The feel of the pen
on the paper
the poet grabs a verse.

the dripping of morphine
the flow of endorphins
flow of electronic lines
across the monitor
let’s hope we don’t flatline

this mere mortal
needs a portal to the stars
this mere mortal needs
defibrillation to the heart
the way the poetry forms
in the lungs and the mind
the way life needs beauty
is sometimes unkind

I am the blood transfusion
the illusion
of poems
bells chime
Electrons flow
Radioactive  X-rays know
Poetry opens doors

I am the emergency poet
I will take flight
in flames
never shall I be tamed
But I will make that heart beat
and get you out of your seat
And on the road to recovery
and discovery

Because poetry heals
and steals back our songs
what could go wrong?

You can’t imagine the things I have seen
You can’t imagine my dreams
you can’t think like me in every way
I am unique, I pave the way
I maybe distant
sometimes obtuse
I sometimes let loose
my fears and anger prangs
like a car hitting a wall
but I hold as much truth as you all
See I am schizophrenic
I hear voices
But don’t despair
I see choices
they hang in the air
I have been broken
I don’t expect you to always care
I doggedly battle on
Cause I still know right from wrong
even with whispers and shouts in my mind
I fight to be human and to be kind
Though I suffer with paranoia
the darkness which destroys
I love life enough to stay here and not be destroyed
so don’t have pity
Let me speak and write and sing
because I know sadness is a painful muse
but creativity is my thing.
#Alienpoet

Sitting in your old arm chair,
With a devil may care,
Attitude.
Talking about the ingratitude
Of youth.
Watching TV,
Eating microwaveable meals,
Grumpa,
I still love you,
I remember the times when I was young,
and you helped me,
when I was stung,
by a wasp,
or fell over.
Life is hard,
it makes you,
grumpy and
lonely,
Please think of the things you’ve shown me,
Rather than talking about the things that make you despair
I know behind the passive aggression you still care,
I know I sometimes take the ****,
But really Grumpa,
I can see all your tricks,
There is still, to my surprise,
magic behind those eyes,
And bedtime stories waiting to be read.
Grumpa,
Don’t lose the thread
We all need a grandfather like you,
For you have all the experience,
You will know what to do!

Be a friend to yourself
When friends let themselves out the backdoor with out saying goodbye
and the things they told you were well meaning lies
Be a friend to yourself above all
and walk tall
open your eyes and be wise
learn to love the beating of your heart
turn the page on rage make a new start
respect yourself and your actions
be the change you want to see in others
Be a loving friend to people your sisters and brothers
but love yourself in the truth
of knowing that sometimes you are alone
no body to hold no body to phone
so have compassion on you
like you do on other people
may you be defined by the way you treat people and yourself
because your mental health is your wealth.

Laser light
born for flight
Sun rise keen
living in a open top dream
where’s my balloon?
light to pierce the gloom
flowers in full bloom
cover your babies cheek in the womb
the room inside your stomach
flummoxed by the madness
glistening gladness
the tide of times
everything that holds me rhymes
I am a poet life is a poet tree
I bleed ink in the heart of me.

Rain falling on the decomposing leaves
cold autumn air breathed in warm lungs
the wind blows muttering ghost stories
into our ears.

Pumpkins carved into wickedly twisted smiles
as we dress up for Halloween discos and parties with style
gathering sweets as we go
while the full moon glows.

Bonfires built as we wait for the 5th of November
when fireworks will explode and sparkle in the night sky
we remember the gun powder plot
as we toast marshmallows on the bonfire.

You can throw us poets down the stairs
catch us behind your steely glare
teach us that poetry is antiquated
and act all sophisticated
but lyrics will enter your head
dance in circles and hover over your bed
when you sleep you will dream
and your rhymes will come clean
and they will carry a theme.

You can toast a wine glass
to your victory over rhythmic words
but time and time love poetry will fill a class
teachers know it’s not absurd
teenagers will be rebels and they will rap
to music talking over a beat
and their poetry is not crap

poetry is all around us and we come up with it everyday
whether written or spoken
it always will be used in advertising slogans today
and when the silence is broken
remember that poetry was used to convey stories years ago
and the poetry of those stories we know
will stick in your head
like a needle sewing a thread.

I am a white Labrador
I don’t like other types
I bark and I bark and I bite
I am a white human
I don’t like people of other shades
I load my gun and sharpen my blades
I am a husky I like to play
I tussle I hustle and bustle with other dogs all day
I am a human being
I see that we are all different but the same
blaming other people is a playground game
I am an alien we been through all these struggles
On our planet we recognise that variation is fun and not trouble
and variation is also causes beauty in strange ways
we don’t come to fight we come to observe your planets creatures
But we are light years away but we’d like to teach you.