To …A Man


Does a man who shows his feelings 

 make him any less a man?

some people seem to think that this is weak

But I think there is strength inside of

 any man who can

express his mind and teach his heart to speak

The stigma that we live with is that

 – men are made of steel

and women are more delicate and break

Unwritten rules are stereotyped 

and branded with a seal 

 to break that mould would be a grave mistake

I’d only be a half a man

 if half of me felt ‘dead’

displaying my aggressive, macho role

A lack of sensitivity is

 butter without bread 

together and as one – they make me whole

So if you’re one who thinks of me

 as less than any man

for expressing what I feel – then think again!!

The ‘dead-inside’ can`t change their world

the ‘living, feeling’ – can


for passions are the inner-strengths – of men




The Road Within

The Road Within

Every way I’ve turned

 each twisted road that I have taken

To search for answers in my life

 has left me still forsaken

With a luggage of emotions and

 an inner strength of will

I’m starting on a journey

 where my dreams I might fulfil

No map, no guide to help me

 nor the company of a friend

No sign, in all directions

 showing where this road will end

No source of information that 

will help me on my way

I’ll have to take it step-by-step 

and slowly, day-by-day

The miles of life behind me

taught me things I didn’t know

And ‘though I’m more aware now 

with my instincts I’ll still go

On my solitary excursion 

on my ramble to solution

I’ll watch for all the hazards

in my search for restitution

There isn’t any short-cut 

to this place that I’m foreseeing

But, if I take the road within 


It will lead me to well-being






As rain cries teardrops

Down the window pane

I look out beyond

At the shroud of grey

That hangs there like a stain


The wind sighs and moans

And stirs up spirals from the dust

As the last Autumn leaves sag

Chlorophyll – drained

In staggered stages from gold to a state of rust


Bowed heads of wilted flowers

Weep dead petals into carpets of colourless decay

Where pungency and dankness fills the air

And naked trees stand bare

In howling, biting winds as they bend and sway


To thoughts of dreaded, coming Winter

I strive hard not to cling

Nor to the perseverance of its dullness

But always though, it seems, sustaining me


Is the prospect of a new year’s Spring








I look for rainbows through the clouds

For, I cannot dwell beneath the shrouds

Of stagnant memories

Trying to get me down

I search the paths where sunshine rays

Disperse those deeper, darker days

And substitute with joy

Where there’s a frown

I paint a picture in my mind

Of a place that only I can find

And make believe that

You’re there for a while

And in this rainbow-coloured hue

 Where I visualize myself with you

 I start to glow amusingly


And smile







Our minds will often clutter-up with pointless, useless thoughts

That usually make no sense to us at all

And yet, we cannot shut them out, it’s partly how we learn 

So frequently – we need an overhaul


Of thoughts we think as “positive” or those that can inspire

And “useful” ones, absorb all these and keep 

The others we can disregard but – not dispose of yet

We use these for our mental compost heap


You see, these things that give us cause to worry, fear or doubt

Have logically, a reason why they’re there

In contrast with “our better selves” (when things seem much more clear)

We see the way we were, then can compare


So when you’re feeling overwhelmed with overloaded thoughts

And feel inside your mind is going to blow 

Remember! – it’s a “compost heap” of unimportant mess


That helps us to distinguish – all we know!!






We hid ourselves 

swathed in our fleshy bandages

So we could be metamorphosised

from the children we were then 

To the adults we longed to become

without being too traumatised


By keeping life within ourselves 

and not projecting out

We might survive inside this pupal-state

and everything externally, we didn’t understand

To comprehend as adults 

we would wait


As years of life would pass us by

 we’d learn and change and grow

Experience would guide us through our fears

In safety of Cocoons we’d built around us to survive

We’d  find out how to cope 

the future’s years 


We cannot hide from living 

we must endure and fight

Even through abuse and hurt and pain and lies

for, one day we will see it through 

Break free from our Cocoons

to freely fly like new-hatched butterflies


















In my life there was darkness 

a sort-of, a shroud

That took years to pass 

like some massive grey cloud

I longed for the sunshine 

but never it came

I always believed that it would

 just the same

In time, through the blackness 

I finally saw light 

I patiently waited 

I felt I was right

The dark cloud has gone now

 it drifted away

Gone back to the past 

where I hope it will stay

And sunshine, at last now 

has found a way through

I hope that in your life 


the sun shines for you







I drifted through a tunnel past the memories in my head

To leave them far behind and find a peaceful place instead

The beginning of the journey, that began in black and white

Transcended into several arcs of rainbow-coloured light

And through the multi-coloured hue, I was drawn by the transition

To a spectrum-veiled, transparency in panoramic vision

I was standing in a meadow and the sky was clear and blue

And everyone was children, even I’d became one too

They stretched their hands to welcome me whilst asking me to try

Strawberries to eat that kept them spiritually high

There seemed to be contentment as everything was one

And all was as it should be as they played beneath the Sun

They drank from sparkling waters that were endless, flowing love

Eternal rays of happiness embraced them from above

There were tigers with no claws – just paws and snakes that just ate grapes

And little children tumbling in the tree-tops with the apes

There were dogs and cats that didn’t fight and bees that didn’t sting

And predators that didn’t prey, a peace with everything

There wasn’t any flesh to eat as this was strictly banned

The land supplied abundant fruit in acres grown un-manned

There wasn’t any need  to have a military defence

As things were absolute in peace, a feeling I could sense

Polar bears and lion cubs shared pears from lemon trees

And everyone was healthily immune from all disease

Every source of evil-ness had been eradicated

And every trace of suffering – completely terminated

Everything seemed perfect and I wanted to remain

But in the blinking of an eye-lid, I was back in bed again

Anchored by this life that held me back and bade me stay

’til moments, not of now – then be for me – to fly away

But oh, what of the beauty in such vivid, dream-like dream?

To melancholy mortal man, would so appealing seem?

But, should he try to venture there in haste – be premature


His opportune, perpetual dream shall he dispel – for sure








In absence of his presence

I will not be haunted by the death of him, as I was


…in the presence of the life of him.



…May God have mercy on his soul.




No need for flower, or card, nor prayer

There is no void where nothing’s there

Through time, will heal, this wounded space

Pre-occupied with his disgrace

Its vacuum nature shall console

Made vacant from his blackened soul

Reflections of ‘what was’ desist

…of a Father whom did not exist








Conscious and Zen Again



Don’t hang in shame that sunny face

whose congruence is no disgrace

But weary of your tired affliction

Lest contradict your soul’s conviction

This heart has had its fill of pain

kept darkly-dwelling in your brain

For ego likes to trick your mind

that all the world is so unkind

But in your spirit’s wisdom, know…

’tis only – you believed it so!  

And ask sincere that truth reveal

This conscious love that knows is real



Zen again!!!


An arrogant man, in an arrogant way

Asked such an arrogant question one day

The question imploded, as his baggage exploded

to ask, ‘Who do you, think – you are?’

My ego was stressing, to teach him a lesson

My sense over-ruled this with calm

So I didn‘t retort, that, ‘…I think that I’m not

…whom you think, that, I think, that I am!’

I never indulged him, his arbiter’s pride

Just left him to ponder this thought…

I think I am no-one, than, Being that I am

…and the ‘who’ that you think of…?

…I’m not!!