I love the summer
But I have to say
I hate barbecue season
The loud conversations
The drunken laughter
And the smell of cooking,
Sausages and burgers
Floating through the window
The loud and cheesy
Dance/pop music
Assaulting my senses
As I sit here alone
With a single bottle
Of fortified wine
As the loud, drunken
Fools with their
Loud, manly laughter
Have countless crates and bottles
Ready to be consumed
Yes, I sit here alone
Always the outsider
Scribbling my lines
To console myself
With the idea of " art "
As if it is important
Not to be
Part of the crowd,
When the truth is
I was never invited
Anyway
Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 4:15 PM UTC
I've noticed as I grow older
And at 45 I am ******* old
I seem to be getting more resilient
Mentally, I bend
Where I used to crack
Things that 15 years ago
Would have destroyed me
Now I flick them off
Like an errant insect
That hassles me whilst I'm
Having a ****
The more pain that you go through
You must gain a tolerance.
Now I laugh
When I used to cry
Now I just shrug
Where I used to ask why
It's just the way of the world
I tell myself.
Life is pain
Get over it or die
Suicide now seems
Like a bad joke
They have taken all that they can
What's left now is mine
Is happiness the right
Word for it ?
Or just nothing left to lose ?
Whatever,
I'm feeling better than
In a long time
If this is becoming
Middle aged
Then it's pretty
******* good
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 6:55 PM UTC
Am I getting washed up on the rocks
Heading into stormy waters
The white-tipped waves are giving me a shock
I should slow down, I know I ought to
Sailing too fast into the wind
With adrenaline I'm wired
My heart is racing, my eyes are pinned
My brain is getting tired
It's getting too much every day
Sailing upon the high seas
It's costing more than I can afford to pay
It's all getting too much for me
Am I getting washed up on the rocks
Heading into stormy waters
The white-tipped waves are giving me a shock
I should slow down, I know I ought to
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 4:53 PM UTC
Time crawls so slowly tonight
A Friday evening in the setting sun
Even at this time of my life
Surely I should be somewhere having fun
Not necessarily a drunken, drugged binge
Just socialising with my peers
My timidity makes me cringe
I sit here alone, except for my fears
45 years old and I've got nothing left
Just a long, slow, sad decline
Battling boredom whilst awaiting death
My life a burnt out relic of what once was mine
I watch the clock's hands slowly turn
Waiting until it's time to sleep
A life-long loser, what have I learned ?
Nothing, and makes me want to weep
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC
OK, so I guess that I'm a poet
I'm told that it gives me responsibilities
I don't even want to know it
The only person I write with in mind is me
People should just look out for themselves
No! That makes me sound like a Tory
I'm a Socialist, that's important to me
But, art is different, it's not life
I could never write for someone else
I've only got time for my own struggles and strife
If you want to, pick someone else off the shelf
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
What was I supposed to say ?
What was I supposed to do ?
I just went out for a walk today
And then I bumped into you
At first I didn't recognise
Behind the clothes, and that hair-do
But when I saw those deep brown eyes
I suddenly realised it was you
We awkwardly talked of this and that
The dogs that we both were walking
Not even " How are you ", no normal chat
We really didn't want to be talking
There's too much that's happened, much too much
For us to try to just pass the time
I found it hard to look at, never mind touch
What I used to be proud to call mine
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 4:37 PM UTC
Sometimes inspiration is hard to find
And I'm forever in its debt
It's like trying to start a fire in my mind
And sometimes the tinder's wet
I know that some poets wrote every night
Larkin used to do two hours without fail
Two hours with no idea in sight
Would feel like two hours in jail
If I don't have a clue what to write
Then I'm just wasting ink
That's why this poem was so hard tonight
Much harder than you think
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
I am an idiot
I always have been
Now, at least I can see it's true
When I look at
The wrong turns I've taken
It makes me cringe
But, what can I do ?
Forty-five years old
And what do I have ?
Nothing
No nothing at all
Because I am an idiot
You see, I know it
That is something
Isn't it ?
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 4:53 PM UTC
Don't talk to me about democracy
How we can control our lives
It's nothing but hypocrisy
There's no control in sight
No matter who we hate, or who we back
We will never have any real say
A million people marched against invading Iraq
Yet for years they were bombed night and day
Remember the W.M.D. s
Their reason for more death ?
Who knows what it will be
What reason will be next ?
Now it's Syria, where the innocent die
Well, I for one, never voted for that
Who knows where, knows why
Their lies will next be presented as fact
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 2:40 PM UTC