Latest project...

...is coming along nicely.

So, this is going to be my next book, 'Life and Death' which is a collection of poetry on both subjects with a story sandwiched in the middle about my life and its possible future.  The story is written in a sort of Homer's Iliad/Dante's Inferno style and will be spread over several pages and written sometimes in poetry form and sometimes in narrative form.  The Life and Death poetry sections are complete and I reckon I am about 75% the way through the 'my story' section.  I was flipping between projects but have now decided to concentrate on this one.  Below, is a section of the 'my story' bit for you to enjoy:

OF LITTLE COMFORT

 And it was now that my body was to suffer.

It was now that what was once in the background now wasn’t.

Now that “the drink” took control of my life.

 

At first, it sympathised and counselled.

Listened and supported.

Nodded and understood.

 

It gave me strength and courage.

Showed me a good time in small doses.

Led me to a weekend of social joy.

 

Happy, smiling, fun.

Good memories in good places.

A period of wonderment and knowledge.

 

Life was renewed.

Time and money had no teeth.

My mind was free and open.

 

Then “spirits” began to playfully haunt me.

The stronger, the purer; the better.

Taking me to another level of experience.

 

Warnings of “never mix” were ignored.

Leading to the odd issue.

Leading to the odd embarrassment.

 

But even these “spirits” could be controlled (somewhat).

Their devilish ways an extension of happy, smiling fun.

Their impish actions shared and laughed about collectively.

 

Soon though, a slight addiction developed.

A want to consume these “spirits” more and more.

A desire to feel their affects over longer periods.

 

And indulge in an excessive intake.

So excessive it bred violence and memory loss.

Guilt and pain.  Fear and inspiration.

 

For all its faults and trappings.

A period of substance was born.

Art, film, poetry; all were touched upon.

 

But with it, it brought back those dark feelings.

Back once more - stronger, more destructive.

Of loneliness.  Of helplessness.  Of uselessness.

 

And of little comfort I fell into.

Unable to stop and wanting to take it further.

Creativity became more important than health.

 

And so, I came upon a shop on a corner.

Peering through the glass, something catches my bloodshot eyes.

A girl…no…a fairy, a green fairy.

 

ABSINTHE


Twinkle twinkle.

A shine of deep.

A glisten of desire.

 

Pure liquid of possibility.

Twisting reflections.

Breaking arms.

 

This green fairy.

Shimmers and swims.

Burning inside glass.

 

To free her and inhale her.

An odour of pain and release.

Sweet and playful.

 

Pouring that first deadly shot.

Its deathly silent and still.

Enticing and exciting.

 

Then feeling it blaze and eat away.

It takes your breath away.

Leaves you gasping for free air.

 

Churning your insides out.

Getting into your very veins.

Feeding your alcoholics desire.

 

Warnings are meant to be ignored.

Limits are meant to be tested.

Imagination is meant to be un-caged.

 

Eyes are meant to be wide.

Fingers are meant to be busy.

Memory is meant to be lost.

 

Surroundings are meant to be destroyed.

Views are meant to be questioned.

Time is meant to be conquered.

 

Feelings are meant to be explored.

Colours are meant to be heard.

Music is meant to be touched.

 

Fears are meant to be submerged.

Changes are meant to be welcomed.

Blood is meant to be spilled.

 

And so pains are meant to be black.

And so emotions are meant to be frozen.

And so despair is meant to be long.

 

For what is gained in art and poetry.

Is lost in health and sanity.

And poured out in love or suicide.