I’m house sitting for the next six days, and recording some songs I’ve written over the past year. Aghhh! Woke up this morning terribly depressed (as I sometimes do) and demotivated (Why? When you suffer from depression it just happens). … Continue reading House Sitter #3 – dark dregs
My last vestige of hope Beaten from me with the crowbar Of fear and distaste in your eyes Each blow taking my breath Bloodying my mind and soul Making me less of a man Until there’s nothing left But anger at the injustice of it all The irony of lie and truth If I’d lied there would be no hurt but my own With the truth there is your pain and judgement which I bear But my conscience will go on I lost the war before it began So raise your club and beat me Again and again and again … Continue reading Defeat. A poem.
Wasting away for you It’s the least that I can do Collapsed into myself My own considerable hell Lying here balled and foetal A fate completely total Floating in dead space All oxygen sucked away Darkness perpetuated Emptiness encapsulated Exhausted and beset Consumed with regret Wasting away for you It’s the least that I can do Continue reading Wasting. A poem.
An average car tyre Covers thousands of miles Before it gets to the end of its time Rarely a smooth ride The tyre bumps and slides Goes round, then flattens and dies Some days I’m a tyre Just rolling through strife And always left wondering why And if I’m a tyre That explains why I’m tired Of going round and round all of my life Another experiment in meter, timing and rhyme. It’s based on limerick structure. I like to try different poetic forms. Free verse is cool, but sometimes I think I use it a lot because I’m a … Continue reading Tyre. A poem.
Isn’t therapy wonderful? It makes you feel so good to get all that crap off your chest. Or bad, depending on how it goes. But what happens when it doesn’t go to plan? Continue reading Session. A short tale.
Nobody said life was meant to be easy. It’s funny how someone can read something and only see what is on the surface. Poetry runs much deeper than that… Continue reading The Bed I Made. A poem.
I blame myself for a lot of things. Actually, I blame myself for everything that’s happened in my life. Here’s a poem about that. Continue reading Outlook. A poem.
I often get depressed at the worst times. Like today, when I have to do work for uni and my motivation is at an all-time low. The solution? Write aimlessly about depression for my blog. Yes, I’m sure that will solve everything (I may claim to be a writer, but I never claimed to be an intelligent or coherent writer. Or a man with a plan). Sometimes I play guitar to get me back to a reasonable mental state. But, as we all know (and as I should know, by now), music played by sad people often tends to be…sad. … Continue reading Everything is awesome. Not.
I often feel like a wandering spirit. People look through me as if I’m not there. I wrote this poem for them. Continue reading Ghostly. A poem.
Lost in the crowd, familiar face from a past long forgotten… I write poems about me and stuff that affects me. That’s just what I do. Continue reading Defaced. A poem.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop being a stupid boy. I’m trying to be better. I wrote this poem about it. Continue reading Stupid Boy. A poem.
Atmospheric periphery Horizon where oxygen thins Light and dark, yang and yin Moonlight shines upon the rim Skirting stars and floating things Reflects the place and state I’m in Continue reading The Place I’m In. A poem.
I once found a pair of brand new sunglasses in an elevator. Rather than turn them in, I decided to keep them (terrible of me, I know).
They change the shape of my face when I wear them, almost making me a different person. When they’re on, I almost have a sense of increased confidence and lessened anxiety. Does that happen with you, too? Continue reading Shades. A poem.
The sum of all regrets Like dew drops in my hand Drying in the morning sun And leaving nothing left But the air I breathed That filled me up Was good enough Good enough Continue reading Absolution. A Poem.
I felt the rain more deeply than ever before It flowed like chaotic capillaries down my face It mingled with tears, a salty, alchemical mix It touched my tongue, combined saliva and cotton mouth It washed me clean of tragic irony and bittersweet regret And when it stopped I stood there dripping, alone as always Contemplating when it would fall on me again Would I accept its cold, cleansing embrace Or would I shrink away to a warmer, dryer place This poem is another experiment for me. I’ve been trying out different free verse structures and meters, and … Continue reading Rain. A Poem.
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