And Then The Sun

And Then The Sun

I watch and I wait
Contemplate,Twisted thoughts
irritate.

But it will pass,
It will pass.

Passing night,
Long long hours,
Midnight fright,
Forbidding towers.

But it will pass,
It will pass.

Pace the floor can’t relax,
Music on to drown the noise of
Twisted facts.

And it will pass,
It will pass.

And then the sun,
And then the sun.

And then the sun comes crashing
Through the shuttered glass,
Illuminates my morning mind,
Extinguishes my mourning mind.

And the sun casts away the long dark shadows,
The sky,
eternal possibility and
flowering meadows.

And we can be all we desire.

CRY

I feel better when I cry
Why?
Is it a pleasure to mewl?
Tears of joy or tears of pain
The cause different, effect the same
To sob, blubber, bawl and wail
Release the tension, let it out
Shed some tears, whimper and weep
The issue remains
But now I can sleep

I feel better when I write poems

I open new doors

when I write new poems,

through new words

find new worlds,

take off the sack of burden.

New verse, like a universe,

a new lyric eases the mind.

When I read it out

I feel lightened,

no reason, no rhyme.

No big word blues

or how to spell them.

Pen fills paper with feeling

Injustice turns to justice,

rejection to acceptance.

My heart becomes the court

and I decide the sentence.

The power of words

sharper than swords

My misery grinded

on the blade of a poem.

Drowning Man

As a drowning man grasping for light and air
You grapple with the inky blackness
Before bursting into the azure blue
Like a rocket rushing upwards
Then twirling gently down as a Catherine wheel
Until you reach your true level
As a bright flower
On the surface of the still green water

The Best Journey

The Best Journey

In the early hours of New Year’s day, rain drones
mood not much different from the yesterday’s gloam
until I think about journeys: a sense of welcome
in City Lights Bookstore, unexpected comfort in a hotel room,
a cafe playing “A Sunday Kind of Love”, where the gloom
lifts. Home to frost on the car jewelling in the sun, freedom
to travel and discover more places with welcome.
Even so, the best journey from anywhere is home.

Running

In these troubled times,
more often than not
I find
that I am happiest whilst running.

And it makes me feel a little sad,
because it’s a lonely thing to do.
But the grins at the dinner parties
and the mugs in the pubs
only make me nervous.
So I lace up my jogging shoes
and choose music on my faithful cheap, knackered and battered mp3.
And at the moment it’s the drinkers, the sluggers, the fighters,
who are singing to me.
Old poets who have been there
and then come back.
I seem to need to know their stories.
And as I bounce beside the river,
it’s like a score, a fantastic soundtrack,
as the music moves with my world.

A cracked voice falters,
Gently unfurls,
Sighs down the chords,
Two gulls dip to the water,
Then soar,
Away, away and high.
And it’s beautiful.
I wonder
Did God have music in mind
When he taught them
How to fly?

And other such thoughts as I pant heavily by
and stop and rewind
a verse that I love,
and listen again,
and watch the stillness of the heron,
the steel backed black moorhen.

And I’m happy.

I need this journey.
Especially the halfway point,
where,
heart pounding,
I stop,
bend,
breath,
slowly turn upon my tracks
and with legs aching, chest heaving,
I follow the flow of the river home,
and I know
that I have been there,
and that I can make it back.

I Feel Better When

I feel better when I’m with my dude he gets so excited when I enter the room, so much it’s like he hasn’t seen me for a month or two.

Whether I’m happy or sad he doesn’t question my feelings, he just welcomes me with such love it’s healing.

He doesn’t change his mood like people can do, he shows me all the love I need which helps me through.

He greets me with his big brown eyes whilst wagging his tale for a little while.

He squeaks and wiggles his nose like a pig, as he runs through the field after his ball or a twig.

He loves his walks and sleeps in the night, he spreads his love full which is full of delight.

From morning to night he never judges me, he is so Loyal it overwhelms me.

I feel better just knowing that he is there, to welcome and love me whatever through joy and despair.

He motivates me when I’m feeling low, with his wagging tail…… “Come on mum lets go”!

I feel better when I’m with my bud, Riley my best friend my loyal non-judgmental dog.

The Forgotten Tree

There was once a tree in a big forest, with lots of other trees.

This tree felt low, sad and very lonely.

This tree didn’t grow like other trees or bloom in the Summer or shed leaves in the Autumn.

This tree was very depressed.

Until one day someone took notice of this tree, took the time to spend time with this tree and understood this tree.

Until one day this tree bloomed in the Summer and shed its leaves in the Autumn.

All this tree needed was someone to support this tree.

Many years later this tree that was once a very low, very sad and very lonely tree was now the tallest, healthiest tree of all!

The Dream Witch

What is the point? Can anyone tell me, does anyone know?
Time’s in reverse, just go with the flow.
With the sun and the moon aloft in the sky,
The reaper can’t land, so off he must fly.
When attacking the weak, the strong think they are brave
While the Watcher awaits, on top of a grave.
The time is a’coming, the Cloud Master will rise
“But who will oppose the Dream Witch,” he sighs.

When nightmares turn real, and dreams are forsaken
You knock on the door, hoping to waken.

When the mind is so pushed that the barriers stretch,
The unreal becomes real, then darkness falls.
The mind is so fragile and easily snapped.
So what does it take to pull back from the brink?

As winds blow on over; the lands howl out their song,
Deaf ears are hearing that everything’s wrong.
The stars are ablaze, their fire so intense,
The moon is so cold, your mind makes no sense.
If people could see the damage they do,
The dead would sing, that much is true.

For when you are dead, they’ll see it’s too late.
The edge was too close, but that was your fate.
They pushed too hard, and over you went.
Just one last prayer bursts forth from your lips.
But the Dream Witch is here, with her hands on her hips.

Hate to love

I hate to love the laughter in your eyes,
Because it makes me feel again.
I hate to love the sound of your voice,
Because it makes me see again.

I hate to love the way your hair hangs in your face,
Because I long to finally express myself.
Most of all I hate to love you because it’s in these moments of love,
I realize I have hidden away and stood still,
whilst the world moves on.

Perhaps it’s time for me to open up and begin my journey,
Again

I feel better when I am…

When it is calm like water,
When all you can hear are the waves from the ocean,
Above the birds are chirping,
And the wind blowing across making the leaves on the tree rattle.

I feel better when I am free like a bird,
High above all, and there is no scared to fall,
I feel better when I am at home,
Surrounded by family, whom I love of all.

Challenges I have to face, making sure that I win the race,
Many are in the same boat, but there is only one from all to choose,
Selected are those who have passion, and show determination,
Proud, I was to be selected from those.

I feel better when I am myself, and not pretending,
I feel better when I am accepted for who I am,
I feel better when life brings new challenges and opportunities,
And I feel better when I am someone who is known.

Life is like seasons, which change over time,
With each passing day, I feel myself grow,
Opportunity came my way, and I would be a fool to turn it away,
Today where I stand I call my second home,
This is the place which will give me my identity, and a future to secure,
I feel better when I am at work, and LPT is where I belong.