Here I am reading from my latest poetry collection, Broken Roses. It’s a more darker collection than After the Rain or my other writings. It deals with death, solitude, loneliness, suicide, darkness, aphantasia, insomnia, love and memories.
Thanks for watching.
She will have her way as the slow progress of nature moves ever onwards.
Time is irrelevant for the leaf because it knows one day
it will become a tree, a rose or even a mountain
as we struggle in the mulch of our own awakening.
Sometimes we don’t feel like smiling
yet when someone smiles at us we nearly always smile back.
At times we need help to get out of the rut we’re in
to burn away those clouds fogging our view
of not only what’s out there but what’s inside us
so with a little help and a little effort on our part
we can open up and reveal.
Our smiles radiate feelings and warmth
which gives us an inner glow when we receive them
therefore the more we smile the more the universe hugs us with her love.
my brain is dead
a rotting lump of lard
it wakes this morning
in the throes of emptiness
it has drank my coffee
and nibbled a nibble
it has opened the curtains
dived in the shower
drank another coffee
and nibbled another nibble
so here it is
writing an empty thing
a parched breath of morning
a slice of cake
without the cream!
Flowers are amazing creatures
they react to, and follow light
and what are smiles
but little torches of love.
Smiles are contagious, and one little smile
can illuminate and cause a whole avalanche of smiles
Also, one smile can show us the way to unseen possibilities within us.
Just one little smile.
We sometimes find ourselves
lost in a conundrum of dreams
we ponder, we peruse
and then we wonder why
and how and when, etc, etc
till our minds are so full
of bullshit we begin sprouting
young saplings of thought
all kinds of new ideas and ideologies
pychologies and philosophies
poems, songs, words and dreams.
Some kind of
where we become trapped
in the void of unknowing
where the needle is stuck
and the world around us lets us go
and on and on we go
believing that if we reach
we can touch the sky.
Our feet are rooted in bullshit
our hearts, skin, blood and bone
get their nourishment from that gloop
strive to make sense of the loss
and here, our souls
they are the buds of truth
waiting for us to stop
and to believe
that the only way to reach the sky
is to know we are the sky.