Everyone has their secrets,

some are just better liars –

they never show their weakness.

Inside they burn like wildfire.

Without a conscience you are free

from the torment and the dread.

It is such bullshit and irony

that Hell exists only in your head.

The walls you build imprison

keeping altruism distant,

intentional abscission

from a life worth existenc...

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With a flick of the wrist my journey begins,

Tipping and tumbling from palm to finger,

Chittering and chattering along with my fellows.

I am rolled and thrown; I am the decider of fates.

I have slain dragons and heroes,

Bribed thugs and courted barmaids,

Threatened thieves and solved riddles.

Three words can begin a fight.

Roll for initiative.

I spin through th...

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Hands crept into the sleeve

as the buttons twisted

the shadow of cultural masculinity-

the callous cataloguing that jolts the collar,

I want to suppress fascination of scrunched stereotypes,

and iron the burns from my skin.

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My confidence might be a house of cards, 
And topple over with no safeguards. 
My confidence might be a pane of glass, 
And be seen through and easily smash.

My confidence might be a rare mink vase, 
Worth much but breaks to a thousand shards. 
My confidence might be a beautiful flower, 
And crushed with just a little power.

But my confidence might be a bar of gold. 
Strong and valuab...

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What am I going to do

Sit here, crying for you

My heart is sinking

Deeper and deeper

My fears are increasing

Bigger and bigger

I haven't any clue

How I should myself rescue

From the bonds of evil

And also from the chains unseen

I wish it could be the end of life

So that I wouldn't have to suffer

Any pains, pangs and confusions

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What lies beneath or in between

sees little light until it seems

the black of night brings out its teeth

then evil comes from underneath

What is it in the minds of men

that brings out evil, mean and grim

is it in man's nature, hidden deep

that cruelty so often repeats

Where in the heart does evil lie

its commonness can't be denied

in darkest moods it is...

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In the cause of lightening up someone's day - read on.

A boy asked his Granny.  "Have you seen my pills.  They're labelled LSD".

"F..k the pills", Granny replied, "have you seen the dragons in the kitchen?!"

.........................................................................................................................

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Is it a sin for your muse

to inspire mine,

provide momentary escapes

from loneliness, pain,

the daily grind,

give words to fantasies

of the mind,

connect soul ties.

It’s hard to believe

a God of love

would consider musing 

a crime. 

If it is, that’s not a religion

to which I subscribe. 

https://youtu.be/tjdGgcFf-T8

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I have no secrets
And few thoughts
What I’ve held onto
Hasn’t taken off

I’m learning how to
Shut my mouth
Another few decades
And I’ll have gotten it

And you’re free to walk
Through my mind 
And take
Anything you like

You could even stay 
For a while
It’s cheap 

And the colors are bright

I have no secrets
And they’re not here
They visit 
When I’m alone

They get too ...

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Some roads lead nowhere 

But without a sign to tell us otherwise, we will travel down them 

Without hesitation

Until we arrive at the cliff edge, the end of the road 

There is no road ahead that will lead me to safety 

until now 

Part of me knew that this is how it ought to be 

Not a raging thunderstorm each night 

Leaving me awake and tearful for the next clap of thun...

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The Archive Monster's Coming

The Archive Monster's coming

Quickly, you me read

Don't worry though, my poet will

Continue with my breed

Don Matthews 29 February 2020

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My fears 

Slowly respired away

As these tears 

Became my oxygen mask everyday

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There’s a connection 
A brief flirt
And before you know it
We’re going crazy over each other’s words
The list of reasons confirms you won’t be good for me
But it’ll make for some good poetry

We fool around, lift each other up
Take a drink from the lover’s cup
But watch out,
Don’t get in too deep
Remember this is only for the poetry

We circle around crazy ideas
The two of us in a be...

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a child of 9, i wrote from a 3

across the busy street

from my foster family at the time

the 3 was HIGH

i climbed it though i could not climb

i can't remember where i carried the notepad

wether crook or backpack but each branch ascended made me look down and wonder

why i was doing this

the cars that raced passed, the circuit trucks,

sent the branches trembling, goose...

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Water is rising floods sent from hell, Corona virus too

Everybody pondering but there is nothing they can do

Global warming distroying our world it's not going to end

A disaster after another, no one know what is round the bend

Save the earth be mindful they tell us. Stop it getting worse

This can't be fixed by hand, or all the money in ones purse

How do you stop ice from me...

Read more …

I was insructed to drive to the hospital on my own,

My throat was sore my tonsils had grown.

I was informed to arrive at the hospital wearing a mask.

On the car park a nurse was waiting to perform her task.

Faced by her rubber gloves and her disposable attire,

My body was in full sweat and on fire.

My temperature and blood pressure were taken through the window of my car,

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Krasivaya

A strange sound 

A string of letters

It doesn't make sense till you meet her

Krasivaya : beautiful but with strength, unique

But not even this is enough to discribe you

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Son Of My Father

What did you do in the war dad?

I fought against Fascists, son.

And were you frightened there dad?

Did you want to turn around and run?

Yes, I was frightened there son

So, don’t believe the lies that are spun

About the death and the glory of war, boy.

There is death, but of glory there’s none.

Thanks for all that you did dad

A...

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Reach out your hand if your cup be empty
If your cup is full may it be again
Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of men.

'Ripple': Jerome J. Garcia / Robert C. Hunter

If you open your heart to the misery

Of those who live without hope

If you learn to walk in another’s steps

 And learn not to avert your gaze

If you give all that you have ...

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Another of my hobbies is playing tennis

And I realized that's the opposite of writing rhymes

Because some of my best poems

Come from aiming outside the lines

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Sing a happy song it won't take long

before your spirit lightens

brightens the day

Sing Sing a happy song

chase the blues away

choose to have a happy day

full of sunshine 

not gray

By Lynn Hahn

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My hobbies are thinking in circles
Signs of a melancholy mind
What a joke?

I don't what to live my life
Also I never want to die
So cover the sounds of kids dying
With a happy sunset all you like
Hope is hell

We all know death is coming
But this is my pocket of time
Nothing is good but the bad is mine
So see the lights why you still can

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the world will always be a terrible place if you decide what's coming out of my mouth before I say anything.

Before you even know my name , you've already decided who I am and the min max of what I have to say.

and then we don't even have a conversation, you just scry keywords and wait for your chance to talk.

it goes nowhere

and when it goes nowhere, you consider that a victory.

an...

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Are we being our most authentic selves and living authentic lives but only posting what we want the world to see? Using every resource to glamourise mediocrity and disguise pain? Authentic is defined as: “not false or copied; genuine; real.” And, my favorite definition, “representing one's true nature or beliefs; true to oneself or to the person." However ,these days our primary focus is on social...

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when I was sat in primary school

bored out of my head

no teacher ever really got to me

I had daydreams only

occasionally they would be broken

on a rainy morning

when I'd see a mate strolling late

past the school gates

and I’d be encouraged at the sight of him

cos the day would become way better

than it had begun

there was a lot of fun to be had

even in days suc...

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When old gits gather, talk always turns to nostalgia – the size of Wagon Wheels and Mars Bars, for example.  A loose re-enactment of that Monty Python Yorkshiremen sketch.

At such a coven recently my mate remembered those pre-digital, pre-Facebook days of snapping a dozen photos on your Kodak Instamatic and taking the film to Boots to get it developed.  You’d collect your photos two weeks later...

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You could tell she was trying hard,
Which girl doesn't try to mould their own skin to fit in?
You could tell she was trying to impress,
But as someone who knew better, I should have told her to rest,
But she was trying to hard to make it,
She was going all the way to fake it,
And I could tell,
She wore the sheepish smile,
But I knew this act so well,
She was like me,
I am like her,
She ...

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From Mozart to Metallica,

and Brahms to Barry White,

the gamut of Britannica,

I change it round each night.

I close my eyes in ecstasy

when Slowhand plays guitar,

and Louis Armstrong’s legacy

just proves he was a star.

Young Elton too, he wasn’t bad,

and he could even sing,

but he was only just a lad

when Elvis was The King.

Sometimes I’ll fancy r...

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She sits there her book full of latent codes,
a way of communicating so no-one knows
Rambling on my life, traces of a history unread:
a mind full of trash and misdeeds unsaid.
She's a pristine therapist, who hasn't lived,
expecting me to say all and give,
when I couldn't give a shit about her plan.

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For many years I walked in shame

With my head bowed down not looking anyone in the eyes

Shame for not being good enough

Shame for not being wanted nor loved

I sat in darkness wondering if I would ever be able to find light

Sat there wondering, if I would ever be worthy or enough

Then a voice whispered in my ear, " I am here."

The voice got louder and yelled, " I am here."

T...

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Bottled up tight

blanked out regrets

bitter taste

hard to swallow

that lingers longer

than it should

dark memories

stand tall again.

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Toss the wistful dreams of men as coins into the wishing well,

That they perchance be answered as they land upon its bed,

Watch the anglers hook the fish that can't resist their skillful spell,

And cast their careful crafted lure to bob above the fishes head,

Pray the fish that's caught that day holds the essence of your dream,

Pray the patient fisherman who gently reels it in this ...

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The Truth

“Where's the truth, then?”

coughed a scabrous beggar,

eyeing me from a Portuguese pavement,

“where is it, you faker, where?”

“Really want to know?”

I smiled back: “Try this:

“Truth lies, really lies,

through its teeth

lies like a clumsy dentist

who never hurt anyone,

pretending cleansing truth

lying underneath the pain.

“Nev...

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A poem from my drawerling,

to wit red notebook 1998

what is a nothingness?

solely an adumbration of

the voidness – forsakenness

an accustomary expression

an extinct volcano

– ad invinitum

the little animal

killed by the children

haply a starlet

- the dead

a ground of the bosomlet

from stone

or mayhap

the leaflet

fallen downward

the whole pict...

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An underwater house

In an underwater world

With underwater guys

And underwater girls

In a subterranean

homesick land

Where mermaids

take you by the hand

Their bodies gyrating

to water music

With a strong backbeat

you can shake your booty

Some of those maids 

are raunchy fish

But not in it

for the money

If you get my drift

So if you fancy copping o...

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Hush now little seedling

Don't be afraid of the dark

You're going to grow and flourish

I'm giving you the best start.

You're going to be so beautiful

and do such wonderous things

You could be a saviour 

lets see what summer brings.

It's going to take some time

So be patient through the rain

You're part of a whole forest

Nature's whispering campaign.

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TRANSFORM 1

slither in
the blind
changing shape
in time
rearranging in
the berm
tadpole losing
its squirm
dragging from
the rough
to hop on
the bluffs
head out of
the hudge
cues from
nature's nudge
breathe in
formation
pure
oxygen
origination
transform
again
back to
seeds
root through
weeds
can't explain
the genesis
magic
twist
of a 
chrysalis
wings beat
back
...

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Do you ever feel like you're the protagonist of a book?

Where the ending is constantly being rewritten and you're just waiting for the day that it's finally gone through all the edits and gets published?

But what happens if it's a novel that has 7 parts?

You might never even get to read the last written words or get to the final chapter of what you thought was your

"perfect ending."

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Papa, papa tell me what you see?

Yellow eyes my boy, ugly grinning teeth.

Quickly, quickly we must run and hide!

Tell me why papa?

For that is what, goes bump in the night.

When I am big and strong, will you show me where the monster, it sleeps?

Never my boy, it is too scary for me,

Stay hidden, stay quiet, keep your eyes under the sheets!

HELP, HELP a young man shrieks!

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Stabbed

An unexpected and searing pain

I crumpled with an agonised scream

I was breathless with disbelief

I fell foward as others screamed also

People coming and going

A shot rang out in the distance

I am going to die here and now

These words rang in my pulsating head

I was turned on my back

Words of comfort were softly spoken

I prayed to God , Save me please.

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Size Matters!

Jack and Jill were getting wed.

(Jack’s dad thought, Jill was nice).

“But, let me give you, Son,” he said

“some fatherly advice.

On the day, I wed yer mam

I nipped ‘er straight indoors.

And, being ‘t sort of bloke I am

I soon laid down the laws.

I boldly took mi trousers off

and told ‘er, ‘put ‘em on.’

She drowned within a sea of cloth

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The sights of ourselves still shape us to divide,
immediate response to the craves and madness,
we feel the way we feel but tonight it's you inside,
burried in the senses out of the lightness.

And days are still days but the trouble collides,
for all the reasons we chose not to revile,
and all our fears, childlish alike,
echoing through our minds, rejecting denial.

Stay where you are a...

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Black is an absence of colour

defining an absence of thought,

so let's fall in love with colours instead,

dark sombre chocolate

and variations of dusky ivory,

forget what's in your head.

Can we dismiss green as one tone,

stand at dawn and be cheated of the light?

Should we be judged blinded of love,

allow fear to drive us to extremes

and into the arms of darkness...

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FROM A COUNCIL TO A CULT

The cult distraction shrank

To be fronted by a child

However choreographed not exact stamp

A child reasoned with into accordance

That child now the man

On his shoulders crashing down

Spotlight always putting off

Because then known child is laughing

The cheated distracted thanked

To be vindicated right to suspect

And kept chil...

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So he is no one
In his story
Light of no sun
Reaches his glory.

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Heavens must be smiling to me, oooh love, like the graceful moves of a talented dancer, I must have  touched God when I kissed a stranger on the staircase, could birds and feathers be a  soft way of talking about love? Or should we  consider butterflies beauties in fear of love, or the gut the guru of secrets of love and fear, but that's just a lustful heart, wishful hopes for an angel up above to...

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Springtime daffodils, crocuses and polished buttercups,

delicately scented fluffy feather-leaved mimosa.

February winter jasmine cascading yellowly

over southern sunwarmed stone walls,

an explosion of tiny briliant forsythia stars.

Hillside covered in cream yellow primroses,

with violets as mutual complement.

Sunrays stealing through shutter slats,

gifting a natural aw...

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The complainers complaint
is a constant refrain
"Woe is me -points-
they're all to blame!
I'm squeezed in the middle
by those with no name
pity me not them
they're all to blame!
why don't they just send 'em  
all off to jail?
give to me not to them
coz they want the same,
give to me not to them
coz they're all to blame
them paki's and blacks
them poles and the lame
the unemplo...

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No day is different from the next,

Every day is the same,

Agony, misery and pain,

But no one knows it but me,

Others look and still can’t see,

The suffering that hunts me

Like pray,

the cloud that drowns all

happiness away,

The isolation that keeps me astray

From others who want me to be OK

And I want to be OK,

But the blues seem to be here to stay,

Robbing m...

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