THE INNER CONDITION

These poems are about the inner struggle. Each is heavily but not exclusively autobiographical.

I Remember....

This was composed as an exercise at a monthly writing group I attend - a friend whose opinions I value suggested it might stand up on its own!

:--)

'What's with your emoticon?' she asked. 'How do you mean?' said I. 'Most people use ony one dash for the nose, you use two; so tell me why?'

A Never Ending War

Psychiatrists, psychologists Councillors and more, An endless round of battles In a never ending war. Depression pills and sleeping pills Stomach pills and stuff,

A TEAR

Usually my poems are structured, this is my attempt to break the mould. It is mainly autobiographical, some is the figment of my imagianation.

AN END TO THIS

This is another poem about depression. It is my personal feelings, the things I find the hardest to write about. It was written in 'real time' as I was actually experiencing them.

CAN I PLEASE HAVE MY BRAIN BACK?

A dozen years I've popped these pills S.N.R.I.'s to "cure my ills", Twelve years a monkey on my back Can I PLEASE have my brain back? Six weeks ago, as is my luck
Cherry

THE DARK TIMES

This is a poem about depression. The central character is a fiction - most of her experiences and emotions are all my own. Fortunately my own saving voice has always spoken up before I left my bed.
Cherry

SPRING AND BROOK AND RIVER

I heard someone say that because their life had changed fundamentally that they were never a baby, effectively their life began at that time of change. This is my counter argument.

HOW QUICK (TRUST TO DUST)

One thing in life I fail to learn Is how quick a friend can turn, From someone you think you can trust To one who turns your heart to dust. You thought they'd always have your back

WEARINESS

Weariness Bone aching, strength sapping weariness.

THE POET'S CURSE II - SELF-DOUBT

I sit here in this attic room I strive to write, I'm struck by gloom; With self-doubt I ceaseless wrest To know I'll never be the best. Words and thoughts rise in my head,

PAIN

Pain Constant pain Not quite physical A mental pain An invisible wound. Constant pain My life is ruled by it Its tendrils ensnare me Its power engulfs me At times it overwhelms me.
Cherry

FOR ALL HIS LIFE... (I.P.)

For all his life he'd tried his best To make the grade, to pass each test; To raise the bar, to win the game To leave his mark, to etch his name; To scale the heights, to reach the top
Cherry

NINE THIRTY-FOUR IN THE EVENING

As an experiment, I wrote this directly onto ABCtales, a form of free writing if you will. For the record I love my wife very much, it is my illness that makes me withdraw.

I TELL THE TALE....

I tell the tale, I write the word I pray the voice inside is heard, I form the lines, fine-tune the prose Arrange my thoughts in ordered rows. I write the word, I tell the tale

SOME SHINE FROM THE FIRMAMENT

Some shine from the firmament Their station seeming permanent, Within, without, a stellar glow Held in awe by we below. With pen akin to sorcerer's wand Or QWERTY board that's way beyond

Get Over it (Again!!) (on having my name mistyped)

At last! At last! My name in print You'd think cruel Fate might take the hint, When now at last I've made the grade She would not piss on my parade.

THE POET'S CURSE III - THE CONTEST

The contest in question is the National Poetry Anthology 2012 (Closing Date: June 30th 2011) http://www.unitedpress.co.uk/competitions/

QWERTY BOARD

My laptop has a QWERTY board In truth it's more a Ouija board, Speaking not to spirits dead Seeking words and rhymes instead. The words are pulled from who knows where
Cherry

HE'D ALREADY DISAPPEARED

His name was Peter, but no one ever called him that.

EACH WALKED YARD

My walk to work leads out of town With every step my mood dips down, The shift ahead looms ever hard… Anxiety grows with each walked yard.

I HAVE NO SECRET VALENTINE

I know it's a tad late, but hell.. if I wanted to work to deadlines I'd write for a newspaper.

Sightless My Mind's Eye

Tell me gentles what you see Behind your lidded eyes? Can you behold a sunset, Can you picture cloudless skies? In your imagination Can you see a lush green hill? Can your mind's eye reveal
Cherry

The Curse of the Unread Story

Raising a few questions, letting off steam, laughing at myself - all in 28 lines !!!
Cherry

STANDING UPON THE SHOULDERS OF GIANTS

"If I have seen further (than you and Descartes) it is by standing upon the shoulders of Giants." Sir Isacc Newton in a letter to Robert Hooke...

Self Hatred

Self-hatred? Always, always, always.

JANUARY

Christmas Day a distant memory New Year's Eve ignored My birthday a redundant circle on the calendar Twelth Night's number already up Tanenbaums...

I Can See You...

Imagine, if you will, the scene. It is a Thursday evening in February; a spoken word event at a city centre coffee bar is in full flow. One reader...

I Can See You...Postscript

" “I will never be as good as these others, you say; their applause means nothing, their comments mean nothing, I mean nothing… “Do you think I need...