Ghost stories

Rain falling on the decomposing leaves
cold autumn air breathed in warm lungs
the wind blows muttering ghost stories
into our ears.

Pumpkins carved into wickedly twisted smiles
we dress up for Halloween discos and parties with style
gathering sweets as we go
while the full moon glows

Bonfires built as we wait for the 5th of November 
when fireworks will explode and sparkle in the night sky
we remember the gun powder plot 
as we toast marshmallows on the bonfire.

You are darkness

You are darkness

but there are stars shining in that darkness

the night gives the stars room to shine

and heaven is a heart that mines

all the diamonds in the sky

for us when we die

you cannot have the light without the dark

you cannot have light without a spark

which illuminates the dense darkness of night

we gravitate towards the light

we need it’s warmth like a beacon

otherwise we weaken

but the dark is place of growth also

and we grow in the dark towards the light.

A man filled to the brim

A man filled to the brim

with importance like a full pint

waiting to have his glass smashed

and the contents on the bar room floor

in a bar room brawl

or drunk or consumed

by time

I unlike have had my confidence dashed

my pint glass gone it’s contents drunk

I skulk in the background

I was only ever a lemonade man

in the shade never seen or scanned

by eyes

my life never pretty lies.

The change from boy to man (my journey)

I remember my dad calling me a hobbledehoy

neither man or boy

teen ageing is hard
I became a wild card
bottling up my emotions and becoming unstable
I remember the good days and bad
But at sixteen
in my wild dreams
I broke down in sobs and screams
at eighteen
I was diagnosed schizophrenic
but I realise that madness is a pandemic
and most of us will flounder
in its sea of tears

Inside the mad man

The clammer of the overthinking overwhelmed mind

chattering away with itself like a overused hard drive.

Hope, but she is a caged bird waiting for her master

faith but all faith is enslaved in disaster.

A sonnet of despair, a song of solitude

a monologue of filth and the rude

a innocent boy and a prude.

A crazy overbearing self talk squawk

a chalk drawing of heart that’s been erased.

A penis looking up at the sky

A black dog biting its owner

A loner waiting for the strength to cry.

Freedom from attachment

but a wanting to be engaged and attached

Discourse divorced a face scratched.

silence like a scream

a dream turning into a nightmare

a blank stare

a daydream being expelled.

Hell carrying on into a lonely hello

An eye open that cannot be shut

a slut shutdown clown

love becoming only a noun.