Going and Walking Back

And I’m back

as if by magic

I’m back

and nothing much

has changed, apart

from the knowledge I

now carry, nothing much

has changed

and it feels good, somewhat,

to be back

and to carry on.

I’d quite like the time to process the scenery that dances beneath me

but, I’m back,

so it seems,

I’m back

writing this to remind those eyes of my arrival and of my departure.

I never wanted the attention,

I can promise you that.

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The Anonymity of Change

There’s a lot to change

but for now

I’m content

and what a wonderful thing to scribble down on a page no one will see

I’m content

my words still remain unknown

my face still

no one knows

but I’m content

secure within my own anonymity

and there’s still a lot I could change

there is

but I can’t say I will

as of yet.

Looking at it This Way

I can just picture it now,

my mother balling down the stairs,

tears looking like two rivers

on either side of her face.

I don’t know much about death

but, as time continues to roll

forward, I’m learning as I go

and I’m waiting,

waiting for the day my mother

bounds down the stairs,

rivers overflowing,

not knowing where to look,

mouth mumbling something

I can’t even understand

and I’ll,

I’ll be able to do nothing,

just nothing.

I think death,

It’s a brilliant concept for the lazy:

sit back,

do nothing

and wait.

We can all do that.

Getting Older

Just remember the poetry

when all else is gone

remember the words

see the words

words that flash up in the corners of the mind

where memories once were.

Just remember the poetry

when all else disappears

and meaning filters away

just remember the faces

the lines written for each one

just remember

when all else is gone

it’s gone

the world will turn to a darker shade of light

and the sun will look more like the moon.

Just remember the poetry

just remember this poetry

if it can even be classed as such

just remember us

the artist’s who

despite everything

will always try to create

whilst the sun moulds into the back of the moon

and memories spell out letters

screaming out verses

we can’t even remember.

Creator Creative

There will come a time

possibly now

possibly in the near future

where I must decide

between this

these words

or my sanity.

My ability to create has

well

it can only stretch so far

before the elastic begins to wear down and snaps

right there

just in front of my hands

and I can try

try to grab it

hone it back

but there will come a time

when I cannot

and that

that time is fast approaching

possibly now

possibly in the near future

I must be ready

ready to loose it all

and start at the beginning

where a fresh page rests

already marked.

To begin again

does not equal “failure”

in fact

beginning again

means deciding

deciding to give it all to the wind

and wait

wait for life to arise

from the emptiness

and plan this journey

for us.

TODAY’S

Today’s awful

I already know it

already feel it

today’s awful

tomorrow

tomorrow looks brighter

I’d quite like to roll onto tomorrow

can I do that?

I’ve felt lower

much lower but today’s-

today feels like

like walking into a room and knowing no one but still continuing to sit down anyway.

Today’s awful

and today

I thought I’d do something

piece together my life and glue together the bits that fit

today I thought I’d wake up and see midday through with a coffee and a book

but the coffee’s cold

and the books

the books are written by far greater artists than I

so I

I leave the envy to someone else

and I wish I could leave the reality of today to someone else

but I must live it

through it

beyond it

until I breathe with it

instead of against

it.