Tag / poetry

by Chris Chant

Love Story

A coming of minds
An illicit glare
Loosing themselves
To a hypnotic air

Resistance until now
Was such a great feat
Now giving in
To the throes of the heat

Not inclining to talk
So beneath a first date
A natural entanglement
A split second mate

Real naked ambition
Mutual sharing of will
Darkness of night
Adds to the thrill

A sweat induced coma
An uncontrollable tryst
Wedding bands shared
The undeniable twist

One night of passion
A lesson to learn
Both walk away
None of them turn.

by Chris Chant

Rumours

Choose not to believe
the lies and deceit
that deviants spread
and can’t be unsaid
A devil of deception
seduces their reception
with slanderous myths
of various trysts
They add to the absurd
from what they’ve heard
destroying minds
of an innocent kind
Exaggeration can kill
Can a liar feel
Is their conscious clear
when a victim is near
an edge of a gully
because of a bully
So don’t be naive
with what you believe
look at the source
and don’t be forced
into the game
of slandering a name
for the sake of fun
or disliking someone
With social media
it’s a lot easier
to make somebody bleed
by planting a seed
into empty shells
who don’t think for themselves
These people speaking
are just seeking
praise and attention
with no life to mention
Lies and rumour
a growing tumour
within our society
aiming for notoriety
It’s not clever
It’s no great endeavour
Help people, be kind
easing the mind
keep silent on the lies
Think with the wise.

Chris Chant 2018

by Chris Chant

Panic (Part two)

It’s dark
Imagination becomes a foe.
All of a sudden I crack – Snap,
Then lost in the commotion
the mind gets dense
unable to travel mentally
and my eyes are vice like shut.
Reached the pinnacle of panic
If I died now so be it – False statement
I know this can’t kill me
It just makes me stronger.
This anxiety is a passing shot
a warning with no substance
that used to never end
or that’s how it felt.
As a scene in a film
the mind zooms back to focus
back to the beginning.
Open my eyes, slowly
I’m in reality now, real time
knelt to the floor but alive.
Nod appreciation to the helpers.
The episodes are shortening
as I’m learning
to cope with the bad days.
I remind myself
I bring on the fear
I can take it away.

by Chris Chant

Panic (Part one)

The chattering begins
Hands scratch at the noises – scrape, scraping
that brings itchiness and irritants
to this controlled invasion.
A mind built of glass
cracked at the foundations.
Lucid thoughts shatter houses.
The Scattering shards produce a prickly sensation
Trespassing in the brain
leaving jagged edges
and haunted images.
I can see the ghosts of shame
walking the corridors
accusing the past.
My silent screams scare no-one.
Walls closing in
evaporating my screams
suffocating my dreams.
I surrender to the torment
lying back on protruded thorns
that pay homage to the sacrifice.
Breath diminished, colludes with the flames
causing an energy collapse
which leaves the mind broken
to a body unclaimed.

by Chris Chant

Only human

Human in nature

Attractive in stature

Built on intrigue

And mental fatigue

Looking for connections

Or past resurrections

People choose illusive

Bordering reclusive

A meet between two

With one briefly knew

A mutual respect

For the opposite sex

Want to know your being

And what your feeling

Deep from inside

No need to hide

A deep intense session

With no wrong impression

No guilt to justify

As honesty intesifies

A delicious montage

Tales of self sabotage

All truths no lies

Spill our minds eye

Not spiritual just there

A split second stare

A coming of perspective

Genuinely being accepted.

by Chris Chant

Stand up

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

Brick Wall

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…