Evening approaches silently
The cold easterly wind bites
My face feels like ice, frozen
Snow is falling three counties away
It may reach me, it holds some comfort
Stomach knotted in depression
So so many many things beyond my control
Today was an effort, tomorrow will be more
One day soon I can see it unworthy of the effort
No tomorrow no more, no point
If you have never seen depressions face
Looked at its sallow eyes
it's gaunt expression looking back in the mirror
You my friend are lucky.
A silent killer
Slow
Un merciful
All consuming

Is hope an ideal
A place
Or a dream
Is love not it's root
That of ideals
The place a dream sits
Is despair the loss of hope
Not love uprooted
It's dreams expired
Then what of life
To live we need both hope,
Lest we forget our dreams
We need love to dispel despair
Are these ideals
Or simply life's truths

I have seen love
I have felt its tremulous
I have lost love
I have felt its void
I have yearned for love
I have known its command
I have envied love
I have been left cold
I have needed love
I have been left wanting
I have no love
I walked away
I alone

She sleeps, motionless
Only breath,
Her breath In the night moves her form
She has an alabaster like serenity of soul
Innocent as she sleeps
Yet in her waking hours her form is that of seduction
She has a simplicity in motion that arouses the most controlled of men
Now
Do I wake her
Do I kiss her or embrace her sleeping form

I strain my eyes to see what is before me
Often focusing in and out, trying to gain detail
detail of what exactly.
I am simply an observer, no more no less
I have no stake in this reality.
I'm simply a passenger
You all scuttle past unseen, but there!
Never noticed, never challenged
Yet you spout opinion never fact, like hyenas
Await a head above the parapet
Shoot to **** !! They made a mistake
Vapid and insincere. Harbingers to a tee
**** your insincerity, **** you to hell
Let me see you bare your soul, give of yourself
No you cannot because you have no worth
No measure, no purpose
Feeding like carion on the bones of the living, loving,
Fighting for air
Yet you prey upon them still, worthless and bereft of a soul
One day you will be that, frail, trying hurting..
Then your kind will devour you.

The light glistening in his eyes as the salty tears ran from them
In that instant there was no more mask, just the face of a man
A man lost in the trials of life and without any compass or destination
A man like any other.

Held so tight like a child
String wrapped around fingers
A last anchor in the abys
Then let go
No change of position
Just loss
Deep marks cut into fingers
All thats left
Faded minuites later
Then
Nothing
No memory

I thought I'd seen a ghost
It was a mirror, and cruel
That can't be me I've grown so old
How did I change so fast?
Or was it slow and unnoticed
Answers a lot of questions
Raises to many more.

Waltzing with fire
watching the priest,
drop to his knees
and screams with a fear

A fear of all
he prays to a god,
for if he is caught
he won't have a job

Oh the tide rolls in
with crashing waves,
the Daily Express always says
"Prepare for the worst!"
or the
"Torys are great"

Well someones dog
**** outside my gate!
What to do
when it's all gone wrong?

Oh im Traped in the vesel
that I got at birth,
as age contorts
and changes its shape

Oh mistakes a plenty
and then somemore
as I made decisions
like a needy *****

Try and keep up
we march today!
Just where are we going
I couldn't say

Direction lost
and map on fire,
my souls ignited
by another's fire

Another who warms
at a different grate,
no wonder people run away

So waltz with fire
and quench the coals that burn
for loving only makes you cold

Cold in spirit,
cold in bed
and distorts all up inside my head

So what was that all about,
I say that daily and often shout!!
Wish I knew
I would share the plot,

but like my soul...
It all is lost.

Death came today but he was early.
Right address, right person, wrong date.
Oh I understand he has a job to do but my father's not ready for you.
So shoulder thy sythe and make good your exit, because dad's not ready for this journey!

There is nothing more heinous or gravid a crime than the death of the human soul and spirit killed by another, save for it being killed and the body left to roam this earth. ..

On the door the sign it says "Open mic" come in and listen if you like.

Get a drink and take a seat come listen to others things.
Songs galore, old and new.
If you want get up too.

But no you *** you want to heckle and berate someone, oh your special.

So special you came straight from the gym, didn't shower and you stink

Your head is topped with a mersey **** oh I'm sorry it's your hair.

****** this and I'll do that, hot air from a skanks mouth

Well this morning I feel really good because last night I met you.

My life may never be the same in fact next week I'll come again.

If you open your foul scouse mouth, I'll get up and read this out!

I dreamt of clouds heavy with rain, whisps of heavy porcelain, suspended on wishes and heavy with tears.
I saw you upon them, darting from one to another carried by the wind, dancing like a wild spirit, untamed, free.
For a moment time was no issue as death had come, and gone.
You paused and gazed down upon me.
The smile held a lifetime of emotions then, goodbye and a tear fell into the now dark clouds and a crash of thunder crossed the sky.
The rain fell harder and harder as it masked the tears on my face.
Masked for no other to see, drenched to the skin, cold in solitude and heavy in heart.
I awoke my hair soaked from fever, only then did I know you had come to say goodbye.

I had so much I wanted too write.
My head bursting with so much thought, so many words, so much emotion.
I just can't organise the letters to make words that make sense.
Maybe they don't want to be written just yet.

Oh I'm running with scissors
Hell they're not even mine
I got no paper to cut
And I trip all the time

I've been rocking my chair
Back and forth on two legs
Trying to balance
And waiting for it to break

Climbing up trees
Scramble to hold on
Shaking with fear
afraid of the fall


On the highway playing chicken
******* the cars
Well A cat has nine lives
I got just one

I'm running barefoot with you
Along a ***** beach
Cut after cut
Now our feet bleed

Faster and faster
Here comes the bend
Hear the tyres
Squeeling again
Again again again
Again again again

All of the things
That I shouldn't have done
Now I'm to old
My mad days are gone

A collection of elements
Mostly harmless
Bonded together in molecules and strings
Making muscles and bones and other things
Mostly water and fresh air
But none the less I'm still here
You may say you know me
You speak of my form
You really don't know me
For I'm only a shell

I can't love.
I can write of it.
I imagine it.
I dream of it.
I cannot do it.
It wasn't taken
It did not leave
I expelled it
I did it myself
I
alone

Some say we have lived our lives many times before
Each life another opportunity
They believe a soul mate criss crosses our path
And that said we miss each other
If I have spent my lives looking for you
Have you been looking for me?
Are we the same age?
Have I missed you?
Are you in a foriegn land?
Or have you moved into the next life?

Broken glass and tightrope walks
Whispers in my own home
Trying to keep out of the way
Fear an explosion each and every day

The way things ended up
Have no resemblances of love
Living a lie is like being dead
Who said zombies don't exist

So if this is you and you see yourself
Living alone with someone else
Existing isn't a life
As each day you die more inside

Take the reigns and make a stand!
Cut the rope and smash the ice
Go outside and scream so loud
Let the world know your back

Find the you, you lost or hid
I promise you, you can, you will
Live and love and don't exist
Be the you that we all missed.

Sometimes vulnerability comes through in a person's character as strength or determination to succeed.
All to often it becomes the portrayal of weaknesses and past failures.
Yet in a minority it shapes them, it gives life to their dreams and ideas.
It's easy to sit back and say it's "destiny" but are we the victims or the stewards of it?

They say if a writter falls in love with you they will forever show it in their words.
What if you fall into the heart of a writter?
Do you tumble falling from word to word as the lexicon of their being shrouds you?
Or do you become like two stars colliding?

For what one admires and respects in the events that lead a soul to a point in time and space, is all we have of them.
A signature of sorts,
their comets tail in the universe.

From that point all that we do entwines in each others script.
I had never thought of life as a script, written daily with characters passing in and out of the storyline.
But it seems true!

If you look at it that way it is simple.
The question is...
Will a character be given a leading roll next to the star.
Or simply a walk in part for a few episodes.
Who knows
Only
The writter.

We are all that is made from the words of others and the emotions they give, or take.
The building blocks or rubble of our very fabric, and all that separates growth from decay can be just a word, one single word.
Growth can be slow and nurtured by another, but decay, oh decay can be swift and destroy so much in an instant.
There comes a time when we begin to build a wall rather than build ourselves.
It gets higher around us until it shuts out all the world
Then we die within our own prison
Built from bricks made with the words of others

Layer by layer like peeling skins
The crisp outer layers
Moving beyond to the softer flesh
White not brown, moist not dry
Only this will make you cry
But I think love and emotion is just the same
Layer upon layer, the deeper we get
The more the tears
The more it hurts

All I could hear was my heartbeat deafening in my ear as I lay upon the pillow and held back the tears.
A thousand thoughts all mixed up, not one made any sense and you just sit there staring, at me in my bed.
You're always there, never far and a plague upon my life.
Whenever things are bad you make them worse at night.
Never wanted always here, oh where did you come from. The cursed black dog !
BE GONE! BE GONE! BE GONE!

A child wishes to be older
A teenager tries to be grown up
An adult tries to stay youthful
The old ?
They just pray to stay

There is still magic to be done
But not by this magician
Maybe it holds true
For I think some,
Magicians that is,
Are mere illusionists

Over the rainbow or somewhere else
A play upon words for my personal thoughts.
Was Kubla Khans ******* a work or a fact? It took Coleridge decades to work that out.
If Kipling thought "When" would it be lesser a work? If would be nothing, there's satire there.
If Poe wrote of seagulls and the Raven was missed, would a dream be a nightmare in his words instead?
So had Yeats not the heavens embroided cloths but instead the curtains from his grandma's cottage, would he have laid them down under her feet? Or wrapped them around her to keep her sweet.
Is there nothing in words that hasn't been said?
Who knows now, who cares I guess.

Not now the voices say
I wish to god they would go away
Talk don't shout!
If you were real I'd throw you out
But no! Now you witter on
No peace for me to fall asleep
Don't speak like that or I'll **** you
No I'll **** me
Sorted

What "if" as kipling said we are measured by actions
What if we saw a circumstance and reacted on our past endeavours
What should we react to?
Intuition, the gut feeling?
We react to neither.
We simply react
We have within us a code.
Programmed,
Amended,
Revised.
By experience
No more
No less
That is who we are

He always feared he would be never enough
If he lay beside her in fear of love

Always believing one day she would have gone
Into the arms of another who offered her more

All that he thought and all that was there
were nothing but dreams of a life with her

Entangled lives with tremulous pasts interlaced in a web of lust

But lust is fleeting and isn't love
And dreams were all it ever was

Five drinks later and loose of lip
She outlined her desires
I'd chuck my knickers at you!
But I'd have to ring them out first!!!

Shameless and longing she needed him now
But our victim saw love in her eyes

To the room for her craving
For him all he desired
An hour later, both were satisfied

She left him her number
But please only texts
She had tasted honey
And would want it again

Hear it?
The white noise?
Lie awake, it's louder
Like leaves rustling in my ears
Or the constant tone?
Yeah you know!
The noise won't leave you alone

Two o'clock shadow at 8 am
Another late night, beer again
Eyes red dry and sore
Un ironed shirt from night before
Mind won't focus can't concentrate
Why did you drink again so late
Your body is drained and wearing out
Get some help your times run out

There are some dark dark places in my soul
Feel free to roam around once inside
View the scars left by others
The voids not yet filled
And lest we forget the wells of darkness
Take a light with you to find your way
You will need it, for I have no map

I looked inside my dark places
I walked miles by day
Further at night, in my mind
I saw faces of others
Twisted by lifes trials
Tear reddened cheeks
Broken smiles
I had seen enough for any lifetime
Each day repeated
Like water dripping on a prisoner
Serving no purpose other than to becon insanity
But it was already here
Madness all around

When I woke today I was alone
Couldn't feel your warmth
Couldn't touch your skin with my fingertips
Nor kiss your face with my lips

Couldn't smell your scent as I made the bed
Nor touch your hair as you got dressed
No silhouette to make me smile
No clothes left for me to fold

I couldn't hear your voice at breakfast
Or the sound of your heels in the hall
Couldn't say goodbye and wish you well
Couldn't hug and squeeze you it's living hell

Because I am here and you are not
You've never been and thats our lot
So really nothing's changed from a month ago
So why do I feel like I am not whole?

Tonight again I shall got to sleep
Imagine you as you breathe
Stroke your hair and kiss your neck
Then hold you in a warm embrace

My life has changed in a way thats good
It isn't how I thought It would
A way that others may not get
Is it Love??
Let them guess
***

Sleep in dreams of laughter
Wrapped in velvet covers
Drapped with silk
Sleep in silence not fear

If today ends and tomorrow starts
Yesterday will be a memory of today
So if tomorrow and today are thus the same
They all become yesterday
Then is tomorrow today?
Or is yesterday tomorrow ?
So live for today
Dream of tomorrow
Enjoy yesterday's memories
But most importantly
Is the bar open?

Inner space?
Yes I pose the question
What is it?
Is it alone time
Is it loneliness
Is it simply the place we go to think
Or the place we go to hide
Its all our own whatever your answer
Mine Is mine to visit and your not welcome
You may have driven me there
Find your own.

That creak you didn't hear
That was breaking point
I mean why would any of you hear it
You see only a facade not the core
The molten thoughts and emotion
Turmoil like you can't imagine
Yet you all dined and enjoyed the company
You couldn't know could you
I was tiptoe all weekend on the edge
Closer to it than I have been in a long time
Overloaded, all wanting a piece of me
None realising I'm running on empty
Empty other than dark thoughts
Then finally sleep came and solace
But no, for even dreams became nightmare
Screaming skulls and torture I begged for death
Only to wake to ***** shaking in fear
Unhinged and unable to face the day I retreated
Beneath the quilt, a world away for a day
Irony! The world did not notice oh no
The messages, calls none phased at my absence
Save for one. One who always knows when the black dog is afoot.
Seems to know to call
Knows how I don't know

I sat and watched her with her new bucket and *****
In her mind building a fairy palace
Adorned with cocked shells
The walls around it to keep the ocean at bay
Then feathers collected placed as flags upon its towers
A day I'll remember a lifetime

One in a cast of millions
One that was a little more
One that held the info
One that knocked at the door
One that wasn't wasted
One that wasn't killed
One that wasn't spat
One that wasn't swallowed
One tonsils didn't pass
One that had a future
One boy or a girl
One who was the strongest
One who made the grade
One spermatazoa
One is all it takes

Punctuated only by furr ***** and *****
Whats the point?
Eat sleep **** repeat
Can't play fetch or go for a walk
Claws to sharp and scratch the walls
Sit on your lap and dig in your *****
Sleeps all day,fights all night
Then ***** in a tray or in next doors flowers
Then gets lost an posters put up
Lost my **** it was a three day stud!
Then gets old and now wants to be friends
Till it pops it's cloggs and the kids are upset
Then it happens, weeks go by and you come home from work and a kittens arrived!!
The dogs gone nuts it's ******* it off
The wife and kids are going soft
Grab the lead and "I'll take the dog out!!"

Do the ends caress what's whithin?
A play upon words, a facade of what is beneath
The pages inside the book now seldom seen
Placed upon a shelf no longer to read
Or the reader did not understand the thread
The plot not to their taste or their perception hazed
Or picked up when in the mood pages turned then put down
Then cast aside unfinished
So what now of this book?
Do you open it's cover and look
Does the cover, it's front and back
Protect the story held inside
The photograph, the front of course the eye catches first or the spine with inviting words
The title that hides the tale inside, cries and smiles truth and lies
Hardback in a true disguise, more costly but often satisfies a weighty tombe a work of size
Holding the story tight, until the time is right
Or softback invitingly there to see
Oh please oh please open and look beneath
The cover so often is a pale facade
No relevance to what's within its charge
For the story may have no end or may need to be re written again
Each reader sees a different thing
The written words scribed as a life I yearn to know what's inside
Though many books are there to see
What is it you really want to read?
Is it the story of an open heart or a drama
Now closed by a reader far to harsh
The story of a persons life like Dickens forgotten bride
Or can it be read by others, when the time is right
A classic re visited late at night, giving the reader warmth and delight.
So reader choose your book with care for taste in books is a "soul"preserve