Words bleed from me,
Letters leave my body from open veins of creativity.
Sometimes jumbled, incoherent,
Into the aether they're sent, to be read or ignored. Augment
them, turn them outside-in,
anagrams or acronyms, with pride or chagrin
put your poetry out there.
Language is to be shared, embellished with flair.
Emotion translated into verse,
Eyes will traverse stanzas and then we converse
about what makes us really sad
or what makes us angry, or glad.
We realise that life is the best poetry we ever had.
Monday, 7 September 2015
For the loss of a loved one there is no cure,
You aren’t sick. You can’t get better.
You move forward, metronome,
stutter, stumble, slip, trip and fall.
Pick yourself up and lean on me,
Cry salty tears upon my shoulder
and I’ll be your rock, nay, your boulder.
In times like these your friends are sentinels,
Standing tall, showing the way,
guiding you along a path to a better day
where the pain will fade;
no longer a cut from a sharpened blade.
Just a dull ache surrounded by the warm glow of
memories from better times.
Let us hold your hand and walk on together.
Monday, 8 April 2013
I'd love to see the world through a 1 year old's eyes,
A place that's devoid of corruption and lies,
Where everything is adventure and opportunity awaits,
And where you go next your imagination dictates.
Where the world is big and scary and fun,
You don't speak- you scream, you don't walk- you run
Where flatulence fascinates and laughter ensues,
How I'd love to walk a mile in those baby shoes-
Where each step's a move forward into the great unknown,
Where there's never the fear of being alone,
And every mistake's a new lesson to learn,
The worries of the world are of little concern;
A double dip is a game where daddy throws you around,
Fighting is just play and War is a baby sound,
Climate change is when mum puts the central heating on,
I miss those days where the sun always shone.
That world must be marvellous from a baby's point of view,
The fascination of experiences that are alien and new,
And at the end of the day when it's time for a nap,
Fall asleep with loving cuddles in mummy's warm lap.
Thursday, 11 October 2012
A chocolate digestive,
Can be quite suggestive
When you’re trying to watch your weight.
The cocoa infusion
And an anxious mental state.
You steadfastly refuse,
And sit and peruse
Everybody devour theirs whole.
While they all savour
The chocolaty flavour
It’s the death of a part of your soul.
I shouldn’t risk it,
The beautiful biscuit
At the risk of destroying the diet.
Shoved under my nose
My conviction dissolves
Oh go on then I’ll just try it.
Friday, 14 September 2012
There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,
Than anywhere but here you see
I’ve had enough of all this shit,
Liars, thieves and hypocrites
Surround me like a toxic cloud,
Enveloping me like a shroud.
I feel the grasp of death’s cold hand
Around my neck, I cannot stand
My legs go weak, my heart, it races
The thought of staying in these places
For any more of my precious time
That leaks from life like spilled vintage wine
That drips and pools upon the floor,
I’ve had enough, I’ll take no more
Unwarranted, unjust abuse,
I’ll seek escape and slip this noose
And dodge the axe above my head,
It’s not my time to join the dead
There’s life in me, I’ve more to give
So now I’ll take this life and live.
Friday, 7 September 2012
My daughter say’s “ga, ga goo”
But what she means is “I love you”
Or perhaps she needs a nappy change,
The look upon her face is strange.
Damn, is this a poo-face or sick-face?
Take a gamble and then it’s a race.
But either way it ends in a mess,
Baby wipes out and another change of dress.
My frustration builds and I echo her screams
And my mind feels as though it is tearing at the seams
The sleep deprivation is taking it’s toll
I fight to maintain my last bit of control.
And then she looks up at me with her baby blue eyes,
My anger and frustration fades and then dies
And my heart swells with pride as she whispers my name,
“Dad” – with that one word nothing’s ever the same.
I sit and tune out, like a wireless with a broken aerial
Because a static buzz is a better sound
Than this din of despair that is driven into my mind.
Fog-horn voices, hurricane of harsh opinions
Stated as fact.
Within this whirlwind I wait,
Treated like a rodent with the voice of a mouse
They tread on my tail and I squeak,
Scurry away to hide and await my fate,
The snap of a rat trap.