Cowboy Time
Ten to ten
To ten
To ten
To ten
Ten
Ten to ten
To ten
To ten
To ten
To ten ten ten
Saturday, 11 November 2017
Cold-a poem
Cold
It's cold tonight
And dark
There is no light
No spark
The Sun will be low
And soon be gone
Leaving its glow
To make way for the moon
Wednesday, 8 November 2017
It's that time of year again
It's been nearly two months since I last wrote anything on here. I don't know where the time goes, it just seems to slip past like the waters of a river as the boat of life moves downstream.
Anyway, enough waxing lyrical.
It's that time of year when I start to feel even lower than usual. My birthday has been and gone, the clocks have gone back so the dark nights are upon us, the anniversary of a terrible event in my life fast approaches and the Christmas adverts are on TV, harbingers of another period of false bonhomie and excessive consumption.
Since I'm unsure of how to get out of this sadness-fest I go through each year I'll once again write my thoughts down so that I can, I hope, exorcise them.
It is probably a good idea to look on the bright side. I have, for now, a roof over my head, I have friends who, although I rarely see them can be contacted though social media, I'm losing weight, by the simple expedient of cutting down on alcohol consumption and cutting out cakes and biscuits completely. I was 17 stone 7 lbs when I moved into this flat in August 2015, at the last check yesterday morning I was 15 stone exactly. So far, all good.
But there is as always a but. But, I still have this low level, dull, pit-of-the-stomach aching emptiness about my person which nags away day after day. A while ago I was prescribed drugs by my doctor, they didn't help. All I got was diarrhoea, which admittedly took my mind off my low mood since I was concentrating on not crapping myself every time I went more that 50 feet from a toilet so perhaps they did help a bit.
Like I said, they didn't work and the aforementioned feelings never went away and are still there, all the damn time, to one degree or another. I don't know why I have these low moods, maybe there's a deep-seated cause somewhere but I'm blessed if I know what it is, or if I do I've suppressed it. So until I find a solution I suppose I'll just have to keep on keeping on in the hope that someday the thing in my head that brings me low will go away and leave me in peace.
Until next time, Peace and Love. ttfn x
Anyway, enough waxing lyrical.
It's that time of year when I start to feel even lower than usual. My birthday has been and gone, the clocks have gone back so the dark nights are upon us, the anniversary of a terrible event in my life fast approaches and the Christmas adverts are on TV, harbingers of another period of false bonhomie and excessive consumption.
Since I'm unsure of how to get out of this sadness-fest I go through each year I'll once again write my thoughts down so that I can, I hope, exorcise them.
It is probably a good idea to look on the bright side. I have, for now, a roof over my head, I have friends who, although I rarely see them can be contacted though social media, I'm losing weight, by the simple expedient of cutting down on alcohol consumption and cutting out cakes and biscuits completely. I was 17 stone 7 lbs when I moved into this flat in August 2015, at the last check yesterday morning I was 15 stone exactly. So far, all good.
But there is as always a but. But, I still have this low level, dull, pit-of-the-stomach aching emptiness about my person which nags away day after day. A while ago I was prescribed drugs by my doctor, they didn't help. All I got was diarrhoea, which admittedly took my mind off my low mood since I was concentrating on not crapping myself every time I went more that 50 feet from a toilet so perhaps they did help a bit.
Like I said, they didn't work and the aforementioned feelings never went away and are still there, all the damn time, to one degree or another. I don't know why I have these low moods, maybe there's a deep-seated cause somewhere but I'm blessed if I know what it is, or if I do I've suppressed it. So until I find a solution I suppose I'll just have to keep on keeping on in the hope that someday the thing in my head that brings me low will go away and leave me in peace.
Until next time, Peace and Love. ttfn x
Saturday, 16 September 2017
Morning!
Old Man
A tuneful old man from Bray
Played his tuba whilst lying in Hay
He soon choked on his tongue
Afore he'd played for too long
He's lying in Hay to this day.
Thursday, 14 September 2017
A Cloud
A Cloud
There was a small cloud in the sky
Who was scared at being so high
So he grabbed onto a hill
And some valleys did fill
That foggy young cloud in the sky
A new poem
I was just reading about depression and how debilitating it can be when people feel the need to pretend everything is OK and this poem came into my head.
How are You?
Hey! Long time no see, how are you?
I'm fine, never better, in the pink.
I lie,
Whilst dying inside, a lump of undefined
Sadness gnawing at me for no reason
That I can find. It's just there gnawing at me,
No respite, just a constant chew, chew, chew
At the very fibre of my being, leaving me
Exhausted because I'm fine, never better, in the pink.
Now I know that many poetic purists will criticize my style, lack of scanning/rhyming and many other poetry rules that I fail to observe. I'm also sure that many will think my poetry is crap. That's fine. And I'm not sure why I feel the need to defend my poems other than my innate lack of a sense of self-worth but all I have to say is that they just come to me, I don't spend ages agonizing over them, they come from my heart and mind and that's the way I like them and intend to continue producing them.
Tuesday, 12 September 2017
Two poems
These came to me as I was lying half-awake at 3am today.
I'm Safe
I lie, head covered
To protect me from the
The Bogey Man.
I fall asleep, wake
Oh no! An arm is out!
Look up, relax, it's daylight
Through the curtains,
I'm safe.
Die!
Go back to where you came from!
Die!
You're not like me
Snowflake, Commie, Queer,
Die!
The hatred flows, how to stop it?
Report to Facebook, Twitter?
They do nothing, the answer's
Simple if only you would see.
Stop, think before you press send
Be kind.
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