They say it is an art
It keeps me quite apart
It's never seen as good
Yet happy me not
understood

My grumpy life is good
I see the roses
Tinted love
My sadness makes me happy
From such a grumpy chappy

It is the way to go
The docs do say
It's so
I'll live a little longer life
More grumps i say as I get
older  

I start the day full moan
A grumpiness full drone
It never ever leaves me
My grumpy tree  
Pure freedom

So next time I'm about
Expect a grumpy shout
You'll know its from my heart
My grumpy life
This sad old ****

No flaming Sun,
why call it Sunday?
call it no Sun day
never mind it's no fun day
and tomorrow it's Monday,
another flaming
no fun day.

At this time of year when the weather goes pear shaped and queer
and the clouds all turn grey, it's very hard to find any fun in the day
and the night's even worse.
It gets dark very early and the light has to go on,
which is costing me money and
that's not flaming funny
either.

Bah humbug it's Christmas
Time to panic and purchase extra ****
Time for adverts to hype kids to pester parents to scavenge shelves. Time for painful smiles to be painted and pretend all is well as kin folk gather.
Worry about bedding, and seating and gravy boats and tangled lights and sellotape and hiding spaces they want to sink into.
Time for the lonely to feel isolated and the happy to be oblivious.
Time for excess and ** ** **. Christmas songs relentless grinding through bones while millions go without.
Time for charity boxes to rattle because governments ignore.
Time for hangovers and walks of shame.
Devouring more than is needed. Consumed by the season's abused meaning.
Then once done and discarded we have January, Billuary ready to ****** up the spoils.
And the New Year foolishness of resolutions, and lose weight, get back in shape, sales and sales and holiday dreams until the old valentines rolls in, then Paddy's day and Easter, then pressure for the perfect beach ***. It goes on chipping away and chipping and chipping.

Remonstrances sound in the pale evening gloom
One that is feared, a midnight rose' bloom.
Concealed by a thick, emerging wall
Cries never heard, dying off at her call.

Peering round the tombstone tree,
I see leaves swaying in the ominous breeze.
A foretelling of an unknown story
That has come to end, Grimm's morning glory.

Peeling off the gigantic red brick house,
Are cement and paint in cold dry blood.
Parting gazes deceive the spider
As the web tears apart for the cunning outsider.

Flickering and broken lamps unfixed
They cast light on the wicked, devouring mix
Of witches and grumps, different and alike
Who ruin our lives
And rip even knives.

A considerable vacation it must be
To head in and out, oh how much fun and glee!
But horror tales come undone only in the fall
When the glimmer wears off
And ink splatters the prison wall.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
For when uneasiness returns to us,
For the times it seems too tough.

These are my promises to you,
My soul written down in text.
For always,
Ti amo bellissimo,
Whatever happens next.

This is more than an “I love you, for love alone is not enough.
“I’m done”, frustration uttered in tense moments,
Yet on Us, I won’t give up.

Stop. A pause is needed,
To tame my thoughts and calm my mind,
Ferocious storm clouds had begun to circle,
The complexities of love and humankind.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
As we take uneasy steps upon new ground,
At times, it may be rough.

‘New Ground’, of which we often speak.
This love found us, we did not seek.
A precious new life within me now
To keep safe and to nurture,
To love unconditionally,
This is my solemn vow.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
Gravitational forces when wild at play,
Are strong and pull too much.
Surging with each lunar pull,
Two minds once clear, now worry full.
Thoughts tidal wave within our seas,
Arise and drag you far from reach.

The language of my actions may speak with a foreign tongue,
Your mind, your being and your smile.
Physically,
Mentally,
Spiritually and emotionally,
With you, I feel is where I belong.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
I ‘m sorry for my mistakes,
I hope we can discuss.
The times we upset each other, not knowing the reasons why,
The promise for the future,
I hope we’ll both continue to try.

A human with a lioness’ heart,
For the things you’ve done,
and the things I have done to you,
Forgiveness is a start.
This lioness can be proud,
I have flaws and imperfections like the rest,
I knew that then,
I know that now.

The long-day trivialities,
The tired and hungry grumps.
Forgotten and forgiven,
When your hands upon our precious bump.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
If love was all we needed,
Relationships wouldn’t fall apart through mistrust.
It’s easy to love another, but if we’re going to truly last,
It’s important to move forward and leave behind the past.

I promise my commitment,
To prioritise you in my life,
Because you exist regardless of your state of being,
To me, you are worth the sacrifice.

When you are sick or weak I’ll hold you and be your strength
I’ll care for you through thick and thin,
Even if your decision is that I respect you wishes,
I’ll still do this is from arms-length.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
If uneasiness returns again,
For the times it seems too tough
These are my promises to you,
My soul and love written down in text,
For always,
Ti amo bellissimo,
Whatever happens next.

I give more than just my words to you, written for you to keep,
I give my heart, my soul and my love to you,
Please absorb them within you deep.
I hope to give much more to you, as we learn along the way
You are loved bellissimo,
The good and the imperfections,
Come what may.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
I hope too, for you bellissimo,
That I am all you want.
I hope I am enough.

I hate it
more than anything else
when people negatively comment
on how much energy someone has.
No need to be so excited  
Yes there is sir.
As a matter of fact
we have a great need to be excited.
We have to make up
for all the negative
grumps like you.

The chirping of birds
Alarms the time to wake
Another day of living
A sound of daybreak

The smooth silky ripples
Pave, the so calmed lake
They smile to the sky
Raising high to take

I stretch my hands high
So to touch the puffy cloud
The rumbles warm me
With beat grumps so loud

The walk through the trees
Pitches the light to cast my shadow
Like a laser blade
It attracts me towards the meadow

There I sit, looking down
Where the lake dances with its flow
Taking a deep breath
And then exhaling it slow

To the life that sheds my tears
Breaks my heart and shatters apart
Caged like in a glass orb
Shelved in a busy mart

This feeling crawls in slowly
And mocks through my fear
The fighting gist sits back
With no one to hear

I feel alone and slumber in the dark
Voices fiddle to my in
All are doing it
C'mon, it's not a sin

But I run to hide to reach
The path which I've walked before
Through the smiling trees
Next to the lakes shore

Where nature welcomes me
With ripples and a puffy crown
Radiance full of golden sparkles
In which, my dark feelings drown...

©sim

Feels like the ice age rewritten on a new page, perhaps it's a new age or maybe my old age, all I know is that it takes an age for a bus to come when you're already late for work.

The body in conspiracy
River gushes
From the nose
Overflowing it's banks
The head grumps
In pain
Quizzes antibodies
"En tu Brutus"?

This is for us
who work with those
we love or tolerate
(hate seems a bit strong
for them we’re forced among,
it’s not like we’re a picnic either...)

You are mainly wonderful,
sometimes misguided,
but we’ll hide grumps
in flippant huffs
because we know the pull
is mostly in the same direction

But know we miss the scrum,
the ****** staff room air,
hurried tea and coffee
and meaningful cake

Daily, we take time to thank you
as we grapple this stupidity
that dwarfs all sense

The dinner table desk
is a lonely place

Encased in a narrow perspective
Surrounded
By blank,
Muddy-caked,
Matted walls
Further down in
The dumps
In the grumps
In the clumps of morass
Drying out like a drought
Turns to gold
The green grass
Shriveling in my withering
Thirsting for purpose
The worthlessness fissures
And cracks at the surface
Unquenchable brain
Drained to barren expanses
Parched lips press their kiss
Upon parchment romances

I’m down in the dumps.
Why? I don’t have the mumps.
Sure, life has its bumps,
Even some humps.
I’ve known many chumps,
As well as some grumps;
(One called me a frump!)
Yet—my mind does its jumps;
Something deep, deep in my ****?
A rumble, stumble, grumble;
Oumph! Ugh!
Quick, pass the stomach pump:
It’s, it’s—
I’m passing a…