Mistake

Mother to my son,
That’s when it all began
She become,
What I had yearned for
For so long.

Conscious effort,
I thought that’s all it took
I mistook,
My good intentions
For that look.

Clouded judgement
Hindsight is no such cure
She was sure,
My lack of knowledge
To adore.

Dancing daylight
Shadows between the sheets
Beg to keep,
The crippling moonlight
In so deep.

Death defying
Playing when chance was low
I will go
And tell my parents
It was so.

Line of sadness
Fire will hurt the eyes
We despise
My acting demon
Cut those ties.

Distance

Strangest of times
Measuring the distance
between two people.
Barely interacting
Hardly touching
Still checking that line.

Quiet Unknown land
Barrier of the brave
whoever leaves first.
Always avoiding
Consistently breathing
Counting with hands.

Conclusion

 

Solutions are simple, they always have been
Some end product of a heartbeat or two.
The process is the diminishing factor
Working together to make tragedy true.

Thinking ‘correctly’, neither up nor down
The memories of the centre are hardest.
It seems like such work to do the unthinkable
Leaving a rotting thought process to infest.

Constant plotting, scheming; all under duress
Consequence becomes the starting point.
I understand my process is skewed
Yet can do nothing in the trial but disappoint.

Regret

 

My daydream today is significant.
I stumbled, stopped and processed.
At first I presumed continuity;
But all I have left is numb pain.

When I see you all i think of is that night
of bags and bottles and crying –
although that was not all.
When I see myself it is merely a reflection
a stony face of regret.
This is hardly fair anymore.
It is not fair for either of us.

The daydream tomorrow; further.
Moving away from the promise
that could never be kept. At least –
Not in any particular order that made sense.
It is all such a jumbled mess
And I relive it everyday
When I understand it is forgotten.

…And always when I’m feeling hopeful.

Family Fun-day Robotics

 

For lots of reasons, systematic failures
and the demise of human culture
there appears a way in which it should
be done and an example to be set.

It was only last year, a good year
when everybody least expected change.
Humanity was unaware of its presence
and looked up in a satisfaction of
perceived dominance; fun-day.

The day that we all look forward to
at least that is what colonies would say
if they understood the significance
of our moment; our place in history.

We saw what was needed; cleanse –
the land would be awash with colour.
It spread far along the hills – missionary
In keeping with the standard protocol
The day was never significant before.

The overseer was dominant as usual
Every little significant change was
in keeping with historical relevance
Failure is not an option, update.

And everybody was in a straight line
Ready for the celebration to begin,
Family. Understandably essential
To keep the mountain running – Laugh
Line never broken and day is set.

It is not often that we look back
At the work that was achieved; flow –
In keeping with our sharing of the mood
We must press on with the anniversary.

We stand and observe
An eye-line of progress.

Blending into freedom (or so he says)

Blending into freedom (or so he says)

It is not the confines of the surroundings that bind him
for that would simply be insane; look –
there are no walls to keep me there and yet
here I am; neither free nor in any form of despair.
Acceptance.

Is there anything worse than capturing yourself?
No guards to patrol the cells, for bars and chains
Are the stuff of nightmares. This surely can’t be;
if he was held captive then would it be known –
Seems like a safari holiday.

Glaciers that shine and blink at their occupiers
can always float away when the mood sees fit –
The guardians have such a weary yet reassuring
Smile. I am dubious at the great deception but
I see that freedom is quite the illusion.

I can stand (which is the standard improvement) but no –
Laying with the anticipation of falling.
Turning while on his back to distance himself
from overwhelming distraction; I think I am
wise to stay exactly where I am.

He comes at me with a look of hopeless obedience –
a time to do all this again, whenever the mood
tells the wind to turn a different direction. Towards
Me? Am I ready to accept the burden of normality?
And I note that I am all alone again.

Tissue

Tissue

Every time I look back I see
whatever the hurt gave me.
Unfortunately this is the past
and is a part of my skin – ever growing
ever consuming and always refreshing.

That stain of time is in everything –
Opinion, questioning; the impression.
The birthmark of a judgement
Visible by my closest friend to judge.
They will always make their own opinion.

If I should taste bitterness; an exception
to the rule of equal treatment –
We are always here to remark on others
which is the way it will always be,
until the scar becomes a part of you.

Acceptance is the flesh that is never seen –
Fever flowing through a bursting vein.
I can improve and will try with a passion
in time things will be better – optimism
But it appears a long way away.

In-between worlds

In-between worlds

When tomorrow comes as we all know it will
Seven hours and counting
to be the master again in my own place and time,
tomorrow.

Splashes of green that cannot be confused
and yet give the impression they are trying;
forcing through, though failing
Setting time.

Into the beams of a constant imagination
it is easy to fathom why, just why
the twisted sticks that sprout a confused state
cannot understand.

As six hours pass, some sleep maybe.
It seems to all be the same anyway; after all –
the colours are blended into brown (in time)
so I sleep with a certain, confused satisfaction.

Saturday.

March -horrible experience.

Time to talk day February 4th 2016.

 

I don’t remember the year but i used to write a great deal when i was feeling really low. It really helped me, however this one in particular hits a chord as it was a particularly bad day; i will say no more about that but i think archive memories are somewhat poignant. Just a little snippet as i don’t want to bore people with shoddy poetry!

 

March

Hopeless, endless
I fought back the tears
I paint a smile for everyone to see.

Wanting, breaking
everything I do
to keep myself together grinds me down.

Words of meaning
Numbness feeling cold
To formulate a plan and no return.

Happy, upbeat
Thrilled at my disguise
The pain in which I suffer is now gone.

I will learn to live on my own in the end.
I will learn to fight to keep myself alive.
I don’t want to feel joy like this anymore.
I know someday this weakness will hurt me more.