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Chris Neilson Dec 2018
In the gloom of a late December afternoon
I said goodbye to the Hello Poetry platform
to reach my decision I walked in the rain
meandering, not dancing before the storm

It's been good to me like a trusted friend
testing my wares on the poetic masses
my building blocks towards performance
staying out front denying back stage passes

Poor health has lit a diagonal path
towards an uncertain futuristic notion
that my need for validation lies within
not likes, loves and trends the emollient lotion

My HP profile had dimmed as I spent time way
like an unwatered flower it withered and passed
good luck to you all, be kind and generous of spirit
to support others, be the first not the last
To whomever reads this, I wish you good thing s in all you do.
Chris Neilson Dec 2018
A  friend of a friend is now my friend
befriended to me to the very end
she always has an ear to lend
especially to me who's on the mend
placating anxiety to which I tend
many minutes with her I love to spend
her hand of friendship there to extend
she runs a cafe which I do commend
competitive pricing prevents overspend
moist scones with strawberry jam I recommend
making weekends existentially transcend
to be fake cousins we sometimes pretend
for a meeting place she's a godsend
when I feel my life descends towards a dead end
she wends my spirits to relentlessly ascend
her recipe for life has the perfect blend
now do the right thing and make this trend!
I'm only codding ya with the last line.
Chris Neilson Nov 2018
I'm a clean healthy living bloke
I don't drink and I don't smoke
consuming my quota of 5 a day
fruit and veg are here to stay

I've got serious health issues you see
I've been unwell, between you and me
but I still play the hand I'm dealt
whether standing, sitting or even knelt

No woe is me or sympathy sought
against many misfortunes I've fought
I owe it to those who love me dearly
cheerily supportive when I'm weary

They suggest I write in a rhyming style
to lift the reader and let them smile
life's departure lounge has many exits
don't leave them still talking about brexit
Chris Neilson Nov 2018
You don't look you see
you don't listen you hear shells
a no man's land death
The first 2 lines are from interview footage I saw today from a WW1 British soldier filmed in the early 1960s. This would be the same for all nationalities who lost their lives in the horrific European trench warfare from 1914-1918.
Chris Neilson Nov 2018
He's a manchild
it's in the vulnerability of his eyes
emotional with a low pain threshold
driven by an empathy that never dies

He's an adult boy
sensitive to criticism of any kind
a beautiful immaturity all too real
an inflammatory flawed life set on rewind

He's a grown up infant
needs protection, gullible and prone
needs daily comfort from life's travesties
never more distressed than when all alone

Where will it end with these traits of character?
an assertive struggle with meek and mild
best left to his own devices, after all
He's a manchild
Chris Neilson Oct 2018
Work; unable to accept
intermittent teasing texts of temptation
in a gross gig economy
sick notes but no sick pay
in a universally dis-credited world

Limbo; a place no one should go
or find themselves in
a prematurely ageing body
fighting against the rising tide
of the ravages of time
an existential mind distortion
of how to live the healthy life
that's gone before
for the future ever after

Future; if only we knew
the present could be ridden
like an untamed horse
across a river of destiny
where flows turbulent but cleansing water
to an opposing land of opportunity
where the past need not shape what happens next

Re-invention; a cure for all ills
A transitional period in my life after a life changing event
Chris Neilson Oct 2018
I gaze at a photo
of the 3 years old me
blond hair with an uneven fringe
blue eyes twinkling
at the freshness of this nascent life
a slight gap at the top of my baby teeth
showing through a natural gentle smile
a knitted jumper of a maroon shade
over a buttoned up white shirt

This could be an airbrushed cover boy
such is the perfection of this angelic child
but the year is 1970 with limited technology
the photographer an uncle or an aunt
just another kid in a growing family

I've seen photos of Kurt Cobain at the same age
we were born only 3 days apart
the resemblance to me is striking
he born in the rainy north west of the USA
my birth in the rainy north west of England
both with Irish heritage
both part of generation X
both from humble backgrounds
both journeys poles apart

Only death parted my parents
I had a settled loving upbringing
I never learned to play a musical instrument
I never joined a band
I never sold millions of albums
I never had a stomach complaint
I never fell to the temptations of narcotics
I never married Courtney Love
I was never the voice of our generation
I never made the ultimate catastrophic decision

But I did listen to that voice
I did listen to the angry, confessional lyrics
I bought those albums
they still spoke to me
I still listen to them now
I'm alive and still here in my 50s

I don't have much money
I've never had fame
that ship sailed without me
that ship sails stormy waters
that ship hits icebergs
that ship can sink

I give thanks every day for what I have
cash poor
love rich
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