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i'm sick to death of this stinking routine
perpetual day time TV,
petty bickering
afternoon pub binges
hopeless job hunting morons everywhere,
i return to my hometown
to the place i was made, molded
and it suffocates me like never before
i think of the many reasons i left
they circle my thoughts for a long while
and then i'm left with one
one that overrides the lot
it takes a while to spit it out
because it's corny, it's stupid, it's not how we work
it's love
and the lack of it
the love here is in the mundane
the easy,
the norm.
it's not in the heart
the love around here lies in
television sets
and pirate DVDs
reduced chicken and new coffee machines
gambles on abused horses
saturday afternoons in the local
cheap holidays to Benidorm
a day trip to lidl
a weekday evening watching the soaps
a phonecall to a family member you don't care about
hours playing candy crush
the love has lost on us humans
the love here, it was lost on me too
it missed me out
they missed me out
it has instead transferred in this
reality tv, selfie indulgent zeitgeist
it has left our silly bodies
and i'm still clinging on
trying to dissapear from that
new century bubble
trying to pick up pieces
of that porcelain mosaic
that old style bric a brac
so long ago forgotten
pressure is everywhere
notifications beep
this tiny block of perspex
waiting to be touched
waiting to be in communication
with someone at the other side of the city
the other side of the world
oh what a sad existence
when all we love is through the inanimate
and not ourselves
but hey thats the way of the world
and we have to accept it
or hate it
because we can't do both
we have to accept our fast paced tumultuous society
always moving through space and time
at times, difficult
but consumerism, capitalism and cronyism
it all exists in this big society
this 'we're all in it together' society
and it cant be ignored.
Feeling a little sad about the way the world work sometimes. I felt it needed documented.
Your scars mean nothing to me
Your scars are in your head
Your scars are what consume you
Darling don't let them consume you
for there are greater things to worry about
than your imperfections
For your imperfections are the reason
I picked you
Your perfections are amongst the imperfections
even though you can't see past the imperfections
we can
The world can
I can
The head is a dangerous place
Don't let it hate you
For you are the stars, the constellations in my sky
You are the beauty I see every day
You are the sun rising every morning
and the moon ascending at night
You are the reason I smile
The reason I laugh
You are the universe in my little world
You are everything
that your imperfections are not.
I wrote this poem about something I love. Someone that doesn't love themself as much as I would love them to. I wish you could just see what everyone else can see.
Winter has arrived in my soul.
Back for another year.
I became still for a whole day.
Wondering what to do.
Wondering what to say.
It creeps slowly into every crack.
My mind it's victim.
Simple things, not so simple anymore.
I open the door to leave.
That winter crisp hits.
Voices of fun,
Voices of warmth engulf
They only create a blanket.
Nothing can get in here,
it's too strong, this feeling.
I walk through crowded streets
As cold as the new winter air
This old familiar feeling back again
I didn't appreciate serotonin until now
Oh what I'd do to have it all back.
This old enemy is destroying me.
It's corrupting my thoughts.
I sit like a crumb to the earth, a tiny
speckle of air
Oxygen guzzling human
Someone eat me, give me purpose.
Take this left over and give it a point.
Silence on a saturday evening, peculiar for me.
The only life going on is outside my window.
Car radios blasting the latest chart
Getting ready for a night on the town.
The life is usually inside of me.
Not tonight.
This is a different Saturday night.
Tonight the demon returned.
Four months it will stay.
Take it away, far far away.
I feel see-through like a pane of glass
Waiting to be smashed
Check if there's something inside, please.
The glass is still, it doesn't move.
It's delicate, transparent.
The glass is prettier than me. By far.
I am so still.
Staring at the candlelight.
This Saturday feels so wrong.
There's colour all around me
yet I'm so black and white
I want all the colours of the world to
jump inside me and hold me tight.
I want them to stay and never
let go.
I want to feel everything possible,
in the most beautiful of ways.
Smash the glass, enter my soul
Let it rise from the pits of despair
From this sea of melancholy
Let it erase my troubles and dark wonders
And let it burn bright
And most crucially
Let these flames burn forever,
Forever to ignite
I wrote this on 10th October 2015, the day my Seasonal Affective Disorder arrived. I felt terrible. It came with the cold air and dark night. I felt like this was the most important poem I wrote. Mental illness can be one of the hardest things to conquer but writing this poem helped me through it, almost like solace.
It's funny how there are so many beautiful people around us that we want to know
That we want to enter our lives
To give them a tiny piece of us
And for them to return that favour
We're funny little aliens
On an old rock
Waiting to love and be loved
Looking at the human race and beyond
To feel content in ourselves
To make others feel content
All of this for a brief moment
A brief moment we call 'time'
Whether that a few weeks, months, three years
And if you're the lucky one
a life time.
Tiny poem about love.
From a distance he was just another guy
As he approached, his face familiar.
He treaded through the grass unashamedly.
I looked at him
He at me.
We knew.
No longer part of the fun we once had
A two second glance
Not even awkward. We knew.
He looked ahead and forgot about me
like those many moons ago
We have departed one and others lives
Thought the memories crisp like
an old photograph
There are many. They still exist
in my head
Though I barely look because it hurts.
It hurts that humans are temporary
In every sense of the word
We hate each other now, like bitter old lovers
We weren't. It wasn't love.
We were friends
We partied. We danced. We sang.
All of this enveloped by naivety
Youth brought us together
And it also tore us apart
I hold no regrets
For a learned a lot.
About myself, but also others
Most importantly,
the frailty of friendship
The passing of time
The innocence of youth
I learnt in that moment,
People come and go
And often they chose when to enter
Whether it be bad or good
It is a lesson to us all, to just live a little
Care less
Love more
Never forget
the past
for it made us.
Sitting in Kelvingrove Park when I noticed someone I once knew and partied with.  It brought up a whole load of memories which made me reflect about life and the frailty of friendship.
Standing on Buchannan trying to write a line
Listening to my favourite person 'shine'
Friday night friends doing all sorts of lines
That irresponsible drug scene just isn't mines
Never know, one day it won't be 'fine'
Especially when your putting your life up for grabs
It's slowly approaching quarter to nine
Someone pass me the ****** wine
The thought of alcohol is surely a sign
That I'm alive, the future will be absolutely fine
Looking back, I wish I'd done that ****** line!
Standing outside Buchanan Galleries, it's raining and I thought I'd write my first comical poem, playing with 'ine' words. It's not deep, it's not good it's just purely experimental. The poem is inspired by parties that I've been to that I never really enjoyed.
The one friend I had has just been stabbed
Over something meaningless, petty and sad.
A life has just gone to waste
It has left the earth with all other than grace
What possesses one to commit such a heinous crime?
What choice, what idea, what thought will force this
man to do time?
I stare at the spot with a tear in my eye
Why is it you of all people that had to die?
My best friend, my brother, my partner in crime
I will always remember you, and I'll think about
all the time.
Silly, simplistic little poem based on a BBC Documentary about police officers. On this particular story, the police were responding to an incident where a 17 year old boy had just been stabbed 7 times. They resuscitated him but he later died.
I tried to put myself in the shoes of his friends who are screaming "I just want to see him".
P.s I've just stopped crying.
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