War of the Streets

We live in a city where dwellers roam the intersection of boy and man

Carrying blades close to skin

And the weight of a masculinity seeped in poison

Ego eats the mind, reincarnating itself as blood on the streets

Darkness which eclipses the heart

Dagger is protection

Person is foe

Two truths can exist

But in the end only one life can live

How did it get to this?

If we’re not careful ‘the grass is always greener’,

Is a mentality that can dictate our lives

Like an angry colonel, deafening and persistent

It turns split second smiles to plastic

It eats away at our happiness as we stand in the midst of it

A relentless fire that starts to burn the ground of your security

Perhaps, the grass is only greener because you’re scorching the ground

of the life-giving grass you already stand on.

The Alcoholic

He looks into his glass

Hoping to see the reflection of a saviour

In the swirl of brown liquor before him.

Propped up by the blindness of others

He sips and is violently propelled to a high

Of ethereal happiness

Narrowly just avoiding the grasps of reality

By ordering another drink

To the broken and downtrodden

To those who feel ignored or forgotten

I write this as 2020 is now in full flow.

Some people entered the New Year not filled with the same hope and optimism as those around them.

Perhaps as the fireworks launched on New Year’s the emptiness within you burned just a strong.

Or maybe you enjoyed the night but couldn’t ignore the feeling that someone who could no longer be there should have been by your side sharing the moment.

Maybe you’re entering the New Year jobless; having fallen far from the benchmark of success you set yourself the year before.

Perhaps you look at the New Year ahead and something won’t let you be happy; the uncertainty that the next 12 months may hold fills you with dread.

Just know that you have not been forgotten. You’re in my thoughts. And things will change; it may be a slow-burning change but it will come.

I’ve been quiet for a while so I thought I would just celebrate the weekend with another poem of mine 🙂

Silent Combat

Sometimes you don’t

realise you’re at war

Until you’re lying on the ground

sore with scars and wounded.

One person, many masks

Beneath the fragile surface of your laughter

I see

the tears you are drowning in.

____________________________________________________

I’ve always been fascinated with this idea of everyone hiding a secret pain and suffering. That perhaps the strong person welding a smile or air of politeness there’s pain lingering inside. I remember when I was in primary school and in music class we learned The Beatles’ song ‘Eleanor Rigby’. In the song is the line:

‘Eleanor Rigby…waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door,

who is it for?’

I remember my young mind literally imagining a lady carefully taking a pale mask out of a jar each day and applying it to her face as she steps out of her door and into the world. But of course, nowadays- now that I am older I see it differently. Each of us wears a mask out of necessity because let’s be honest; I’m sure there have been many times where someone has asked ‘how are you?‘ and you’ve wanted to say ‘not great’ but held back. For me, that happens way too often but I’m sure its a common occurrence for many. But every time we grin and nod that’s our mask playing its role and coming into use. In fact, we probably do way more than we know, and sometimes without ourselves noticing.

I try to keep this in mind when approaching people, it’s always good to be aware that a smile hides 1000 things. It makes you navigate conversation carefully with people and more open to people maybe saying a simple ‘no’ when asked ‘Are you okay?’