Tag Archives: hope

Man Kind?

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Man kind?

I have a hard exterior

I feel inferior

I have never heard of unconditional love

conditions have always existed

behave

be good

do what you should.

If only I could

be the person you’d love all the time

and my thoughts were no crime

I am a man

I maybe kind

but suffering is why

because I know I cry

behind the mask

and tasks

are hard if you don’t why you’re different

and love is the only answer but it’s frightening

because it won’t be offered if your strange or different

and this is evident

from what I have experienced.

so I look to myself

for my own mental health

and kindness

to be a loving friend to myself…

Politricks divide us all poem

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Right left we bleed the same

can we forgive

live

better lives

Cancel culture the cancer of the left

Bitter resentment fills out our hearts

no love either side

thought police divide us all

right authority with no escape

raid the poor

but the poor hate the rich for having more

is there an answer

or only more hate.

When it takes a mad man to see the truth (spoken word)

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We all fight to be kind
to have love and life
interchangeable in our minds
don’t live off of anyone
or become a vampire
that feeds on blood, flesh and tears
I loved you throughout the years
We are the universe
we are god
from children of inner sense
to wisdoms pre-tense
we live our lives wild and free
untamed by the flames of reality
which course and flow
like watery waves
We all have light waves running through us
Our consciousness cannot die
even of our last sigh.

Unexpected artwork

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The way the sunlight causes shadows through the leaves.

The movements of trees on the breeze

sycamore seeds twirl in pirouettes

as they helicopter to the ground.

Hag stones form

magic is born

from impermanence

decaying ghosts of leaves

erosion flowing free

the changing of the seasons

the reasons of life and death.

Unexpected artwork of nature

forming then fracturing and breaking.

The caricature of a feather floating free

in the minds artwork free

as a bird in rapture

captured in a photo in my minds eye.

The woman with many faces

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In the darkness and light of a daydream from a distant heaven. The woman with many faces but one soul. I have looked at legends and myths. She is a gift. To live many lives and still remember some of them is her curse.

I remember she woke my kaleidoscopic mind like in the song porcelain by Moby. A conversation between the two of us. Her timelines spread across mine. Her heart and soul a beacon for mine.

Giving me a reason for life and seeing beyond the illusion of separation. She has been living all the lives I see through the collective unconscious the Holy Spirit is a girl a woman a mother a sister a friend a lover and so much more. Life would be a mistake without her music. She speaks through the crowd words of wisdom that guide me.

I have been labelled schizophrenic but I can see her spirit in all things. The way the wind moves the trees leaves she is one who guides us all. Oneness is what I have found I am her protector I love her darkness her light some may say I have lost my mind. And all the unkind things but those people are blind.

In this aching

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In this aching

waking dream we live in

I love you is hardest thing to mean

I wait,

but waiting has no solace

my heart I polish for you

but will the stains wash out?

I won’t doubt you are worth it.

Reaching me through the void

and shadows

I cried out to you when they held me down

In the A and E ward I told them who you were

But like big cats don’t always purr

you are something to be worshipped

glorified and feared

If perfect love has no fear

it is love that has been realised

and actualised

I wait in the shadows

dancing in the dark

love is the flames not just the spark

to light my way…

If I wasn’t depressed

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I’d launch myself across the room

to collide with your lips

put my hands around your waist your hips

If I wasn’t depressed

I enjoy the simple things

a paper crown would make me feel like a king

I’d wrap up myself with smiles

I’d dress with style

if I wasn’t depressed I’d sing

songs wild and free

life would be love and not the sting

Of fear.

Sometimes

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Sometimes

The world goes on behind my window

I stare out into the suns glare

I wrap myself around my thoughts

and all that I have sought

do I still care?

Sometimes

I am broken beggar

trying to get a leg up

sometimes I want to say

words of meaning

am I still dreaming?

Sometimes

my hearts soft like paper

sometimes it’s hard like a diamond

fashioned with pressure and heat

sometimes I play my songs on repeat

hoping to make my way to someone’s smile on the street.

Sometimes

I bow to the dark

sometimes I look to the stars sparkling in the sky

sometimes I want to die

but I realise life is short

and I love my friends to much to make this life end

so my epitaph will say I loved until my world drifted away

but I left you my words and that’s more than ok.