To The Sensitive Ones.



The Architecture of Sleep.

You hesitate
As I watch, your movements give you away
You don’t like leaving, consciousness
You don’t like, releasing control
But this is our space, built for this purpose
And as movement stills, as breathing slows
I watch over you, over the bed-clothes, over the pillows
Every night is different, I don’t always get this right
But I hold down the sheets,
from blowing away in the gales of your dreams
Retain the pillow just under your turning head
And hold away the sunrise for as long as I can
I work all night, I keep your sleep
And take my own rest during the day


[ this is my response to this poem by Nina, go check out her words as well ]




Time to stop running
Turn around and face the fears
The darkness, the demons
Find my true path
Refocus my efforts
Running is exhausting
Everything that was holding me back
Become the stepping stones
Up to a new level of being me

Being tough is tiring
Being strong through struggle
Is exhausting

I need quiet time
To neutralise my thoughts
To find my place
Find myself
And make decisions that will benefit me

I will choose
When my energy needs to focus inwards
And when and with who
My energy is shared
Some people will have difficulty with this
And I will need to rely
On the protective shell covering my back

And Then a Voice.

She was looking at me
Although I couldn’t hear the words
I could see a face shape
Her generous hair
But the haze of my semi-dream state
Left particulars indistinct

Lie to me
Tell me everything will be ok
Make me believe you
Say anything that will take me away from here
Guide and transport this lost soul
Create hope

Then a voice came
“Only you can make the changes you need to, Whatever they are.”


Focussing on moving
On stepping forwards
Each and every day
To not slip backwards,
Became running
Away from the pain
Away from myself,
And I got so lost
Before I realised
What was happening.
And now
I don’t know whether
To keep running blindly? or
Scared of where I ended up
Scared of what I’m running from
Scared of all the imagined demons
Unsure of everything
Life – exists no more
Survival is all I know.


[ I pressed these words, and then found this from 10 days ago ]

Feeling Somethings.

Trying to find Me, is
Just Ghost Stories
Scared, of
Cold play relationships.
Dreams of Oceans have Me
Blind and Lame
Calling out my rescuer’s name
While Friendship Support
Walks away, Oblivious.
Hiding, Hibernation
Draws me inwards
But there be Dragons
While I need Wagons, to
Journey and bear Loads
I need Magic, lift and
Carry me to Midnight
Finding True Love there, in
Another’s Arms, or
Memories of my own.
Always in My Head, Oh
Flows the Ink
That draws many stories
Always presenting
A Sky Full of Stars
Visions of Paradise, and
Sun on my Eyelids.
But Dreams
Defy Reality and Time
Lose me, Lift me,
Burden and Gift me
Dreams of Me, are
Perhaps the only Truth I see.

(24 July 2015)


[ Finally finding my voice after a week. These words grew from recent thoughts, feelings, writings, dreams, and the music I was listening to while composing this today. (There are connections within for fans of a certain band.) ]

Mis-timed Heart-beat.

Reminders of what had been
of complete fulfilment
now passed
now only haunting echoes

Her weakness was to love
fully and truly
to engage her whole self
in the moment of dreams

But reality is not the dream world
the cruelty of timing, of location
forever scratches its nails
across the blackboard of her memory


[ my response to eledette’s latest poetry, Besieged ]