all through the night i follow the light
at the end of time –
will it still shine bright?
But Never Love (Originally Untitled) – Written August 2006 (Aged 31)
why do they never say, love…
close…
proud …
means a lot …
important …
but… never love
The Loving Touch – Written August 2006 (Aged 31)
i wonder where it went wrong
was the weight of guilt
just too much
did parents abandon responsibility
and fail to provide the loving touch
Parental Damage – Written Sunday 13th August 2006 (Aged 31)
what mother
willfully imposes a condition
on their child
one they have clearly not got
The Boy Behind The Glasses: An Introduction
My name is James and this personal website is an attempt to archive my writing which predominately is (under a loose banner) poetry
I started writing things down at the age of 17 in 1992, initially with no other idea of plan then to keep a record of my thoughts and feelings. Given my growing up experiences it felt like the perfect way to apply some self help therapy
Whatever Happened to My Well Planned Life? – Written December 1992 (Aged 17)
whatever happened to the well planned life
when i was young i was told everything would be alright
Alone is So Reliable – Written December 1992 (Aged 17)
alone is so reliable
you are nobody’s fool
I Had to Say Something – Written Sunday 13th August 2006 (Aged 31)
it is used to explain, ‘illness’
not bonding with children
not maintaining a relationship
the father leaving so young
never to remain…
Secretland
I stood on the beach and stared out to the horizon and as i looked i hoped that in some way the horizon would move closer and provide me with some answers. of course, in reality it did not and it never was going to. I looked to my left and then I looked to my right. From my current vantage point the beach appeared to stretch infinitely either side of me. I look again at the horizon and this time I noticed how calm the sea was as it gently lapped against the shoreline which was just beyond my feet. I studied the almost rhythmic nature of the waves and longed for them to give me an answer but like the horizon before me, it to would not tell me any information. I was sure that they were all oblivious to my existence.
With My Broken Pen Here I Write Again – Written December 1992 (Aged 17)
the word friend will be there –
from beginning to end
was she born –
on the fields of ecstasy?
was she spirit sent?
