Dear Self,
Step away from the edge
Hold on to who you are
In your mind
I can see you falling
I can see your eyes fire
And flare
I urge you not to let your thoughts
Take over you
Why do you have so much trouble
Looking in the mirror?
Why do ghosts from your past
Feel so real?
Why are you so afraid
To take off your jacket,
Or wear your hair down?
I understand
That the walls came crashing in
And that you feel
Like everyone can stare right into you
And that they're staring at you
But they're not!
You're letting fear
Cloud logic
And judgement
And that's not you!
So dear Self,
Step away from the edge

When it comes to the skills,
It all depends. Some days
I don’t even trust me Pen.
Next days, it’s my friend.
Captures thoughts, so
vivid. Calms me when
I'm livid. Recording
What we living. The
Present and past is given.
The rest is written.

London,
Beating heart of England,
Charismatic time-capsule thrumming to its own rhythm,
History looming, akin to massive waves splashing down,
Drenching all, the unwary, the scholar, soaking it up,
Savouring every scintillating droplet, blissful, hopeful,
Weaving through lives, changing with every moment,
Variety of race and creed, intermingling, jostling, noticing,
Sharing sight, sound, colour, scents, smiles and frowns,
Pulsing soul of people, thriving and alive, buzzing with spirit,
In Camden, easy-going, a friendly riot of textured-hazy-peace,
Artful structures of Belgravia, magnolia temples of affluence,
Lauding architectural finery while mere mortals pass through,
Mind swinging through centuries, flowing along the river artery,
Bridges carrying us home, keeping their own dark secrets,
Cranes rising high, creating modern palaces, new beginnings,
Old lives wreathed in the foggy past of legendry deeds,
Embellished beyond reality, ghosts crying out, warning,
We can never own this city, never know this city, not really,
Guardian dragon allows us entrance, pours herself upon us,
Takes our love, progresses while we observe,
All left behind, knowing, feeling, sensing,
We are but shadows in her Light,
Dust on her famous streets,
Blessed to know her,
To breathe her,
Love her,
London.

©Paul Chafer 2014