I want to throw a tantrum.
Scream and shout
And kick things that don't need to be kicked.
The bones of my knuckles and hips poke out
A little     m  o  r  e
Than they did before.
My finger rings and hip-hugging jeans slip,
Not quite fitting the same way they had.
My skeleton creeping its way ever so slightly
Closer to the surface
Like it wants to get out
And   r u n    to    h e r.

Self-diagnosis: Lovesick.
Before, we were a storybook fairytale
But now our make-believe has something to latch onto.
Like a parasite.
More real
And more torturous
Than the existence of my past self.
I can't crave food the same way I can crave her touch.
My stomach shipwreck still feels the memories
Like they were yesterday's meal.
Has it really been a month?
My emotions ebb and flow
Along the shoreline of my consciousness.
Lovesickness courses through my veins
And through the vessel in my chest
Until I fall into a slumber
And in my dreams I have her once again
*If only for a moment.

fall endlessly like raindrops to the ocean;
Like little soldiers, one after the other,
They fall just as the enemy targets them.

Why am I here?
Why do I tell you this?
Why do these fall in my face when my insides feel nothing?

Then again, what is a smile with happiness in it?

If the moment comes,
Will you promise
That your soul shall rest with me,
In my heart,
And beside me every night when I sleep,
And holding my hand as I walk throughout the day?

What was once said has gone dry
I've spilt more than I care to clean up
This mess needs more than attention
It's in need of Molotov solution
Watch this fire be crushed by the air in my lungs
What once was said has just begun
To take it's toll on your troubled mind
Thoughts of the past soon left behind
Unsure of what I say and the power of my truth
I'm not weird baby I'm just different to you

...and just when I start believing
that I might be fogetting you.
I see you randomly burst into a dance in the middle of the kitchen,
and you cut apple bites for both of us,
and they taste so sweet,
and you are making me laugh,
and then I get home to realize
I don't even like apples...
... or so I though.

Within that magical moment
The world is at one and at ease
Everyone is loving their neighbour
And we have control of disease.

But it doesn't last, it cannot last
It will all go back as before
To the dying from hunger and violence
To man’s unending desire for war.

One man plants a crop for food
But another man reaps the gain
The one making life from the profit
While another’s reward is just pain.

That man is black, or yellow, who cares!
His blood like yours is red
The bullets or knives that pierce your skins
Would make you both as dead.

A man gets beaten in the street
His crime was being gay
Who gave those others the right to judge
Will prejudice never go away?

The ones with strength to dominate
Should nonetheless take heed
When they themselves are wanting help
Who’ll stay to fill that need.

I hear the ever-growing rains
They flood the town and field
Where hardship’s felt so gravely
Where man is forced to yield.

Perhaps we brought it on ourselves
We feel the need for so much
But there are so many more with nothing
Who’d benefit from a gentle touch.

Back to that magical moment
It’s the one just before I awake
Where the next moment comes and it’s over
And it can’t be put right with a shake.



©Joe Wilson – A Magical Moment…and then it’s gone! 2014

It is remarkably difficult to find
that moment in the middle of a day
when nothing is on your mind,
all the chaos just fades away,
and somehow you know that you will be okay.

A moment’s pleasure is worth
A year’s pain
For the happiness of a moment
Is completely immeasurable

However the pain of a century
Doth bare its mark
On the backs of many
The ones that have been weighed down
Not only by the misery of themselves
And the tragedy of life
But by the shame of the gratitude
That they have failed to bestow

Just as the happiness of a moment
Does not bring eternal joy
Similarly, a life without suffering
Surely does not guarantee eternal freedom of the heart
And so it comes about
That one cannot truly appreciate life
Without having first suffered

The beatings of the winds of darkness
Always meet an end where they rest
Offering an escape to the hopefuls
And thus calamity only befalls
Those who lay in wait
For them to begin again.