Well, it’s true
She’s been away
Lost inside
Feeling stray

Searching hard
For contentment
To try and avoid
Hateful resentment

Looking for honor
In her walk
Trapping the frowns
Riding, hope

She’s been down
She’s been up
Proving the case
Supporting luck

She brushed her teeth
Went to bed
Thinking about
All they said

Couldn’t sleep
Mind would race
Too many thoughts
Making their case

Until she chose
To let them go
Least I know
What I don’t know

Too much worry
Can wear her out
Make her anxious
Or scream and shout

Sometimes you need
A fresh blank page
To get back to basics
To re-engage

Forget the hype
The relentless press
Take time out
To clean a mess

Read a book
Meet a close friend
Do what you need
For a night well spent.

All we have
Is what we know
And what we know
Is all we know..


((Poem)) BrIgHtEr DaYs

Original work. 23.06.15

One shiny drop,
on the edge of tomorrow,
guided by the breeze,
a misguided sorrow.

It turns with the currents,
shaking and parting,
battered by elements,
rather disheartening.

What, can save,
this unfortunate soul,
from life’s random dice
and it’s ill fated roll?

Nothing will intervene,
less, will lend a hand,
nature, unstoppable,
we belong to the land.

But nature itself,
repairs what it can,
when we really think on it,
life has a plan.

This little drop,
will meet, the sun,
and lifted up high,
with no need to run.

It will evaporate up,
towards summers glow
and though it may change form,
it will most definitely, grow.



It’s an interesting word, isn’t it? It sits there, in a tent, in a gigantic field of possibility, bridging the gap between two sides.

Two possibilities. Maybe even more?

Two extremes.

It allows you to not make a decision.
Or, almost – decide not to decide, through indicating that you do/like/think multiple things.
But what does sometimes actually do?

“Do you always do that?”

“Do you prefer left or right?”

So often, this creeps up when someone wants to be mysterious. Or rather, wants to grant the illusion that they’re being mysterious. But the word itself implies indecisiveness more than anything else.

Perhaps one day, I’ll discover what sometimes means.

If that could be while standing on the edge of a mountain. Looking across a starry night, blazing with the blue light of the moon, considering whether I prefer chasing the sunrise in the morning, or the sunset in the evening, maybe that could be the time, that I understand what sometimes means.