I wanted to write a poem about peace
but I was too angry
I wanted to write a poem about love
but my passion was elsewhere
I wanted to write a poem about freedom
but there was nothing to stop me
Just as there is nothing to stop you
But you wont
You would rather write about hate
About how people shouldn't be allowed to say that because its not nice and its not respectful and it offends you
But you don't say "they"
because you don't know who they are
You don't say their names
because you can't be bothered to find out
You identify them by their religion
because of the clothes they wear
You identify them by their race
because of the colour of their skin
You took a handful of people and used them to taint almost a quarter of the worlds population.
Congratulations.
And now your words are circling the globe, spreading hate and intolerance while at the same time spreading their message, and so it begins.
The spiral of hatred and terror and fear and mistrust that ends with some young Arab kid kicked to death on the streets of London "cos he looks like a Muslim". The same spiral of hatred and terror and fear and mistrust that ends with a young Muslim walking into a market in Baghdad and killing hundreds as he martyrs himself to defend his home against the invading infidels.
And the only thing that's changed is the body count
The only thing that's changed is the number of mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and sons and daughters who will have one more reason to cry on this day and mourn their dead while others protest the loss of theirs.
And so it goes on.

If only it had been my words that had circled the earth first and not yours, we may have learned something actually worth learning.

If you really want to stop the killing and the dying and the mourning and the protests that offend you so much, copy and paste THIS and show the world there are still those that can think for themselves, that there is still hope.

It is there....
Can you not see it?
Since the day you were born...
It has always been there...
Ask it to yourself...
Think it to yourself...

Things only you know...
Places only you know...
Faces only you see...
Fears only you feel...

When you feel most alone

The cavity, the infinite uncertainty
The great possibility.
You see the world through a foggy window.
People walking around in the meadow.

When everything that matters in your life turns into thin air...

Dear Death,
I'm sorry I could not meet you yesterday,
I was busy, things got in the way.
It was looking promissing then, well,
the heart attack didn't happen
then things just sort of went to hell.
The neighbours cat got stuck up a tree,
I know it sounds like I'm making excuses,
but the truth is there was only me.
And there were other things, not just that.
I would not have been able to ring an ambulance
****** mobile phone, the battery was flat.
I stood you up, Death, but I can't be there,
at everybodies beck and ****** call,
the wife needed me to drive her to the mall.
Look Death why don't we try again next year,
I'm not going anywhere, I mean I'll still be here.

4th November 2010

Dear Regret,

I'm afraid this letter,
is more or less a "Dear John."
I'm sick of hanging around,
crying buckets over what is gone.

I know you would like me,
to spend hours looking back,
at the things that could have been,
and bemoan the things I lack.

I know you're keen to review,
each and every mistake I made,
me I'd rather walk away from it,
and just call a ***** a *****.

I'd rather take on my tomorrows,
not bother to regret my past,
walk into sunshine in the future,
and leave you behind, at last.

(c) 16th November 2010

I heard you calling quietly,
the voice in the night,
like a siren, just there,
but always out of sight.
I heard your promise,
as you hid there in the light.

I thought I might come to you,
as you gently called my name,
I felt myself drawn to you,
a moth drawn to the flame,
was this really happening,
some dream, perhaps a game?.

I awoke, still here. Alive!
The voice echos in my mind,
the voice that calls us all,
leaves not one of us behind,
the voice, the quiet voice,
sounds so gentle and so kind.

(c) 3rd October 2010