Luminous lament

She knew, she hoped, she begged it true.
But despite her efforts, away they flew.
She always thought they’d come to save her.
To take the dark and be her saviour.
A light would flicker inside her heart.
A smile would spread, then tear apart.
She never found love that ever endured.
Or took her sickness and made her cured.
From a loneliness that ate away.
A sadness that had come to stay.
Until she read deep in a book.
That she could change her fate, and all it took.
Was to love herself and believe deep down.
She was a spark from god, with her own crown.
A little flame, could burn up bright.
If she believed, she could banish the night.
And though it may seem trite and sappy.
She could not rely on others to make her happy.
And by doing this and loving her heart.
She found her soul mate, her other part.
The light now shone for all to see.
A neon blur of serenity.

Beneath

To live alive, and breathe and sigh.
Is folly to an untrained eye.
But to harken devils down in the depths;
of that blackest sorts. Whose intent unknown.
Leaves me shaking to the bone.
But in that sea where monsters dwell.
There lies a ruin, an unknown hell.
Yet I cannot bask in that sunlit waste.
It leaves me breathless, returning home post haste.
Into myself where I shine and glow.
A truthfully tale.
We all swim below

Down within

Down to the water’s edge.
Beneath the willow and the sadness.
He stopped his world for a while.
No hand to pull him back.
Only invisible fingers pushing him forward.
Reeling in his mind like spinning wheels.
He lay on the cold bank.
Shedding his tears into deeper pools.
Pouring out his misery and loneliness.
Until he drowned the flying fish.
An ice crept across the water.
Licking his bones and sealing his eyes tight.
His heart caught between a beat and a break.
Hurrying this ice-age that would sweep the world away.
Yet he does not dwell unobtainably with the gods.
Or at the end of a book to placed on the shelf.
His small pool of sorrow lies within.
Every time the change of seasons ring.
Each day your body sways and splits..
He aches once more for the shore.

Wash over me

The thread from my bones was caught and tugged.
Stuck on that rootless tree.
That dying ember.
Give me a place where it’s quiet in my head.
To rest and melt away.
This lake-shore I wander upon, littered with Prozac pebbles.
Stubs my heart and calls me to the water’s edge.
Reflected in the glassy eye of tomorrow.
Is nothing of what I cherish today.
As birds fly above, they swoop in and steal my thoughts.
There is no protector of my mind.
Leaving me numb and silent.
Dancing once more in the darkness.
To a rhythm only I can hear.

Little terrors

Once upon a night, when his mother had gone to bed.
Sam took a loaded gun, and aimed it at his head.
He did this for reasons that were many and few.
And you would have done the same, if only you knew.
What had become of Sam and the nightmares in his brain.
The horrors that sped into his soul, faster than a train.
He had tried to subdue them, pretending they weren’t real.
But they’d come all the same, leaving no other appeal.
But to end his life and to disappear completely.
So he tied up his world, and ended it so neatly.
He closed his bedroom door, and took a sip from his glass.
Placed it on the table, then watched the clock till ‘quarter past.
The midnight hour, when the ghouls were at their most.
The demons that terrorized him. The sad haunting ghosts.
He placed the gun in his hand, shot once after praying.
Fell to his knees, as another innocent slaying.
For Sam wasn’t mad, and he wasn’t even crazy.
Sometimes he was wrong, and definitely lazy.
But the devil was alive and well, and spoke to him every hour.
Wanted him to do these things, and made his dreams so sour.
But Sam was just unhappy, and mentally possessed.
And he saw this his only ending, because he was so depressed.

Her birds inside cry

She always comes a minute too late.
Peeking over emotions.
Waiting for the birds to take flight.
She named each dream in her mind.
Building for them a special home. A place of comfort.
But the fires, they raged for almost ten years.
Burning them all down to cinders.
Destroying her spirit to ash.
So now she steps. Carefully and broken.
Side-stepping hearts and crowds.
Like the pigeons in the square, she is present and yet vacant.
Keeping all at bay, as she paddles in her shallow soul.
For her waters are no longer there for swimming.
The sharks left nothing behind.
Silent and full of feathers.

Let the misery in with the rain

Unpacking the rain. Unboxing winter.
Wringing out the sweat of summer and the misery of me.
Dog eared and delicate.
Gnawed on by ghosts.
So sing me to sleep, with the lullaby of love.
Hold me in honeycomb.
Preserve me forever in your arms like ambers touch.
These simple things make me stumble.
Blind in the room of the forgetful.
Reaching for walls that are never there.
Only see through ceilings.
Promising such sweet delicious skies above.
Sat waiting for the clouds to roll in.
A result of crushed dreams and broken down frowns.
A product of such misery.

Fracturing

Tiny fractures creep long my skin.
Filthy fingers finding their way.
Trying to pull it all apart.
The pleasure is all theirs, swinging into their chaos.
Let go, show me forgiveness.
My own brand of consistency.
They eat away the hope like cancer.
Cutting my elastic mind of understanding.
Turning the strong stone of integrity to chalk.
Applauding as the dust floats away on the wind.
Covering another soul in despair.

Sinking ship

Do you ever feel like a sinking ship?
Lost in the fog. Alone in the sea.
I’m never going to quench your fire, so set me alight in my drowning.
Our signal is getting weaker. Crushed by ice and the ice age of uncertainty.
To live each day as it came, to swim to shore and roll with you in the sand of life.
Yet now the lifeboats are a hazy blur. I know you’ve set your heart aboard them.
My creaking and cracking splinters the marrow.
I crash into the asphyxiation of doubt.
Immersed in nothing now and the everything of you.
Watching my rope slither into water.
I am a sinking ship, with nothing left but a white flag.
Fluttering above my submerging heart.

Lonely tree

In the forest, all alone.
My lonely tree feels as cold as stone.
Surrounded everywhere by branches.
That bend and twist to their own advantage.
We shake in the wind, and shiver in sadness.
Sunken in our disturbing madness.
Until one day you came into the woods.
Scared the animals and riding hood.
Yet the wolves they ran, and hid like rabbits.
Convoluted out of their own bad habits.
And into my glade you stepped so proudly.
And struck a match and yelled out loudly:
“Love is a flame that burns us under!”
And as quick as lightening, you lit me like thunder.
So my lonely tree, burned quick and sadly.
And I faded away, into death quite glady.

Odyssey

Waking up and following the star, the one that dazzles and tempts.
Wondrous offerings of stardust and heroin.
Death is not the enemy.
The flat line, the one foot in the soil.
Hospital beds and pharmacies.
It’s all a commercial for heaven.
My journey that started with such abandon, where has it led me?
After all, I’m not where I want to be.
If I’m honest, I’m ashamed. Stuck in mortality, delicious sweet vitality.
My tank is far from empty, yet there’s water in the fuel.
What is now ahead, what is the remedy?
Will God take her time?
Tick tock clocks and crocodile teeth. Shaking in the can of life.
All it takes is one decision.
Concentrate.

Insatiable beings

Picking at the itch, scratching at the pain.
I unfurl my skin and peak inside. Where my subconscious lies.
The reasoning for all my trauma, the soul I once tried to hide.
I seek them now, in my quiet isolation. In this quiet reflection.
This pensive state saddens me, it makes me wonder what I was thinking.
The justifications for existence slip away into the dust of tomorrow.
Analysis this then please Sigmund Freud: My heart beats inside a skull while the brain drifts into the unknown.
I am subservient, I crawl to meet their needs. The spineless state of perfection that I secretly enjoy.
What mold did I break from, why are these thoughts no longer my own?
I wriggle and writhe in the sub text of this love, the self-serving reasoning and boot licking.
Underneath that there lies my clinging behaviour. My abandonment factor.
The mildly reassuring nature of my schizophrenic tendencies, knowing I’m never alone.
I sit and chew the fat, and choke on the truth in this carnival of sinners.