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‘Inspiration vs. Reality’

The drunk writer, The inspired writer - (OO365...
The thought is fleeting

The mind is bigger than corpse

The passion is painful

The dive is scary


Yet knowledge is eye-opening

And talent requires feeding

Silence is glorious

And company can be distracting


Reality is unreal

It is formed by our minds

The time passes still

As we keep on loading our clocks


Inspiration hurts

You can only write

Your vision is blurred

There’s no peace of mind


The soul flees through the pen

Into the page it flies

Whether it’s midnight or day

Your choices are sliced




When a thunder broke the sunny day in half,

I was dreaming with my eyes fixed on the empty sky.

Oh, was it empty when I’ve fallen asleep,

Now dark carpet covered it.

The anxiety came with the colour of deep blue,

My dreams clouded with nightmarish glow,

The depth of the soul uncovered sharply,

Found myself begging for mercy of the black king

‘Oh Lord, bring back the sweetness of a thought!’

My dream – a nightmare,

Emptiness filled with pain

Of a heart longing for answers,

For questions not to remain.

Suddenly the wind blew taking a page away.

The page of the book of life danced its way to the grave.

In the muddy puddle the words were lost,

Never to be rediscovered,

Never to be written again.

‘Oh, dear Lord, is that what I was heading for?’

Still no secrets uncovered,

I’m standing in the middle of a storm.

‘The sorrow can only fall asleep’

One more tear I will shed

One more glass of champagne I won’t have

As I will drink wine instead


When will this sorrow go away?

When will this memory find its way

Out of my head?


A song of madness

Sung in shadows, hiding from the lights

Strong feelings may never actually die

Tempranillo varietal wine bottle and glass, sh...

‘Wicked weather for a hurt heart’

Tempting tempests

Stylish storms

With wicked weather

I dance at dawn

At tricky twilights

And twee ones too

I spin and spill

My words onto winding vines

As my mind makes a missile of thoughts

And my hurt heart hurries like a hurricane


‘Artistic Lunacy’

I’m walking on a sunny day

Delighted to have sunlight on my face,

Pleased to have my say

By writing. On starry nights I glance into space

While the two worlds mix with each other.

A sudden feeling of discomfort, inexplicable.

I’ve got thoughts to gather

But they all split, it’s undeniable

Something’s been watching me

For a long, long time

From behind that cherry tree.

Have I committed some crime

I’ve written about?

I can see the light

Which is coming out

From my inside…

What a mad suicide!

Normal for lunatic poets

Who put their sorrow aside

By drowning it in the muse’s sockets.


Poetry Potluck

‘Nothing more precious than poetry/The jewel of humankind’


Nothing gives that much joy

Nothing is worth living so much

As the most beautiful act of making art

Nothing is more precious than poetry

Nor wealth

Nor love

Nor friendship

Nor nature

Everything is passing

Everything is uncertain

But for this flower

Blossoming in my soul

Taking advantage of my heart and mind

Leading to self-destruction

Once started

The power is impossible to stop

Let us pass away in the name of poetry

The jewel of humankind