Tuesday, 7 October 2014

Void Choice

So when all the day is nearly done and the Earth spins slowly round to night,
do you welcome darkness into your heart?
Or do you fumble for a light and pray for the sun to rise again?

Though dark brings shadow things and beasts of nightmarish hell,
so too does day - for sharper shadows are cast when the light is strongest.
And night brings pleasure, too, for those who want it.

Monday, 29 September 2014

Closed for Business

The curtain draws shut as another show ends, slipping quietly along runners well-greased.
Marionettes stripped of their costumes collapse in an exhausted heap - the time for dance is over; now they must sleep.
The crowd remains, expecting encore, but none comes. The dark material hangs, silent, facing blank stares with blank, faceless thread.
Eventually, the crowd disperses: unsure what they saw. Their confused complaints lost in muffled echoes as the last stragglers go.
The world spins on outside. No-one really watches the theatre; they watch the show.
A good place to hide? No... Just empty and hollow.

Friday, 28 March 2014

Mind

It is a pale darkness, always on the peripheral of life. Slumped, knowing and silent against a cold wall while you walk past in a hurry.

It is a creeping menace. A numbness that urges you to hide inside its empty halls and lonely desert gardens.

It beckons while you're not looking, acting all nonchalant when you turn around - making you think you're going backwards because you want to, not because it's calling, constantly, softly... making you paranoid.

It is an addiction. It is your melancholy friend. A part of you apart from you, making you feel less alone.

You drown out the noise of friends and family trying to help.

Be quiet! I can hear it now... It's calling me down.

I must go.

Monday, 13 January 2014

The one with the toad in...

Author Foreword

I wrote this one in Ridgemede Junior School, Bishop's Waltham some time in the very early 90s.  I believe the school has since been renamed to Bishop's Waltham Junior School.  This is my first ever poem.

Roller-skating down the road.
Oo, look at that poor little toad!
Oh no! Now I cannot stop.
There's the toad...
... and there it's not.