The Arc of Loneliness

The weight of the world presses on my shoulders

The hands of an unfeeling oppressor

Digging in nails

Drawing blood

Shredding flesh from fragile bones

Until there is nothing left of who I was, am or will be

 

Tears of acid gouging rough paths in sunken cheeks

Below hollow eyes staring out in vain

Searching for salvation

Seeking the unattainable

Burned by circumstances beyond my control

Ashes of thoughts, destroyed by their own creation

 

Curled, child-like, under soft toys and weighted blankets

Protected from the harsh realities of the outside world

Cocooned by wretchedness

Cossetted by melancholy

A fate I have come, in my wisdom, to accept

Bereft of hope in any direction I happen to look

 

Maybe one winter’s day I will find my true self

Frozen at the bottom of an unfathomable well

Lingering there

Clinging on

Wondering if there’s any escape from this darkness

Or a flame I could ignite within myself

 

Damp wings unfurled against the dying embers of day

Struggling to see the beauty of their colours

Taking flight

No direction

Hoping the light will guide me to a better place

Where the weight is lifted from these tired bones

Love in 10 Words

~ Biscuit ~

The oven was warm

And that delicious smell wafted,

Light and airy,

From room to room.

 

The biscuits sat,

Soft and round,

Tempting the senses

On the tray hot to the touch.

 

~ Temperature ~

It wasn’t the only thing I couldn’t touch -

The distance between us

Too far to overcome

But you ignite something in me

 

The very idea of you makes my temperature rise,

My heart beat faster,

Beads of sweat form on my brow,

And I yearn for the times we were together.

 

~ Blue ~

But my heart is blue

Because you’re not here to tell me

That I didn’t put enough chocolate chips in the batter

But you love them anyway.

 

And all I want to do is tell you that

I love you more than biscuits,

More than that corn dish you like,

And more than all the pizza slices we can eat.

 

~ Embrace ~

I want to feel your arms wrap around me,

Warm as a summer’s day,

As I lay my head on your chest

Listening to your heartbeat through your shirt.

 

And I want to feel your warm breath in my hair

Right before you kiss my head

And I lose all control

Of my feelings towards you.

 

~ Petrichor ~

But all I have is the smell of your shirt,

Freshly cut grass and dirt

Mixed with the rain that fell

Just as you walked out the door.

 

I’ve gotten used to you walking out the door

But it never gets any easier,

Knowing it will be months

Til I see you walk back in again.

 

~ Orchestral ~

The sound of your car engine in the drive

Is music to my ears

And the sight of your face

Is a whole symphony orchestra.

 

My heart sings when I hear your voice,

Knowing you are home with me

If only for this weekend

And then you must away.

 

~ Scrubbed ~

When you’re not here, I clean the floors,

I do laundry and dishes,

I go to work and come home

To an all but empty home.

 

There’s my two cats that need looking after

And my son who’s old enough

But it’s empty without you

And this bed is too big for just me.

 

~ Ethereal ~

You’re almost like a ghost in this house -

Your favourite cup is in the cupboard

And your clothes are in the wardrobe

But you’re not here.

 

Your cologne lingers in the air for days,

Haunting my senses as I walk into the room

And filling me with a longing

I can’t even begin to describe.

 

~ Leonard Cohen ~

Your say your friends are gone and your hair is gray

Yet you’re the life and soul of any party,

Though few and far apart our dancing days

Because my arms can’t stretch that far.

 

But, in the lounge betwixt couch and window,

We’ll bathe in soft, dappled light

And sway together, tightly held,

As angels sing on high to hallelujah.

 

~ Scratch ~

What started as an itch to scratch

Quickly ran away from us

And is now so much more than either of us

When we fill our hearts with such joy.

 

The time we share is not enough,

When once we talked but had not met;

An ache that barely has time to subside

Before it is awakened once again.

 

~ Massaged ~

I crave you hand holding mine,

Our legs entwined while watching TV,

The way our bodies fit together

When we’re both done for the day.

 

You healed my wounds from long ago

And taught me there was more to life than pain,

Massaging away the loneliness

Until all that’s left is love.

Winter in War and Peace

The following poem, written in two parts, was inspired by the accompanying artworks and is written in tribute to the Ukrainian people during the invasion of their country by Russia.


Winter Landscape by Wassily Kandinsky (Russia) 1909

We do not welcome winter in Russia –
It is bitter and reminds us of war.
There is no picturesque sunset
Or field full of pink and yellow flowers.

The path to the farmhouse is cold
And our boots wear dangerously thin
But we must trudge on further still
Because wars are there to be won.

They are not won by big campaigns,
But by the smallest of decisions or incidents;
Battles turn on a razor’s edge
Thinner than the bare, frozen twigs.

These wars are won by soldiers
On a desolate island outpost
Telling an enemy warship
To well and truly go fuck itself.

Or maybe by women confronting soldiers
On the street where they might be shot
Holding out seeds for them to carry in their pockets
So sunflowers will grow where they die.

Wars a won by a soldier sacrificing himself
That many more might live,
And that the enemy shall not advance
Across bridges no longer there.

Or perhaps by ordinary people
Taking down street signs around the city
To confuse invading forces
And bring smiles to local faces.

Wars are won by allowing enemy combatants
To phone their families far away
To tell them they are safe and sound
In stark difference to propaganda seen.

Or they are won by men stopping to offer
A tow back to the border
To broken-down enemy tanks
Pulled over on the side of the road.

Wars are won by neighbours and friends
Refusing to refuel or give supplies
To invaders, aggressors and intruders
Who assumed victory would be easily had.

Or possibly by farmers and their tractors
Stealing away with the vehicles of war,
Leaving abandoned young men
Who know not what is they are fighting for.

We can see a house a little way up
Standing proud in the remains of the day
But even though it’s in our homeland
We fear the reception we might receive –

Because wars are not won with might,
They are won with humanity and courage,
With ingenuity, selflessness and defiance
Against a force that should not exist.

And though we wear a military uniform
And have a great war machine at our backs
We are no match for civilians
With a sense of humour in the face of such madness.


Winter Landscape by Kazimir Malevich (Ukraine) c. 1920s

We welcome winter in Ukraine –
It is stinging but reminds us of peace.
There are pristine, snow-covered trees
Not yet blooming with pink and yellow flowers.

The path through the forest is masked
And our boots leave heavy indents
But we soldier on to the town
Because peace is there to be won.

It is not won by big campaigns,
But by a people who will not surrender;
Battles begin and end in these towns
By sheer determination and will.

Peace is won by soldiers
Defending the land they love
Against an encroaching enemy
Who do not want to be there.

Or maybe by civilians taking an oath
On the streets where they live and work
To remain, to fight, to make peace
So others can return and be free.

Peace is won by standing together
Shoulder to shoulder, breast to breast
As the trees which shelter us now
Have stood tall and proud.

Or perhaps by children huddled
In shelters and refugee camps
Who will grow like acorns planted
To thrive in the land of their birth.

Peace is won by the surrender
Of conscripts tricked into a fight
They do not want or understand
Nor have a heart to fight.

Or it is won by friends in hostile lands
Flying flags of solidarity
In the face of incarceration
And an uncertain, frightening future.

Peace is won by neighbours
Refusing to see an enemy at the gate
But a people seeking temporary relief
From a force seeking to destroy them.

Or possibly by parents with broken hearts
As they say goodbye to their children,
Seeing them off on trains and buses
For destinations far away.

We can see the houses of the town
Standing proud of the snow drifts and swirls
As planes who bring nought but destruction
Fly perilously close overhead.

Peace is not won with military might,
But with the might of a heart that is full,
With brains, altruism and boldness
Against a regime not of this land.

And though there are no uniforms here
We are battalions amongst the trees
Dodging bullets and mortar fire
To bring forth a peace that will last.

Poetry

21/04/2021 – Poem a Day Compilation



Poetry is a flood of emotions,

Captured in the lines of text

Consumed by the reader

And passed on from mind to mind



The words flow when I am sad

Like tears dripping from my fingers

Staining the page with expressions

Full of sorrow and distress



The words flow when I am tired

And can barely keep my eyes open

Yet still manage to make my fingers move

To get the words on the paper



The words flow when I am bored

And have nothing else to do

But stare at the page

Until inspiration strikes



The words flow when I am lonely

And they are my only friends

Keeping me company

When the world has deserted me



The words flow when I am depressed

To give me an escape from my own mind

And to let loose all the chaos

That builds up inside of me



The words flow when I am ashamed

Acting as a release from the burden

Of that which holds me back

When I think I am not enough



The words flow when I am guilty

No matter how inconsequential

The slight may have been

I feel it deep within my soul



The words flow when I am mad

At myself for not being more than I am

And for being too much

For other people to handle



The words flow when I am hurt

Trickling from a multitude of wounds

That I probably inflicted upon myself

In the wakeful hours after midnight



The words flow when I am hostile

Towards an imagined enemy

Closing in on the gates

To the fortress that is my heart



The words flow when I am angry

At the world for its depravity

And it’s soullessness

When it should be a comforting place



The words flow when I am selfish

And only thinking about my own needs

My own desires to be heard

And to create something more than myself



The words flow when I am hateful

The metaphorical bile rising up

And spilling on the page

With venomous force



The words flow when I am critical

Mostly of myself

And my achievements

Or lack thereof



The words flow when I am scared

That I’m not on the right path

And my world will fall apart

Leaving me bereft



The words flow when I am confused

Allowing me to understand

Myself and the world around me

Through meandering verse and stanza



The words flow when I am rejected

All the things I should have said

But never had the courage

Spewing out of me like a torrent



The words flow when I am helpless

Fighting against the tide

Without a lifeline

Unable to save myself



The words flow when I am insecure

Seeking reassurance

That I am not alone in my thoughts

And there is some way out



The words flow when I am anxious

Coming fast and furious

Over the rocks in my brain

Creating whirlpools to trap me



The words flow when I am joyful

And bounce from my fingers

Onto keys that show the world

The smile upon my face



The words flow when I am excited

Bombarding the readers with images

Burned into my brain

By thousands of neurons firing



The words flow when I am energetic

The power the sun pouring out of me

A million times a second

Filling my cup until it runs over



The words flow when I am cheerful

Bubbling up and out of the pen

Each letter, each word, each line of text

A drop of sunshine to light the way



The words flow when I am creative

Turning pictures into poems

And painting images in the minds

Of those who would soak them in



The words flow when I am hopeful

Because words can change the world

They can lift up the deserving

And shine a light on the downtrodden



The words flow when I am proud

Glittering like diamonds

Strewn across a sea of troubles

That have been fought and overcome



The words flow when I am appreciated

So that I can return the thanks

Given to me for a job well done

Or for time given up in the service of others



The words flow when I am faithful

To my own thoughts and convictions

Not swayed by passing phases

But strong in my sense of self



The words flow when I am peaceful

And at one with the world

Lost in a mediation with myself

That fills the noise in my head with quiet



The words flow when I am trusting

Of the process I go through

Of putting pen to paper

And letting go of the rest of the world



The words flow when I am loving

Showing that love for all to see

Showering all those who care to look

With a glow that radiates from the page



The words flow when I am thoughtful

Contemplating the meaning of life

All the intricacies of humanity

And why it is that this form speaks to me



The words flow when I am content

And for that brief moment in time

Everything is right with the world

Just as it should be



Poetry is a flood of emotions,

Born of the turmoils and the triumphs

Given with courage to the world

Without expectation of reward

A Fleeting Encounter

20/04/2021 – Poem a Day Compilation



He stepped onto the bus in front of me

His suit freshly laundered by the smell

That was only just detectable under the cologne

He’d liberally applied that morning



He was sporting the designer stubble

That so many found utterly desirable

But I didn’t think it suited his face

And he’d have looked better clean-shaven



If I’d wanted to wager a guess at his occupation

I would have said middle management

Probably in a bank or other financial institution

By the way he carried himself



His voice carried all through the bus

As he talked into his earpiece

No doubt his constantly connected phone

Like an extra limb he couldn’t live without



I was glad to be getting off at the next stop

Away from his pompous attitude

And his overbearing presence

To go on my way in my minimalist peace

Surrounded

19/04/2021 - Poem a Day Compilation



I am surrounded by the pressure

To be more than I am

And sometimes I don’t know

How I’m supposed to deal with that



The pressure isn’t from anywhere else

But inside my own mind

And I argue with myself endlessly

About what I should be doing



I wish I had the confidence

To achieve what I tell myself I should

Maybe one day I will

But today is not that day

No Matter Where

18/04/2021 – Poem a Day Compilation



Written in the early hours of Sunday, just after midnight,

whilst watching the funeral of Prince Philip,

Duke of Edinburgh, formerly Prince of Greece and Denmark.



Though laid to rest

In solemn ceremony

Replete with tears

Fallen on sunken cheeks

Of old comrades

Known for so many years

And from bright eyes

Of grandchildren

Who had not enough time

All standing as one

In grief

A family in mourning

Not now any greater

Nor lesser

Than any other in such sorrow

You will be remembered

By those who held you

In high esteem

And in their arms

No matter where they may lay their head