My Idea

I know I had an idea,
I had thought of something witty and sharp to say,
Something pretty smart that would blow your minds away,
Something that would have you thinking for the rest of the day,
I'm sure I had something smart to say.
It was funny and wise all at the same time,
And its true meaning was disguised behind clever rhyme,
It was short and sweet and just purely sublime,
For all of two seconds it ran through my mind.
I know I had an idea,
I opened my mouth and was about to say something profound,
Yet nothing came out not even a sound,
I searched every nook and cranny in my mind but it couldn't be found,
This idea of mine, just couldn't be found,
Damn,
I know I had an idea,
I had it with me when I walked into that door,
I had it with me when I was offered the floor,
Infact I had that one and a couple more,
But its gone now and I am a sight for eyes sore.
I know I had an idea,
I just can't quite remember what it was,
Now they are all looking at me because they think its a pause,
Maybe I will say the longest most complicated word and then add a cause,
"for those who fear long words hipoppotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia"
Blank looks then... applause.

Confessions

Sometimes I cover my eyes to keep myself blinded from the darkness which is the earth I am confined in,
Other times I find my religion in my freedom to expression and hence I dub this piece confessions,
I hide from my reality never really seeing what is inside of me always afraid of the fight in me,
Most times I'm like Kanye West I inspire me but others I am in shambles and a sight to see.
I throw around a lot of words that I don't really mean and deep down I really don't like the obscene,
But I'd rather speak ill than cause a scene and anything I say never really comes out clean,.
I preach the water but the wine looks so good I claim to be on a diet but I love my food,
I try to be a lyricist but they confuse me with their syllables,
I say you can have my shoulder but trust me I'm not that reliable,
In fact its more viable that I won't be there when you need me more than ever,
However, I try my best to explain myself to the world,
But everytime I try insults at me are hurled,
So I took my defensive position, yes into a ball I curled,
And just waited until the problems unfurled,
So maybe one day I can uncurl and pick them out one by one.
Sometimes I cover my eyes so that I am blinded to the darkness of the earth which I am confined in,
But then the wind blows and a storm rages and even when I try to keep my eyes shut,
I get curious and it gets the better of me,
And the mysterious becomes what I want to see,
So I peek,
Just for a second I show myself,
And that second is all it takes to see,
I am not alone.

The Porcelain Vase

The porcelain vase stands solitary on the glass table,
Basking in the glow of the beautiful morning sun,
It stands still just next to the phone cable,
While I wake up in the morning my errands to run.

While I dash from my room and into the shower,
Prepare for the meeting I have in an hour,
Eat my breakfast while wearing my trousers,
Fly out of the house like an ungrateful lover.

The porcelain vase stands solitary on the glass table,
Taking in what the day has in store,
Stays put in its place near the phone cable,
While in the office I keep fighting for more.

Between boardroom meetings and meetings on the phone,
Watching as tempers flare beneath polite tones,
Selling selling selling I seem to be in the zone,
The day ends, while I work late never in a hurry to get home,

The porcelain vase stands solitary on the glass table,
Watching the sunset on a lovely eve,
Right there in its place next to the phone cable,
While I leave my office to go rave.

While my friends and I catch a couple of drinks,
And lie to each other and give toasts, glass clinks,
As we try to understand what the female mind thinks,
As we hold each other's heads while we vomit in the sinks.

The porcelain vase stands solitary on the glass table,
Enjoying the still of night as quiet as a mouse,
Still it stands right next to the phone cable,
While I stumble and stagger into the house.

As I noisily make my way to the kitchen and eat some bread,
As I keep telling myself how I can't feel my head,
As I clamber up the stairs as opposed to softly tread,
As I black out the the floor just inches short of my bed,

The porcelain vase stands still on the glass table,
Listening to the silent pitter patter of the nightly rain,
It stands as always next to the phone cable,
Waiting for morning to watch me do it again.

Another Love Poem

You speak words that might have been best unspoken,
Perform pieces that would have been best unwritten,
Draw pictures that would have better been left unfathomed,
Preach sermons that would have better been left unsummoned,
Cook meals that would have better been left unseasoned.
For some reason the things you do would have better been left undone,
The songs you sing better been left unsung,
Tales you tell better left untold,
Goods you sell better left unsold,
Cars you drive better left undriven,
And enemies you forgive better left unforgiven,
And misunderstand me not I'm not trying to be cold,
Just saying all is naught if you have no love in your soul.
You may move mountains or make a diamond out of coal,
But all is naught if you have no love in your soul,
And naught can be all if from him whose soul is filled with love.

Don't We All?

Okay so maybe I have told a little white lie a couple of times,
Only to get away with the smallest of crimes,
Never when it matters never when is consequential
But, haven't we all?

And maybe I have picked a coin or two that technically weren't mine,
And placed them in better custody than he who had them beforehand,
Never was it planned never more than could be returned,
But, haven't we all?

And maybe I have said biting words about a friend behind his back,
Instead of defending them when they were under attack,
But never too mean and never too obscene,
But, haven't we all?

And maybe sometimes I don't listen to my parents,
Even when I know they are right I take it for granted,
But never on the big things and those that matter, never at all,
But, don't we all?

And maybe sometimes I have added just a little salt to a rumor to make it more entertaining,
Then denied it in full when the affected was complaining,
But never to serious stories and never did I take the glory,
But, haven't we all?

And maybe I have punched a few lads back in my day,
Slapped them around and showed them what I had to say,
But only those who had it coming, only the bad ones,
But, haven't we all?

And yes maybe I would get mad if someone did the same to me,
And with reason, you'd agree,
Not to my friends not to my family,
But, wouldn't we all?

Leave the Hall Light On

Mother I am a big boy now and I understand most of what is spoken,
I know there is no Santa nor any boogeyman threat,
And I know there are no monsters hiding under my my bed,
I know there's no giant waiting to grind my bones to make his bread,
And I know I can't run as fast as the man that was made out of gingerbread.
I know that the figures on my wall are nothing but shadows,
And that there's nothing but cows in the grassy meadows,
I know that children don't come from storks and aren't bought from the supermarket,
And I know that girls are actually human beings just programmed a bit different
I know that fairies don't exist, unicorns too,
And that people work for their dreams and don't get them from wishes coming true,
I know that the toothfairy is just you and father trying to make me happy,
And don't even get me started about the Easter bunny.
I know the sounds in my closet are just effects of our weak walls,
And I know there's nothing to be feared of darkness, nothing at all.
But please do me a favour that you won't regret,
When you go to sleep leave the hall light on, in case I forget.

Perception

What we perceive is often a misinterpratation of what we conceive,
The mind and the eye are often quite far apart yet still in harmony,
Working side by side to create an image and decipher the meaning behind the image itself,
But what happens when the same instruments that conduct our every act misdirect our paths?
When the eye and the mind leave us blind to what we have left behind?
When the basis and purpose end up being reasons we oppose what is fundamentaly what we are supposed to do?
When the depth of our perception is not to be matched but by the height of our conception,
And even further what happens when what we conceive and what we perceive completely contrast each other?
When the mind shows us one but the eye shows us another?
The brightest of lights can still cast shadows,
The most innocent of people can still cause deception,
The smallest of surgeries can still cause concussion,
The best of instructors can still give wrong directions,
So while many say our perception relies on our conception,
I say they are interdependant, reliant on each other and biased by one another,
For the finger can exist not without the hand and the mind not without the eye,
And even in scenes of such existence problems are identified,
Most natural ability compromised and potential unrealised,
So guard your mind as a man guards his house of treasures,
For is that not what it is,
An endless stream from whence all knowledge comes forth,
A complexity of sorts within its own simplicity,
But that is just an interpratation of my conception,
Pray tell, what is your perception?

Wordsmith Warrior

If this mic was my shield in this battle of words,
If in my sheath was the pen the mighty double edged sword,
If this stage was my battlefield and the audience my army,
If my I were stuck in a corner and the enemy was around me,
If my words were my arrow and my mind their trusty bow,
If my acts were my clothing my battle proud battle gown,
If society was my enemy standing proud on the horizon,
If the fear in me was their rifle and I was right within the strike zone,
Then my performance would be salvation and my piece would be my hero,
And I would watch as my enemy was depleted down to zero,
For my light would cast a shadow and my soul would fly again,
Exercising my right to free expression would make me whole again,
But this mic is not a weapon and this pen is not a sword,
And you sit there not to taunt me but to listen to my every word,
So I will speak the words of wisdom the best way I know how,
And I will sing the song of freedom with no stress on my brow,
So pass the mic to me and maybe I will tell you a bit about myself,
Pass the mic to me and maybe my poetry will express itself.

The Dreamer

I walked through the pathway to my dreams,
Walked past the keepers of the key to the gate,
The gate that separates my dreams from my reality,
Separates what seems from what is meant to be.
I stepped through the gate and exited one realm only to enter another,
Into a different place in which my words are an order,
My thoughts are the only law within which I am bound to follow,
My mind is the scripture and of it alone need i bestow my hallow,
And like an eagle that catches the draft of a wind in its wings I soar,
To the Nether lands in my Neverland and I never land in another land,
But the land within my mind's expanse.
For my thoughts never too far can stray
And yet never too near can stay,
And in this realm of false truths and victorious defeat I reign,
King over all my loyal subjects,
Crown prince of all that I rule as far as the eye can see,
And with this power I decree that all evil from my presence will flee,
The birds of the sky and the beasts of the earth shall roam unperturbed,
And though it may look absurd it will by my word that they live undisturbed,
And as I walk through my kingdom and survey the lengths to which I have expanded,
See the people strive to work for all I have demanded,
The gatekeeper taps my shoulder,
Together we walk down the alley of my mind,
Leaving all my wealth and power behind,
Leaving behind all weight in the words I might have spoken,
Because you see the powerful king has been awoken,
So I walk out the gate and walk down the pathway of my dreams,
And walk to where the truth is just as real it seems

No Entertainer

He spoke,
He spake his words for his own sake,
He let them spew out of his mouth without a single break,
He made no mistake while in this dialogue he did partake,
For he knew words with no meaning were like icing with no cake.
So he spoke,
He told tales of their fathers and tales of their mothers,
He told tales of brothers turning on brothers,
He told tales of a past time and then tales of another,
And when he was done he told some others,
Still he spoke,
He warned of times to come when mouths would be shut,
He warned of seasons to come when harvests would be cut,
He warned of years to come when wars would start,
He warned of decades to come when people wouldn't value art,
Then he spoke,
He spoke for reasons unknown or reasons uncovered,
Yet his speech became reknowed and quite well covered,
His speech became talk of the town echoed by every other,
Echoed by every speaker and quoted by every author.
He went silent,
Listened to but not heard he claimed,
Echoed but not adhered was his pain,
Words without meaning are never the same,
And that was a fact he made very plain,
He died,
But just before his last words he wrote,
He called out an audience to come to his boat,
And though his breath was heavy he got the words out of his throat,
"I'm no entertainer" was his final quote.