I unawoke today, quite harshly

The sweet melodies & lyrics came crashing down

for the first time, in a long long time.

I don't aspire anymore. You can be, the

Better Version of me. 

You can be me, all that I am. You can be me

all that I am.

Today I unawoke from my Dream,

yet tomorrow another Poem. 

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this could be 

more than imagined 

wish come true 

you and me 

can you see 

what i mean

fairy tale story?

another ghost story?

oh, so glory

many written chapters 

all with gratitude

as we guide 

a life of 

beginning, middle, recreate

trust the process 

find your purpose

all is well

believe in yourself

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Dunning Kruger vs Myers Briggs 

you don’t know you’re 

into it until you’re there 

then you don’t even look 

for a way out

you’re just enjoying yourself 

too much

in that civilization built 

for two; no one moves 

we just kick the tires 

and scratch the paint 

and are surprised 

or disappointed 

to find we can only live 

one life at a t...

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Crashing into nothingness,

As the memories fade away,

Grainy images of the past,

And voices now gone astray.

Crashing into disaster,

Like a wild rollercoaster ride,

Once so curious and full of wonder,

Now with strangers, I collide.

Crashing into chaos,

With all the messed up things,

A web of lies and deceits,

And experimental strings.

Crashing int...

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For the unreciprocated,

the obsessive,

the infatuated,

and the envious,

a late night lament for the reckless homosexual.

Only in the calm of the night

and the quiet of an alone bed

at midnight, can I write this

only now, twenty years on.

Only under flickering screen

in the cold light of night, with memories for company,

now I see it, plain as day.

...

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In the gilded embrace of a balmy March morning, Isabella sat gracefully under the portico, her senses awakened by the gentle breeze that carried the heady scent of freshly bloomed flowers. The winter's icy grip had finally relinquished, allowing warmth and vibrancy to suffuse the land. The sun's golden rays danced playfully upon the dew-laden grass, painting a breathtaking spectacle that stole Isa...

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Once there was a little boy 

Who could not say it straight

Whenever he was asked a question

His response was bait.

“What colour is the sky” his teacher asked him for a test

“It’s red of course” the boy replied 

“Cuz that colour’s the best”

He knew of course,  his answers were completely in the wrong

He just liked to confuse people

Their gasps were like a song

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What’s of the eyes if not to see -

a darkness on the land,

perpetuated by a world

that will not understand.

What’s of the ears if not to hear -

a silence through the night.

A deafness born of leaders with

no care of what is right.

What’s of the lips if not to speak -

a fading muffled voice,

drowned out by those in power who

refuse the people’s choice.

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Dog let unintentionally loose on Sunday

Was first to find the eggs

And ate five, shells and all!

Will need checking on for some days.

Dad was betrayed by a buddy

Who nonchalantly asked in Mum's presence

Why his car had been in front of The Good Angel

Two a.m.Thursday night?

Older brother was soundly berated and told

he'd had the last supper with friends

After he zigza...

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One is in her 80's,

the other is in her 90's,

two old sisters who live together

in a little ranch house

where horses graze 

and the wind blows the gentle green.

The son of the older sister lives there too,

keeping an eye on mom and aunt,

happy that mom and aunt let his boyfriend join the household

and treat him like family.

Mom walks with a cane,

aunt uses a walker...

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A carnival of

Shattered hearts

And shunned characters

Isn’t where you were

Destined to be,

Wasn’t where you

Intended to be,

So why be?

There’s a paradise

Of shared smiles

And shimmering lights,

Seen only to the ones

Who want to be seen,

To be healed.

Together we share

Our anxieties, perplexities,

Comebacks, hold-backs,

Failures and fea...

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Spirals of life is a lesson 

rejection is protection 

jealousy is reflection' 

Addiction is suppression.

Depression is submission 

Society is an illusion 

To keep you in confusion 

Be ware of the ones who treat you as possession 

Forgive them for what they do 

For they lack own recognition 

Subconscious takes over from the past lack of attention 

Words have been we...

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The washing on the line is mine, is mine;

The washing on the line, it dries, it dries.

My best friend down the road, he dies, he dies;

Our enemy of old, he lies, he lies.

The washing on the line, it sighs, it sighs.

The washing on the line is mine, is mine;

The washing on the line, it blows, it blows.

Desire for revenge, it grows, it grows;

The guilty man nearby, he cr...

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Add five parts blood to five parts blood

shake well till indistinguishable

Add five parts lies to five parts lies

remove the scales that fall from eyes

Add five parts belief to five parts belief

filter well, truth lies beneath

Add five parts hate to five parts hate

let stand and watch coagulate

Add five parts word to five parts word

knead well un...

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Why can’t I just be outspoken?

Why does my confidence in being who I am, make people think I’m broken?

It is true that my life has not always been kind,

But having a bad life doesn’t have to result in having a bad mind.

I take pride in what got me where I am today,

While others stare silently and listen in dismay.

Admittedly, the road I took was not always by choice,

But ...

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Tumbleweeds jutted with sandspurs

navigate the dry grooves of my mind

probing for dead thoughts and fossilized behaviors.

They prick the dormant ambition, dried and petrified 

by sands of time stretching through dunes of eternity.

This wasteland of regret breaks my spirit, 

and I am no longer whole. I'm half a man 

under the weight of ideologies caked between

my eyes and ...

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What is it with those weathermen that now

they want to give a name to every storm?

Do they believe that this will humanise

the winds and floods left trailing in their wake?

And will a cutesy designation serve

to moderate the mindless potency

that rips the very rooftop from our home?

Shall we just smile when rivers burst their banks

to fill the house with all that endless oo...

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I told you that I count the stars

And you said I'd always be counting

Because the stars are infinite

I think that maybe I could be infinite too

I could be bright and shining and warm

I could be the light someone else follows

And I go to tell you but

You are dim now

And it is dark

And I pray to God that it won't always be like this

I pray that the night won't swallow m...

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Behind those protected shields

Were some good men and women

Who tried to help me through

All my difficult times, and I didn't know

Thank you for your kind thought

Thank you for your efforts you brought

I feel more than obliged for it all

And wish you success and abundance in your life ahead

It was my prayer that ca...

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There are times when I sit to write

There’s no thinking, it just feels right

But other times when I attempt a piece

All my thoughts just seem to cease

I think my hardest about what to say

But I think it will be just a wasted day

So many images spinning in my mind

But not one single word there do I find

That single thought now way off track

I’m having series doubts I’ll g...

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The Evil Empire

The United States of America is a frustrated power,

it arrived late on the imperial scene.

Instead of conquest or exploration,

it uses its wealth to buy its needs.

This Empire has no morality in its arsenal,

Guantanamo, Bagram and rendition are its methods.

Along with its lackeys it has spawned nations,

supported dictatorships and fermented unrest.

O...

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My hands are not my own
When I stare down at them it is not my flesh that bleeds.
It is the skin of someone different entirely.
I've become an alter ego of sorts, wrestling with my anger until provoked by a whisper. This identity I carry is far beyond my control.

If I were to rid myself of it then I'd find myself all alone. 

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“I hope I die before you”, she worries.

“I don't want to be alone.”

“But you'll have the two dogs and some family.

Besides, I'll need you to host my Celebration of Life,

and read a poem for me. Maybe this one.

And play the music I liked for everyone;

maybe tell a joke or two, so things don’t get too somber.”

“But you won't be there.”

“Yeah, more or less, that...

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‘Bellies not bins’… that’s how it should be.

A waste of good unsold food, I hate to see.

From hunger pain, no stomach should ache.

A big difference together, we can all make.

Every food donation helps to show you care.

If you can, please help to support FairShare.

We’re out to tackle hunger, help if you can.

Let’s fill up with food every FairShare van!

Top Superma...

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A problem shared is a problem halved

and of knowledge I am starved

so here I am Dr Google

Seeking support, not a Doctors' retort 

You are there for me 24/7

Delight in a worriers heaven

A different diagnoses every night

hoping this search might be right

Speaking face to face is overrated

Full of judgement, bile and hatred

while my toy gives the answers

loo...

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The liquid songs of a bird
Create much vibration in my heart,
My body is a stone, black and old-
If she turns down me to hold,
An artificial is my heart and soul
If she ceases her songs as a whole.
I wish her singing all the day,
As a cost my life I must pay,
She is mine I knew since my birth-
& I'll be the same, even beyond the earth. 

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Crushed cream limestone, trodden underfoot,

Natural brown, the oaken hue

Of the Cross, for crucifixion borne.

He would die for you, and those true blue.

Sunrise, golden-edged the blackened clouds.

Whose threatening veil hangs above.

Calvary, its slopes lush, verdant green.

Yellow sallowed his sorrowed love.

Green and yellow-blue, the sparks that flew

as grey iron-he...

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Breathe

We walked side by side our hands grazing 

Everytime giving me a rush so new

Wanting to lock your hand in mine for always and keep that feeling alive

You fill me up,you quench my thirst, you are my breath of purple air

To wish upon a star is a saying old and true

Today I wish upon my star to kiss my new beginnings

My star is you my heart my soul 

my new beginnin...

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I collect up the pieces of my former life

Photos, articles, trinkets and pictures,

that reverberate with a life once lived,

far away from where  I am now.

I was once a borderline, edging death.

A cathartic catchpole where I caught nothing but pain. 

Grazing on the  remnants of the past, I realise 

that I was set up to fail.

No one there to see the beating heart of kindness.

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William Wordsworth and Walt Whitman have alliterative names

For Norman Nicholson  and Stevie Smith  you may say the same

Sassoon with his Siegfried and Porter with his Peter

Were destined to have mastery of rhythm, form and meter

Marvell at the metaphysical, let Pope raise you higher

But the best poet’s name is Benjamin Zepheniah

Some poets’ names Onomatopoeically enthr...

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(A re-post from when I wrote this about old people.  These days it could be me)

There’s a lady out there

And she can’t climb the stairs

At her bedtime which is

Half past seven;

She was lured was Aunt Hannah

By the junkmail from Stanner

Into buying their Stairlift

To Heaven.

But she found it so slow

When she needed to go -

Half an hour on the Stairlift

...

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In einem Wirbel aus Emotionen und Schmerz,

Die Ex-Frau kämpft mit listigem Herz.

Die Kinder entrissen, dem Vater fern,

Ein Drama, das sich tief ins Leben gern.

Fehler in der Vergangenheit, schwer zu tragen,

Die Last der Fehler, die Hoffnung zerschlagen.

Doch in der Dunkelheit, ein Funken Glut,

Die Hoffnung auf Besserung, die alles umhüllt.

In der Zukunft liegt die...

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Generating conflicts.

Power of mind.

Election corruption and rigging.

Critising Liberalism of work.

Mounting turmoil.

Starvation and mounting strikes.

Collapsing governmental systems.

Creeping sinister undertones.

Uneven national consciousness.

Power of mind.

Potential violent flashbacks.

Improvised countryside.

Lines and lines of starving people.

Mounting te...

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Stone by stone
we made a step
Step by step
we went to heaven.

https://www.holocaust-lestweforget.com/jan-theuninck.html

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With an eye to eternity

and an 'in memoriam' murmur

from the caverns of posterity,

it's all sotto voce prophecies

in some sub rosa haze,

too late to be wrangled 

out of conjecture

right at the juncture

of hope and fear, 

where sophistry comes cheap

and distant requiems plead:

why did you care

for every wrong thing?

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This very heart that is mine will forever remain undefinable to me

To express such a thing resembles water slipping through my fingers,

Forever you will remain a stranger to my true soul;

Were you to trace the entire relief of my heart with your finger, you still, would not know me anymore

I am a stranger to myself and to the world

You embody the essential passion of a man’s desire ...

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Your illness for us all  has been a cruel blow,

You are not alone,down the path of recovery, with you we will go.

"I am well and getting stronger every day."

We your nation will support you all the way.

In the face of adversity you have displayed admirable strength.

Displaying for the protection of your children you will go to any length.

Your video message sat on a bench wa...

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                                 all the dead Catherines say -

                          The work is hard

                                            but not today.

                          The blood rages through the trees

                                 here on the cusp of spring.

                              Which came f...

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It started an amazing day , i smashed my goal at work 

but can't wait to go and see the kids , then realise I'm berserk 

the scream the fights  and tantrums , my words fall on deaf ears 

what started as an epic day has all turned in to tears

i do love being a mummy , love them with all my heart 

but gosh these kids are testing ,  when the rows begin to start! 

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In this a series of weekly essays on "Shakespeare's Prosody" I have attempted to correct, revise and make articulate to the modern mind the content and structure of the Sonnets, as well as some of the poetry attributed to W.S. I confess when reading these the inherent meaning is either absent or lost due to the antiquated syntax, use of extant words and the overall poetic mode or mood associated w...

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you look at me like i'm insane

i can't tell if i am

if I turned out to be psychotic

would I even be this self-aware?

i put on obnoxious amounts of chapstick

cotton candy or strawberry-flavored

it severely drys out my lips

but I know you'll think of me when you see it at the store

I always attempt to blow up my life

just because you left me again

you run ever...

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Well, I’m not black, and I haven’t dreadlocks,

but I grew up in Birmingham

and I am a poet of sorts, a vegan,

and of course, I support Aston Villa.

And if someone told me I’d but weeks

to live. my only regret would be the same

as his, that I wouldn’t see Villa

win the Premier League.

But here is where I differ from him -

Benjamin couldn’t produce any k...

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Trainer barista soul sister

with logo burgundy T shirt

plays the chromium steam

as a long queue forms. 

Old lady small dog wait patiently

soul sister with dreadlocks(I had thought a man) turns

ignores the deadlock of time 

not part of the plan this delay

busy time of day.

Turns again for cake under cover

some turn away and leave

time simmers while card re...

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Vulnerability displayed,

Emotions conveyed,

Your gaze, a maze of perplexity,

Every twinkle, an epiphany, a history,

How terrifying it is, to see so clear,

Your story,your dreams,your tears...

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I hear that today is World Poetry Day

So the good, bad and indifferent can have their say,

In whatever form they care to choose,

How nice if anything memorable ensues!

But it can seem like an excuse for the outstretched hand

From the poetry elite and their support seeking band

Playing the hard-up tune for their cause

Keeping it going...milking hands-up applause,

While the u...

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An old reminder of what happens to good poets on #worldpoetryday  So, I'm OK. You however...

A beautiful, dreamy poetry day, MASSACRE!

Through your window, the powder-puff clouds

And sun drizzled fields are beckoning poetic verse to be written. 

Behind you, a gentle scratching sound distracts

But you don't turn. 

It's probably that sneaky, little

dormouse that someti...

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