Tag Archives: inspiration

The cure to the disease

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The cure to the disease

Sparkling and wondrous

the cure to the disease

Experiencing unease

take these pills

tiny white capsules

that won’t make you ill

distilled love

wonder from above

the cure like forest bathing.

misbehaving

often the cure is the disease of a life

lived without regrets

all targets missed and not met

But to try

is to live and not die

a love fragile

but agile enough to succeed

to bleed is to be alive

To breathe is to thrive

the madness the sickness

is to expect no pain

no sadness in the rain

sunshine that burns the skin

balance is boring

whatever gets you through

is the life you choose to do

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…

One day I might live up to being a toy character (spoken word poem)

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One day I might live up to being a toy character

out of paw patrol

or hey dougie

A wizard or witch who has mastered the

art of magic

instead of tragic

rock star

or a burnt out old poet

maybe I will be reincarnated as Pegasus

to fly on by

in the clear blue sky

with fluffy clouds

one day I might be a superhero of my own making

in a graphic novel

or a saviour of person trapped in a hovel

I am definitely in awe

of people who aren’t bores

what are we if we can’t dream

of being better?

and writing our own stories and letters

to our imagination.

Schizophrenia awareness day Poem

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Schizophrenia and the caveman

I dreamt of telling stories

forged in magic and music.

I heard voices of gods

angels and demons

In the flickering flames

that kept me warm.

It was part of my evolution

but sometimes

did wisdom is seen as mental illness

Nowadays I am known as a schizophrenic

I was a caveman with a shamans knowledge

Now they say I am something to be feared

When I was just reaching out

to understand.

This life (my life so far)

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People tell me it’s easy to reach forty

I waged a war to get here

At 10 years old I ran away

a post man found me

and delivered me back to my mum

At 16 psychosis blew my mind

always out of step with time

At 18 I found poetry and rhyme

but suicidal tendencies stuck in my mind

At 21 I climbed a mountain in foreign land to see the Dawn

At 25 I wrote a letter to myself at 16

Because although I saw stars I still bore the scars

from my breakdowns

At 30 I pressed the reset button

and found myself in hospital again

but my life twisted and turned my heart burned

I found creative writing course which inspired at 32

I recited poetry on the radio too

and fought for community projects

to advertise and endorse

At 40 I live my life

I show love and remorse

I fight to live but that’s what life is for me

but in between moments of pain and work

Is the happiness I desired and the freedom I planted like the seeds that formed a tree

I sit in their shade

One day my body will fade

but I will be a soul free in the wind

guiding others my kin.

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.

Dreaming worlds that never were (spoken word poem)

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Silence traps daydreams

energy burns

the multi verses yearn

worlds that never were

outstretch themselves in time

The universes machine purrs

and her soul pines

for her lover to set her free

she creates doors for just one key

she speaks through us all

just to speak to me

I seek answers but love is the only answer we need

but in this daydream my healed hand bleeds

and sometimes hurts

she is my reason my soul

I am the messenger of the monad the mind of heaven

the hour is late the end is all ready here

it’s time to let go of all our childish fear.

The history of words

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Words have a history

it’s not a mystery

If you do the research

from racist toys

for girls and boys

we have to respect

words have a history

and so do objects

so please have some respect

and acknowledge the implications

we all want to be loved above stereotypes

and life is cannot be lived in present only;

history matters

and leaves us sometimes in tatters

words will often leave us broken

hurting us more than sticks and stones

and broken bones.

I want to swipe left on this world

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I want to Swipe left

On this world

no love finds me

no matter how I try

the right way to live is to cry

but at least I am here

I leave my mark

my divinity just a spark

I have written a thousand poems of longing

I have ached thousands days of love

and never been touched

I clutched at thousand straws

fought a thousand wars

in my head

if I could ever be respected

I’d choose love instead

as love is hope

and fear is respect

I answer in the tongue of the goddess

the only language I understand

in the chaos which haunts and daunts me.

Themes of life

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From Cinematic skies

to the cemeteries where they lay us to rest.

From the hovels of the poor

to the grand entrances of lords.

From ladies who go out on ladies nights

to men beaten by many fights

the stories we tell ourselves

not sold on supermarket shelves.

From the desperate love in ashes

to tattoos of hearts set like gashes

from the schools classes

through to the waiting rooms of life

from the mother cradling her daughter

to the Dad fighting his way through wars and slaughter

to the conventions of gay and straight

the way we breathe in life and wait

or wipe the slate

and find foundations and roots in identity

and eventually bridge the gaps

born into this life our mothers and fathers telling us stories for maps.

Themes of life and love

the great adventures there of.