I remember writing these scribblings as if it was yesterday.
I wanted to get it right straight off but it was impossible so I wrote a number of things. It is very important so I had to look at all aspects. Each piece was right on it’s day.
(January 2013)
The beauty of having a voice
is the relief
of freeing burdensome thoughts from your mind.
of freeing burdensome thoughts from your mind.
(24 January 2013)
Words fill up the spaces in my thoughts.
Sometimes
random, sometimes linked,
But always invasive.
No matter how hard,
How hard I try,
They stick inside until the end of the day.
The more I seem to want it,
The more I crave,
The harder it is to evacuate this lexical craze.
Spinning and swirling is a word in my mind.
The power of words will sometimes leave me behind.
Hoping and trying to set the word free.
Hoping that more words don’t gang up on me.
The freedom is there a word can bring to the stage.
Its imposition and annoyance can make you fill up with rage.
What comes first the word or the thought?
Or maybe it’s a marriage that can never be fraught?
The harder I think the easier it gets
For cracks to appear for the words to slide in.
I’m always at my weakest when the hope beacon shines,
Or when excitement forces words in under enemy lines.
(5 February 2013)
Repetitive thoughts trapped with nowhere to go.
But always invasive.
No matter how hard,
How hard I try,
They stick inside until the end of the day.
The more I seem to want it,
The more I crave,
The harder it is to evacuate this lexical craze.
Spinning and swirling is a word in my mind.
The power of words will sometimes leave me behind.
Hoping and trying to set the word free.
Hoping that more words don’t gang up on me.
The freedom is there a word can bring to the stage.
Its imposition and annoyance can make you fill up with rage.
What comes first the word or the thought?
Or maybe it’s a marriage that can never be fraught?
The harder I think the easier it gets
For cracks to appear for the words to slide in.
I’m always at my weakest when the hope beacon shines,
Or when excitement forces words in under enemy lines.
(5 February 2013)
Repetitive thoughts trapped with nowhere to go.
Thoughts blocked at the mouth by some invisible force
Bounce round my head with ever increasing speed,
Looking for an exit point to burst through.
Sadly no release sees them couple together,
Creating pairs then more,
Giving birth to destructive thoughts trapped in a cerebral breeding pit.
Thoughts within thoughts.
(18 February 2013)
Floating inside, Occupying space.
Some have no reason, Some have no place.
Sometimes wonder if there’s any way out
For the misguided words that hover about.
Perched near my lips, so close to escaping,
They turn into noise described as grating
On ears of those positions around
In unfortunate places, exposed to the sound.
(16 April 2013)
Stilted thoughts echo round my head.
They dance and weave between each other –
Not conversing, not acknowledging each other.
How is it possible for separate thoughts to coexist in such a manner?
Trying to track their path is futile.
Consumed mental energy drives me to the point of exhaustion.
Surely such a state would deplete thoughts?
Sadly not.
Bounce round my head with ever increasing speed,
Looking for an exit point to burst through.
Sadly no release sees them couple together,
Creating pairs then more,
Giving birth to destructive thoughts trapped in a cerebral breeding pit.
Thoughts within thoughts.
(18 February 2013)
Floating inside, Occupying space.
Some have no reason, Some have no place.
Sometimes wonder if there’s any way out
For the misguided words that hover about.
Perched near my lips, so close to escaping,
They turn into noise described as grating
On ears of those positions around
In unfortunate places, exposed to the sound.
(16 April 2013)
Stilted thoughts echo round my head.
They dance and weave between each other –
Not conversing, not acknowledging each other.
How is it possible for separate thoughts to coexist in such a manner?
Trying to track their path is futile.
Consumed mental energy drives me to the point of exhaustion.
Surely such a state would deplete thoughts?
Sadly not.
