in one of his skits a short track on his album about only rapping about certain things.
I have learnt since, that you should write about what you know and form your own creative voice. So, of course my first lyric was innocent and sweet like a chocolate treat! Although, looking back, it wasn’t my finest work, I soon wrote my first poem, “When Love is an Alien Word” with my sister, Zoe’s help. I can still remember how elated I felt at creating a piece of poetry I was actually proud of.
Writing poetry became my addiction, I found it incredibly cathartic. It helped me to realise my emotions, thoughts and desires. I wrote a poem about homelessness and read it in church for the opening of Two Saints homeless hostel and found that it resonated with people. It was a very moving experience and made me realise how powerful poetry can be and how it touches many people’s lives, enabling them to think and question life.
That is why I wanted to be a poet. To do all of those things. To create art through my words. To make people think. To question the establishment.
The Grail
The Queen of cups
stands at the door way to this life
holds a sword of power and might
angels wings and long flowing blue dress
a goddess of wisdom, beauty
and unrest
she waits for her knight
the bravest man of this world
to free her and her children from this mortal coil
of reincarnation and rebirth
Her softness not slight of hand
but the courage of being resolute
with all that she understands
the man who holds her favour
a wounded knight
but one who defends her with all his fight
tempered by fire like a diamond shining bright
but the moons glow hides him from sight
in the cold pale night
he lives without her until he can prove
that the cosmic chess game has no more moves
but stalemate
His mind may be brave but it does saturate
with insanity
but she bears with him until he inhales all of his fear and calamities
and exhales hope and freedom from those worries and tears from his humanity
no illusion will shatter his will
no matter how vulnerable he becomes
He will grasp her hand still
and understand her virtues
through dark times when he would question his allegiances
and his promise that he made her
no trickster no hidden dragon will make him fall from grace
he only wishes to be with her and see her smiling face.
From an alien’s perspective
Do you find aliens receptive?
From an alien’s perspective
we are all weird as them
worshipping dogma and tired beliefs
thinking nothing can bring relief
but on this planet
the birds the animals the insects and trees
are as alien as alien can be
yet we see them everywhere everyday
religion tells us a story
but we are born from the extraordinary.
Chasing payments just to live on our planet
paying taxes and learning to talk
it’s no surprise we go insane and baulk
at what we have to do everyday
controlled in every way
By systems of mismanagement
engaged and married to people we will never understand
but love the universal force
stitches us tighter together than crochet
and we use the word ok more than we should
if only we could see through the stress and mess
to make this world a better place
but perhaps on an alien planet
they have the right idea
instead of living in fear
fear and love are powerful forces
and when they work together unfortunately we are slaves to them
so live a life alien to some
be the one who understands and overcomes
don’t be numb.
From Andover in Hampshire
Dear Jeremy Clarkson
Dear Jeremy Clarkson
This is my letter for showing myself to be thankful for being on benefits
First of all I’d like to thank the DWP
for making it so easy to claim
It really really isn’t degrading or a pain
supplying copious amounts of evidence
Or getting my friends to help fill out forms every few years for health conditions that don’t go away or can’t be cured.
Society its self doesn’t add stigma or prejudice or pressure or any way to claim these monetary benefits.
I love being supported and in no way does it induce any fearful reaction or discomfort or distraction to see articles such as yours Jeremy. It feels great to be treated like a scrounger who is undeserving of a life of disability.
Yes I do have abilities that are prized by society. And have protested against cuts to Pip and other benefits. Which the people of this land of course understand how hard they are to claim. Sometimes PIP is the only thing that allows people who are disabled the adaptions and ability to work.
On a personal note I hear voices and have to mask my autism on a daily basis. I feel my life isn’t worth it sometimes. But I do like to grovel to people like you. Who did it your way and didn’t have to deal with the same situation as mine.
I know you shine like a beacon to all of those who are not as deserving as yourself.
Yes I have fallen on hard times since 16 and have tried to work part time.
I know society doesn’t make it feel like a crime to live with my struggles. I know in this life so many care about my plight. And know the reality of my fight and struggle.
But when we the disabled people have been forced to live on the streets or are put into institutions and workhouses because of the grace of people like you. And you become disabled yourself and need help which is unlikely I do agree. Maybe you will see life isn’t as easy as you make out.
So thank you to the unpaid carers who support people in my situation.
Thank you to the NHS staff who or anyone who is kind and willing to help.
Thank you to all the people who improve my quality of life by reading my poetry and writing which is an out let for my dark feelings and thoughts when I am caught feeling melancholic and suicidal. You are all stars shining your bright light on my life.
There’s nothing natural about this love
We breathe smiles and similarly we simmer
In summer heat
play plastic Spotify tunes on repeat
there’s nothing natural about this love
we hear those songs in sugar, in saccharine smiles all the while telling ourselves it’s love
we bleed deep, weep, scream in our voices
in our souls for love
manufactured and distracted by love
to feel love but it’s over engineered
fanatical sycophants
who pant and swoon
but this love is more in line with the tomb
There’s nothing natural about this love
that has to be earned burned in our hearts.
real love just is it’s more natural than nature
and it is love
flowing free
not a trap for you and me
Word soup
I am a fork in a world of soup
a scout without a troop
a landline phone in a world of mobiles
a voicemail speed dial
a punchline which is a slow poke
a old bloke surrounded by stylish gits
a thong in a world of bras and tits
Facebook without the pictures
selfies at the right angle
a pen in a tangle
a stranger in a crowd
nuff said not loud
a cuppa tea in world of coffee
a defenceless toffee
in a world of chocolate biscuits
don’t risk it or me
cause i am too different
a black sheep in a world of white
a short skirt in a world of jeans
a nightmare in a world of dreams.
you may look
you may stare
but i am the unknown
you have to find me a home.
I used to be a messenger
I used to be a messenger
Now I am known as vermin or a pest
I used to deliver messages
To battle fields or other countries without a rest
now little children chase me until I fly
abandoned by the system without knowing the reasons why
Technology usurped my position
I was domesticated with precision
but now people view me as a flying rat
they have no use for me
I am redundant
de funked
lost my role
just another useless obsolete creature
in this creature feature film that is life.
The price of the future
Exist in the existential
the crisis governed by tech giants and moguls
quantum computing
rooting for data
Something that hates you and
our essence
more despised than a unlucky pheasant
about to be killed
we are the working class poor and disabled
checkmated in the game and despised because we are mentally ill
In the wrong way
depressed and anxious
rather than Sadomasochists with a superficial superiority complex
who sit with the latest tech
in their mansions
taking their chances all too soon
from us and causing us gloom
entering our digital tomb
where there’s no room
for our slave driven mindset ways
other than to serve the corporations and billionaires
the ones who say empathy is death and decay
and pray for our demise
hit with no surprise
this is the price we pay
for our dystopian future
no one wants
hidden by computer fonts
and AI
our overlords
who hoard wealth and knowledge like weapons
and fuck us with digital strap ons.