The Throwaway poet

A Throwaway poet

With throwaway poems 

trying to sow seeds of change

to rearrange 

Your thoughts and life

My rhymes are tight

but like paper I recycle ideas 

put them in new ways 

to pave the roads to futures unseen

where we can dream

I am a poet put my poetry in the bin 

read once but change within

come back and memorise my verse.

I am the vessel for my pen

even when

you can’t see me I am philosophising

comprising 

of revolutionary action

but maybe I am too much of a distraction 

to make you do any action

or you are too distracted 

with your contract

your job

To bother with Dan

I am just a man

who thinks he can write poetry 

so throw my digital poems in your recycling bin

and letter the paper burn

or compost

I am you and all you have lost

I am the pages 

the war you wage

from this desperate stage

In this level of the game

you can throw me away but you will know my name.

No comfort in loneliness 

I talk to the mirror every day 

that man tells me I am warmer than the cold frozen touch of the mirror

but can I forgive her?

or her me 

her voice in head 

a thread of fate which is stitched through with

red

like the blood in my veins which bled

through my scars and cuts

I am a slut

for attention 

no panic prevention 

it attacks 

through the cracks of intrusive thoughts 

my war is fought.

I was taught to think I am evil

sinful and need to be saved

But the mess that’s made

is that we all look to a man hanging on a cross or tree

and don’t face our own selves and personal responsibility 

there’s no comfort in being numb 

in the corner 

over medicated 

frustrated 

about how your life turned out

we only have this second 

and the way it beckons us on

I know in your voice of hatred I grow strong

because it’s attention 

not what I wanted but maybe what I needed 

Darkness turning into light

Darkness turning into light

my fright turning into fight

all sadness I restrained

turned into love

my eyes focused on her

my picture on the wall

a flower opening her petals like wings 

begins to make me sing 

I know my true foes are triumph and disaster 

both are foolish things to master

I am time 

the fading 

into blades of grass

then emerging into the everlasting 

I am cast into the fiery furnaces of hell

tempered by water the river banks swell 

the steel of sword that comes out my mouth

Will protect the people I love

but sometimes will fly away like doves

and the bullets fired 

Will miss

and we will kiss them away

with words that heal

and reveal

hidden truths

like super sleuths

and detectives

that are respected.