Month / July 2019

by Chris Chant

Brick walls

If I had to write this with compulsions
It would take a hour for each word      An empty shell with a story to tell
Thank heavens I can now be heard

Blurry lyrics or a collection of genius
My perception they all make sense
A messy mind had a complex calm
Writing this feels so intense

My lowest point, I’d be counting letters
Fragile with anger in my darkest hour
Turning pages a bittersweet torment
Anxiety risen, a story turned sour

Six months I’ve received this calm gift
Continued to put paper to pen
A thought stuck in the back of my mind,
Will my creative desire be grounded again?

Youth was hell, middle age is now
Although the middle feels like pretend,
Because what if this just six months relief,
Keep questioning how’s it going to end?

This thought really struck hard
A pool of water drowning my flair
The best way to be guided forward,
Is to make it real, stick it out there

A clear mind feels to good to be pure
Intrusive thoughts, a form of creative theft
If I couldn’t produce my written work,
My impression is, I’d have nothing left

I’m pleased my lyrics are not lost in translation
It’s where my silent mind has its speech
Forever fighting this fermenting stigma
I hope its helped someone, the people it has reached…

by Chris Chant

Passing By

Only an hourglass can drown me
Stop my obsessional time
From Flooding my senses
Where paradoxically, numbers play god.
Here I stand
Watching clocks
Counting seconds
Until minutes are lost.
Cursed to view existence
Consciously through life,
Living to the speed
Of a hand wound by a hand.
Its symbolic in nature
Ticking to the hearts beat
And When the cogs finially stop
It’s time for me to sleep.

by Chris Chant

All Stand

We are all living
We are all dying
Ask for forgiving
When the soul is flying

We can all speak
We can all be silent
Tested at our peak
When the world is violent

We can all act
We are all still
We choose to react
To help at will

We can all love
We can all hate
Cleanse the fisted glove
Before it’s too late

We can all kiss
We can all shout
Think of the effect
When we open our mouth

We can all laugh
We can all cry
Leave no wrath
When you die

We can choose wrong
We can choose right
No one belongs
In a sense of fright

We can all be kind
We can all be mean
We can all be blind
To the horrors we see

We can all be quiet
We all have a voice
We all have a chance
To make the right choice

by Chris Chant

Shouting at the rain

Empty spaces filled with souls
Risen by false pretences
Offering shelter to the storm.
Worrying minds the most vulnerable
Of all catastrophes,
Affecting visionaries with regret,
The brave shrunk down
To shadows of cowardice.
When will we realise
To ignore the whispering talk
Expressed by deemed prophecies of hell
Who live to shorten life.
Thunder has rumbled
The inner soul for too long,
Time has come
To bathe and cleanse internal scars,
Dry our spirit from the rain
Hang our skin out to burn,
Because If we follow ourselves towards oblivion
Only darkness will return.

by Chris Chant

Torture inside

Shine a light to forgiveness
And the weight of the heart will tighten
Ending the dark path to grudges
Allowing tight breath to lighten

Pain not visible with the eye
But as a cloud its lifted
Only overgrown roads remain
Emotional state has shifted

Maybe once fear ruled the kingdom
In time Invaded by rational control
Thoughts steered back onto reality
Saving mind, sanity, and the soul.

by Chris Chant

First Thought-

Echoes in the mind

Flow rampant, encircling

Affecting most prominent responses

Albeit listened

It is unmoving

Though unnerving

The primary speaks truth

Imitations less reliant

Consistent in its perseverance

A skimming stone

Simmering to a sunken weight

Dead in the water

Sits of an innocence

Vibrating ripples of continuance

by Chris Chant

Set Free

Save myself by creating heartbreak
Ending affection for ending sake
Not personal, a quick draw decision
Wouldn’t of lasted, said my premonition
Of a close soul breaking my heart
To escape I quickly force it apart
Convinced my dark vision is true
Before it’s me I’ll end it with you
Romance is dead but the pain lives
Couldn’t control the doubt love gives,
living life with stop and starts
Short lived dates and broken hearts

The one set loose will find a match
To with feelings, there is no catch
No pits of empty days or sorrow
No happy one day, down tomorrow
By then the jealously creeps to bite
Thinking about them close at night
With an anxious mind it’s hard to confide
The insecurity locked inside

Can’t commit to time or to lust
Defences are high in the aspect of trust
Testing to see who will try and return
Loneliness the only lesson to learn
Always looking for that one salvation
Who saves me from my false self-preservation

by Chris Chant

Bones

Crack an egg with flippant innocence
Yolk pours out as blood
Run towards a hopeful resurgence
End face down, into the mud

Crawl to find a crowded peace
Drag breakages up so steep
Cries of help welcomed and received
Who cares who sees you weep.

Split second collapse takes the wind
Falling down upon the sword
Disfigurement will never rescind
Never perfect, always flawed

Once I sat and thought alone
Fears dormant in the head, never spoken
Now I view my offset bone
Terrified, it’s not just my mind that’s broken.

by Chris Chant

Summary

First thoughts I dispense with caution

Notion with an ironic flaw

A split second occurrence

With no stage for reflection

Containing irrational undertones

Speed ‘Becomes’ essence

Dismay is uncontrolled

Outlines feasible complications Conversation is to-be heeded

True words believed, transpired with time

Character prevails via choices

Shaped by unrushed competence

Instant verbs evolve and mature

Sharp decisions cease to race

Knowledgeable peace combines

Sheds light on existence

Judgement swallowed by reality

Being misconceived becomes scarce

Harmony elected with a mutual dignity.

by Chris Chant

Fallen

When sat alone
With the weight of blood
Panicked in solitude
Restricted from external wounds
Do we cry,
Or lie down upon the sympathy?
Voicing the same tale
To heighten ears
Imagining on empathic fears
Which soon dies
From curious eyes.
The scars of eternity sparks interest
To unknown generations
Seeking if the whispers are truth.
They are, if not worse,
Bones were cracked
Shock crushed the breath,
The story revealed forever wrapped in light
Never disclosing
How close we were to death.