The ghost child of the man in the asylum

In side the beaten white walls of an mental institution

where people go to be uprooted from their delusions

Sat a man his hand outstretched as if holding hands with the dark

No spark to light his way, only the tragic marks his way

he used to play childish games by himself

look they say where is his mental health?

has it left him altogether why does his play childish games

he would call a name on the wind

for the child he lost unbeknown to them

Tilly or Matilda the ghost of a child of six

who he held in his arms before he was sick

she swallowed her tongue in an epileptic fit

but before then were eye spy and guessing games

before then were pin the tale on the donkey and blind mans buff

I guess we are all in a way sheltering memories like ghosts

In the places in the heart we hide

which we can never move away from no matter how we stride

or how many steps we take

life is sometimes an evil fate.

To die at sixteen

All your dreams never started

dearly departed

That’s how I felt

Kneeling on a hospital floor praying to you

to save my life

you are my goddess of wisdom

my teeth going rotten

like the dreams I had as a child

it’s heart wrenching

my parents said my psychosis

was a bereavement

the life intended, lost

I had to be mended there would be a cost

goddess of the universe, girl with many faces

I have been through a war with myself

but my mental health

is the thing I can never get back

but sometimes their are cracks of light through the wall

I know the goddess understands us all.

Andover ash tree stream

Andover means ash tree stream

The ash tree was said to be the tree of life

we are born from its ashes.

Andover ash trees

Rising from the Ash trees

we are the dust

from those trees

the first man and woman rose from the ashes

maybe we were born in the fires

of dead worlds

every boy and every girl

are Phoenix souls

New Beginnings

As the old years cards fold

and we are dealt a new hand

when we’d give anything to understand

Fate’s plan.

we have to make as much as we can

Of our lucky stars

and hard work

whether lord or lady or office clerk

we hold the keys to doors unseen

we must follow our dreams

or facilitate the dreams

of our children

and even when

our cards are a bad hand

we can take the odds

and sods

and ask for help

for love is stealth

and it can over come

so don’t be glum

turn over new leaves

Life is better lived

when we move forward and breathe in new air

The colours that bleed into one

The rainbow becomes white light

All we love we long for and fight with

pages torn, we try to forgive

and live on.

The anger we once held

falls away in the cold light of day

We preach to the pavements

that people walk on,

they point the way

chalk quotations written on and on

can’t you tell?

Love is the only sanity

the only truth we lean upon.

Hope bends like a trees branches

but the light on the river still dances

we flow like water

whether sons or daughters

we catch the light that’s brought us here

pigeon toed we may walk

The road the pavement goes on

Serenaded by destiny’s song

we are the children of the roads

we walk.

But for every rainbow

There is a price

living each day as it comes

and fighting to not be numb

but when all is said done

We are our shades

the river water the blades of grass

heaven has always been here no need to ask

grab my hand feel it’s warmth

in the chill cold air

I know you care

when you clasp my hand in yours

I know life the great teacher will settle the scores

and for all it’s flaws

it still has the power to open jaws.

I am your gift

Gifted to you

not in the greatest wrapping paper

but I am person you can savour

not aesthetically pleasing always to the eye

but to you I would never lie

I speak the truth

I can make you smile

all the while

you can’t buy me from any supermarket aisle

I am your gift

you can’t find me under a tree

I am too big

I am messy but no stig of the dump

I work hard for you walking in trainers my pumps

I am your gift

remember me when your having a bad day

I will come round and lighten your sadness as much as I can, ok?

for I am a friend the greatest gift of all

is when you and I rise and walk tall.

Grumpa (about a Grumpy Grandfather)

Grumpa

Sitting in your old arm chair,

With a devil may care,

Attitude.

Talking about the ingratitude

Of youth.

Watching TV,

Eating microwaveable meals,

Grumpa,

I still love you,

I remember the times when I was young,

and you helped me,

when I was stung,

by a wasp,

or fell over.

Life is hard,

it makes you,

grumpy and 

lonely,

Please think of the things you’ve shown me,

Rather than talking about the things that make you despair

I know behind the passive aggression you still care,

I know I sometimes take the Mick,

But really Grumpa,

I can see all your tricks,

There is still, to my surprise,

magic behind those eyes,

And bedtime stories waiting to be read.

Grumpa, 

Don’t lose the thread 

We all need a grandfather like you,

For you have all the experience,

You will know what to do!

The narcissist trap

I stare at my phone screen

dreaming, scheming

I need constant attention

what a wonderful invention

I need likes and comments

I can write sonnets

to myself

in my Instagram posts

I can puff my chest and boast

but all my dreams are toast

I am narcissus staring at my reflection

on further inspection

I only love myself

and this phone is an extension of me

I shouldn’t choose to die

but this life is self absorbed lie.