The feel of the pen
on the paper
the poet grabs a verse.
the dripping of morphine
the flow of endorphins
flow of electronic lines
across the monitor
let’s hope we don’t flatline
this mere mortal
needs a portal to the stars
this mere mortal needs
defibrillation to the heart
the way the poetry forms
in the lungs and the mind
the way life needs beauty
is sometimes unkind
I am the blood transfusion
Radioactive X-rays know
Poetry opens doors
I am the emergency poet
I will take flight
never shall I be tamed
But I will make that heart beat
and get you out of your seat
And on the road to recovery
Because poetry heals
and steals back our songs
what could go wrong?
In the days when the exception they say
doesn’t need correction.
we are all creative
but some have it beaten out of us
at some stage
the war the exceptional person rages
is either to have their words heard
or to keep their creative side alive
and not have it brutalised or strangled
an Angel or messenger of light
has to fight to maintain their angle of light
and their perspective and sight.
DNA well folded origami in our bodies
Oddly containing characters characteristics and souls
We grasp at a identity
Maybe DNA is musical notes
and a rhythm
To our heart beat.
The gobble de gook monster on your shoulder
do we get wiser when we get older?
I remain stuttering mumbling
my mind rumbling
I can’t actualise or realise
I cannot translate between mind and pen
and even when
I try to speak my tongue drags across the words
like a flat tyre on a bike
I wish this gobble de gook monster would take a hike
but he’s a part of me like the stories I tell
and even hell
is something I can’t be without.
Tears dry up easily
but my love is still fragility
I tend to my life like a garden
but sometimes you just have to let it grow
even the with the weeds you know aren’t good
life is better when we are understood
and sometimes we have to accept
the trauma that lies dormant
except for times of stress
when it grows nevertheless.
My search has ended
When two worlds collided
I expected fireworks
but they burn away
Fiz pop and bang
then no longer are a thing.
I love you but colours fade
I love you
my deeper shade my midnight blue
I know this life’s a prison for some
but I love it’s sweet bitter agony
it’s the loneliness I hate.
Butterfly wings of impossible things
wings are broken
tangled with a form
after a swarm
born from the caterpillar
which melts away
after eating a vast amount of leaves
It’s reborn, form breathes
breaks free of the chrysalis of time
Here’s a hand here’s a slap
here’s life without a map
parents too busy discuss
never mind get to know their children and trust in them
stem the flow.
I was raised by cartoon heroes
and superhero shows
and the games I played
sonic on the mega drive I never strayed
from their ideals
but my happiness was stolen
by those who created my tears
I missed out on my parents knowing what I could have been if they had of listened through the years.
Who gave you the glints in your eyes
the tints of blue skies
the angels couldn’t shroud your beautiful soul
I often take strolls
but doll your soul is gold
I am often left with fire when I reminisce
we never kissed
I made a promise like a watcher in the dark
your smile lights my way like a spark.
If humanity stood for kindness
not for the awful blindness of thinking they were better
if love entered our hearts and we wrote love letters to the earth
in the form of actions and weren’t distracted
then I wouldn’t be a Poet against humanity
I wouldn’t ask questions about our collective sanity
I’d only ask for love and peace
for life is unfair but we are beasts.
If we evolve into beings of light
then we must ask ourselves to fight
for to preserve justice
for that is humanities only hope.