I want to swipe left on this world

I want to Swipe left

On this world

no love finds me

no matter how I try

the right way to live is to cry

but at least I am here

I leave my mark

my divinity just a spark

I have written a thousand poems of longing

I have ached thousands days of love

and never been touched

I clutched at thousand straws

fought a thousand wars

in my head

if I could ever be respected

I’d choose love instead

as love is hope

and fear is respect

I answer in the tongue of the goddess

the only language I understand

in the chaos which haunts and daunts me.

In the cupboard of lost purposeful poetry

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the poet unpublished poet finds themselves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.

Unexpected artwork

The way the sunlight causes shadows through the leaves.

The movements of trees on the breeze

sycamore seeds twirl in pirouettes

as they helicopter to the ground.

Hag stones form

magic is born

from impermanence

decaying ghosts of leaves

erosion flowing free

the changing of the seasons

the reasons of life and death.

Unexpected artwork of nature

forming then fracturing and breaking.

The caricature of a feather floating free

in the minds artwork free

as a bird in rapture

captured in a photo in my minds eye.

The great reset?

The great reset

Another life that we regret

internet slaves

Jesus saves?

not when we entered into a user agreement

we didn’t read

life bleeds mini micro chips

and the rich

have globalised our living rooms

with listening devices

they have loaded dice

playing with our lives as toys

Whether we are scared little boys

or frightened little girls

ours is our world to lose

frightened to lose or drop our black mirrors

and life is losing freedom enough to cause shivers

while A.I sizes us all up

and drink from the cup

of internet fake news

while we are all enslaved

and nature is destroyed In the smog

of our tortured histories.

The fight for sanity

Dead Gods statues crack eroded by time
I am your nightmare
tears form a weapon
they threaten
to never stop
I am your communion a blood for wine
Liquid divine
we feed on Jesus
whether your faith or mine
Its based on a fallen world
How long have we been in servitude
To a god who puts apples on trees
Then tells us not to eat
I will wage a war on idolatry
our reality is love and light
But we are engaged in a fight
for our sanity.

Antithesis

I am the silence when you are talking
When you travel by car I’ll be walking
When you are arguing I’ll be at peace
I’ll be the pages in the book you’ll be the crease
You’ll be the night I’ll be the star
Shining bright from afar
You’ll be the gun I’ll be the bird in flight
That you miss
You’ll be the punch I’ll be the kiss
You’ll be the heartache and I’ll be the bliss

I’ll be the antithesis to your thesis
As we collide in opposites as we attract
We will also repel
Who will win out who can tell
in this black and white world.