Where have I come from?
Where am I headed?
What am I doing here?
Does it feed my soul’s desire?
Who am I?
Am I who I want to be?
Am I who I’m destined to be?

Into the woods
Seeking solace and R&R,
Away from civilisation,
And the dreaded mobile phone.
Off grid, switched off and outnumbered by trees,
Explore who I am, what I’m doing, where I’m heading.
At 50
Time to take stock,
Reappraise and reapply,
And fulfil my soul’s path.

How do you do that?
When you don’t know what it is
When you don’t know who you are
When you’ve never truly been you.
Always wanting desperately to fit in,
but never seeming able.
Afraid of being judged,
yet judging too.
Never taking action
for consequential fear.
Drifting through life,
Disassociated,
Disconnected,
Discombobulated,
No surprise.
Disengaged,
Discontented,
Disenchanted.

5 nights in the woods
Just me and my tent.
Walking all day,
Staring in the fire all night.
Sitting in peace and quiet amongst coppice, hornbeam and oak
Seeking answers
With none forthcoming.
Other than taking time out.
And dreaming of
Living the #vanlife
Going where the mood takes me.
No rush, no worries, no cares,
Just me and my camper van
Freedom and
Flexibility.

Travelling on the road,
Meeting kindness of strangers,
Comfy dress down
No airs and graces,
Deep conversations,
Connection,
Move on.
Being the nomadic free spirit,
that’s me.

But is it an escape?
A way to stay disconnected?
A way to not face up to feelings
Of anger and shame?
Or will it be the making of me?
The discovery of me?
The adventurer in me?

I love you
from behind the window
behind the curtain
of your orbit
I love you madly
without your notice
the way the moon loves
with all her scars

Close the blinds,
silence the laughter
no spoken word and no life sign
shall disturb my hopeless slumber.

For I am alive but I do not live
hidden from the present
lurking in forbidden gardens
where pain and doubts carry me.

I was once,
maybe I tried to be
now I am no more, will I be again?
Are the hidden ones truly free?
Are the silenced ones truly forgotten?

Close the blinds,
silence the laughter
echoes of silence reign here,
now and forever.

I raised my voice today
You only tuned me out again
The pregnancy wasn't planned
But it was a chance to begin

You reached out to me
then knocked me to the floor
feeling betrayal
at how my body
so willingly accepted the gift of yours

You were scared
And so was I
the choice was ours
and it became our guilt
as the life inside me went away

Finally----
as day led on to coupled day
the only surprise left
was departed touch
as did our love
until nothing stayed.

The prime seat in its own colour decked with gems,
The scepter at the right and the scroll at the left,
The carpet in the front and the beauties at the back,
The whole of the seat, surrounded by minions,
Under the roof of luxury and manipulation:
Airplanes across nations; military fascination;
Self-styled profile; Cakewalk attires;
No cost hospitals; sheathed in ‘Black Cats’;
Floating in dream cars; pocketful currency;
Illegality against law; Cosmetic actors;
Pen in the right hand, eraser in the left hand;
Lying against truth; falsifying reality;
Kicking the ignorant citizens with empty schemes;
Fanaticism against patriotism;
Skilled in Disguise Show; Crafty-minded in bargaining;
Sellers and vendors of nations’ legitimacy;
Eating the simple pie of the poor, hugging the corporates;
Terrorizing the supporters of nations;
Dwindling the economy of nations;
Building weapons and Bio tools;
Tarnishing the reality with paradoxical episodes;
Bullet trains through the veins of the ignorant citizens;
Building aristocratic bonds among infamous showcases;
Sidelining the needs of the needy; amassing wealth for families;
Of all deeds of negativity, there is one left,
And that is self-justification of all deeds,
For the seat of Power in its own colour decked with gems,
The scepter at the right and the scroll at the left,
The carpet in the front and the beauties at the back,
The whole of the seat, surrounded by minions,
Under the roof of luxury and manipulation.
So I sought and seek Power.

Let your heart touch mine as mine craves your touch.
Let your soul feel what mine desires and needs so much.

Share with me in what only true love shares.
Share with me what only a joint soul dares.

Eyes for only you with mind and heart enslaved to you.
Come with me where devotion and love compels us to.

A universe with you as the light that guides my future path.
All who follow will know that passion and love is our epitaph.

My heart calls to you as it yet again repeats its lonely prayer.
Mind that feels the emptiness, but yet hopes, that you are there.

I wanted to do what was right
to seek the sea for my vessel
alas - it's nowhere in sight!

I am a lighthouse in a desert.

To compose the fractured consciousness like a million-piece mirror with something greater than glue, The Galaxy of thoughts and their accompanying peopledness swirls fresh and new this morning, propping me up instead of weighing me down.

I have the footprints of some road signs that I ran over one day, the car ploughed through them all going off the shoulder of the highway and up the muddied neck of creation.

If the world has fallen, where does one lie down at night other than under the rubble or under the stars?

There hollers a man, soul searing, guts thoroughly wrenched, but he Blocks the doorway of parties with hidden interests, all of them equally Drunk, though sober, Boredom is a clever disguise.

The man who moulds his breath into that violent Release also works on the artistry of his face. For a man with nothing to hide your face can never have too many lines, and he's carving out a clay masterpiece though his life is a kiln of grief, the Cold Furnace carries on around him, Robbing itself of the simple beauty it produced long ago.