The ancient oak tree

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Plop-plop
the heart just stopped
the ancient oak tree told me to listen
but what’s with his call?

Hear nothing but rustling sound of the leaves
scared, confused, what is wrong with me?
‘don’t be afraid’, said the ancient oak tree
‘you’ve scared your dreams,
your courage and it’s not easy to redeem’

Close your eyes and listen
wind, nature are like musicians
writing songs and stories and so can yours
Don’t forget the ancient oak tree
believe, listen and be what you want to be
Plop-plop
and again with your heart

The Fire and The Flame

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The expanse of the desert
Is hottest at noon
But i prefer
The cooler times
At dusk, at dawn, the dunes
Turn blue
A humming azure hue.
The softening of the heat and light,
The warmth awash with tempered might,
The dulling of the minds taut burn,
Today we have achieved the sane,
Walked through the fire
Through the flame.

Fare Well

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Why must we end our voyage together—
Our brief encounter on life’s great sea?
And though I know we cannot sail forever,
I cannot yet sail and one trav’ller be.

But from this take strength, oh forlorn friend,
For before us both long journeys lie:
We shall meet at, or beyond the end,
Though stars may sink and sea may dry.

And in going, remember, you owe it to me,
And I to you – that if on life’s main,
A shipwrecked brother we were to see,
We lend them heart and strength again.

Flowers, for me?

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I bought flowers for myself today.
Red tulips, they were on sale.
Flowers for the sad girl with the sad eyes,
that stare out at me from the mirror

I catch her following me, in the reflection of car windows.
She mimics everything I do,
but she couldn’t be more different.
I silence her at night, when she whispers in my ear
This isn’t you, this isn’t us.

And I tell her she has no idea who I am anymore.
No one does.
I tell her it’s a good thing,
the world is too harsh for people like us

Ones who feel too much,
Ones who don’t feel enough.

There is no space for her,
No time for her sadness,
the world is too harsh for people like us

So I bought flowers for myself today.
Yellow sunflowers, like the ones Id grow with my dad.
Flowers for the sad girl with the sad eyes,
and I choose to be happy today,
I choose to smile at the girl that’s always watching me,
and since she mimics everything I do
She smiles back.

And today, I am okay.

Obviously Orange

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“George, George where have you been?”
This is how it always starts.
Rushed footsteps, bubbling giggles and then the outburst of “I’ve missed you!”
After that no one can get a word in edgeways,
For us the whole family dinner is a daze.
Reciprocal radiation, “you know you’re my favourite” I said
Because you’re so obviously orange and I’m so obviously red.

Wild Walking

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Stride over peat and puddle-shine,
While a curlew calls through cotton-grass;
Wade the nettles at the woodland edge,
While a buzzard mews above the copse.

Coffee tastes better
When it cools rapidly in an icy wind
Which blew the grains off the spoon,
Raindrops diluting it shamelessly;
Sitting on a gate or beneath a wall
To watch the deepening winter sunset,
Darkening clouds scudding across the sky
And the fairy-light houses below, in the valley.

Brush wild orchids on the soft downs,
While a lark sings high and full on the breeze;
Clink stone on stone in the mountain heights,
While wind-caught crows wheel silently below.

A sandwich tastes better
When it unfurls, slightly squashed, from the rucksack
Which sweated its way up into the heights.
The city is for lattes, where the shoppers ebb and flow;
Dining here in the lee of a rock,
Accessorized by mud and raindrops,
I feel better under the sky
When this is my elegant lunch.

I feel better when

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There’s a lot on my mind right now I just can’t think,
It seems that every night I find myself with a drink,
You see, there’s a lot going on at home right now and I just don’t know,
How to deal with it and where to go.

I’m looking on the internet trying to see if its ordinary,
But there’s nobody like me and it makes me quite cautionary,
I’m alone in this game with no other players,
Don’t know where to begin there’s just so many layers.

I don’t know who can help me, I need to find,
Somebody who can demolish this wall I hide behind,
It seems as though for me there is no escape,
But there are things I find which keep my sanity in shape.

You see, I feel better when my problem is shared,
My mind is more free and I’m less impaired,
And I feel better when I take time to reflect,
On the problems I have and the solutions to perfect.

I feel better when you ask me to sing along,
as opposed to questioning me, asking what’s wrong,
Because I feel better forgetting the reasons I cry,
Beginning to explain something that I could never even try.

I feel better knowing that I am surrounded by support,
Especially when it’s not something I’ve actively sought,
It’s because I feel better knowing there are people who care,
Who recognise me as an individual and don’t compare.

I feel better knowing that there are others in my position,
There’s more being done to appreciate my condition,
And I feel better when there are more people who understand,
That I didn’t choose to be like this it was out of my hands.

I feel better to witness the change in people’s attitude,
And for that I give them my utmost gratitude,
They’ve made me love myself to every letter,
So they are the reason why I feel better.

GLASS BALLOON

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You’re my glass balloon.

I’ll hold on tight
And see right through.

You hold me up
When I’m weighed down.
In the sky,
Above the ground.

We’ll fly together,
Over lakes clear blue.
A brighter world,
Our shatter-proof view.

Too much

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Everytime
I try to heal myself
I share my pain with the World
Because it knows
Better than me
That I will feel better again

Flowers in bloom

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It comes in the dead of night
When the slate of day is wiped clear
It ticks, it tocks all through the night
And the voices are all I can hear

Each fresh day is spoiled in bloom
From the very stroke of the midnight hour
The air is dry, taken from the room
and from this depravity will come no flower

I often wonder how it feels
To live each day and start anew
Yet I exist in this reality, me,
a hollow ghost you look right through

I have walked this lonely road too long
that I know no other path to take
And I know my mind should say, “get better”
But I ask myself, when I lie awake:

Do I feel better when,
The bad thoughts circulate again?
Do I enjoy the misery,
That comes with the territory?

If I think that I deserve the pain
How can I stop it from preying again?
In the weakest of times
When these thoughts prey
It’s hard to see another way.

Believe one day, you’ll start anew
In life, you’ll see the value.
The flowers you thought had died will bloom.
Their presence will light up the room

And a petal may drop from time to time
But another isn’t far behind
And through the times of struggle and plight
Look toward the sun and shower in the light.

Blue With You

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What would I do without you?
My saviour in the night,
Whisking me away from my problems, whilst you drown in your own.
Gently I’ll coax you back, I’ll be your buoy.
If you’re sinking take me with you, we’ll fall into those murky depths together,
And when we arise hand in hand soaked in our own tears
We’ll feel better, despite being wetter, we’ll feel better.

Unshakeable

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The lips show a slight smirk,
Face to face,
A message behind the eyes,
Hidden within the depths,
Strength. Power. Determination.
Nobody can move this woman,
She is unshakeable,
Silently powerful.
The lips show a slight smirk,
What’s inside?
Quiet determination.

The Power of Two

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Looking into the kaleidoscope of your mind
reminds me of the cracks in my hands.
My hands to you, your mind to me,
deep and uncared for, a stark similarity.
Place your head in my hands,
let us weep together.
Pain is a tonne of bricks,
never weathered by the weather.
Work with me, fingers to clay,
place our hurting hearts into this wall
and then let us walk away.
You do not need to walk into each room
with gloom packed into a suitcase.
Let me help you unpack your things,
so that they may not drag you.
Disseminate your wearied woes,
overthrow them with the power of two.
One labouring worker may take a while,
you’ll feel better with a soldier beside you.

Switch

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Switch

The switch

To fix

To stitch

To light

Delight

Inside and out

To light

The way

To say

We are kintsugi
– – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – –

From life’s war school

(Rightly said Friedrich)

What does not kill us

Makes us stronger.
– – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – –

The switch

To fix

Beyond our dreams

We are the healers

We are kintsugi

We see and feel

We are

The switch

Kintsugi (金継ぎ, “golden joinery”), also known as Kintsukuroi (金繕い, “golden repair”), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise…. As a philosophy, kintsugi can be seen to have similarities to the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, an embracing of the flawed or imperfect.[10][11] Japanese aesthetics values marks of wear by the use of an object. This can be seen as a rationale for keeping an object around even after it has broken and as a justification of kintsugi itself, highlighting the cracks and repairs as simply an event in the life of an object rather than allowing its service to end at the time of its damage or breakage. Kintsugi can relate to the Japanese philosophy of “no mind” (無心 mushin), which encompasses the concepts of non-attachment, acceptance of change, and fate as aspects of human life. (Retrieved 27th Oct 2018 from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kintsugi Usage/permission/rights: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/)

“What does not kill us makes us stronger.” (attributed to Friedrich Nietzsche, German philosopher, 1844-1900, based on his words: “Out of life’s school of war: What does not destroy me, makes me stronger.” from The Twilight of the Idols, 1899.)