My first, longest, truest love – writing. Step inside and have a browse, leave a comment, praise or slate, it’s all good!
When…Did I stop looking up,
To take in the sky, and realise
How great it is, just to be alive?
Why…
Is it ok for freedom of hate speech,
Yet any words spoken against hate
Are suspect and attacked?
How…
Have we come so far,
Only to fall backwards willingly,
As if we have only grown infantile?
Where…
Has all this hateful ugly shit
Come from?
Jagged edges
Sing of forgotten pain,
The righteous indignation
But why, forgotten again,
Just more ragged sorrow,
Dipped in tears,
Forever is tomorrow,
Take away the fears,
Subtract all reason,
Remove all thought,
For this feeling inside,
Is all that I’m not.
Not unhappy, not sad,
Not quite.
Nor anger, frustration,
Or sense of loss.
This is something else,
Something deeper instead,
The scrappy fighter standing up to be counted,
Shouting, “I’m not dead!”
For that is what is inside,
What cannot ever be changed,
The valiant effort
To hold onto the unchained.
No melody here, just ragged emotion,
No feast for the eyes, or poetry in motion,
Just raw-jagged tattered remains,
Of every wish fulfillment my soul ever contained.
And yet I sit here, quandary untouched,
The real reason I cry leaving me nonplussed,
No closer to the truth, than I have ever been before,
Elation without ceiling, depression without floor.
So instead I spin out,
Letting the waves crash around,
No fighting is necessary, when
Clear safety can be found.
Inside,
Decades of pain,
Learned
Or otherwise.
So the tears fill,
And spill,
From tired-burning eyes.
And still,
After all this time,
It’s the me, I do not know.
Still spinning,
Still here, fighting
The undertow.
A perfume walks by,
Encased in a human,
Reminding me of child-
Hood, teasing tendrils of
Memories, wrapped in emotion,
Of easy thoughts, and innocence,
Before being blasted away by
Pressure, dropping into the
Daily buzz of busy bees,
Work takes over, the
Scent fades away
Another dreamy
Memory tucked
To bed, until
Next time.
The grey rain splashes words
Wiped clear each swiping moment,
Rhythmic tender stroking slide,
Squeaking clean, life taken once
Per stride, and still the nonsense spins
Around, deep inside where up is down,
Your loving smile and gentle touch, enough
To keep the demons down, and still they
Spin, and spit they’re rage, at dancing lonely
On internal stage, ‘stead laughing gaily as
Once were free, now trapped inside the
Stories, three strong and healthy happy we,
With love, and care, compassion, free
To wend our own private story together,
The love we feel, our own happy forever,
And still the mishcevious glint in eye,
When all we want is right nearby, yet still
We dance, and sing, and ache, without the
Caution of age’s sake, for ever we are in
Between our own, our love, our life, our family,
Our home.
Early morning, crust just washed
Away, a bright start to a new day, the
Wet reminder of dog sick-soaked sock,
In the wash now, kitchen floor wet with
Night-time’s urgency, still it’s early, barely
Dawn, born of sleep, the groggy self still
Cracking open rough eyes, brain slow,
Molasses in July, still bright and shiny,
Kicking into high gear, then you, just awake,
Brighter eyed for years younger, smiling,
A hug and smile, warmth and love doled
Out, shuffling off to your own morning
Routine, then back to the semi-darkened room,
Slumbering beauty waiting for more cuddles
Kisses, all trailing me to the car, to work,
Happy voices, promises made, no more
Flashing anger to foggy dream, another
Warm hug and light kiss, dreaming my
Way to work, through morning traffic,
Parking with a smile, and only one wish
In my heart, that the happiness continues,
And that all should be as happy, continually,
I laugh while logging in, so much joy to be had,
Just another wonderful morning, life
Filled with love, warmth, and laughter,
It just doesn’t get better than this, does
It?