Paper bomb

If we could read all the love letters

the poetry projected over the years

the ink would form the night

the words stars

the sun our intention to love

Would rise every time we wrote the words

the sky and birds

would scream we are alive

I would use the paper and poems we wrote

to drop from the sky

letters and prayers from us to god

to breach the void between us

The elation of creation

within our United Nations.

A manual for being human

Exit womb

enter hospital room

feed of your mums breast

grow big and strong

play and learn

have an active imagination

listen to the voice that guides you

and makes the most sense

write your story present tense

find beauty in what you like to do

it’s that simple

Make your smile into dimples

don’t focus on looks

it’s your soul being tempered

by life’s fires

give it what it wants

you can change the narrative even if it’s the font

remember people love you even if life gets in the way

be a compassionate friend to yourself first

It’s all in your head

It’s all in your head

the schizophrenia

the uncertainty

behind the curtains of your mind

to be special,

to be magic is to be tragic

to be alone

than one of your drones

is your superhero ability or curse

left in the storm of denial

we are all crazy here

with broken smiles

token, broken people

who believe in science and logic

So pluck your theories from the air

and prove you care

you make the meaning

even if your dreaming

It’s all in your head

so drive yourself mad

and stand alone

even the devils throne

is not comfortable but it’s home

The erosion of empathy

You play hero I will play villain

though shades of grey exist and the truth not always willing

to rear it’s ugly head

filled with the expectation of being cancelled

and being heard

or Amber Heard

is different from being adept

or Johnny Depp.

we are divided down many lines and labels

and what we are being told merely a fable

when we can’t take it with a pinch of salt

and we halt

and can’t show a sign of empathy

How did life and judgement get so unjust

and all cards we hold are bust

because we no longer care just lust over celebrities

while our empathy is eroded and no treaty

or thought police AI can save us

from not understanding the people we see before us.

Pestilence

I am a prison of puppets

muppets who can’t free themselves

Supermarket shelves bare

I am cursed

empty pursed.

lips dry and empty

swept under the Carpet of artificial grass

I can’t be arsed

freedom is too hard a task

I am can’t save myself

for all grasping

rearrange the letters in my name

it spells denial

I can smile

but happiness won’t change a thing

I can’t stop dreaming

scheming

a way out of dread

but pestilence fills my head…

Lifted

If only we could be lifted

gifted

a chance to love

I threw mine away

in the cold shadowy day.

I would of gave you grace

bled my out stretched arms

given up all my magic charms

for one night with you

I am a poet I feel things deeply

And yet I can’t imagine a world where we are together

your eyes of soft radiance glowing

all seeing all knowing

your smile lights my dreams

candle lit scenes

and forever I hear your voice

entangled in my head like my dreams.

Is anything really new anyway?

Beat box

Sounds the same

dubstep bass sound gains

the themes of songs will they run out

recycled like words of revolution

films and their titles

characters and dance recitals

books and villains

psychosis and chilling vendettas

is anything really new?

colours and musical spectrums

songs on the radio, a selection

the human condition and reality

dragging out themes

daydreams scream

they generate our generations dreams

can we be different

can we be new

can ideas be lost

can they grow inside of you?