The erosion of empathy

You play hero I will play villain

though shades of grey exist and the truth not always willing

to rear it’s ugly head

filled with the expectation of being cancelled

and being heard

or Amber Heard

is different from being adept

or Johnny Depp.

we are divided down many lines and labels

and what we are being told merely a fable

when we can’t take it with a pinch of salt

and we halt

and can’t show a sign of empathy

How did life and judgement get so unjust

and all cards we hold are bust

because we no longer care just lust over celebrities

while our empathy is eroded and no treaty

or thought police AI can save us

from not understanding the people we see before us.

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…

You look at me with eyes that don’t remember

In your eyes the tragic reminder

that memories fade

into the void

and get destroyed

I loved you more than my heart conveyed

though time is a blade

it cuts out the good and bad

memories or leaves scars

the stars that aligned

now fate has mined

and we with left separated when we should have been entwined.

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

Orpheus

Orpheus

A beautiful poet singing beautiful poetry

oh no…

lost your wife

went to hades with your life

made king hades and Persephone shed a tear

and let you in

Resolved to rescue your beautiful dead wife

but you would fail

When you turned back she fled back into hade’s shades

destroyed by love

destroyed by love and loss

pray to the sky that you will meet her again

but love is just beautiful blood stain

and what we are is merely blood, fire and dust and a soul.

Exceptional

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.

In this aching

In this aching

waking dream we live in

I love you is hardest thing to mean

I wait,

but waiting has no solace

my heart I polish for you

but will the stains wash out?

I won’t doubt you are worth it.

Reaching me through the void

and shadows

I cried out to you when they held me down

In the A and E ward I told them who you were

But like big cats don’t always purr

you are something to be worshipped

glorified and feared

If perfect love has no fear

it is love that has been realised

and actualised

I wait in the shadows

dancing in the dark

love is the flames not just the spark

to light my way…