Too Much, Too Hard

Why am I not aloud a life?

What lesson did I not learn?

Which direction did I not turn?

I live in an empty world

With little to nought to go on

And nothing inside to shine on

Only a mask that I must wear

So that I can pretend

That my hope is not at it's end.

The only things that are real,

Are those that make misery.

Is there no way to break free?

Did i ask too much?

I never wanted a lot?

Nothing is all I've got.

More Haiku

Brown fox jumps quick, ov'r
Dogs who sleep too lazily.
The pen writes forever.

Haiku

A set of five haiku poems influenced by the book Hagakure (trans: hidden leaves), The Book of the Samurai

Loyalty, the way,

Mind body and katana

I am samurai

俳諧

The world is a dream

Only a dream, wake up and

Be enlightend

俳諧

Learn from a rainstorm

Rush not, shelter, be wise, but

You will still get wet

俳諧

Defeated, the ghost,

Vengeful, one last action with

Certainty of mind.

俳諧

Heaven and earth moved.

Be determined!  It only takes

Your concentration.

An Ode To Pip, The Bonsai Terrier

My poem for today goes out to the most gorgeous girl in the whole wide world x

Love ya Pip x

I might only be little

But my heart is huge.

You might think I'm scruffy,

But my love is true.

All you big folk

Are really funny,

From down here

You all look really clumsy.

I like to be cuddled

And I like to lick you,

But hey, I'm a dog

And that's what I do!

So give me a cuddle

Next time you see me

And I'm sure you'll see

Why everyone loves me.

Lick lick xx

Creative Constipation

I really struggled for a source of inspiration today, so I just wrote about the situation in front of me.

Bang, bang, thud...  The sound of head meets desk.

Where am I going to find my next

Poem? I hope I can think of something!

I made it through half the month, not ready to give in.

There must be something inside my head,

*sounds of water droplets and echoes* - humph, 'nuf said.

There must be answer, an explanation, a solution.

45#############

;[p';[p';[p';[p';[p';[p';[p';[p';[p'

(-  For what it's worth that's my cat's contribution).

I've eaten six biros and I'm still comin' up blank.

Only cricket chirrups and tumble weed in the memory bank.

Oh! Hold on! I think I've got a poetical sprout...

Nope.  It just popped and fizzled out.

If I had hair I would pull it out!

Stand on my desk and scream and shout!

But there is still coffee in cup and cigarettes to smoke,

So I might do it yet, so fingers crossed and hope.

Little Car

Fast car,

In the night,

Peeling back blackness

With full beam lights.

Weaving its way,

Through lane and bend.

This night time joyride

Should never end.

The Sound

Rings out, across the dark,

An orchestra of combustion,

The music of compression and spark.

Clutch in,

Slide the shifter to new position

Notch to notch,

The pomp and circumstance of manual transmission.

Engine pulling hard

now into over-run

Rewarding the driver

More than a car, this girl is so much fun.

Slower now,

Streetlights reflect on chrome.

Ticking and plinking

Little car is home.

You & Me at f2.3

This poem is dedicated to my Priestess of Lomography, she gave me the inspiration for this late one night.

Peace and love FP 

I love it when

You hold me tight,

Cheek to cheek,

Soft, but still strong like a vice.

You see right through me,

And as you bring me near,

As we gaze, face to face,

There is nothing to fear.

Nothing concealed,

No hiding place.

We exist as one

In this heightened state.

You fill me each time

With beautiful visions.

Ours both to keep,

Preserved photonic collisions

Through streets, scenes

And places divine

We walk hand in hand

A relationship sublime.

You know what you want,

You see it, you take it.

You lay your fingers over me,

Their tips on my body, tracing,

Teasing, you focus me

This moment a treasure.

In this fraction of time

We are alone together

At the point of desire,

Fast as a conjuring trick

Your finger is on my button...

You press... Click!

The Race To The Edge

This was inspired by the film "Closer To The Edge", a film about Guy Martin and his 2010 Isle of Man TT campaign, and dedicated to all of the fallen heroes who have died doing what they love on this the most difficult event.

With ear plugs in, and helmet on,

Silence descends.

No more cheering,

No more commentator echoing round the stands,

Your breathing and rising heartbeat

Offer the only accompaniment

To the orchestra of nerves and fear.

You are alone.

Mind blank.

Staring down the decent into madness.

The revs rise,

Higher, higher and higher,

Hold..........

Go

Launch

From zero to the limit

In one frantic blink.

Blood stream pumping neat adrenaline

The warrior and his weapon

Headlong in a fireball

To either death, failure or glory

Chasing that crazy white snake

With all your strength

Over the mountain.

Everything on the line

Going for broke

All in.

In the lap of the gods

Screaming down the bleeding edge

Inches from fatality

pushing mortality

Against yourself,

The mountain,

The course,

And the clock.

No letting up

No rest

And no quarter given,

for the ultimate prize.

Why?

I hear you ask.

To race.

The Point?

What is the point of a rhyme?

Is it just the right word said at the right time?

Or is it something deeper?

A precision instrument that enhances the meter?

To make it skip, bounce or flow?

So the poem comes alive, shines and glows

But does it work without?

It can do, but your choice of words must be right.

Why is it so pleasing?

This poetical web of words i am weaving.

That makes me do it again?

To join many words and lines, that may rhyme, or not.

______

I may come back to this and see if I can expand on it.

Confessions of a Sky Box

Green light on!  Time for action!

Choose a card from my deck of distraction.

Music? Sport? Shopping?

Some recount about a house some bloke is building?

Repeats of past sucesses?

I have the cure for all your stresses!

Come, take a seat, surrender your soul...

I have the power to take control!

And now I have you captured

Flicking channels, gazing enraptured.

You are under my spell, with the screen aglow.

You're watching it, but you don't even like this show!

And that is by your own admission,

Should you watch in standard or high definition?

I have you! You are now my slave

There is little chance your soul to save

A voice from beyond, what is this?

Disturbing your widescreen, surround sound bliss

Now you have remote in hand, finger on the button is steady

Nooooooo!!! The red light is back on because supper is ready!

Checkout Carnage

After checking out the work of Mark Mace Smith who followed this blog of me attempting to write a poem-a-day for National Poetry Writing Month.  It struck me that I was writing for a sheet of paper, not for the human voice.  So with that in mind, I tried to capture a some of the unique flavour that I like about his work in this random story of "Checkout Carnage".

Peace Mark, thank you for being inspiring!   :0)

Why am I feelin like this?

Because man 'ere in front of me feels he's got to dis?

C'mon, she only doing her job!

So why do have to be

Unreasonably angry

Ventin' your rage for publicity

(just to look big you see)

Full of sham venomosity

Cos tha system against him see

Only him, not all of us see

Just because the barcode on 'is shoppin' wont scan.

This is supermarket customer mutiny - gone mad!

Why are you slingin' abuse?

There's no need for this fella

Just 'cos your 24 pack of Stella

Does not wanna registah

With the barcode inspektah,

Why has all patience left ya?

Do you actually think,

That shoutin' and ravin'

'Bout how the system is failin'

Your life "allegedly" degradin'

And how there should be a monitory savin'

Cos this corporate slavin'

Cos it's you who is money makin'

(this is the checkout girl who's takin'

This verbal berating

For the company's mistake n'

Their scheme of bottom line profit generation)

At this, I wanna get lyrical see

Rain down righteous animosity

At his misplaced hostility,

So his innocent victim be

Supported in some way, by me

But instead,

I look at the floor.

Wonder how people like this even exist anymore

And wait for this ignorant bastard to walk out the door.

So I can get with *my* day.

But before I go on my own sweet way,

I look at this girl in the eye,

And I can see that she feels the same way as I,

I smile and say "hi",

And as our brief transactional relationship goes by,

I can see we are both satisfied

That "this guy"

A dictionary definition personified

Of "chav"!

A Glimpse at Depression

I wrote this last night to get me out of a period where my head fell in on itself.  I have been using poetry over the years as a method of exploring my feelings and making sense of them, but this is the first time I have ever tried to write my out of a period of being extremely distressed, and I am happy to say that it worked.  So please take in to account the background state when I composed this, I make no apologies if you feel that things are over dramatised or melodramatic, I see this as a pretty accurate description.  I have thought a lot about whether to post this or not, it being very raw and personal.  However in the spirit of nothing ventured, nothing gained I decided to put it out there and see what happens.

If you want to gaze through my eyes, walk a mile in my shoes

I warn you, and beg of you that caution is used.

If you want to know what it's like to be ruled by depression,

Open you mind and I will teach you this lesson.

These words only a brief example,

A tiny fraction, a miniscule sample,

Of the effort it takes, to get through each day,

The strength that is needed to avoid mental decay.

This is a promise to the monsters who's prison

Hold the parts of my mind, that make life worth livin'

These words are my promise, my oath, my decree,

That one day this will end, and one day I'll be free.

No matter how many times that you knock me down,

You shred my smiles and leave me with frowns,

Bruise my heart and take away my hope,

Send my dreams up in puffs of black smoke.

Leave me beaten and senseless, disfigured and broken,

Lifeless and breathless with no reason spoken.

Leave me sobbing and shaking, hanging in tatters,

With no hope all, feeling like nothing matters.

Drive me to brink of endurance and suffering,

Have me staggering and swaying, limping and shuffling

Stretch out my emotions 'til they're almost transparent.

And cauterise my nerves with electrical current.

Burn my ambitions and rip apart my soul,

Leave me as a shell, dark, empty and cold.

Torture my brain, burn my thoughts to ashes,

Open old wounds, turn scars back to gashes,

You gut me, cut me, crush me and hurt me,

Flay me and shame me and try to enslave me.

What ever you do, however hard you try,

One thing remains on which you can rely,

I will crawl to my feet, battered and near beaten

As many time as it takes to get rid of these demons.

So no matter how many times you reduce my world to debris

You will never, I swear, never EVER beat me!

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to you, Nanny Pat!

With boots on feet and pack on back.

Striding up hill and mountain alike,

There is no place on earth you are afraid to hike.

From Kirkby Moor, to base camp in Nepal,

Our Patricia will do them all.

With trusty Thermos and banana guard,

You are indeed the ramblist's Avant Guarde.

With your experience, this weekends hike

Should be done with ease, and aplomb, in a trice.

When walking through Glen Coe, be bold!

And wrap up warm, 'cos its gonna be cold!

This was for My Godmother's Birthday Card.  She is off the Glen Coe tomorrow so happy trails Pat!

From My Inner Child To Yours

Hiccup, belch, burp, achoo,

Cheep, chirp, baa, moo,

Bang, slam, slap, boo,

Brum, chuff, vroom, choo-choo!

Boing, boink, hum, honk,

Clang, clang, clink, clonk,

Chomp, chump, boom, bonk,

Squeak, beep, ping, ker-plonk.

Hack, hiss, hoot, cackle,

Chuckle, chortle, tickle, giggle,

Snort, snore, yawn, twinkle,

Whizz, sparkle, splatter, snuffle.

Clap, flap, twang, smash,

Drip, splosh, splish, splash,

Gargle, gurgle, squelch, squish,

Hush, whoosh, tinkle, sshhhh!!

After yesterdays offering being more than a tad gloomy, I decided a little bit of nonsense would reset the balance  :)

Rumination

Cognition.

Thoughts collide.

Each one

Bending the other

To its will.

Which will survive?

Remain alive?

Will positive overcome negative?

Repetition.

Endless cycle.

Unforgiving

Bending me

To its will.

Can I survive?

Stay alive?

Will I ever be set free?

A bit gloomy I am afraid, but I wanted to vent.

"Can I Do It?"

A Poem a day you say?

Internally I feel a little dismay.

Can I do it?

'Course you can.

Are you sure?

Of course you can!

Ok then.  I will give it a shot.

Nation Poetry Writing Month or not.

With notebook in hand,

Focusing my lexical command,

Brain engaged to commit words to page.

What is the worse that could happen?

Apart from writers block,

Grinding to a terminal stop.

Chewing pencils and sucking pens

Waiting for the imagination drought to end.

What if I reach the end of my creative spool

What if I have bitten of more than I can chew?

Today is, after all the day for fools!

But enough of that!

It is time write, time to act.

Poetry will flow from my pen like a tap!

National Poetry Writing Month

After a little gentle arm twisting, I am going to try and write a poem a day for National Poetry Writing Month.
So.... here goes!