Poetry is my therapy

Sometimes you have to look in the mirror and say, “Is this me?” And sometimes many face their demons  As the misperceived see ghosts That fight the Devil that will eat at your soul  Until your lies destroy your strength, Belittle you;  You’re  weak, no belief.  As I stand on the breach Hanging by a thread, My number’s up; my choice,no other.  I awake as if I had a superpower.   I’ll be Mr Hindsight, but I know I'm the coward Who hid in the trenches in World Wars One & Two.  But I cannot just lay in my coffin. Life goes on - a journey on a path, As I fight for who I am To earn the respect of the friends I have.

The bushes lay dormant  And all is still, as a yellow globe peers down.  Rays of light say begin... Starlings move in black clouds And stage a performance.  Green stalks hail the King of Bethlehem.  A blue mirror sails by  As a pale green tide waves  And birds squawk in joy.  The misty dusk of the past is all forgotten  As eyes from a silvery trail peep out of their houses.  Sleeping nut thieves jump out of their bedding  And mosaics of colour shout.  Merlin waves his magic wand  As the Queen of life pollinates , Shaking to make a pill  That is a remedy for many.  From nature, white pearls  And bells of blue lay a carpet.  I sit on a pub bench with my golden hops  And a feeling of warmth  As I ponder the past winter.

This is to the wicked witch with your false promises - You'd better wave your magic wand and sort it, As the NHS need a massive injection of millions To support people like us. They’re just a bunch of pirates, Robbing from disabled people In their chest on a desert island. Every four years there’s an empty Christmas box Of promises from their party. I'm sick of them - They’re just privileged idiots  Who fiddle their expenses and pocket money In their piggy bank. I'm sick of their game of chess In a game of Brexit - Or they’re playing political marbles. These days it’s like they’re on a biblical mission In search of some wise men bearing no gifts; Or they sit around with stiff upper lips, Drinking whiskey and hope the country’s problems go away. Well this country’s a mess; Our little island owned three-quarters of the world once And fought in three continents With a little bit of help from the Americans - And now they’re selling it off at a car boot sale!

As a star rises the ocean waves in a new day. The mermaids’ retreat is like a frothy swimming pool As the pirates raid the sky Golden particles lie. Nemo’s Sea World looks onwards As the Sims go about their business    They frazzle and fry in brown sauce And leave without all their possessions That will lay there in time. Just another spoilt paradise As the minions tell their offspring Of a better future. As the pool of life suffers

The American smurf stands on top of his hill, A brain made of minced meat With a golden wavy crown. His zombies look onwards As he waves his stick of threats Of the Big Red Button The Planet of the Apes say annihilation With a push, all that has been is nothing As the North Pier creaks With its elaborate fair of toys Kim Ping Pong suddenly seeks a better hand of cards In a game of Poker. Who has the full flush? Life can just go down the toilet. Strike two for oil at the bingo hall Just a game; roulette red or black Place your bets in fear of the inevitable. I watch my TV in the hope that they have a conscience.

Off to the shop to get some milk With my shorts and slippers on. No top - I'm showing my chest off. Hello Humpty Dumpty on the wall As I walk down the road and see Peter Pan and Wendy. I thought I looked cool but Wendy’s your well out there. Hi 5, great dress code But where's your handbag and hairdryer? As I walk on avoiding creepy Freddy Krueger I spot the girl cute as can be "says her name Sandy" get talking and kissing, I look at my phone it's gone past 9 o'clock, I'm in the doghouse when I get home. Summer Dreams ripped at the seams On a council estate as Mrs Robinson looks in disgust. I dodge the potholes to get home the windows black out. Shit forgot to get the electricity card! I fumble around for paracetamols; I'm going to top myself... Off in an ambulance to the local hospital To have my stomach pumped. Great - I have no money. As I walk home in the rain I look in the fridge Some milk, half a loaf of mouldy bread. Mum kee

I'm walking down the street And see this Red Bull walking towards me He looks like Mr Potato Head - Just a spud, As I pick up the courage to ask him his name. He says, “Rooney.” “Rooney who?” “Wayne Rooney.” “Oh! What the hell are you doing in Leicester?” “I'm looking for a kebab shop.” I say, “Dial-a-pizza.” As he asks me my name I say “Becks and Posh.” “You’re not from Brooklyn.” We stand outside Matalan. I tell him me and my wife were the Becks and Posh of the Dominican Republic; We sat there drinking cocktails That cost us a pound - That was the barman’s monthly wage. Two wishes, three different realities; I know the four of us are happy with our reality As I buy a EuroMillions I cross my fingers and make a wish On all the black cats that have crossed me. I think if everyone won the lottery There’d be no-one working in McDonald’s, There’d be no-one to book my holiday And no farmers working the fields With no food in the shops. After I walk home

Go away fly on my hair - I'm not a landing pad! Fly, fly just disappear Here and there, Bloody everywhere; But yet again it’s there in front of me. With a zip it’s on a kamikaze mission for my eye. This is getting annoying! As I get up in a game of chase I have three choices. A secret mission, The ninja is seeking me out As I lay on my bed with no clothes on. The boss darts For my private parts I dare to swat it - Such a pirate! I’m searching on my phone For that new song As I try to kill it with a cheese grater. But I'm aiming for a needle in a haystack As I jump off the windowsill Into a bush. Just piss off! It runs with me around the corner To the bus stop. Thank God, For as I stand there freezing I suddenly realise I'm naked! Who’s looking and what the hell am I going to do? With a casual walk two old ladies are disgusted. Somehow I arrive at my front door And yet it’s frustrating - no key! With a climb of the drainpipe I find safety A

In the Hall of Hawking I meet a man called Stephen Who tells me that Pi equals 3.14159. Buy cheese, a jar of pickled onions and chicken tikka masala And a bar of Milky Way. There’s a place called a Black Hole - I think it sounds like the drain outside the back door; Just a giant plughole really! I'm not Isaac Newton, All I know is if I need to float I take drugs to be high in the cloud of smoke. There are some side effects but I'm addicted. Needles on the floor, a spoon of crystal meth; I'm an addict, I'll do anything to get my buzz. Steal, murder, whatever... I only care for myself, no other. As I watch this film about a man called Stephen Hawking That makes me cry for his bravery To fight such adversity. An amazing achievement - I don't understand it But he had a goal and achieved it, So I am going to rehab and wake up and have a purpose in life Maybe I will achieve my little goal And one day I can look back on it.

I'm lost on the Coventry Ring Road With my satsuma. I may as well be Mickey Mouse lost on Pluto. I'm on a biblical mission To find Three Wise Kings bearing no gifts As I look for buried treasure on a desert island With a stiff upper lip I knock back my Martini - shaken not stirred - I spy 007, yes, Roger Moore In his Aston Martin being chased by Starsky and Hutch! Fast! Get it on YouTube - I could make me a packet! I jump in Lady Penelope’s pink taxi Off to the press to sell my story, But Bungle doesn't believe me; He thinks I'm from Over the Rainbow As I wake up and look out of my flat window....

Cancer Soldiers are looking to erupt in a divided cell As ants multiply repeatedly. Nelson sends his solution of King Richard’s white roses. The soldiers withdraw to the trenches As lava erupts within Jupiter’s spot. I noticed a lump on my breast. I contemplate the unforgivable As I search for a diagnosis. The news is devastating as I panic inside my pandemic. I am frightened as the answer is Chernobyl. I ride the tsunami as I weaken. My belief is fleeting; I gasp, “My number’s up.” 6 months of cave climbing And I ask the question “God, why me? What did I do to deserve this?” I search for meaning and reason, I’m angry and bitter, I cannot forgive myself. Could I have spotted it earlier? I lose hope; I'm slowly drowning in an endless war And I know I will not beat this one. Every taken minute is a gift, I know I’ll be just another statistic. My loved ones are my rallying strength. I wait in my submarine and look out into the distance To be delivered to the

Anxiety The bungee jump is petrifying; My plane is crashing; I'm hyperventilating  As I abseil from the highest cloud. Heart racing, I want to escape From the parachute of life. As I walk the tightrope alone In a circus of insanity, I am glued to the seat In a sea of spiders. No space in my everlasting black hole; I'm freaking out, trapped in my prison cell, As I self-explode in dynamite. No silence in the library As I sweat on my sunbed For relaxation. I'm nervous and naked in the shower. Fast - dodge the bullets! I’m suffocating in a rush-hour tube train And I freeze inside an igloo. I scream inside, surrounded by invisible people As Count Dracula rattles on my coffin. In my bottle of self-medication I'm drowning with exhaustion.

Sun cream at the barbecue Oh no! I'm on fire! Fast, lemonade put me out! Great - I've got sunburn. Into the paddling pool; Smoking, so relaxing. I sit on the beach with the flies On the kiddies’ donkey rides. More sun cream needed; My skin feels like sandpaper Everywhere, In my hair; I rub myself raw with my towel But it’s still there, In my toes and in my bits! Now a wasp on a invisible string, I karate chop it in a mad rage “Go away!” I run for cover in the water, Shorts glued to my body. Quick, is anyone looking? Time for an ice-cream it Dripping off my chin. Oh God, brain freezing- Back to the barbecue For some charcoal chicken, Yum yum! On one hot day in Skegness.

That noisy witch of black clouds Whispers twisted mysteries. She busies herself in glee from her ice-cream corner, Her hollow Judas lips eagerly spring From her empty cauldron. A black crow lisps And secret snakes slither. The wounded bleed in seized castles As spies peep from Noah’s Ark, Carrier pigeons bring messages. Buddhas of forgiveness latch deeper With the throw of lucky dice. The haunted grow new seeds And pipe testaments As scouts look for answers. Caesar’s table flows with riches, Golden trumpets announce Morris Dancers And their white handkerchiefs billow on Ilkley Moor.

In the lemonade bubbles of a carousel I Google as I float around on my melting ice pole With strawberries and cream. I cook and fry in suncream; Within a sauna I'm boiling in sweat. In the Sahara I see a mirage Of camels, milkshakes and pop-up umbrellas, As my cocktail teases me for Sex on the Beach. The breeze of a washing machine, Fragrance of salt sea water l ride the sea horses As fire engines beat down on me. A fan cools me on my sunbed; I look like a cherry on a merry-go-round. I'm swimming in my Black Russian With the summer clothing of Michael Portillo and Mr Bean, With sun-kissed Hawaiian shirts. McEnroe shouts the odds As DJ Pete Tong raves, As I sit on the beach in Bermuda.

A cold dark hand slaps us in the face with such force over and over again As a graveyard of bears stand, mock and haunt us with a eerie silence. The groaning wolves’ howls get fiercer and fiercer.  In the theatre the brown and golden elves jump in a merry dance and skip. A single halo appears and smiles down as the scouts make their last raid. The freezer door opens and fairies begin to drop and lie in shivering silk As icicles spread their long fingers. Red Riding Hood flutters and hops stitch to stitch.  Marbles peer hail the hoot. Mirrors stream, Jack Frost creeks and squirrels at the land of lifelessness As he has the last laugh.

Sweet Lady Liberty of power, With such majesty and belief Of Madonna like a prayer With white surrender, Marilyn of beauty; And Mother Teresa’s gift of rose petals of Cleopatra And Celine Dion’s Titanic; The tragedy of Whitney Houston’s voice everlasting; Secret whispers of diamond Diana’s surrender And Olivia Newton-John’s summer dreams with Gracie Fields we forgive you. The forgotten Martin Luther King’s freedom And the imprisonment of Nelson Mandela. Bonnie and Clyde gung-ho attitude and. No surrender Winston Churchill; With Last Post for the forgotten soldier.  Who Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury And Gene Pitney Something’s Gotten Hold of my Heart Angels of Robbie Williams’ and heartbreaker of Dolly Parton And love me tender Elvis Presley With genius Mozart’s composing and Shakespeare’s insanity For the life of a tigerlily and ever-living orchid. And the bees’ gift of life As Gary Barlow’s plays million love songs later. I bleed deeper with one such thorny

I start digging myself a hole. I want to stop but I go on and on. Now I look for a invisible wet ladder; I start climbing but I do not get anywhere.  Deeper and deeper I go. Now it rains, then a blizzard.  More bricks as I reach out. cement falls, but still I fight With every bit of strength I have left. No energy, no belief; Maybe someone will walk by and stop me.

As I go out of the stage door I see before me a Roman amphitheatre With a half-crescent moon wall; A desolate forgotten place of weeds and dandelions. As the stage lights flicker the golden trumpets announce the arrival of the gladiators. The dweebs begin to mock as the chariots of fire race by. We stand inside a metal-fenced prison. The Royal family wave the show on In the long-forgotten Roman amphitheatre.

Why does a microwave go ping, why not ring or ding,why do all the worlds in the universe go round the same way, why are they not flat or square, all these questions running round in my mind, like slow little drips these poems and rhymes pop out of my mind, spinning tops and sewing boxes in my thoughts. I can't sleep, it never stops. All these questions and poems and rhymes inside the windmills of my mind.

A day out for the Bradgate Writers Unit at the zoo.  As the cuckoo clock rings out, It’s time to jump out of my coffin And put on my Primark suit. Down the apples and pears to Barbie and Ken’s roadside cafe For a tankard of hot brown soup. Then out in my space-suit As I skip and hop like the Michelin Man. I arrive at the farm run by the NHS; All the animals will be there. As I push open the hospital door To a 1960’s iKEA conference room With Mr Funny, Mr Silly, Mr Tickle, Mr Greedy, Mr Happy, Miss Busy, Miss Impossible, Goldilocks and the three bears And Snow White asleep in the corner. We all wait for the clipboard manager as she’s late.  Miss Scatty Head is never on time. Tarzan announces the arrival of Jane; All the apes and chimpanzees go mad. The Queen shouts, “Order order in the court, This is a library not a clown’s circus!” We all take our betting slips and Take out our feathers in ink. We write in Latin like Pam Ayres and Shakespeare. As we all stand up one

I look in the mirror of life And see a former shadow of myself; An angry, bitter, selfish former self Two sides, Jekyll and Hyde On a yellow brick journey. One side, two reflections within each other. Two choices in one journal, Two sides of a penny. As I roll the dice of good and evil Both stand on the same side, The decision will only be known When you open the door And look in the mirror.