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Emotions on a platter

You think I write to impress?
I would be playing hide and seek.
With death if this pen didn’t express

What this heart filed away
Don’t talk to me about strength
Damn it not today!

These thoughts chase me.
Only God knows.
Why they didn’t erase me.

What’s the matter?
No appetite for
Emotions on a platter

Shut up to the voices!
That remind me nightly
Of all my wrong choices

If you thought
You will see me give up
Of whatever your drinking
I will buy you another cup

A MAN'S ABACUS

One for waking up
One for the food I have eaten
And I am yet to eat
Like my mother taught me long ago
I still count my blessings

One for my safety
And one for my health
Why is it after all these
I do not feel thankful?

Darkness, my old friend has turned on me
I can feel him judging me through the blackness
As I stare at the wall blankly
My mind both working and empty
He whispers and laughs behind my back
I thought you were strong, he chides me
And I just lie here,
Broken

Hitchhiking in the Dark (for Candlewitch)

Sullen rain beats upon me
A black figure beside midnight asphalt
Stars forgot my name and remained veiled
Soaking melancholy from a coal box sky

Never did I see or hear
Two beacons or the hum of gears
Pistons pushed by little fires
Life’s direction steered by fears

As hope dissolved into a void
Whose home lived with me on the road
Sable feelings walking me
Through this darkness all alone

Crooked

My Great Grandmother used to say
"Hes so crooked he cant even lie straight in bed"
Its a shame that, even at my young age, ive developed
Scoliosis

I started a new routine where i place a pillow
Underneath my legs before I stare
At the blankness of my ceiling at night
Filling its white canvas with images of regret
Of hurts caused
Of moments where I didnt stand firmly
In who i was or thought I should be

Could Have, Would Have, Should Have

I could be a better person if I Took the
Time to review my life
Eliminating everyday strife

I could be a better person if I had the stamina
To aggressively capture past events
Strong enough to make positive comments

I could be a better person if I would
Have taken the advice of those employed
Instead of thinking about freedoms enjoyed

I would be a better person if given
The help from friends and family
To lessen my conceived sanity

Master of Puppets!

Back against the wall
you move towards the throng
the throngs of the innocent
you’ve left wasted, undone
isolated and sullen
caught up in a race
humanity's woes
your final disgrace
all the marionettes
held up by strings
sing the same songs!
is this but a dream
the only hope
for the wasted and weary
your kingdom is face
scamper off now
like a rat in the quarry
you've done your final deed
and can't conjure up
the words I'm sorry

A SUMMER'S DAY WALK IN THE MANIFOLD VALLEY

The day dawned, dewy, but the mist was clearing.
The sun rose fiercely, soon was scorching, searing.
The trail was blazing and our heads were burning.
From Wetton Mill, we walked; we were returning.

We stopped to shelter 'neath a leafy bower.
We said, "five minutes," but we sat an hour
to hear the murmur of a stream, fast flowing,
and listen to a field of flowers growing.

The Big Smoke

“An adventure” I said
When I took them on a train to
The big smoke
Once there, I held onto them so tight
Shocked by my motherly fears
Passers-by not looking at me in the eye
Apologising repeatedly,
dismayed by the speed of life
They are not used to the pace, the constant human race
Our Northern attitude shone through
like a rare jewel
I was no ready for the big smoke
The surfaces covered in dirt reminded me of our old coal shed
And the man who used to delivered it,
was too from this big smoke

Cheshire and Fat

you be the iconoclast
i'll be the hatter
i'll mend the statues
you tend to shatter
we'll be lyricists and linguists
consanguineous cats
informally affected
cheshire and fat
glimpses of glee but never quite free
so puzzled by who wrote the hymn
but we damm sure know
who wrote the book

Fire and Ice

he fired the flaming arrow
into the small funeral craft
that carried his sweet life mate,
and newly still-born male child,
now gone from his tight circle, but
so fresh in his mind.
the craft burst into flame
as soon as the kindling was lit.
his life as a highly skilled bow hunter,
feeding and clothing he and his wife
who had lived together in happiness
for the two years they spent in loving.
he could not help but feel responsible
that his family of three, had not survived.

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