Old Ghosts

Time

To reflect; gaze into the mirror

the stories of yesterday, hazily shimmer

like looking through fog at a distant star

the image blurred, the edges softened by ageing eyes

old ghosts, let them lie

forgive the past and the tales it told

enjoy the future, that in your hand you hold

Time

To see the youthful face of those days

replaced by the wisened figure that stands in his place

raise a glass, share a toast

forgive the memories; the ones that hurt the most

old ghosts, let them lie

have the time of your life, smile more don't sigh

Time

To look through the looking glass at the future you hold

let your story unfold, allow it to be told - let the sun shine down, rays of gold

leave old ghosts in yesterdays shadows, as you walk into tomorrows clear glow

life; still so much to learn so let the drinks flow. Enjoy the show

And as the clock strikes, let fire light the skies

bring a bit of daylight to midnight

as yesterday dies and tomorrow is born in front of our eyes

let those old ghosts lie

Thanks For Reading.

Peace & Love.

Happy New Year.

Kyle.

 

Season of memories

I remember the first blooms of spring
a love so new, the buds just flowering
the first sprouts of green through the dust coloured lands
the first time we touched - hand against hand
nervously waiting, tensing inside
to see if the new born feelings were shared or denied

I remember the embers of that summer
as they floated, endlessly it seemed
aimlessly into the dark recesses of my dreams
the candyfloss soft embrace of late night kisses
twilight warmth rages into daylight heat and love's sweet blisses
an inferno of passions in our youthful eyes
memories shared under red hot skies

I remember the autumn, its golden ways
as the days drew in and the sun burned an orange blaze
we danced under those sun rays, kissing and holding onto each others gaze
even as the trees dropped their amber leaves
we never took a second to drop our beats
our hearts so in time, in tune they drum
over those final days of autumn

I remember the chill as winter fell
a somber way to break a spell
the kiss you stole left me cold
for you took it from another soul
the heart you broke wasn't yours to break
lost love left me to ache
a cracked icy lake of tears greeted the cold sun at daybreak
   
I memorised the year, let it seep into every pore
for each tear, every bellowed roar, never again I swore
but then the sun rose and set, its heat flowed and helped me reset
I learned to forget, let go of the pain and regret
and slowly the first shoots of spring, were flowering again

Thanks For Reading.

Peace & Love.

Kyle.

Belong?

Am I just a bit part in the story?
An NPC in your RPG, with no lines to speak
am I the character that is killed in the first act
before the curtain falls
as the interval drinks spill, my tale lost to all

Are you the last one standing
am I the supporting act, the warm up artist to keep the crowd from disbanding
a third place runner in a field of two
the last minute rewrite, my lines on the cutting room floor - never to view
my role, left holding the door
whilst the crowd clamour through, begging for more
I'm standing at an entrance to a place that I don't fit
a party I'm not invited to; not a guest on the list

Am I a late replacement to a last minute date
the blank slate, a blank faced nobody that just sits in space
back row singer in a chorus of song
no voice of my own, no-one turned the microphone on
no words to read, no script to follow
just here to make up numbers, all feels so hollow

Am I second rate
or third in line; do I wait?
born too soon or a bit too late
is my mind too much or too little to please
it feels like a disease, this place fills me with unease

Am I last in line to a throne that will never be mine
one that I don't even want or have no designs to climb
am I supposed to be here, or did I take the wrong pathway before
should have taken my time, checked it was the right door
maybe this is the way it should be
a tale that I cant see;  the ending - still all a mystery
 

So I bide my time, watch the story unfold
let the pages fly by, find a place to behold
see where the story goes
who knows may end up the star of the show

Thanks For Reading.

Peace & Love. 

Kyle.

To all the non gaming geeks out there, 

NPC - A Non Playable Character,

RPG - Role Playing game!

Treading Water

Where do we go from here
treading water for too many years
keeping afloat; though never moving
feet are tired but the water's soothing

If I stay then there is no big act three
no final arc, no resolution to life's mystery 

I'll just one day sink under the waves
a slow decent into a watery grave
If I swim after the wrong star, I could be lost
all for a shot in the dark, a chance of hope, is that worth the cost?
 

Do I try to swim against the current?
have I the strength? muscles already ache from years of torment
what if I try to fight, what comes next
if I try will I be pulled into the depths
by unseen hands, or some Lovecraftian curse, 

an unseen force under the shimmering waves of course
a watery end to the stories discourse

Do I scream for aid, don't think my lungs can hold that much air
and I've not seen a boat of plane passing near
just me alone, an island afloat
an island of man, in distant waters - somewhere remote

Are those sharks in the water, looks like a fin reflecting in the sun
but my story shouldn't be over, I fear its barely even begun

I cant keep treading here, just kicking my feet
when the beasts of the deep are circling, ready for a meaty treat

Thanks For Reading.

Peace & Love.

Kyle

Sober

Thoughts reflect on a clear lake

a clean break, through the icy sheen that you mistake

for a good time, a life line left longing for cloud nine

the reflective mind searching for reason, some grand design

A shot of fire

to dull your icy mind

to burn the thoughts you find

like a photograph in a fireplace

forever burning, the embers singed into the mind

memories of forever, burning so unkind

Through the maze

of drunken days

alleyways pass as I stagger sideways

lost nights

last nights, lost fights

staggered falls on the side streets of life

The morning pint

the mourning sign

an old pub sign creaks in the dawn light

nightmare last calls

echo as we fall

fall to our knees

fall as we fail to beat the disease

Sobering, the way that life lights the path

sometimes, takes a stroll in the dark, to finally see the aftermath

of a world where you can't live without the internal wrath

When the alcohol has drowned

and the sun burned down

when the moon turns around - walking away

stars blink out, showing their dismay

Faces leer at you, with a sense of unease

as if you have a contagious disease

a parasite feeding on the flesh

an illness, not a human being making slow progress

The world stops turning

as your whole universe is spinning

yet still you reach for the bottle to control the ill feeling

its the only way to fit in

You no longer know your own mind

thoughts come, like a crowd from outside

shouting you down

or egging you on to get another round

slowly digging your own hole in the ground

Liquor burns like fire

stings the raw throat as life starts to expire

like salt, lemon and lime

rubbed into the cuts that life supplied somewhere down the line

long ago in a different space and time.

Thanks For Reading.

Peace & Love.

Kyle

Christmas 2019

The last few days have been extremely difficult, My mother has been in and out of hospital with breathing difficulties, so have had to spend a lot of time away from this side of my life.
Times like this remind me what a great job our National Health Service workers do. Working all hours - dealing with so many people at the hardest times in their lives.
People often moan about waiting times and such like, but when you see the staff almost dead on their feet from a gruelling shift you know that this isn't caused by a lack of care. It is the shortages in staffing numbers, the lack of funding that goes into our great system.

So this will probably be my last post before Christmas, So I wish everyone a great time.
The last year has been difficult to say the least, losing my father in April and having to find the mental and physical strength to get through life since has been tough, but I have had a lot of help from some Amazing friends and supporters, you all know who you are,  I want to thank all of you.
But the year has also been filled with positive moments.

My first ever live performance, a poetry slam win, some books that I'm very proud of.
and into the new year there will hopefully be more new experiences and high points.
In January I will be part of the Some-Antics Poetry Slam championship, all of the winners of the last year will be competing and it is going to be a great night, so if anyone is in the Leicester area on January 3rd, then please come along - The talent on display is amazing.

Hoping to begin work on my next poetry book fairly early into the new year, I have some rough Ideas so will keep you informed on this page and via Facebook and Twitter accounts.

Thank You for following my work, it is much appreciated, There will be much more in future!
Peace & Love.
Kyle.

Sometimes (With Video and Live Performance)

Sometimes the face lies
smiles portrayed disguise the rotten feelings inside
hide behind a mask; tied over flooded teary eyes
He smiles, A bit too much, and way too wide

Sometimes the life of the party feels dead within
filled with internal dread, beneath the costumes and the tales he spins
hiding in plain sight his act too loud, his dancing too proud
the pain he feels at his life running out

Sometimes the one that wants to help, to be the guiding star
the bright spark in a sky so dark, is the one calling for help from afar
so lost in the world, he just cannot cope
feels alone, left on a shelf of no hope

Sometimes the one who offers his heart on a page - love his gift
the one that will always be there when you need help or a lift
always offers his arms to hold
sometimes he is the one that needs a hand as his world feels grey and cold

Sometimes the one who will always talk, always there when you need
the one who will always speak, replies with speed
often sits by his phone at night
waiting in the pale moonlight for someone to call and ask if HE is alright

Sometimes the one that stands on the edge
tear filled eyes glazed over, sadly eyeing the ledge
where the cliff side bleeds from the night sky, you'll find him
the strongest of us - his thoughts are not on jumping
even though life is a jumble, and he struggles, head thumping
he is viewing the horizon
to watch a new dawn arising
taking in the view
of a future brand new

Thanks For Reading.
Peace & Love.
Kyle.