POETRY

Living expressions of inner work. Offered as a glimpse of the process towards radical self-acceptance, healing, and growth.

Poetry, burn these pages, a finger pointing Zachary Phillips Poetry, burn these pages, a finger pointing Zachary Phillips

a thousand eyes reflected

i am a multitude
that speaks with one voice
broken apart
through lack of choice

the face i wear
closely mirrors yours
how else can i survive
when the world itself abhors?

used to think i was acting
but now i see the truth
another day wasted
on the folly of youth

a thousand eyes reflected
in a broken mirror’s gaze
quick swallow this pill son
this is all just a phase

there’s no-one left to question
the slow passing of time
nothing is permanent
‘cept my ink forming rhyme

 

i am a multitude
that speaks with one voice
broken apart
through lack of choice

the face i wear
closely mirrors yours
how else can i survive
when the world itself abhors?

used to think i was acting
but now i see the truth
another day wasted
on the folly of youth
a thousand eyes reflected

in a broken mirror’s gaze
quick swallow this pill son
this is all just a phase

there’s no-one left to question
the slow passing of time
nothing is permanent
‘cept my ink forming rhyme


This poem is inspired by the book How To Write Evocative Poetry

 
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Poetry, burn these pages Zachary Phillips Poetry, burn these pages Zachary Phillips

my shadow bleeds ink

i’m frozen
reading the words
scratched upon my soul
long before
i knew
how to read

but now that i’m baked
i’ve got a new take
a new way to remake
and rewrite the wake

so many tears
for so few words

it is on me
to see
and send love
inwardly

my shadow bleeds ink
yet i hold the pen
with these words
i begin again
for my story will be long
with chapters anew
and these words
were so few

the body keeps the score
but the pen holds the key
the paper is the door
so love what you see

begin again

 

i’m frozen
reading the words
scratched upon my soul
long before
i knew
how to read

but now that i’m baked
i’ve got a new take
a new way to remake
and rewrite the wake

so many tears
for so few words

it is on me
to see
and send love
inwardly

my shadow bleeds ink
yet i hold the pen
with these words
i begin again
for my story will be long
with chapters anew
and these words
were so few

the body keeps the score
but the pen holds the key
the paper is the door
so love what you see

begin again


This poem is inspired by the book How To Write Evocative Poetry

 
Read More
Poetry Zachary Phillips Poetry Zachary Phillips

dear little part of me

dear little part of me
you are safe and you are free
i know for years i didn’t see
just how much you kept my safety

you acted bravely
you kept watch gravely
forced to wield the sword and the shield
and the armour of a lady

but i need you to know

those times have now long past
we can breathe and break our fast
we can live and love and laugh

we can finally rest at last
that it’s safe for you to let go
safe to play and safe to be free
it’s safe for you to be you

and me to be me
i know for years I didn’t see
what you did for us
what you did for me

but i do now
so you can release
but i do now
so we can walk together in peace

 
dear little part of me

dear little part of me
you are safe and you are free
i know for years i didn’t see
just how much you kept my safety

you acted bravely
you kept watch gravely
forced to wield the sword and the shield
and the armour of a lady

but i need you to know

those times have now long past
we can breathe and break our fast
we can live and love and laugh

we can finally rest at last
that it’s safe for you to let go
safe to play and safe to be free
it’s safe for you to be you

and me to be me
i know for years I didn’t see
what you did for us
what you did for me

but i do now
so you can release
but i do now
so we can walk together in peace


This poem is inspired by the book How To Write Evocative Poetry

 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

I’ve Sold You My Soul

With this book
I’ve sold you my soul
Put myself on display
Showing you my whole

Here
Do you see the hole?
What was left
After my father’s toll
A prostitution of pain
A sympathy payroll

Here
Do you see the hole?
What was left
After her thoughtless console
A pitiful attempt
To reclaim what he stole

I wrote this for me
There’s no other goal
Love it or hate it
Fuck you all

No
Not you dear reader
Just those close to me
Those who chose to troll
Those who attempted to control
Those who don’t know me at all

No
For you I extol
The healing granted
By planting the flag pole
Open your mind to gaze upon your soul
Write
Take back control
Step through the keyhole
Put it on the page
And remake yourself
Into a stronger whole

 

With this book
I’ve sold you my soul
Put myself on display
Showing you my whole

Here
Do you see the hole?
What was left
After my father’s toll
A prostitution of pain
A sympathy payroll

Here
Do you see the hole?
What was left
After her thoughtless console
A pitiful attempt
To reclaim what he stole

I wrote this for me
There’s no other goal
Love it or hate it
Fuck you all

No
Not you dear reader
Just those close to me
Those who chose to troll
Those who attempted to control
Those who don’t know me at all

No
For you I extol
The healing granted
By planting the flag pole
Open your mind to gaze upon your soul
Write
Take back control
Step through the keyhole
Put it on the page
And remake yourself
Into a stronger whole


 
Read More
Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Sad Zac is Sad

 

Sad Zac is sad
He’s feeling bad
He’s feeling like he’s been had
That the times he was glad
And feeling rad
Were in fact just a fad

As a wee lad
Sad Zac couldn’t relate to any comrade
He was bullied by Chad
Crying, he asked advice from his dad
‘Just punch his face a tad’
Lesson learnt, fists make a nomad
Add one tick to the notepad
No one approaches the battle clad
No one threatens the mad

Sad Zac is sad
Remembering his dad
Remembering him before he was mad
Rereading the notepad
Reminiscing of the success had
Ruminating on his advice to play mad
And embodying it as a personality pad

Sad Zac now fears the nomad
And trains daily for a fight he’s not yet had
Fear of the footpad wielding a doodad
Has grown into fear of every comrade
‘Where is the rest of the advice, dad?’
‘How can I avoid also going mad?’
‘What can I do to stay feeling glad?’
‘Who can I turn to now that you’re just a notepad?’

Sad Zac is still sad
But also a tad glad
Because putting these thoughts on this notepad
Has alleviated some of the mad
He still feels bad
But writing has healed some of his inner lad


 
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