Burn the Portraits

No matter what our minds tell us
We all feed at the same table
Others choose to leave
Some are not able

Once I spoke what I heard
And was hit with ridicule
I wrote it down in words
And become my own hero

When we die
We all become ashes
A blink of the worlds eye
A life over in flashes

Psychologygically out of place
Psychologically stable
We all have the one face
And feed round the same table

A passing Goodbye

One minute I was falling
The next I was free
In an expanse of wonder
A place of my dreams

Parade through the valley
Breathe amongst the flowers
Living here is magical
A second lasts for hours

I love exploring the fields
Where the horses run
I’ve only just arrived
It’s feels I belong

I dance among the trees
Shake the fruit from above
I sing with the birds
The song is full of love

I lye down in the grass
I look up to the sky
An echo rings my ears
Of you saying goodbye

A life gone full circle
An innocence released
I’ll miss and be missed
Though my heart is at peace.

Book release

The front cover and Amazon preview of my poetry book due for release at the end of August.

It contains old and new poetry using a mental health concept. Each one along with my own photographs.

Not available for pre-order yet but watch this space.

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…

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.

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.

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.