how am i, really?

how am i really?

do you mean in general
or in the moment of response?

that brief moment
when we must somehow summarise
contrasting the darkness of the shadow
against the brilliance of the light
with just one word

i’m ‘good’
you?

---

This poem is from the book Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul

tsunami

i see a tsunami approaching
and i know
if i start drowning
you will help
you will pull me out of the water

at the last moment
you will save me

but i am so terrified
of getting wet
that i am frozen in place
and thus
i can’t build the shelter
to weather the wave
or find the strength
to run
to higher ground

so i’m forced to wait
as my doom gets closer
praying that the
promised help
does indeed come
before i pre-emptively give up

because waiting
for the wave
is no way to live
and surviving it
just to see another
isn’t either

---

This poem is from the book Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul

sertraline

medication?
more like calcification

the myopic solution
replacing anxiety
with apathy

losing focus
focusing
on what i have lost

my thoughts
circle the drain
both hope and fear
falling in turn

i am lost

a rudderless raft
left to drift
upon a dead calm lake

fog obscures the bank
fog obscures desire

i am far too calm
to stay safe
life and death
seem equally desirable

i drift

cold rationality
the last remaining
life preserver

the small subtle voice
whispering
that this too shall pass
the sun will shine
the wind will blow
and i will have purpose once more

---

This poem is from the book Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul

set the darkness alight

when pain turns to might
the blind gain sight
but try as they might
they can’t handle the light
so accustomed to darkness
truth brings fright …

rodents delight in their self created blight
reluctantly fleeing the cat’s tyrannous bite
unable to fight they turn to flight
returned to the sewers
hiding till night
then forming packs of righteous right
they write of spite and unquenched appetite
they sight the slight and ways to incite
they observe the oversight and offer an invite
then wait
for their revolution
to set the darkness alight

---

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

Love Is

Love is a mortgage,
A debt promise of pain.
Paid with interest,
For those you outlive.

Love is making connections
Despite knowing they will be broken.
And it’s the letting go
Of the guilt for doing so.

Love is for the small sacrifices,
That contain the hidden joys.
And the memory that’s both
Blessing and curse.

Love is knowing when to push,
And when you must concede.
The realisation that you’re wrong,
And the leaving of transgressions unseen.

Love is the give and take,
The unspoken word.
The comforts freely given,
And those gratefully accepted.

Love is the discipline to say no,
Through begging, pleading and pain.
And the careful observation,
Of limits reached.

Love is tempered guidance,
A shot at eternity.
And the words of encouragement,
To try once more.

Love is a partnership,
A bonding of the muse.
A step into darkness,
Taken together in faith.

---

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

excessive thinking

i replaced
drinking
with excessive
thinking

the hangover
is worse
thoughts
form a curse

no longer
dumb
no longer
numb

swallow burn
shame
write ink
pain

bottles
emptied of sin
notepads
fill the bin

addicted
to stress
addicted
nonetheless

the bar
is locked
my writing
is blocked

my 12-step
process
is journaling
this nonsense

just these few
lines
stress and whiskey
rhymes 

should i have
another?
write on
my brother!

---

This poem is from the book Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul

i float

the vastness of the ocean
has been replaced
by the safety of a kiddy pool

i float
under a lifeguards watchful gaze
passively accepting
the artificiality of my confines
only vaguely aware
of a time
not long ago
when I could look upon the horizon
and feel the sun upon my skin

memories
of riding atop the waves
both terrified and exhilarated
by nature’s limitless beauty
have been replaced
by the scent of chlorine
penetrating my nose
and irritating my eyes

but I don’t care
i am lulled by the warmth of the water
and comforted by the knowledge
that soon
i will forget
the taste of salt water
and the thrill of that first plunge
into the depth
of the ocean’s
infinite embrace

---

This poem is from the book Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul

fear

why’d i give up
so much of myself
out of fear
of my own
blossoming
greatness?

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

broken pottery

there are parts of me
that want to speak
but i know that i can’t think
that doesn’t feel right
i don’t know
can i have another bite?

it’s funny

when i was young
i would sacrifice my meal
i had a little serving
and my brother was there
and he was looking
so i gave it to him
leaving me with nothing

but now i’m still holding that nothing
a plate of nothingness
while my brother’s got everything

i see him there
i see him holding
i see him consuming
my mother’s attention
my mother’s love
the part of her that i wanted
into his cup that’s overflowing
my cups empty
my cups broken
but then i look over and see his cup
and his cups open
it’s porous
it’s flowing
and i’m like maybe i could bring my cup and his cup and place them together

healing
uniting
connecting

but that requires more of me
more of he
more of we
together
but our past pulled us apart
so maybe to fill that cup
i express myself with this art
and i see the art in him
and he sees the art in me
but maybe there’s a togetherness of space where we can be free
be together and be free
two pieces of broken pottery

---

This poem is from the book Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul

apathy

there is something
uniquely terrifying
about watching your emotions
dissipate before your eyes

witnessing the fear
of your fear falling away
itself fall away
into the abyss of apathy

leaving nothing
but a gentle malaise
and a question
you don’t care enough to answer

is it worse
to feel pain
or to not feel anything
at all?

---

This poem is from the book Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul