Searching 

Sometimes the days 

They feel so dull,

I would do anything 

To keep my mind going,

To kill of these boredom,

When I am supposed 

To be blissfully happy,

I am just unnatural,

To my instincts, 

Instead I fantasy,

Of things that bring me joy. 

Prose for Thought

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Morning

The morning has broken,

I hear the pitter pattrer of feet,

here comes trouble,

get read to be jumped,

they come together,

solid as a team,

with a goal,

ultimately to wake

the adults,

how dare they sleep.

They jump and bounce,

even pull the sheets,

OK, I give in,

well done you have succeeded,

your work is done,

now you don’t care,

because the TV is calling you,

well mummy is zomfied,

and ready to start the day.

Prose for Thought

Bag of nerves 

Here we go again,

Shaking like a leaf,

My bag I’d full of anxiety,

Too distressed for all this,

I’m so tense,

I fear I may snap,

I can’t stay still,

I’m on the move,

I’m so scared,

Nothing is worse,

Then this battle within.

I feel flustered and jittery,

The shakes won’t go,

Till I wear me down 

So much so,

The exhaustion 

Acts as a buffer,

Till it starts all over again,

My neurotic mind 

Reaches new levels,

I  am afraid of the future 

Wondering when

It will stop. 

Prose for Thought

Hidden Darkness

Hey readers,

I wrote this poem when I was deep within clinical depression in 2009 and really struggling with life. I was scared and suicidal. It was a dark place, the only thing that helped was sleep and words.

The fear feels real,

you are lost in the dark hole,

all alone and totally isolated,

everything is numb,

yet feeling so much,

my outlook is gloomy,

feel like I am drowning,

deep within me,

I am the enemy,

screaming at me,

I hate myself,

yet I can’t shake it off.

I fear I am trapped in this melancholia,

where all my senses are dampened,

with no outlook,

other then the dark days,

that lay ahead.

I have to fight,

my mind and motivation,

my heart is so heavy,

no wonder I ache,

maybe one day,

brightness will make an appearance.

Cheers for reading X

Prose for Thought

Prison 

Hey readers,

This poem is about mummy prison, relentlessness, change and deals by with sick kid and it never stops but sometimes I just want a break before I scream if I have to watch another octonauts. Some days as parenting goes is shit, it is not beautiful and sometimes it is OK to cry as a parent. The struggle is really and constantly battling the way though all this greyness.

Sometimes my soul is dead,

All it wants is something,

I aching to be entertained,

Instead it’s you walls I see again,

Day in  day out,

I’m crying to get out.

I feel part of me is lost,

I need to get out,

Before I break into tiny pieces.

Is this meant to be like this,

Because no one tells you nothing,

It is so painful it is devastating,

Sometimes I just need to escape,

Before the walls cave in on me,

All you hear us me shout,

I want to get out.
Cheers for reading X

Prose for Thought

diamond geezer

Hey readers,

Here is a poem inspired by a person I know. I am not going to say who it is but they certainly made an impression on me.

Your a bit of a diamond geezer,

Your too cool to interview,

No one will brainwash you,

into fluttering away the thoughts,

that make you strong in character,

you not scared,

water may dry up,

put your solid as a rock.

At times there is hatred or misjudged,

people maybe offended by you,

maybe because they are intimated,

your bold and strong,

no weakness gets through to you,

the only times curtains will close,

is at your burial.

Cheers for reading X

Prose for Thought

Be Still Tea

Hey readers,

One of my favourite things in life is a warm cup of  Rosie Lee. There is something comforting about tea and like the saying by Arthur Wing Pinero goes, ” Where there’s tea, there’s hope”.

 

Tea, Cup, Saucer, Drink, Cuppa, Brew

So why not write a poem about tea and all it’s loveliness!

When I think of tea,

I think of positivity,

some atheletes need strengh,

well I just need a hot cuppa,

then I feel fabiulous

and ready to go,

you see it bewith me,

from years ago,

although I do stop,

at fish tea,

which terrifys me.

In saying that,

I like a good strong brew,

none of this flat tasteless types,

but not to hot,

to cause ravage with a broken cup.

slip slowly and enjoy,

the aromas of tea,

feel your  belly warm,

with delight,

there always be comfort,

in a mug of tea.

Cheers for reading X

Prose for Thought

spaghetti unwined

Hey readers,

I was eating spaghetti today and it promoted me to write about it as you do. But look deeper the layers of thought of an eating disorder that crops up. i will promise one day I will write a lighthearted poem with no dark undertones.

Sometimes spaghetti can be quite charming,

squealing around the plate at me,

maybe because I have a weakness,

but I would rather have a carb then a hamburger,

any old day of the week is fine by me.

In the mist of my hazy love affair,

where my emotions and food are complex,

that I feel perplexed to understand my weakness,

for all things gluttony .

Even though it at times makes me squeal with delight,

I will always struggle with being weak,

it will catch me when I am desperate,

for the love of food can not be matched,

to any other relationship,

that is manifested with hate and love.

Cheers for reading X

Prose for Thought

Hit The Curb!

Hey readers,

I wrote a poem about feeling overwhelmed and the thoughts that feel so scary they take me to a dark place where I feel stuck and suffocated. I have little confidence which at times due to my autism, I question everything because I constantly I am messing up and misinterpreting causing me to self-doubt absolutely everything. Sometimes it is just the things that have acclimated over the years which after trying so long make me want to breakdown. It eats my guts up and have turned everything into something more deeper then it really is. So, when everything feels like it is broken down and I can’t verbally master the skills, I write, it might be incoherent, it might not be written well but at least it is raw and from the heart.

 

 

Sometimes I just hit bottom,

staring into oblivion,

my mind is broken,

when communication has failed,

sometimes i’m not strong enough,

I crumble deep within,

I doubt everything 

Nothing is what it seems,

I am screaming inside,

but no one can hear me call,

I am locked in this mess,

pleading to get out.

Communication is weak,

it’s all mangled up,

trying to make anything clear,

is unreachable right now.

 

 

Cheers for reading X

Prose for Thought

Spectrum Sunday