Some daysI want to open my wristsAnd let them breath in reverseTake the irony of my existencePaint it in the colourOf lonelinessEmptinessHopelessnessAnd watch it flowSlowlySurelySluggishlyDown the porcelain sinkThat holds all my pointless dreamsAnd wash them awayMaybe thenI'll find sweet reliefAmongst the ashes Choose life. Every time. Don't give in to suicide. Life is too precious to waste. Steve Continue reading Amongst the Ashes. A poem.
I watch the rain on my windowEvery drop running a chaotic raceTo get to the bottom of my pane (pain)Never the same path twiceAs if utilising eidetic memoryEvery drop a consequenceEvery drop a choice (never) madeThat flows to the bottom of my pane (pain)Where it merges with the restAttaining its watery goalTo be accepted again Continue reading Pane. A poem.
Hole Depression returns Bottomless hole inside you Who will fill it in Stay Anxiety strikes Enemy insurgency I’ll stay home today Tears Unending clown tears Laugh and cry until daybreak Carnival sadness Continue reading Down. A Haiku Trilogy.
A picture of togetherness Written in elemental script Captured then in time serene A picture that made sense, it seemed Once upon eternity Before the poison settled in A picture of two frozen smiles But what in truth do they relay When hollow eyes betray the scene A picture of faded sepia Now all bitterness and disregard As if the picture had never been Continue reading Picture. A poem.
The distance to you Miles between An infinitude Yet there you stand So close to me The work of art And the fool Continue reading The Distance to You. A poem.
Time passes Wounds heal Leaving scars And memories Of tragedy That fade But never disappear Completely But make us Who we are Continue reading Wounds. 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.
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.
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.
Good lord, I can’t believe it. Me, a guy who is so security and privacy conscious, who is IT-literate and generally pretty smart, fell for one of the oldest scams in the book. Well, not quite fell, but almost. Scams are rife in the world of online dating. Lonely older people are easy to prey on. And having been lonely for a long time, and now in the mature (over 40) age bracket, it appears that I’m now a target. So how did it happen? Loooong story. How about I try to move on from my embarrassment and just tell … Continue reading Online Dating Scams – don’t be a target and a victim
My head hurts. As always.
If I drank, I could blame it on something.
Alas, the blame is all me. Continue reading Empty. A poem.
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