Trying

Here I am,
Trying once again.

Trying to create something beautiful,
Trying to glimpse eternity,
Trying to distil a moment.

Here I am,
Trying once again.

Trying to impress,
Trying to state my worth,
Trying to be something more.

Here I am,
Trying once again.

Trying to reconcile talent with torment,
Trying to balance fun with functionality,
Trying to see the ramifications of reality.

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This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

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Lickety-Split

I wanna quit
I’m just not with it
Feeling like shit
Feeling like a misfit
An unfit and unlit hypocrite
In need of a refit

No longer with the energy to commit
Unable to continue sharing my wit
Unable to continue to submit
Unable to fulfil his holy writ

A social counterfeit
A fool with his brain split
Someone who’s no longer legit

Some kinda halfwit
Rolling without a permit
In need of a babysit

I’m unfit
An empty tool kit
A horse without its bit
A victim that’s gaslit
A plane without a cockpit
A radio with nothing to transmit

Guilt that’s impossible to acquit
Pain that I can no longer omit

Not without a wrist slit

Not without a friend to get close-knit
Someone that allows me to admit
All of my turmoil and bullshit
Someone with the necessary grit
To make the darkness sunlit
Someone that won’t just split
The moment I fall into a pit

If that’s you, please send help, lickety-split

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This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Obsession

Using words for expression,
A curing pain session,
My inner mind’s compression,
With anxiety, rumination and depression,
It’s an obsession,
A self-destructive messin’
Around, with pills or a knife,
Ideation of death is rife,
Friends and family feeling my strife,
I got them worried ‘bout my life,
But I am fine,
Words help me shine,
No longer stuck in a confine,
Like a farmer’s favourite bovine,
That’s escaped the plot,
Mental clarity I’ve now got,
Pen in hand, my afflictions are shot,
Now I’m free to write my own plot,
Dream following,
Ego swallowing,
Heart opening,
Pain forgoing,
With a pen in hand,
And paper I brand,
Myself anew in this land,
Here I stand.

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This poem is from the book, ‘Words On A Page’

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Waste A Day

A wasted day,
Mental health gone away,
I don’t want to stay,
I wish there was another way,
In constant dismay,
Life’s all work no play,
Never enough pay.

//

I want to play with you,
Find a place to lay with you,
Spend the night and stay with you,
Waste another day with you.

I’ve seen you slay,
And have it your way,
Made the boys pay,
Taking them as you may.

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This poem represents the range of my mood. I was written over two days: the first half when depressed, and the second half when hyper-sexual.

I wanted to use the same words/rhymes to represent the two contrasted emotional states.

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This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.