The whisper of a shadow song
Morning star no glory
just a story
I am just lived backwards
hidden track words
scars like lines across paper
can I save her?
I am not what you think
drinking from a cup of agony
no God can save me
but death won’t enslave me
I am midnight verse
nails won’t surrender to my skin
the truth they told you the lies worn thin.
In the yellowed worn out dusty pages
the poetry that had a purpose is not lost
no matter how much the ideas cost
In this cupboard space
like the recesses of my minds eye
Ideas on the page never die
the reader if they thumbed through my poetry
would likely gain a paper cut or two
red ink another happening
mapping the page
the poetic wars we wage
on this desperate stage
between poet and reader
In this cupboard hidden away
will these poems ever see the light of day
like the dead poet lost in time
his reasons and rhymes
still unearth histories
and mysteries of life and of the earth
from birth to the finish
these ideas won’t diminish!
Maybe behind the library rooms and shelves
the poet unpublished poet finds themselves
and their voice
And these poems and half finished ideas
give a voice to voiceless after all these years
will be found and treasured and made into books
that people will treasure read and look
after finding this lost cupboard.
If poets continue to circulate their work after death what does an undead poet look and sound like?
Those who shout the loudest get heard
Their over inflated words
Squawking like birds
While the wise doubt themselves
books unwritten not sold on shop shelves
I once said that life was made up critics,
Well wishers and such
Life is becoming too much
Your golden platitudes no ones crutch
I cannot eat your words
Drink your well wished prayers
I only appreciate actions
they are my only distraction…
In the midst of pain
lies love
that shields us
it sustains our hopes and dreams
it doesn’t silence sadness
but let’s us open up
we all drink from a cup of love
even if sometimes feels
like it’s a small fairy cup
we won’t give up our longing
for people and places
faces that smile warmth
even in the darkest of stories
love shines through
it gives us happiness sometimes
and gives us unwavering faith to keep going
the seed of our growth
bitterness and hatred
aren’t the abating of love
they are merely the twisted distortions
of love
and if we understood that
we would once again understand
that love can save us all just reach out your hand.
Sitting in the darkness of my nan’s cupboard under the stairs talking to god
an odd little boy
Who wanted his dreams to matter
Who wanted them to be true
I needed love but I need my beliefs to be real too.
my life’s foundations aren’t love as they ought to be
but wanting to have a special relationship with the creating force or spiritual entity
or maybe to be special or chosen myself
I am the monster who daydreamed blue skies
but when the light in my eyes dies
who will I be?
the man with tears in his eyes for all he let go
the man with tears in his eyes because he never got to let his heart show
someone that they mattered above all
my heart was always a shield or a wall.,,
In the words we say, a shadow longer than midday sun is cast
Beyond the grave the sword that saves us from the axe
Beyond the taxes and tax collectors in this country vast
though we are but mortals
the books we read our portals
to lives we’ve never lead
our blood runs thick and red.
The shadow behind the sword
is the words we said sincerely
they are the nearly
meant songs of another world
A parallel world when utopia was cast
into years that lasted.
Real men
Real men know about issues
real men are not afraid to wipe tears with tissues
real men support their partners
real men are in touch with their emotions and mental health
real men strive to succeed
real men live to love and love to live
and they forgive
they have ambitions
and plan with precision
it is their mission
to protect, and nurture their family and friends
real men treat people with respect and know the message it sends.
Peaceful river flowing free
collected together by tributaries
I am a river we are the sea
we are all memories.
Peaceful river rains collected in a river bed
We are the words collected and said
shaping the land around
with indents of smiles
traveling together for miles
Peaceful river animals coming to drink
do you ever stop to think
and take a moment
to think about life’s dream?
what makes you you and me me
do you open your eyes to actually see
life beautifully displayed
Peaceful river fish swim
we watch them jumping
games and sports blood pumping
boats traveling up and down
and all around
trees with birds nest
the days we spend carelessly are the best.
I am a white Labrador
I don’t like other types
I bark and I bark and I bite
I am a white human
I don’t like people of other shades
I load my gun and sharpen my blades
I am a husky I like to play
I tussle I hustle and bustle with other dogs all day
I am a human being
I see that we are all different but the same
blaming other people is a playground game
I am an alien we been through all these struggles
On our planet we recognise that variation is fun and not trouble
and variation is also causes beauty in strange ways
we don’t come to fight we come to observe your planets creatures
But we are light years away but we’d like to teach you.