I have had an interest in writing since I was an early secondary school pupil. I'm now 28 and have become involved in writing a number of bits of poetry as a result of overcoming a battle with alcohol and drug addiction. I want to keep writing and to be a fluent poet. I need help with it though and that's why I signed up.. I'm an Open University Psychology and Criminology Student in my first year. I'm from Northern Ireland and I'm single, no children, just thought that might be relevant :) If you want to know anything else, just ask, but I warn you.. Don't be expecting straight forward answers! Lol! I'm joking, please feel free to contact me :)
Recovery My God this is amazing, this feeling that I have. It feels like I am on a high, my problems cut in half. I spent a week in London, spilling all my shit, Arrived home recently with a feeling that I’ve conquered it. The people that I met there touched my heart so true. Some of them are in so much pain, they can’t believe in You. The addict who still shoots up, asked me to pray for her, She couldn’t really face life, too traumatic for her. All the acting out I’ve done, down through all the years. Came to an end in London, in wavefuls of tears. I got this immediate feeling, that I was but a king, It was Gods free grace, and amazingly, I didn’t owe him a thing. The advice I got was second to none, filled with laughs and joy. There was a time when I couldn’t laugh, stuck as a little boy. I’ve found a place in life, where I truly do belong, I’ve been searching and searching for this place, for God knows how long. I no longer hurt like I did before, or feel the pain as much. I just need to show the love to others, as I received as much. I long for just a peaceful life, and that has come to pass. Instead of pity feelings, I should maybe go to mass. Or if I am rejected, I no longer have to care. My wounded child has gained some years, he now has facial hair. He’s had a shave and feels clean as ever, and it’s now his time to shine. It’s not just my life I’m living, it’s really his and mine. The other girl I felt for, had only turned sixteen, Only her second meeting, it was there that I had been. I wrapped my arms around her, and to me she did the same. For a brief moment we both agreed, we were playing the same game. This game is called recovery, where sometimes you may fall, Or maybe you run too slow, kick and miss the ball. Or sometimes you may shoot and score, pardon me the pun, But sometimes this game, it hurts, sometimes there’s no fun. Thanks to Thad, and Raj and John, Kelly, and the rest, I was taught and inflated, and driven by the best. Sometimes I thought negative, ‘what am I doing here?’ Other times I could feel the power, I was casting out the fear. It is really now my life begins, in sacrifice of self, I no longer wish to live my life, as a toy upon the shelf. I get up each morning, thanking You, for each thing that you gave me, And for this day, from my thoughts, that you will assist and save me. Seamus MacFearchair Dec 2016
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
GHOSTS: Or defiled corpse? (15/03/2017)
Stations of the Cross (14/03/2017)
Step 4 (14/03/2017)
Means and Ways (12/03/2017)
|Wk 46||1 event|
Hover over an event to see the details. ( open mic event, Write Out Loud event)
Sunday 10 November 2019
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