Tag Archives: story

Yes I lived

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Yes I lived

Walked amongst the trees

with the birds chirping

slurping my soup as it went down

tried not to wear an unbecoming frown

gazed in restless impatience

in the loud white noise of TV people

climbing church towers and steeples

and hills

taking bitter pills

but never losing the will

to hold on.

Yes sometimes, I lived to survive

if you don’t do anything you are not alive

I jet setted through my twenties

in my thirties now I am not prevented

from achieving my dreams and goals

despite my mental health bearing its soul

I am not always on the right track

but my heart I will not crack

I stay the course and live

for I am the many people I have become

and my curiosity I will never overcome

and I am the sum

of being ,seeing and feeling grace

and may grow wrinkles upon my face

and my tastes may change

for I still chiselling this life and soul from the rock

and time is ticking like the metaphorical clock.

Change your fate

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Suicide an shiny empty packet

War on the poor and disabled the governments criminal racket

What we leave behind only pollution

Only distortion

Only a walking abortion

Change your ways and your fate

Don’t give way to hate

Stand firm

We are not worms food

Don’t regret your life in any form

You were given a life from when you were born

Not empty

Or tragic

Give birth to magic

In this pen tangle

Create an angel

Out of the ashes

Of heart shaped gashes

Love is the twin sister of hate

and the dark is to light

Learn to master the fight

and hate inaction

Be the master of action

Leave the page full of words

and the sky full of birds

Which nest in the tree

We have grown

Don’t die alone…

Fight against Generation suicide

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Yes it does take bravery to die

by suicide

but you are breaking the hearts of those who love you

too many men and women take this route

without a clue

of the ripple effect

which cripples those who didn’t detect

Your intentions

We are a generation who have lost our meaning

In virtual dreaming

and our screaming

for a new meaning

But surely rather than taking your life and throwing it in the bin

you need to face your problems and try to win

for we all know life is a journey

and it burns sometimes with the glare of despair

we all know it can be shite

but we also should realise it’s short

and meaning can be found in the darkest of places

and the smiles we have brought to friends faces.

Every picture tells a story

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In the middle of a picture of industries gates

sat a man who just waits

Unemployed from his 30s onwards

looking for an opportunity

in this life of lunacy

photographed as a sign of the times

this life is full of grime and thought crimes

have we stolen a moment

is there any atonement?

for the man who now sits on a corner

from the established systems in place

who like to hide from the despair on his face.

The language of love

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Is it hidden?

This body language

which rides up

the hem of skirts and trousers

Is it a smile that stokes the fire

like a poker

is it the emotion of being a joker

a fear of being alone in the dark

no spark to light your way

Is it truth?

or is it fiction?

is it an addiction?

or is it in the scent

of pheromones or the way you gently moan

when you are touched that way?

like alley cats

we spit, bite and snarl

but all the while

we need the language of love

and it speaks through everything we say

but in mystery is still shrouded to this day.

The silence before a storm

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We are waiting in the voiceless shadow

Padded cells inside the gallows

angels chained inside a soul

legion my man is out of control

dripping darkness of the void

whisper your name before it’s destroyed

life’s a curtain lost not deployed

life’s uncertain it’s cadence a heart beat

ghosts and devils retreat

in the violence of your stare

in the glowing embers of a fires glare

in the stabbing tenderness of an aching heart

beats a rhythm that no one can tell from the start

but the storm is brewing in the sky

like the reapers blade in the shade

the song bird cries

but all I am left with is sighs

Charity

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I am me and you are you

but there for grace of god, go you or I

sleeping rough on the streets

one job loss away

or one benefit sanction

how can you think you are better

than your good luck

born into the right family

having the right salary

to keep your head above water

I caught you cursing those who claim

the poor and disabled

we need to give them a ladder to climb

out of their circumstances

or is it another life to be thrown away

with no more chances.

These are the days

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There are days when we toy with innocence

there are days when wear despair as our clothes

days when we truly open our eyes

days when we want to keep them closed.

Days when we have to restrain the pain from our hearts

and there are days when that pain departs.

Days when we feel loved in the morning when we wake

and days when we feel so far away from that love

that we just have to hold on and take the love we are given.

Days when we pretend to be free

and days when we really do hold the key

to doors unopened before.

Days when we feel we can take on the world

and days where we hide in the corner.

Days when we appreciate the flowers and fauna

when we see the beauty of a drop of dew on a rose

and see a new religion being formed

a new baby being born.

Days change what we think and who we are

days where we travel near and days we travel far

drink in the moments and savour the day

because its drifting away

and its all we have!