With You

something
must be wrong
with you
how else
would you
see worth
in me

---

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

The God Of Gluttony

Grimy, gross, and greasy, 
The god of gluttony gesticulates gladly,
‘Eat me, enjoy me, immerse yourself in me.
For I am what you want.
For I am what you desire’.

Guilt and pleasure stand side by side, 
Beckoning you to consume more.

The delicious poison tempts, 
Tantalises, and teases your tastebuds. 
Tactically taunting,
Telling your tummy that it's almost time.

Quickly,
You take your first bite and think,
‘Meh it’s alright’.

But then it hits you, 
The cravings pull you in. 
The voice of reason says, 
‘No, never, no more, no way, not again!’ 

But you can’t stop. 
It’s already too late. 
It’s got you.
You're hooked,
Addicted,
Dependant, 
Strung out.

Your family and friends begin to fret.
With added fervour they furiously try to force
feed you fantastically fresh fruit. 
This attempt is frivolous, 
The fructose filled feast fails. 
You feign interest and say, 
‘Fair thee well’.

For your heart, mind, and soul will now, and forever be, a consumer. 
The fast food has you. 
It's yours and you’re its. 

An unholy matrimony,
A marriage of consumption,
And you don't want a divorce.
Till death do you part.

So, act now or forever hold your peace.

---

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

You Say

You say you love me,
But you don’t know me,
Not the full me,
Not every part of me,
Not as I really am.

You say I should open up,
That I should share,
That I should let you in,
Into my inner world,
Into my mind, my emotions, my everything.

You say you will accept me,
But that’s a lie,
You don’t know me,
Not all of me,
Not the parts you haven’t seen.

Do you know yourself well enough?
How will you react to me?
What will you do when I show you?
What will you think of my darkness?
My pain? My weaknesses? My desires?

No.
You only accept the parts you’ve seen.
Then you make assumptions,
Of yourself,
And of me.

That I’m not that bad,
That there isn’t much more,
That embarrassment holds me back,
That you can save me,
And that you would want to.

It is safer to hide,
To show a just little,
Just the parts that are acceptable,
The parts I have practiced,
The parts that work.

You don’t love me,
You just love those parts,
You just love the surface,
Your love hasn’t touched the depths,
It never will.

---

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

How Is It?

How is it
That all I get
For all my time
Is so little money?

---

This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Maybe

If I sit here
Long enough
Maybe
I’ll have the strength
To stand

---

This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

I Let It Go and Just Feel

I hear you in the lyrics of a song.
I feel you in the kiss of cold wind.
I see you in a starry night sky.
I taste you in a bite of sweet fruit.
I smell you in an ocean breeze.
I sense you deep within.

I have received all I asked of you and more.
Yet doubt continues to haunt me.
Expectations cloud your true nature.
You are not what others say.
Words cannot convey the
Intricacy of your message.

Emotion, feeling and intuition
Serve you better.
You talk in subtlety and rhyme.
Gentle guidance that’s often overlooked.
Saying not what I want to hear,
But what I need to.

I follow as best I can,
I’m sorry for my failures.
I stand at the edge of a cliff.
Please catch me,
Help me to fly.
I let it go and just feel.

---

This poem is from the book Words On A Page

Looking In

I close my eyes.

Where once there was vividness
There is now a vague blur.

Stories and visions intermingle
A kaleidoscope of confusion.

Words and non-words alike
Are spoken and responded to.

The allure of reality is lost,
Replaced by the bliss of the abyss.

The joy of not knowing
Is ever more tempting.

Closing my eyes to avoid it all,
To get to where release was once felt.

But no more.
The avalanche of memory greets me.
I cannot escape the pain inside.
I long to let it go.

To let it all go.

---

This poem is from the book Words On A Page

Reflections

The world is a mirror to your soul,
Your happiness will be shown
On the faces of strangers,
Your fear will flicker in their eyes,
Your hope will express itself
In the poetry you read, as too will your ills.

The mirror rejects what you are not,
Thus the world will always be you,
In this way you are trapped,
Rejecting love when you need it most,
And the advice you most need to hear.

Yet you are not stagnant,
And neither is the mood of the world,
What happens in one, distorts the other,
Words can scratch, and actions can crack,
So keep a watch on its surface,
And a polishing rag in hand.

Realise that the mirror is in fact imperfect,
Subject to change, manipulation and control,
Those reflections are more than phantasms,
They have a force that can break.

So watch the mirror,
Be on guard against its influence,
But also influence your guard,
For your actions may inadvertently
Shatter someone’s soul.

---

This poem is from the book Words On A Page

A Mirror

A mirror reflects differently,
Backwards, reversing your stare.
What's dark out here is light in there.

With pain on my face I look away.
Make it stop! Get rid of it, now! Today!

I peel away the face off my skin.
My mask is gone, the blackness glares, Tunneling further in.

Digging, chewing, boring its way deeper.
I fall to my knees, feeling hollow and weaker.

The bridge in my dreams,
Becomes the place I take flight.
This is where it ends,
Now, this night.

Bound and restricted, both heavy and light.
My mind and body have all but lost the fight.

Will a light come to save me?
Or forsaken will I remain,
Alone and insane?

---

This poem is from the book Words On A Page

Sorry My Boy

Sorry my boy
I’ve got something to do
And unfortunately
It doesn’t involve you

Sorry my boy
I don’t have the time to chat
I’m too busy
But you know that

Sorry my boy
I can’t play right now
There is too much on
I’ve done as much as my schedule will allow

Hey my boy
I’m finally free
Want to hang out
Just you and me?

Sorry my dad
I’ve got too much on
With my work and my mates
My time is all gone

---

This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

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’.

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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