John Bingham

John Bingham Poems

I wake up in the morning try not to wake the wife,
another boring day in my endless boring life,
As silent as I can I put my foot upon the floor,
An hour and 30 minutes till I need to leave the door.

It hurts to know that you're not here, And that we will never be,
We spent the best of days together,
and now you're not with me.
We fought a lot before you left,

Falling asleep I'm just not going to fight it
Cigarette in mouth explosion if I light it
In a feat of engineering I got the hose pipe through the window I'm pretty proud of that but is suicide a sin though?
They say that your responsible make something of yourself

How big is a timer for the grains to count?
Can you spare a minute of time?
To read what I've written as the sand runs out
as I share the grains that are mine

I don't know what I'm doing here,
I don't know why I stayed,
I figured all my measures out,
And choose the one that weighed.

Why is there always a fight!
It feels like you want to do this.
Why can't you admit you're not right?
I don't think that we're going to get through it.

I really should say something,
At least to look alive
But I want to sit hear quietly
and hide behind my eyes

Don't let go of me, I'm scared
Where am I going? I'm not prepared
I'm not ready to go, I'll miss you
I'm not ready to die, to never kiss you

Winters coming dear,
It's getting could outside.
We'll turn the heating up
and sit and hide

I can hear me screaming
To escape my head
Locked behind a solid door
Making me numb, feeling dead.

Trying to lie behind these eyes and rest my weary soul
If cracks appear in my foundations fall into the hole
I feel fine a line I say I make the people laugh
How someone can so upbeat be beaten broke in half

I'm just contemplating, nothing in particular, my mind is blank except for
The thoughts of the next words which might occupy the space behind my
eyes. My pain lies behind the tired lines of my face, my blank expression,
My depression, hidden by the tired mind, the persona when you see me

Glutton for punishment glutton for pain
Glutton for struggle and glutton for strain
Crumpled and crumbling battered and broke struggling to breathe as I constantly choke
struggling to stand as I struggle to crawl

With Curly white hair and pearls round your neck, oh Grandma you'd
always be there,
And with my hand on my heart and your print on paper, Grandma I'll never not care.
With bible displayed, your picture beside, safe with a locket of hair,

Neck it Neck it, they say to me.
I can hear them…..But I'm damned if I can see.
Stumble out the club, get some grub. Fall into a tree.
This is sober me! I say.

I offered you the world and more and to the moon and back
and would gladly give my life for you to keep our love on track There's an infinity of areas I may not prove my worth
But I offer you my happiness whilst we remain on earth.
I offer you the breath I take the place my feet may stand

I feel it taking me away I don't feel like myself
Forgotten how to smile now and how to keep my health
The fight has gone there's nothing left I'm drained I'm done I'm dying
I've lost myself to all of this and used my tears from crying

If I make some noise maybe he will stir
Repeatedly paw his face. Mew then purr
Innocently walk over him, he inhales my fur
Then choke! He pulls the hair out his mouth,

Tap Tap Tappity tap go the keyboard keys,
Food and dust betwixt my fingers sticky with a sneeze.
Ominous marks on an adjustable chair smeared across the seat, Bits of dirt and paper clips underneath my feet.
Screens that flicker on and off if you knock your desk too hard a desk of which is just askew and levelled with some card

My father was a cobbler
And cobbling what he done
He made some simple shoes once
and gave them to his son

John Bingham Biography

I have been writing poetry for around 20 years now as an escape from my own feelings or as a way to express my self in a manner i am unable to verbally. I hope my poems resonate with others.)

The Best Poem Of John Bingham

My Best Day

I wake up in the morning try not to wake the wife,
another boring day in my endless boring life,
As silent as I can I put my foot upon the floor,
An hour and 30 minutes till I need to leave the door.
I step into the shower the water hits my back,
The missus doesn't know that last week I got the sack,
she doesn't know about the bills sat inside the draw,
I sense her hate for every day just a little more.
I step out of the shower and dry myself with haste,
Today is so important it isn't one to waste,
She doesn't know 10 years ago on this day we met,
I'm pretty sure my kids as well would sooner just forget.
I'll wear my shirt and tie should always look your best,
I shouldn't wake them up for byes I'm sure they'd rather rest,
I wrote a note I'm sorry see, their better off without,
A useless sod, who's got no hope, there won't be any doubt.
I close the door so not to stir my sleeping wife and kids,
Made sure they all had pack up in plastic tubs with lids,
I'm sure the world will better without a man like me,
I check the garage beams last week their stronger than the tree.

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