Mountain

Stuck between its too late and it’s only just started

In the middle I will sit until

I am rescued

Eyes closed dipping my feet in both ponds

The best years are to come but all the best years have gone

Summer sunshine met with holy matrimony

Vows to myself to remain youthful

Whilst my skin glows but my bones ache

Wondering if wisdom has made me feel older

I’ve felt so much in so little time

So I will sit with my toes in freezing water until

I can’t feel

To climb the mountain barefoot and

Take me back to where it all began

Waves

The waves washed me away

Fickle and fragile I fled with hope

Of not drowning with these thoughts of

What I must do and should have said

The apprehension of time passing

How the waves carry it away so fleetingly

Before you know it you are 30

Innocence now swallowed by the animals

The same animals who set me free

In dreams of becoming Cesar Milan

Where my whispers reached a thousand ears

I spoke softly but never enough

Words clouded, forcing rain down fast

Making tides stronger

Taking me away

I think, I know

I think sometimes I feel too much

I wonder if that makes me weak

Emotions stand tall and I’m falling at their feet

I think I’m scared of failure

It eats me up inside

So to avoid that feeling, sometimes I just sit by

I think I look for how to be different

Instead of appreciating myself

I want happiness to glow from me, to be my biggest wealth

I think sometimes my poems aren’t good enough

I’m never going to make it great

Spread my words far and wide to help people who can relate

I know sometimes I feel too much

But I am certain that makes me strong

The greatest gift in life, is to feel the lyrics in a song

I don’t need to be afraid of failing

As better opportunities aren’t always exposed

Sometimes sat waiting behind the door that was just closed

I know I don’t need to be different

I give off the energy I embrace

As I only take in positivity, that’s what I will display

This is the best poem I’ve ever written

As it speaks the greatest volumes

Just the simplest words sung to the catchiest tune

Male Gaze

We base our lives around the male gaze

Which look will get us the most praise

I wonder how beautiful our minds would shine

If their authentic selves were to align

Pretty is always our ticket to respect

The absence of beauty returns a lot less

If that is the case I don’t want the ticket

I will rip it up and then I will bin it

What power if we showed what’s deep inside

That side to ourselves that we try to hide

That side to ourselves that we try to suppress

In order to gain that bit more respect

If the only ticket to equality is to be pretty

The only ticket that will get us into the city

Where only the successful & beautiful seem to reside

I will happily walk for the rest of my life

Maybe…

I wonder what I could’ve been

A version of myself that remains to be seen

I really hope she will come out soon

I’m leaving her enough room

Maybe the world isn’t ready

It’s now forced me to take it steady

I can’t shine forever if I use all my light

I need to save some in order to stay bright

Maybe I’ll preserve it and carry it on with me

The brightest star you’ll ever see

Maybe in another lifetime I do exist

Fulfil all of the things my mind made me miss

Those nights that you wish would never end

Listening to music with your favourite friend

Maybe one day I’ll become one of those nights

A star in the sky that will always shine bright

Look down on myself laughing with friends

This time I’ll make sure the night never ends

To Heaven on Thistlecrack

The clock reached 9am and it was time to go, 

where that is, I do not know, 

an ice cream on the beach with a chocolate flake, 

as the tide rolls in

a beautiful painting this would make, 

maybe a garden with a towering oak, 

beside that a still pond – a frog will croak, 

a sunflower field – being surrounded by yellow, 

a roaring bonfire – to toast a marshmallow, 

a setting of beauty – the fall of autumnal leaves, 

a vision of wonderland – to how I perceive, 

the taste of a crunchy apple or a sugar sweet pear, 

wherever it is I may go, 

Thistlecrack take me there. 

Ice Men

A weeping voice trembling through words, 

A symphony we can only sing, alone with the birds,

Tongue tied with terror, triumph a lifetime away, 

A mask to be worn for the day,

A shield protecting our organs from the bitter chill

An icicle slicing through skin is the worst thing to feel

Frozen tears, burning cheeks 

Icicles forming, there for weeks 

Not melting as we are made tough 

As men we will remain rugged and rough 

Oh what a life

A stone cold persona to represent our strife 

Walking barefoot through the grass with thorns in our feet 

Although in pain, we shall never speak 

Stay silent and strong 

To this group we must belong 

Let the pain resonate within our veins

As men we will remain the same

We must never tell all

As vulnerability will make us fall

The sun will shine but we shall not melt 

For our armour is our safety belt  

Wonders Of The World

It took me all day to get out of bed,

I called into work and told them I had a sore head,

That last line was partly true,

But sore is an ambiguous word to use.

I wanted to go swimming in Iceland’s hot springs,

I’ve always imagined these beautiful things,

I wonder if I can create the same feeling in my kitchen,

If I just shut my eyes and listen,

I flicked the kettle down and the steam engulfed me,

The sweetest smell of herbal tea, 

I poured a waterfall into my mug,

Open my eyes and took the biggest glug,

I had hoped the heat would remind of a summers day,

Being captured by those blazing sun rays.

Next I wanted to go to the London Eye,

The view looked so beautiful from up high,

I put my sunglasses on to protect my sight,

From the strong beam of sunlight,

A glare on the window made my pupils sore,

That last line was partly true,

But sore is an ambiguous word to use,

I prefer the word enlightened,

In more ways than one my senses were heightened,

I got down off my roof and exited the ride,

Next I think I will go to the lakeside,

I collected crunchy leaves and conkers in my rucksack,

Filled it right up and put it on my back,

I got home and scraped the mud off my shoe,

Even though my bath tub was brand new,

I tipped the contents into my gleaming white tub,

The sweet smell of soil made my eyes well up,

I ran the water freezing cold, 

Dipped my feet into nature’s mould,

I’m starting to think I am quite artistic,

For now I’ll just relax in the Lake District.