I am Relaxed

Lying in a sea of tranquility
My thoughts feel the innocence they once had
At the beginning of time.

My skin
Is the perfect fit,
As my mind
Wanders along the straight line
Of life.

For now it is sensical.
For now it is complete.

And as each moment passes
The next one floats within my reach.

I am relaxed.



I used to play

To joke

To smile at jokes that someone once made.

I had a dry sense of humour

And I had many friends in the people I met in my day-to-day.


But once my cap and gown were safely packed away

And the next step in life was heading my way

I soon had to face the harsh light of reality

As wages had to be earned,

Egos had to be tolerated

And agendas – both known and unknown –

Pushed me through the plasticine mould that it saw fit for me.


And while I worked away, thinking

With only my aspirations, goals and dreams in minds

My voice was shrinking

My chest was tightening

And time was running out.


But my goal was there

And I knew what I had to do,

Or so I thought

As the days grew longer

And I grew ever critical of the smallest mistake

That no one would notice but me

And maybe my boss.


But my goal was still there, though ever smaller and dragging me on,

As I travelled upstream, seeking that final respite.


I was called into the board room shortly after 12.

I could see the sincerity in their faces,

I was just finishing a project.


As surreal as it was, I just remember exhaling.

I was free to explore at last.

My work, my life I could have it all back

No more toxic environment and endless tasks.


I could breathe. And most importantly, with my head held high.


I was made redundant at the beginning of March and have since worked hard to regain everything that gave colour to my life. I am now fully employed again, in an environment that I can live in. I have my weekends back, I am learning so many new skills and have learnt so many life lessons. This empty time on my blog has been the most important of my life and I hope to rekindle my passion for my writing and my connection with the blogosphere.
Happy Writing!

Death’s Stare

When I look forward

I see the eyes of death pierce down

The narrowing stretch between I and he;

His mouth drooling as the scent of my anxiety

Touches his foul nostrils.


I am paralyzed with the eternal presence of his stare:

Where is the meaning if all we can do is wait?

But as I look down, the skull is not yet in my hands,

And my breath is still firmly in my lungs.


As the intensity grows too infinite,

I turn, using all the reason in my body

And face the fertile past:

My birth, my victories and my losses.

I smile,

As the hearth of my heart

Rekindles once more with the warmth of life.


I know, Death’s stare will never be the same again.


How can a forced silence

Ever be power?


Shouting, screaming

Bashing and breaking

Blood in your eyes

When you call the other man a savage.


How far can violence progress

When our lives,


And beliefs are all built

On words

And their logic.

Who are you to tell me what I cannot hear?

You think I will ever support murder,

You think I cannot fight for myself

And keep my heart at bay?


I will not bow down

In front of your ideological train.

Ordeals and Obstacles

With each of our journey’s bump,

We need to build speed,

To conquer it:

But gritted teeth,

And short determination can only take us so far,

As a leap of belief

Takes us over, the rest of the way.


I can’t help but think

It would be better

– and safer – to simply have

No bumps, or hurdles

At all?


No rushed leap.

No pained landing.



If life were a flat road

Would we ever really know

What flat was?

And wouldn’t we still

Have soft complaint

And painful joints

To carry us just the same?

Time is at Every Turn

It was when I bought a clock

That I kept hearing it tick.

Even when it broke

– by my hand –

Its sound was always

One step ahead of my heartbeat.


Even burying it outside

And playing the loudest music

Never stopped the seasons

Or the rain.


Everywhere I looked

The second hand

Met my every move.


White noise

Distinctly holds

The space between your temples.


You know exactly where you are

And what you are to do,

And yet,

You cannot see.

For the soft distraction

is internal.

It is fatigue.


There is no more that can be done now,

Accept it:

You must rest

And try once more

When your eyes are fresh again.

The Animal Inside

Man is an animal

In a social suit.

His white toothed smile

Cloaks the creature beneath.


We were once monkeys

And primitive men,

And now we stand as a constant battleground

Falling somewhere between

Constantly pulled towards one

And the other

Leaving us stranded

In between.


If we try for our virtue we still bear our teeth,

And if we try for our blood thirst

Then we have our conscience.

Pushed and pulled,

We are neither.



‘Atonement’: A Great Achievement

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A book of a tragic separation between a young couple that happens at the hands of a fanciful young girl during the period of WWII. Ian McEwan writes from the three different protagonists’ perspectives, one of whom is the fictional author of the novel (Briony).

This novel is moving in so many different ways, as the use of different perspectives means we can see the traps that people lead themselves into, and how out of innocence there can still be great hurt caused.

I have always found that McEwan’s writing has such a deep insight into the human condition, and its relation to the rest of the world. This is a novel that definitely doesn’t disappoint, and is one of those rare books that has a worthy film to accompany it. Whichever way you choose to visit the storyline, you will be well rewarded!