I used to write poems before focusing on Stories. Here are some of them. |
Dragon and Man His scales glistened red, Muscles flexed with ease Full of majestic pride Beast like man and man like beast The coal flows in these veins of Wales, and of Man The brimstone of the Dragons That once roamed the land The dragon is full of honour Full of character Full of strength Like the Celts on the battlefield Of the land, they once did defend The Dragons and the Welsh are one in the same Their bloodlines twisted, in glory and fame Druids, Bards, Warriors and Kings All are Welshmen, and all are Kin And all live their lives victoriously By the Dragon, within. Depression There is a hole in me where I should be, A Darkness inside that wants all of me, “Life’s not so bad” they promise, Over and over again So am I selfish? To feel this internal sadness and pain Is it selfish of me to feel so helpless? My life is comfortable, a doddle, a treat But who am I when I am incomplete? A man of mystery, unto myself I don’t know who I am Who do I tell? The Darkness, it swirls and creeps “Why burden other with your pain?” it shrieks So once again, I retreat Back into the Darkness, my silence feeds the creep. Tablets and Trinkets and “Chemical Balance.” The Darkness cackles at medical arrogance The remedies are a reminder that he still hides, Waiting. This is my poetry, my secret release, Words on paper as dark as he, A real expression that frightens us both, as my words are emotional oaths. On day he and I will finally meet, To create the new man that I could be! I’ll face the Darkness, and one of us will win Either I’ll become whole again Or I will swing. . . Identity Who are you? What are you? Is this you? In full, can you describe you? Me, Myself and I I am me What am me? A description? of me? Look deeper, at yourself. How are you yourself? Are you yourself? Describe your self. Am I to overthink me? Do I know myself? I am who I am! Is myself not enough? Who is not important to you? What is not important to you? This is not important to you? Yourself, is not important to you? Who I am? Is important. . . What I am? Is also, just as, important. . . What is the importance of this? I- am important too. . . You don’t know who you are? But it is important to you. You don’t know what you are? But it is important to you. The importance of this is to think, think about the am, in “Who am I?” How can “am” be important, if you’re not to know who am is? Can you identify yourself? “Me” is thousands of words written, and thousands yet to be, and more. What I am? Is everything and nothing, “am” is a constant evolution of mind. Me! I am important, to me. Identity, of one, is the finite details, of the infinite possibilities of life. I am who I am, but who I am, is not all I am, or all of me, or all I could be! Good Answer. . . Waves Love is like an Ocean, It can be calm on the surface, But deep with currents and swells, I don’t know this from love itself, But from scripts and sonnets wrote by someone, somewhere else Love is like the Waves, A constant back and forth, a dance, Between two who take the plunge. Waves that can slowly caress the crystal sands And break down mountains at a given glance. With high tides and low tides, Love, it comes and goes, Like the waters of the world, You are yet to fall as far as you can fall, And you keep on falling, deeper and faster, To the light, that shines the way, To this day, your love is like the Ocean, If you let it, It can take your breath away. And even if you're yet to be the catch, Hook, Line and Sinker, Your time is yet to come, You just wait and see, After all, There are plenty more fish in the sea. |