Concepts pulling,
Fatiguing, stealing my breath
My concentration fading,
And falling off a cliff,
To end me.

Breaths screeching and trembling
As my legs shake and mind drives in
Confused circles around what I need to
Convey with some degree of
Beauty but inside all is
Screaming and strange and over-analysing
Every hair of their eyebrows.

I have neglected my passion
For too long now,
Leaving in its place
Promises and deadlines
Which I never met,
Along with all the stress,
Chaos and energy that
Needed an outlet
In the form of some black pixels
On a screen curving themselves
Into stories, patterns, thoughts,
Dreams, hopes, rants and love tokens.
So now I return,
As a potter to the wheel
Or a pilot to the stick.
And from my rest I have
Gathered up swirls of madness
Anger and fear and
Mixed them with hope
Until they have some kind of
Honest message.

Finally,
I have ticked enough boxes
To be called an 'Artist'
Which I think makes me
Less of one than when
I just wrote random words
On a page to see
What would happen.

This feud should never have been
Yet now it has taken over everything
And stands between us and stability
Like a wall we couldn't afford to build
But did anyway.

This hatred has no base but in his
Jealousy and frustrated lashing-outs
Against whoever it was that ruined
His chances (Apart from him,
Who is not to blame)

'There is still time' I
Tell myself again just to
Excuse my failure

A CD is as good a bat as any
But nothing beats the kayak paddle
Or the one-hit-wonder bicycle helmet
That decimated the feather duster.

Sky blue is
A gradient from pale to
Deeper tones
That save us from
Staring at eternity
All day.

Honest lyrics work
Much better than shallow lies
Put to melody

Free-roaming means data is off,
Eyes are up and headphones drop
Take a breath, taste the air
Take a step, no need to stare -
No shock, no bait,
No status update,
No followers to feed
No limits, no need
To restrict yourself to one-hundred-and-forty
Characters that aren't quite you,
No, for once, feel it all in one go
Not in a ten-second video,
First-hand experience is better
Than cutting down ur lettrs
Time to rediscover the world,
Through the highest definition
Four-dimensional,
Multi-sensational,
Live-stream of consciousness:
Reality.

Freedom is only as good as the people you share it with

Throat closing as we
Join the
Motorway
Vision blurring
Losing feeling
Oxygen blocked
Panic growing
But lost
Caring
Too much
Going through
My brain
But too
Slow
To understand

The steady click of a pen
Punctuates the drone of
A teacher who thinks she gets us but
Loses our interest and focus until
We realise we don't understand because
We were too busy clicking our pens and
Writing poems.