Spiralling Into Darkness

The clarity of the past is blinding,
With ill-conceived words
And deeds now binding.

Longing for a change inside and out,
All I’m left with now is doubt.

Spiralling into darkness,
The void is all I see,
The world is falling down,
Dropping on top of me.

Any feeling is a good feeling,
Bleeding just for the sensation,
Bleeding to feel alive again.

I’m sick of all the trying,
Sick of all the crying,
Sick of everything that I ever was.

All I want to do is let it go,
Not let it show and forget about the rest.

Spiralling into darkness,
The void is consuming me,
The world crashing down,
Tumbling towards me.

What is right or wrong no longer matters, Black and white look the same in darkness.

You think I care, but I don’t,
You think I’ll cry but I won’t.

The problems we once shared
Mean nothing to me now.
Your vanity is shameful,
Your ignorance boundless.

Spiralling into darkness,
The void has engulfed me;
The world has been brought down
And is now smothering me.

Take me away, get me out of myself,
Just one moment of respite is all it will take.
I can only be stretched so far,
Pushed until I break.

To the memories that shape me,
To the memories that remind me,
To the memories that haunt me
To the scars that remain

I’m done.

---

This poem is from the book Words On A Page

Laughing

I don’t want
to be
where
I am.
I could move but
there is
nowhere
I can go.
I am trapped
inside
my cursed
mind.
It follows
me
everywhere,
laughing
at my
pain.

---

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

Scrying Thoughts

Bong hit
smoke eyes.
See life
fathers’ eyes.

Different pain
new disguise.
Hot take
fresh lies.

Core aspects
I despise.
Diverted focus
Stoned highs.

Scrying thoughts
child cries.
Look close
perpetual demise.

Broken dreams
sharp knives.
Self-worth
clichéd rhymes.

---

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Let Me Be Me

I look different from the inside.

I know what you see,
But you don’t know what I hide,
You think it’s just smiles and glee.

Really I don’t feel safe to confide,
Cause’ I’ve got demons you see.

They cajole, sow doubts and chide,
Making me question what it is to be me.

Showing my faults, destroying my pride,
Highlighting how I act differently.

They remind me of when I cried,
And make me think all fuzzy.

They suggest I shouldn’t have tried,
Confusion they guarantee.

I just want to be free,
To be and to be me.
To not worry about what you see,
Or wanting to flee,
Or to fit some unspoken decree.
What’s the key?
Can thee enlighten me?

Or should I hide inside,
Bide my time and chide?
Swallow my pride and wish I’d simply died?
Please confide, be my guide,
And give me what I’ve been denied.

Ah, I see, you lied.
You see me as debris.

You barely even tried,
Before making me feel crappy.

‘Cause you were the one who cried
And spoke with such irony. 

Like it was me who beat your backside,
And me who raised you absently,
And me who caused your family to divide,
And me who acted grotesquely,
And me who failed to provide,
And me who never gave an apology.

No, I’ve said sorry.
My actions weren’t justified.
But I am not them and I will never be.

Don’t you see?
You need therapy.
I’m not being snide,
Because in this, you are just like me.

Confide in an expert.
Tell them your story.
Share what you were denied,
Open up and actually let someone inside.

Ah, I see you lied.
You don’t want recovery, just an excuse to hide.
I have tried, and it didn’t work,
So please set me free, and
Let me be me.

---

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Searching For Meaning

Folly be to those who act blindly,
Who move before they look.

Confidently striving,
Never questioning.

Doing what feels right,
Because it feels right.

Binary decision making,
Disguised as rationality.

Running towards death,
Believing in their process.

Never asking the important questions,
What if I am wrong?

Who am I?
What is Rightness?

What is the point of this life?
Does such a thing even exist?

To search for meaning
We must challenge all assumptions.

Taking the time to think
Beyond mere pleasure and pain.

Training our minds to contemplate,
To detach and focus.

This is not easy.
Discipline is needed.

A sharp focus,
Gazing towards the eternal.

Embracing life’s pleasures,
But not at the cost of the search.

A knowledge that we must seek truth,
Because nirvana may be within reach.

---

This poem is from the book Reflections of the Self, The Poetry, Insights, and Wisdom Of Silence

Play

Watching him play
I disappeared.
And in that space,
The world opened up.

---

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

There Is No Rush

There is no rush,
You are already there.

It is all around you.
It is in the moment,
And it is the moment.

There is nothing to be done,
And no one to do it. 

No words spoken.
No rituals performed.
No sins cleansed.

Just an opening,
Just a realisation,
Just an acceptance.

Of silence,
Of the present,
Of reality.

As it is,
For what it is.

---

This poem is from the book Reflections of the Self, The Poetry, Insights, and Wisdom Of Silence

The Darkness Fuels Them

The battle lines are drawn
I turn inwards
They snarl
Bearing teeth
All too big for their mouths

They curse
They cajole
They threaten
They remind me of their brethren
The victors of the last war

The darkness fuels them
My fear fuels them
They surround me
Attacking from behind
Infiltrating my defences

I fall
My mind closes in
All seems lost
But then I remember
I have been here before

I know their tactics
I know their weaknesses
I know their game
Just deception
Just intimidation

I turn and face them
Staring them down
My gaze is illuminating
Golden rays of light
Shatter their advance

I begin the hunt
Snarls turns into shrieks
Shrieks turns into bargaining
Bargaining turns into pleading
Pleading turns into silence

I seek out their dens
I destroy their spawning grounds
I cleanse myself
Total victory
Unconditional surrender

---

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Obsession

Using words for expression,
A curing pain session,
My inner mind’s compression,
With anxiety, rumination and depression,
It’s an obsession,
A self-destructive messin’
Around, with pills or a knife,
Ideation of death is rife,
Friends and family feeling my strife,
I got them worried ‘bout my life,
But I am fine,
Words help me shine,
No longer stuck in a confine,
Like a farmer’s favourite bovine,
That’s escaped the plot,
Mental clarity I’ve now got,
Pen in hand, my afflictions are shot,
Now I’m free to write my own plot,
Dream following,
Ego swallowing,
Heart opening,
Pain forgoing,
With a pen in hand,
And paper I brand,
Myself anew in this land,
Here I stand.

---

This poem is from the book, Words On A Page

Don't Worry About Me

What's wrong, are you ok?
Why don't you come out and play?
Laugh, smile and have some fun.
It is just wonderful here in the sun!

Take a chance, live a little and smile.
You know we're only here for a little while.
You’re missing out on love, adventure and life.
We never see you, are you in strife?

Don't worry about me, I'm just tired.
I will be ok, just wait another day.
It is nothing I assure you.
Would you believe it’s a cold or flu?

Come, let's dance! Be moved and swirled!
Take a chance and step out into the world.
Run and fly until your heart’s content,
Make sure that your life is well spent.

Come and see a movie;
Or watch the waves hit the shore.
You will have a good time,
Just step out the door.

The day is almost over,
The sun is now setting.
Leave no stone unturned,
Don't leave this world regretting.

Don't worry about me, I'm just tired.
I will be ok, just wait another day.
It is nothing I assure you.
Would you believe it’s a cold or flu?

Please, I want to see you,
I miss what we once had.
Have I done something to offend you?
Did I make you mad?

I don’t know how to help you,
I am at my wits end.
Please don’t forget that
I have always been your friend.

How about we stay in tonight,
Why don’t I come to you?
There will be nothing for you to prepare,
Nothing you have to do.

We can simply order takeaway,
Watch the same old show,
And when you tell me to leave,
I promise to go.

Don't worry about me, I'm just tired.
I will be ok, just wait another day.
It is nothing I assure you.
Would you believe it’s a cold or flu?

Don't worry about me, really, I’m fine.
I stayed up too late, there’s a lot on my plate.
I don’t know what else I can say,
Just believe me; and please go away.

---

This poem is from the book Words On A Page