Just thoughts

Thoughts

Thoughts should fill my mind

but I am blind.

my words just hot air

and my tears just water

I sink beneath the autumn leaves

I am just caught here.

my sentiments just cliches

my ideas yesterday views

the true artists leave me

they pick apart my clues

My brain just wreckage

my poems just spoken

all thats left of me is shopping carts

and Tesco’s tokens

My wages are benefits

My unemployed gains

I am picking apart the drains

for my blood stains

everything I do

I haven’t even got a clue…

End of Era

Records and tapes

times that were great

when mobile phones didn’t exist

or were brick like

we went on hikes

long walks

football games in the park

until it got dark

we played board games

and weren’t board

hero quest and chess

Droughts snakes and ladders were the best

Rubiks cubes

Ice pop tubes

frozen lollies

going to the beach

with a brolly

being active roly polys

watching 4 TV channels

going to grans who always had the radio on

feeding the ducks and swans

with my Mum

Dad taught to ride a bike

without stabilisers

play fighting with siblings what could go wrong?

feeling invincibly strong

and a feeling of hope

the future wouldn’t be a joke

and it was the end of era

a 80s child a 90s young man

somethings you have to experience to understand.

War on myself (reverse poem try number 2)

In the war on myself

Its my dreams that matter

compassion is a choice

I choose to believe or is it that a lie?

In my 30 years or so of life has always been a battle

But my dreams matter

and that “Once upon a time” is a land where my heart exists

But unless I grasp at my ideals I will never reveal

What people think of me

I do love me

In the future I will still take myself to task

It will be clear that I may fail

only fools presume I don’t have the strength to go on.

NOW READ BOTTOM TO TOP.

Chemical lobotomy

Inside therapy if I ever had

an answer to a life so sad

in the mirror cold to the touch

we clutch at straws, we miss so much

I am your answer for now

chemicals causing balance

but still the illness wakes

shakes in answer to the sadness

which I cannot shake

I am the mist the fog

of depression

the court is in session

and I see chemicals

a prescription

an covert addiction.

When having someone to talk

to in the early days

May have prevented my fear and depressed ways.

Authors of the great myth

Given the gift

of sight

we fight and wrestle

nestling

in escapism

but it’s a prison.

she is out there

Sophia the goddess of wisdom

she spoke to me when I was 7

now I am nearly 37

I hear her voice

like yin and yang

Speaking her words to me

Am I just hearing things?

Is my mind just broken and in a sling?

Or am I just another author with a gift?

My guide

My guide

I know you won’t believe me.

I know you probably won’t see things from my point of view

I know your heart is beating faster than freight train

but I am you.

As the universe divides and fragments

I can see things that were meant and never meant

that were and never were

in your eyes,

the dreaming of starry skies

the Sunday morning rainbows

the sun that glows

the words permeating your story’s pages with ink

the way we sunk and sink

into grasping the everlasting

you by no means are not a failure

you are the sea the ship I sail on and yeah

I know it’s a sea of salty tears

blown by the winds of love and overblown fears

but you are my guide

a force I cannot hide

as I take my strides

you are my power of three

and my truth I long to see.

Hallucinations

Hallucinations in my mind

carelessly unkind

stories in time

lies told

the truth smeared like ink

the pen tangled with delusions

confusing skin

I close my mind you enter in

the night howls

I cower

hour by hour

will the sky fall

I dream for us all

or it seems that way

I hallucinate a story

I cannot tell

my own personal hell

and yet heaven resides in there as well.