Enough romantic poetic questions.
This is the time for answers.

Strength,
the ability to endure
what we hate
without complaint

I know what it’s like my friend, being at your wits end.
You think nobody cares and who on earth would understand?
Your life may have imploded, crashed down around your ears.
Nothing left to do but broil and multiply your fears.

I stepped off that rock and forced myself to take a different view,
I accepted those tears, fought back and stood up in full public view.
Now the world doesn’t seem so bad, life keeps moving on.
Talk or cry and scream at the sky. Demand it of yourself.

It matters not if you’re getting divorced or you have ill health,
Your problems are very much your own and they say that life Is wealth.
Tell you what, I’ll trade you. A day in my life for yours?
We’ll both go running back again and take what we know is ours.

Don’t let the demons in your head move in and take you over.
There’s no point in trying to run away, there is no clear, safe cover.
Let the demons out I say, say Hi and take command.
Then banish them from your life for good because YOU are their power.

Monday morning isn’t blue, it’s white.
The little white pill on my desk,
Mocking me; take me, spit me out, who cares.
My senses are dull, my thoughts slow,
This is before the pill kicks in.
Miserable existence, but not the end.
We fight on, this is just imbalance,
It’ll pass, support is there.
If I ever learn how to ask.

The silence hits harder than a punch,
Yet time flies by.
But oh so slow when words, once so easy,
become lodged in the deep well of insecurity and defiance.
The dichotomy a crescendo with each silent passing hour.
The fire's smoke, now whimpering tendrils, flit out as if caught in a breeze.
But the air is still, the storm is only raging in my unsettled mind,
And the next farewell may become another Eulogy to love lost.

I find beauty in many places,
Seldom in others’ faces.

The thought train has left the tracks,
Derailed by inattention.

That simple fleeting touch of skin on skin,
Heaven itself

I took my glasses off to see clearer.
No dice.

Why does my poetry ****,
When life is good? Luck?

I scoffed at enlightenment,
Then it embraced my battered mind

Arise, go to work,
Best shoes, clean shirt.
No boots, nice tie.
No tools, learned to lie.

Sales, sales for sale’s sake.
Why be a builder when you can be a snake?
Office, coffee, ***** looks and sneaks,
Hide from bosses between the breaks.

The weekly crush, looking back, taking measure.
Silent heartbreak from a dismissive gesture.
Nothing lost and nothing gained.
Gimme a shovel, this work’s a pain.

Work? What work? Sitting typing?
Listening to clients always griping.
It’s my fault, they say, for telling the wrong lies.
A P45 and no goodbyes.

I lied to them but never to you,
What? You’re leaving me? Bully for you.
I’ll stay here, make lots of cash.
There’s nothing left but a square of hash.

Work? You work?
What’s that? Tell me!

At least I have my own brand of poetry.

Words and lines flowed into my mind last night,
On the precipice of sleep, delirium tremens in full flight,
The sweats, the wicked dreams and the ****** paranoia,
******* the heels of the previous night’s dreamless collapse,
Holding onto a sliver of reality as the impending dawn slams my head into the pillow.
Again and again, sleep, wake, sleep if you dare and awaken.
The beloved, accursed alcoholic frolic is taking its revenge.
A killing curse hurled at me from a mystery on horseback,
My heartbeat lost its rhythm at the edge of my sanity.
Then the unforgiving morning comes after a fitful, broken rest,
Fleeting memories of Epic, guilty ballads of Kings and sinners,
Of beautiful prose and perfect rhymes.
All lost to me, and the world because of my horrible, loving vice.

Light head carrying me forward on leaden feet.
Someone else’s body under my clothes today.
This lethargy and this ethereal pain, drags.
Drags me sweating out of sleep,
Drags my brain behind my body.
That smile that looks real on my face,
Still doesn’t touch my eyes.
I’m wearing it so long, who’d know?
Same thoughts turn over and over,
One more day becomes one more hour,
Celebrating pointless little victories.
Torturing me, wearing on me.
Killing me the hard way.
;

The finger points up at the stars,
And oftentimes the moon.
The finger wags in admonishment,
And beckons lovers to croon.
The finger points in the face of anger,
And soothes the hurts and burns.
The finger extends from the reapers sleeve,
And draws his clan to mourn.
Don't give the finger too much regard,
It will point at you, in turn.

He said, she said.
He lied, she cried.
But!
Then he cried because she lied.
Too many hard questions with no good answers.
But!
In the eye of the storm it's all blown away.
You can't shake hands with gloves on.

My mood is so low, I appeared on downdetector's site

I did that thing,
It was in my letter.
I said that stuff,
It’s all in my letter.
But,
You didn’t help me,
That is in the letter.
You didn’t listen,
That is in the letter.
But,
I didn’t cry,
That isn't in the letter.
I didn’t talk,
That isn't in the letter.

Life, ah sweet, beautiful life.
From the sunny days in happy company, joking, laughing, being thankful.
To the rainy days in grey misery, fighting against the wind.
The anxious wind that howls around my ears and bangs on the door of my psyche.
Begs me to let it in, coaxes me to move over and make room.
Sometimes I feel surrounded, it takes all my energy to hold the door.
So I lean my shoulder against the thin, weak portal to depression.
Praying to a God I don't hear to give me strength.
Today the sun is out, warming my skin,
But my bones are still cold.

After we talked, she walked.
I stood in silence until my pulse slowed.
I breathed again, could see again.
I made her do it, I wanted out.
Picking up the pieces is easier,
If you don’t get broken in the first place.

Concern turns to worry,
Worry to fear,
Fear to dread,
Dread to torment,
Torment in the mind is no less than others.

Then
others
become
concerned.

This cloying, repugnant, invisible disease.
For all these things, leaves it’s mark.
Indelible stains on the heart and mind.
Does it exist at all outside the minds of the afflicted?

Outside looking in, empathy abounds.
This empathy almost impossible unless you are infected.
Words of positive reassurance fall on the blocked ears.
Platitudes flow back from the infected mouth.

Advice and emotional contact mean nothing.
Even from the dearest of friends,
The best of intentions lead nowhere
But to guilt and pain.

I used to think I was broken,
I now know for sure that I am.
There’s not a power on earth to fix me.
Nobody gives a good God-****.
Around me is always darkness and I’m too far gone to fight.

I see nothing out there resembling hope,
No prayer, no words and no light.
The candle burned down and left naught but wick.
All I see is bridge, bottle or rope.
I hope there's someone looking out for me, because,
I’m too far gone to fight.

Light breaks through the dim day,
Raindrops sound like piano on the skylight window, today.
Lifting me, allowing possibility,
Suffering isn’t all there is. Today.

Piano yesterday was smashing, grinding,
Overbearing, oppressive & weighty.
It was a dry day within and without,
No rain to blame for the blackness.

Storm clouds gather and disperse only in my knowledge,
They’re unseen by many, understood by few,
Almost like a reminder that I’m not free.
Yesterday’s clouds were for me alone.

But today is a good day,
Weather without is bad but more bearable within.
This will pass, it has to.
Enlightenment is not only for the devout.
;

My slippery friend came knocking today.
Sensing my fear yet my unwillingness to yield gives him pause.
My mind is stronger, I am stronger.
Healing is always tougher than surrender, winning is certain.
Two steps back but three forward.
Confused jumble of thoughts like sharks circling,
Waiting for the opportunity to attack.
I drip my blood into the water, daring them to face me.
But the shark is the coward, not me.
I win again today but I may lose tomorrow,
Fighting fists are wrapped, my mind shield fits me now.
I am ready for the good fight at last.
Peace will be my reward.

The tornado in my core is spinning me around,
The absence of variety is bringing me down.
The pills, the therapy, the truth isn’t nice,
My torture, unable to take my own advice.
Keep making the same mistakes, time and again.
Deepening the ever expanding stain.
Confusing my beloved with apathy and moods,
Desertion or abandonment, I think I wish she would.
Once more on edge, all good thoughts set sail
Taunting me, baiting me, wanting me to fail.
Against a backdrop of mindless roiling black cloud,
Surely pain like this isn’t allowed?
Always a roundabout, never the swings.
And then today, the tornado wins.

Life by numbers,
One for blue… Two for red
Thoughtlessness for its sake
Sympathy but no sign of empathy

Bleakness looking out of intelligent eyes.
Waste of a body,
Waste of skin,
Waste.

Carelessness in your heart,
Makes sadness abound.
A tear in the corner of the unsmiling eye,
That tear’s for me.

Uninspired, even, flat, numb.
Thoughts jumbled, word-hole silent.
Pressure building up behind my eyes,
Screaming only makes me hoarse.
One-word answers to important questions,
Frustration on my wife’s face.
How much can she take?
How much more have I got in me?
How much more can I take?
Will she give up on me, on us?
Will she caress me for the thousandth time?
Tell me it will be alright?
Will she take them and leave me to wallow?
Stay and help or put the boot in?
Leave me nothing but my frightened mind.
Or stay and love me, just love me.
This fragile shell I occupy won’t last much longer.
It’s worn out in thought and deed.
Even I don’t see the value.
I push her away again,
Just hoping she pushes back.

Blistering white light stabs my eyes,
Ripping me from the velvety blackness of dreamless sleep.
The call of the day beckoning me to rise,
But it’s warm in here,
It’s cosy in here,
Safe in here.

Demons of consciousness waylaid,
Fighting their own private battles.
Their fight is none of my business,
But they make it mine anyway.
Coffee, toilet, shower, teeth and
Now I’m as unready for the day as I’ve ever been.
;

I visit your grave at the cemetery and I feel nothing,
This horribly beautiful and peaceful place.
All I see are monuments to death.
I don't think of you there.

I remember gripping your finger,
As we walked to mass on a Saturday night.
I think of the times we shared a beer,
The times we made each other laugh.

The one time you made us cry,
Was when you left us.
But, left us with loving memories and hope,
That one day we'd see you again.

Now when I visit the grave,
I want to laugh in the face of death
Then tell him he'll never win.
You're in my heart and in my head forever.

Someday we will all marvel at the lives we've had,
Inspired by one great man to some,
Simply Da to me

I don't want to be strong today
I want to be weak
I don't want to stay positive today
I want to cry
I don't want to talk today
I want to punch
I don't want to be kind today
I want to wallow
I don't want to write today
I want to hug

I drowned a little yesterday,
The big brown eyes invited me to swim.
I caught my breath and dove in,
My knees weakened by the clash of red and black.
Tensed and ready for the onslaught,
I placed all my trust in the youthful face.
Expecting nothing but the world to be put to rights.
A little release, soft yet painful.
Like removing a splinter but leaving the cut.
Will I heal over the cut like always?
Will she dig it out and cut deeper to heal better?
Therapy is not for the weak,
But living is.
;

Monday’s child hit me in the face,
Tuesday’s child doesn’t know his place.
Wednesday’s child is depressed and alone,
Thursday’s child is accident prone.
Friday’s child is full of remorse,
Saturday’s child is right, of course.
Sunday’s child is an atheist.

What cost these dark days?
What cost these lamenting episodes?
What cost the hours worrying and waiting?
What cost the time spent under covers?

What value the sun?
What value family?
What value in a friend?
What value in love?

Sunshine is free.
Time is relative.
Friends are priceless.
The right Love is eternal.

I must get up and take my pills
But I have to dress and go downstairs.
This is a bed day. A head day.

I must get up and eat something
But I haven’t the strength today
I haven’t the will today.

My get up and go got off at the last stop.
I didn’t let it go,
Wasn’t my choice.

This thing’s in control of my every fibre
Head pounding, stomach on fire
But I’m healthy in body not in mind.
A simple decision is taking an hour

This pain in my head,
Keeping me indoors instead.
Invading my dreams,
Brain bursting at the seams.

Focus on one thing,
No, not that sting.
Now I feel I could sing,
Look at my wedding ring.

So lucky to have found a wife,
Amazing she chose to stay in my life.
All the cross-words and strife,
That time I picked up the knife…

Wish I’d stayed in bed
Wish I’d no sore head.
Think I’ll have tea,
Will she make it for me?

I can’t decide today
Do I ask her to stay?
Make them all go away,
This pain is here to stay.

Words, words, too many words.
Smashing inside, trapped and bound,
Screaming at me to let them out.
Picking the wrong target,
Releasing the wrong ones.
Creating a mess of pain and hurt.
So I shut them in again,
Suffer them myself again.
Talk less, think more.
Love less, lose more.

I left before I left.
I just didn't know then.

With your last breath, you focused all your will and then,

You took the knife out of your heart and impaled my soul.

Welcome to the futile death of our love.