Through an old decaying window
I feel a gentle breeze,
In this cool quiet morning
I can barely hear her breathe
...
Dust gathers on my picture of you,
My love, my dearest departed
Seasons change warm to blue
And the hands of time keep marching
...
The poison in the needle is not the cure,
It will not bring you back to where you were before,
Twill suck you deep within the depths of hell,
Spin you round an' push you down a crooked well.
...
My mental illness plays
Against my better days,
Scorched by a ferocious heat,
From my head to my feet,
...
You may conspire with politicians,
Coerce judges to be thy slave,
You may bribe the fickle jury,
But thy will not escape the grave
...
Poetry is about finding beauty in unlit places.
We can all agree the ocean is magnificent,
But what of the barnacles hidden beneath the pier,
where crustaceans lay year after year.
...
She resides in beauty, so delicate,
So perfect nature dare not conspire.
God himself an admirer of his work,
Heavens soft clouds desire.
...
Our differences could spread the length and breadth of two continent's.
Where as, our similarities could fit through the eye of a needle and still have room to spare.
I sit across from him in the office.
Oh, how i detest and loath that man.
...
You don't need a fishing boat,
A rod or some bait,
Often, the best poems
...
You fall, as silent as snow, into a hole
of unwanted thoughts and panic.
To slow a fast beating heart while still
In fight, is as impossible as it is to pull
...
The ingredients in our bodies were assembled in the hearts of long dead stars over billions of years and have assembled themselves spontaneously into temporary structures which are able to think and feel and explore. And at some point those stuctures will decay, and some time in the distant future there will be left nothing at all.
Whatever the problem, however painful, however tough, perception is the key.
Perception is the ability to obtain the power to unlock mental and spiritual freedom which is held within us all. The mind works in accordance to what the mind believes. Your thoughts are constrained only by your imagination. Whether you think you can, or you think you can't - you're right!
The world is as beautiful as you wish it to be.
...
Apocalypse Morning
Through an old decaying window
I feel a gentle breeze,
In this cool quiet morning
I can barely hear her breathe
In my mind, this day I thought
Would never truly come,
But this day is here, now, and
Thy judgement will be done
Desperation lingers, sadness
Adorns the hall,
They hung a purple ribbon from
Outside my mother's door
Her beauty now a tender shell
So delicate like a flower,
It Is my deepest fear that
She'll have passed within the hour
Her raging battle calms, inside -
Her mite is all but gone,
The referee drawers a holt
And declares that cancer won
Letting go of her bruised hand
Is admission of her defeat,
Accepting our loss are the tears
Running down our cheek
To try and say one last goodbye
To someone always their,
To never see her face again
Is all too much to bare
We pack up all her cherished items
Into a bag with which she came,
Just a few small precious things
That helped to keep her sane
Outside, in the busying car park
I stand alone with everyone,
Feeling like a small lost child
Who's searching for his mum
The picture left in my head of her
Is not the one I saw today,
It is of beauty, love and kindness
And that will always stay
... And but for the sky there are no fences facing. Bob Dylan
Dedication is the wind that sails the boat towards a land called victory. Chris Wiggins