Gone

I wrote you poems
Likewise they are now long gone
So I just sit here

Sometimes…

Sometimes the dark becomes too deep
I seek the light you held in sleep
Down by the shore where willows weep
While waves lapped gently at your feet

Sometimes the dark becomes too deep
I miss the times our eyes would meet
The holding hands in busy streets
Stopping so our lips could speak

Sometimes the dark becomes too deep
In memories I cannot sleep
Tormented by the past I keep
And in the emptiness I weep.

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Run

So they said that it was over
And you knew it to be true
Couldn’t rest upon their shoulder
When the weakness ran you through
So you turned away from loving
Like it reeked of cheap purfume
But until you let yourself believe
The demons stay to roost

When tomorrow comes
You’ll run yourself alive
Feel the air within your lungs
Let pain become your guide

You can cry yourself to sleeping
In an old familiar bed
While the ghosts you keep disturbing
Fly around your weary head
You can scream into the pillows
While the darkness eats your dreams
But until you see the truth you hide
You’ll never be at peace

When tomorrow comes
To run yourself alive
Feel the pain within your lungs
Let pain become your guide

Now you polish up up your pretence
And you mask the pain with pride
So none can see the punishment
That you give yourself inside
Friends who see behind the curtains
Know the journey they you’re on
Don’t push their help to far away
The road won’t seem so long.

Take a chance to see outside
Lift your head from out the vice
Burn the pictures, Roll the dice
Know that yes, it once was nice
But rivers flow, Under the ice
Face the chance of life
Bag and bin the pain you’re in
Fight the dark inside.

When tomorrow comes
It sees you come alive
Turn your face towards the sun
Feel the warmth, the cold, the fun,
Find the smiles you hid so long
Sing the songs you wish you’d sung
Just move your legs
And run.

We paint pictures

We write the words

We cannot speak

Smearing sentences

Across blank screens.

What would we say

If we weren’t afraid?

Instead, we paint pictures

From minds blurred,

Mumbling through masks.

(Found dated 4th January 2017, and don’t believe it was published.)

With each word

With each word
Carefully creep back in
So subtle your fingers
Claw into crevices

Before long I am lost in sunlight
In the park where we walked
Wishing for that summer once more
Knowing it can never be again

Slowly shedding
By syllables
Prying you out
With each word

The circle-cycle sings its song
Where now the strength to carry on?

To do the things your love revealed
Before the truth became too real
And stories told unravelled fast
Leaving clouded shades of past.

I take my place upon the stage
No longer searching for your gaze,
There find the strength to carry on;
The circle-cycle song is sung.

Resigningly retreats
With stocking feet
While kisses
From her lips bestows
She shuts the door
And quietly goes

Sick day

I stare at the passing bus
Wondering how much
The wheels would hurt
As they roll over me
But it would be extreme
To watch my body bend
And break
Just for the sake
Of getting out of work
When the only reason
I don’t want to go
Is there is so much life
I want to live
(I think I may need a new job folks.)

Hearing plaintive cry
Swiftly attend to assist
Old cat forgets doors

Maybe now its time
To learn to breathe for myself
Rather than for you