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Alienpoet Mar 27
When we look to the future
let’s remind ourselves that the sun
shines all the time for everyone
and in making dreams
with possibilities
we distill hope
and our faith carries us on
even if like a candles it flickers
we will relight the flame
because we know love is the Holy Spirit’s
name.
Alienpoet Sep 2020
Sometimes
The world goes on behind my window
I stare out into the suns glare
I wrap myself around my thoughts
and all that I have sought
do I still care?

Sometimes
I am broken beggar
trying to get a leg up
sometimes I want to say
words of meaning
am I still dreaming?

Sometimes
my hearts soft like paper
sometimes it’s hard like a diamond
fashioned with pressure and heat
sometimes I play my songs on repeat
hoping to make my way to someone’s smile on the street.

Sometimes
I bow to the dark
sometimes I look to the stars sparkling in the sky
sometimes I want to die
but I realise life is short
and I love my friends to much to make this life end
so my epitaph will say I loved until my world drifted away
but I left you my words and that’s more than ok.
Alienpoet Sep 2020
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
Alienpoet Dec 2019
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!
Alienpoet Feb 2019
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.
Alienpoet Nov 2018
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.
Alienpoet Oct 2018
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.
Alienpoet Mar 2018
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.
Alienpoet Dec 2017
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.
An anti racism poem variation is the spice of life
Alienpoet May 2017
There is a monster in my toy box and he’s covered in purple fur.
His eyes are like slot machines and they whizz around and whir.
He makes me say silly things and he plays with our cat.
He hides the TV remote under the bathroom mat.
He comes out every night to read through all my books.
He tears the corners, he writes in them in crayon and just look...
When I try to catch him, he scurries far away.
Mummy and Daddy, I’m not naughty, I just have to say:
“It was the monster in my toy box, he’s naughty all the time.
You just never see him ‘cos he’s so clever with all his crimes!”
A children's poem
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