This wasn’t the life that was advertised

I am surprised

and yet lies

are a belief of some kind

they advertised this life but it has been unkind.

They teased social mobility

the agility to move into the middle class

but aspirations

fall short

they distort

where realised truths stands the door

to the psychiatric ward

where holidays abroad

stand a benefits trap

a DWP map

with no way out

I doubt

I will find a way

into a future a brighter day.

This life isn’t as advertised

through google goggles

through YouTube models

I don’t have a car

three kids and a wife

I have pain and strife

Pessimism is my crutch

no offers or as much

No one gives me a chance at a job

they just call me a benefits slob

I look after my Dad as carer

they swear yeah

even when diagnosed with a serious mental health problem

they think I robbing

tax payers

and no amount of praying

will solve

when the life as advertised dissolves.

Honesty

People don’t want truth

delusions and illusions

are more loved

more accepted

more respected

Honesty, a fools game

people douse you in shame

a repulsive mix

stick and stones

may break my bones

but words will dethrone

a king from his own throne

and people will turn away

and leave him alone

the mirror of truth is always distorted

we want to keep it that way

we aren’t objective

we want to be respected

but our public relations feed on Facebook

would bleed away if ever we showed who really are

Our fragility and our fragile ego

Break like a dropped model of Lego.

A different operating system

My iOS

is analytical

my circular thinking sometimes is an ellipses

my blacklight is the moon

I sometimes feel a sense of doom

pessimistic gloom

whether I am apple, android or Linux driving this computers machine

I laugh until I scream

My search bar is Firefox

not Google

It’s has an interesting internet history

why is a mystery!

special interests

religion

Science

and philosophy

A cacophony of voices

and anxiety about choices

My App Store has flaws

is yet to be developed

my operating system

has ghost code

I sometimes have to try to avoid goblin mode

I find social stuff hard

Autism spectrum disorder

It’s hard to understand

even with AI

I know I am wired differently

I just don’t know why?

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

My last act

Cut off my sellotaped glasses

staring at asses

of girls I can’t have or marry

carry the child I am into the sham

bury all I am

did I give a damn.

yes yes yes I did…

amid tragic transformation

and a pure imagination

spoilt only by being a man

who cannot understand

the state of this world

So throw my body to the flames

a heart who can’t be tamed

full of tearful shame

and guilt ridden blame

I am the anger inside a coke bottle

shaken with mentos falling inside

afterwards fizzy fallout

I will be spent and full of doubt.

Peter Pan as a Man

Drifting from day dream dramas

Karma an unhinged beast

feasting on imagination

His righteous indignation

blushing red against his skin

but chained against his respectable aura

he didn’t want to grow up

He’d rather blow up

like a bomb

Songs gather enemies embolden

the golden days are over

fairies watch dying in the distance

His shadow takes over leading him on

Peter Pan as a man

He’s forgotten to dream

to feed the crocodile of time

these are the days that loose their shine

corporate suits kill

never land roots lost

We all grow up he’ll never settle down

lost in psychosis

waiting for cleansing osmosis

telling tales no one believes…

Voiceless child

I was wild and free once upon a time

a child with time and rhymes

but my parents can’t listen

just thought of me being bad

curbing my behaviour

they couldn’t be my saviours

I went quiet wanting to start a riot

It could have gone two different ways

but life strays on to one path

the aftermath of which

made me a background poet

my poetry is the ink I bleed

from wounds I don’t need

My parents need me to be their counsellor

but I can’t

I just can’t…

cycles can be broken

when loves awoken

but sometimes I want to fight back

to see the crack

of light through the walls.

Waking up

Waking up on a cold brown leather sofa

Not knowing who I am

a man and women ask me how I am?

I ask them if they have any children?

they say no

then a child comes in from the voids light

it’s her birthday

she says I will never drive as knight rider plays on tv

then she asks for a sister and two appear

more birthday girls although one older and one younger

Years on I went to that house

a girl not the same one says something terrible happened here to you

because of you

I hear it in the whispers on the telephone

I see visions of the man being arrested

how did I get home?

memories fragmented

this waking dream won’t relent

I am prevented from seeing what happened

The Emergency Poet

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

the illusion

of poems

bells chime

Electrons flow

Radioactive X-rays know

Poetry opens doors

I am the emergency poet

I will take flight

in flames

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

and discovery

Because poetry heals

and steals back our songs

what could go wrong?