Remember not so long ago
when empires ruled the world
and thoughts of independence
led to new flags being unfurled

To be ruled by leaders far away
just simply wouldn't do
Leaders should be from the new world
if we're to make this new world new

And here we are two centuries on
after all that human cost
trying to rule the world
is the irony all lost

We talk of global government
common cash and world police
the very things we fought against
are now a way to peace?

But I guess things must look different
when you look down from the top
Lets remember our own history
and we'll know why they don't stop

Give power back to people
let each man choose his way
or just take the time to listen
to what he has to say

You'll see we put our homes first
our family and friends
and only when we've got that right
do we then start to extend

We don't bail out the millionaire
so he can keep his pool
and then turn round and tell our kids
there's no money left for school

The homeless starving
We walk past - heads turned away
A world invisible

The duality of man
torn tween the shadows and the light
can only gaze on one
while t'other's always out of sight

For he who looks upon the shadow
will have light upon his back
but chasing after darkness
fills a soul with naught but lack

And he who looks upon the light
casting shadows in his wake
will always see the brighter side
where exists more give than take

When I am gone, what thoughts of me
will pass 'mongst those left behind
Will I even be remembered
or was everyone 'round me blind

Will the words I have written
fall on deaf eyes and be forever lost
Or will I have connected with someone
with my tales of winter and frost

Or perhaps my name will be recalled
for a story of love gone awry
Did my words touch someone so deeply
that a tear welled up in their eye.

I write about things that go through my head
some based on me and some not
some moments in life I remember
some I wish I'd already forgot

But I also write words of pure fiction
make up stories to balance the tone
so no matter how life makes you feel
you will know you are never alone

Honestly though it matters not
if I live on in your hearts or your minds
as long as someone finds comfort
in the words I leave behind

One careful owner the ad would read
and to a point it would be true
I wouldn't mention the other six
who weren't as careful with me as you

Low mileage, well that might be so
but the chassis a little worn
and thank fully the brakes are good
but you can always blow the horn

Built for comfort, not for speed
sounds accurate to me
The upholstery's seen better days
for yourself you should come see

But if you feel like a test drive
pick up the phone and grab a pen
and we'll make a date the two of us
to get me on the road again.

I sit and watch the homeless
trying to comprehend
what life must really be like
at societies other end

I complain about my home
being too cold or being too hot
When I really should be thankful
For everything I've got

At night I get a proper bed
Three meals a day I eat
While they sleep in cardboard boxes
with newspapers for sheets

I take so much for granted
have way more than I need
In future I'll remember that,
and feed others, not my greed.

This poet had a dream
of a book with leather binding
going on a journey
along roads both far and winding

Other poets writing in that book
a page or two of verse
the dream became obsession
a small poetic curse

Then one day he saw a journal
the perfect little object
He picked it up and so began
The Community Poetry Project

If you want to share your poetry
then help us fill our net
sign up for one the projects
at cheaperthantherapy.net

I know you're worried bout your family name
and I understand I do
But will the name give consolation
to a life lived not for you?

Will they thank you for your misery
and the sacrifice you make
Will the name still give you comfort
when at night you lie awake

I never planned for this happen
truth is it took my by surprise
And now my love I'm petrified
that no more I'll see your eyes

For they will look up at another
someone else will you call Dear
all the time remembering
the days that we spent here

Do not tell me if you love me
or if your hearts like mine, unlocked
Simply come down to the harbour
board the steamer where she's docked

She sails upon the evening tide
gangways up at seven
If your hearts to run away with mine
come to cabin two eleven

And if duty is to keep you here
and you choose to play a part
remember there's always a place
for you inside my heart.

They line up at the kitchen
like they do most every day
half of them not knowing
how their lives turned out this way

They come from different places
no two stories are the same
but its safe to say that none of them
are winning at life's game

There's drinkers and drug takers
just trying to ease the pain
lining up for a hot a meal
not knowing when they'll eat again

Its not until you see all this
that your troubles seem so small
compared to these poor souls
I have no troubles at all

The first cut is not the deepest,
it is merely the first.
Without doubt in my experience,
the last cut was the worst.

What is this thing that comes to me
and tells me what to write
sometimes in the early morning
or in the middle of the night

It feeds me an idea
for an angle or a line
and then it flows right through me
as if its power were really mine

Sometimes it give's me noble thoughts
full of romance, love and trust.
Other times more physical
desire, *** and lust.

Yet again there are the angry ones
vile, bitterness and hatred.
Not always things I feel myself
so no hunger has been sated.

And other times its quiet
like the inspiration's left
and maybe for a day or two
of ideas I am bereft.

So what is this muse or genius
that creates and shapes these words you see
You would think that if it wrote this
it would at least tell me?

Communication
Leaves little room for mistakes
Unlike assumption

Sometimes I cannot find the words
and don't know how to say
the things my heart is feeling
about life that comes my way

I miss you more than I know I should
and that scares me a lot
But I don't know if I should tell you
of if its better I do not

And other times I want to tell
my friend who's in such pain
That they can call me night or day
to get shelter from the rain

But why is it, with an empty page
the words just tumble out
And yet when faced with people
I hide behind self doubt

But once you get know me
thats if you stick around
I will bare my very soul to you
like a plow rips up the ground

I sit and stare at an empty page
An actor in the middle of an empty stage
Nothing to say, no one to thank
My lines forgot, my mind gone blank

And the longer I stare the less I see
as if today naught will come from me
See my mind is cluttered with everyday stuff
Is the stove on, laundry done, the dryer de-fluffed?

I close my eyes to quiet my mind
Hoping some inspiration there to find
But alas none of the idea-fish have bitten
And all that I have is this page I have written

Waking up alone
Sleeping feels like such a waste
Better just to rest
Than dream of us together
And wake up disappointed

I've shut my tears away
in a well so deep inside
ne'er to see the light of day
my sadness for to hide

But I know that one day soon
this well will overflow
perhaps alone in darkened room
my pain it will not show

But I fear that once they start to flow
they will fall til the well runs dry
and thats not a place I want to go
without a loved one by my side

For years I've shut my tears away
now its time to let them go
and free myself along the way
as I feel them start to flow

What the hell is it I'm doing?
Why am I always so **** nice
I step aside and take a break
so others shan't sacrifice

But what about what I want
why does that never come first
I always end up losing out
so others don't feel worse

I guess I'm hoping one day
someone will do the same for me
but time is running out here folks
just whens that day supposed to be.

It seems without you here
my bed is twice the size
acres of extra blankets
now you're not by my side

Suddenly I've extra pillows
now you need not rest your head
despite never using yours
and sharing mine instead

And nights seem somehow longer
yet i get no rest from sleep
Though not totally without you
as into my dreams you creep

I wish my nights were not like this
and we shared a bed once more
waking in each others arms
all but one pillow on the floor

I appears I'm slowly dying
I just found out today
there's a cancer in my body
as I type it eats away

So now I'm kind of lost
I don't know what to say
All the words that dwelt within me
seem to have gone away

There's a death that lies within us all
we seldom get to see
so in a sense I'm lucky
to see the one that lies in me

So with the time that I have left
I don't know what to do
Should it now become all about me
and less about all of you

So there it is, my recent news
or sentence if you will
its seems that I have to swallow
the bitterest of pills

I have lived my life with no regrets
and there's been mistakes I've made
So I guess I'll see what happens next
when in the ground I'm laid.

I wonder what its like
to be a poet free of strife
could you even be a poet
with nothing gnawing at your life

If life was daffodils and butterflies
and you were happy with no doubts
could you turn that into poetry
would you have stuff to write about

I can see if life turned you around
you could write about your past
but what if life was always perfect
a total and utter blast?

Somehow I think you'd manage it
because no matter how great life looks
its not until you've lived their life
you see into every darkened nook

Because what seems so great to all without
is seldom that great inside
the obits are full of perfect lives
cut short by suicide.

Musically speaking
I'm just a single note
one of many squiggles
Johann Sebastien wrote

A note alone makes not a tune
A letter not a word
As part of some sweet melody
is where I should be heard

So put me with my brothers
arranged across the staff
A thing of beauty I become
Thanks to my masters craft

Finally I'm all caught up.
No more poems left to write.
A chance to fill my coffee cup,
and maybe grab a bite.

It is with time our wisdom grows,
It is with time our sorrow goes,
It is with time our hope ascends,
It is with time our hearts will mend.

What does silence sound like,
does it even exist anymore?
In these days of everything electric,
with their tiny little hums,
and the sound of noise pollution,
everywhere you go.

Is there a place left nearby,
or anywhere on this earth;
Where it's so quiet you can hear the breeze;
Where it's so quiet you can hear the dew,
pool on grassy stalks and trickle down into the soil;
Where it's so quiet the very sound of your,
own breathing seems like an intrusion;
Where it's so quiet that you can hear everything, and yet nothing.

If such a place does exist,
it's only because we haven't found it yet.

Is there a pill that I can take,
to forget the times we share?
Those perfect moments memorised
now fill me with despair.

Each day I spend without you
fills me with more pain
This aching void inside my chest
yearns to be full again

To see your face and kiss your lips
to taste you just once more
Without any of these riches
my life is empty, I am poor.

Until such time as you can stay
and we no longer have to part
a pill to help forget those times
would ease my aching heart.

If you write little poems
ones that rhyme but aren't too long
You may be just about perfect
for tweetablepoems.com

Sounds of loneliness
Stay trapped within these grey walls
Outside lives go on

I used to be consumed,
full of bitterness and rage,
because they seemed such fitting parts,
to play upon this stage.

I blamed you for so many things,
in life that had gone wrong.
As if I was not responsible,
for my actions all along.

And though I have to take the blame,
for the mistakes that I made.
My refusal to just let things go,
cast a very ugly shade.

The pain and disappointment,
followed me where ere I roamed.
But these demons were not exorcised,
and misery became my home.

I was trapped within the anger,
that I let the whole world see,
until the day that I forgave you,
only then was I set free.

Choosing words so carefully,
constructing a rhyme for you to see.
Trying to keep it short and sweet,
to become a poem that you can tweet.

Where did all the trees go Dad?
    Why son we cut them down,
    milled them into two by fours,
    used them to build the town.

    And what we didn't build with,
    we burned upon the stove.
    See we never thought we could,
    use up this treasure trove.

    Once, we started planting,
    a tree for each cut down,
    but then we ploughed them under,
    to make room for a bigger town.

    And then all of a sudden,
    (at least thats how it seemed),
    we had so many people,
    more than we ever dreamed.
  
    We had nothing left to build with,
    and nowhere to grow food.
    So people started moving out,
    in a less than happy mood.

    With everyone so angry,
    at all that was so wrong,
    they raised their voice in protest,
    at marches and in song.

    But nobody could help us,
    cos in our hour of need,
    we'd consumed or sold off everything,
    to satisfy our greed.

    We wanted it all now,
    didn't want to look ahead,
    so in answer to you question son,
    all the trees, like us, are dead.

Work, eat, sleep, death.
Is that what it’s all about?
Just treading water every day.
Counting breaths til time runs out.

Life, laugh, love, live.
Accepting and forgiving.
Isn’t that the way that life should be?
Not spectating but really living.

Is it really worth the anguish
is it really worth the pain
is it really worth the effort
just to end up here again?

Is it something that I do
Is it something that I say
Is it something else I could have done
That keeps me ending up this way

The only thing I truly want
is a love I've never known
but it seems it is my lot in life
to end up here alone

In the dark she sits alone and waits,
Wondering if tonight,
Will be a night like all the rest,
That ends up in a fight.

So many times she's got it wrong,
And felt the sudden sting,
Of his left hand across her face,
Punctuated by that ring.

Is it her fault, did she do wrong,
Not knowing what to think,
She tries in vain to keep the peace,
Is it him or just the drink.

What happened to the man she loved,
To whom she gave her life,
That makes him think he has the right,
To do this to his wife.

In the dark she sat for one last time,
Determined that no more,
Would he lay his hands upon her so,
And claim she is a *****.

For when his arm was raised up high,
And anger filed his eyes,
She took her chance and put an end,
To his hatred and his lies.

Alone she sits now in the dark,
Reflecting on her life,
And how the cell that now is home,
Was delivered by that knife.

But in time she knows she will be free,
And hopes and dreams and prays,
That waiting on the other side,
A life without those days.

Is it best to fight the fight and lose
or walk away intact
Is there victory in battles lost
just because you chose to act

Is it possible to lose something
that you know you cannot win
'Cause when it comes to you and me
that's just the place I'm in

There's so many things I want to say
but I'm sure you don't want to hear
And that alone is all it takes
to have me paralyzed in fear

Your smile's enough to light my day
when everything else is dark
You came in and blew my world away
with a tiny little spark

All of this I'd say to you
if I thought there were a chance
That we would take each others hand
and so begin to dance

But I don't know if there is music
I hear no singer and no band
And I'm scared to death of standing there
alone with my outstretched hand

Maybe you'll happen cross this page
and read what I had to say
And on that day I guess we'll let
the chips fall where they may.

What a gift you are to me.
My sweet and steaming cup of tea.
It is with you I start each day.
There really is no better way.

Thirty plus degrees
Humidex is off the scale
Too hot to look cool

Will they come for me again today
for once I hope they do
for this lil kid has had enough
it's time for them to lose

For three long years they made my life
a living misery
I don't even know what I did
to make them pick on me

Every chance they got they picked on me
they beat me, called me names
Made fun of me 'fore everyone
made me feel ashamed.

So I'm not tall, and I aint big
does that give them the right
To lash me with their words of hate
or ****** me in a fight

Well todays the day I've had enough
time to end their fun
Lets see how big and brave they are
when they see my daddy's gun

So when they came for me again
I was gonna scare em good
I just wanted to be left alone
Din't want to spill no blood

But you know what I aint sorry
cos for years my lifes been hell
is it really gonna be much different
living in a cell?

You ever feel lost?
Like you don't know which ways up?
Forget about half empty,
you can't even find your cup!

Where you had such clarity,
now everything's a haze,
and far from feeling human,
you're a rat trapped in a maze.

Where once you had such certainty,
now everything you doubt.
You had the world in your hand,
and now there's no way out.

What happens to us in our lives,
that causes things to crack?
But perhaps a better question is,
"How do we get it back"?

Too short flowers bloom
Too brief their scent fills the air
Too late we notice

Its never seemed like "My Turn".
Do you know just what I mean?
Life's never really been that good,
at best its in between.

Its seems like one thing, or another,
is always going wrong.
And to be with you quite honest,
I'm getting tired of THAT song.

Now there was a while, some months ago,
when my dreams seemed within reach.
But somehow things went off the boil,
thats why they say life is a... beach ;-)

Then someone told me bout a secret,
how to make my dreams come true.
About believing that its possible,
so this I'm gonna share with you.

You see life is what you make it,
and all you have to do,
is to see your dreams, as if they're real,
then they will all come true.

But if you give up dreaming,
and expect to live life on your ***,
then that becomes your dream,
and that too will come to pass.

So finally I stopped asking,
"When does my turn come way?"
because the answers "When I want it to",
so my turn starts today.

Waiting always waiting
for something to arrive
or someone to turn up
and prove that I'm alive

Suspended animation
neither here and neither there
a spectator on display
watching people stare

I take the form of who looks in
no matter age or *** or class
You think that its yourself you see
and not the spirit of the glass

when will mankind learn
theres a bell that always rings
to warn us of the changes
it is the cycle of things

we eradicate a pest
and it food source multiplies
its a shame in all our wisdom
we missed that with our eyes

so one problem gets replaced
with one caused by other things
you'd think by now we'd recognise
it is the cycle of things

I cannot make you love me
though there's nothing I want more
And I'm scared my hearts gonna end up
lying bleeding on the floor

You see there's much I have to say
so much I want for you to know
but to lay my very soul out...
is that somewhere I want to go?

And perhaps that fear of exposure
should be sign enough itself
that we're not on the same page
or even sharing the same shelf

So tell me now, what should I do
should I speak up or hold my tongue
is it better to have lost in love
than never been undone

Why do we speak in riddles?
We do it all the time.
Why insist on making people,
read between the lines?

Would it really be so bad,
if we just said it straight?
Perhaps the one we'd say it to,
is unsure whether to wait.

Is it the fear of rejection,
that makes us all so coy?
When did it get so difficult,
for a girl to tell the boy?

Is it just as hard for them,
to tell us how they feel,
as it is for us to work out,
what is hope and what is real?

Well the world will end tomorrow,
so is there something you wanna say?
Because it's better late than never,
and at least we'll have today.

When I close my eyes at night
its not darkness that I see
but your smiling eyes and beauty
looking back at me

And when I breathe in deeply
it's not the air that I inhale
but the essence of what is you my love
always fresh and never stale

And when I'm seeking warmth
not for a blanket do I reach
instead I simply close my eyes
and go back with you to our beach

And when my heart is heavy
as it gets once in a while
I wrap myself in memories
of each time you've made me smile

You come to me in so many ways
when I'm happy, when I'm in pain
One you'll come and choose to stay
and never leave again.

They say that poetry is dead
although I'm not sure who "they" be
because I'm sat here writing it
so it aint dead to me

They say that poetry is lame
all romantic fluff and crap
but can you woo fair maidens
with a line from Andy Capp?

They say that poets all die poor
cash poor? that may be true.
but there's other kinds of riches
I receive when I reach you

See its not about the money
although more would be nice
It's all about connecting
and making you think twice

So poets, like their poetry
are neither lame nor dead
and if you dont believe me
just look back at what you've read

Sometimes the words come easily
sometimes they make me choke
sometimes they bring back memories
of the lies you spoke

Sometimes the memories make me smile
Sometimes they make me cry
Sometimes they take me back to when
I caught you in that lie

Sometimes I find I exorcise
the demons from within
and other times those once cast out
can find a way back in

So I will just keep writing
and hope to find one day
that all memories of you are gone
and my pain taken away

I think I'll have a dinner party
and I'll invite myself
to see what it is that others see
maybe that will help

I mean I look into the mirror
and I see me looking back
and sometimes in my head
myself and I we have a chat

But thats really not the same
there really is no doubt
that what I see in my reflection
is not what you see from without

So I thought that we could sit down
over dinner me and I
And get to know me better
as if through someone elses eye

Well the invitations been extended
and I provisionally accept
but you'll have to read the sequel
to see what happens next....

I wake up late
pull on my pants
no focus to my thoughts
pull up my fly
and start to cry
if only I'd put on shorts!

If you look for me 'mongst the headstones
I wont be hard to find
A simple cross will mark my spot
for those I left behind.

The simple cross is carved upon
and ancient piece of Oak
along with a simple message
that contains these words I spoke

"Shed not for me a single tear,
feel no sorrow for me,
for I shared my life with many trials,
now finally I'm free.

and do not mourn my passing,
from this world to beyond,
for as long as you remember me,
I will ne'er be truly gone."