I used to write a lot of poetry. In the last five years since having children (as a father, not a mother) the creative juices have not been free flowing.

Call it being responsible, call it not being free, call it laziness. My pen to paper is more of a miracle these days so witness, these, the first and probably last offerings of 2008

BE DEAD

I cant be dead.  I will not believe

Shall i go to bed. or just decieve

I have a brain. I feel it move

am i insane. witha point to prove

I have eyes. I see you talk

but when it comes to words. I can not walk

I have two ears. I hear my think

I can't be dead. on the brink

I have a purpose. well i suppose i do

But if i'm dead. That's no longer true

I dont want to be dead. I want to be living

To be the gift that keeps on giving

37

Fatherhood, childhood

responsible man

My hood, your hood

as fast as it can

Mornings, Evenings

all having fun

I just woke up but the day is done

Work time, work time

what did i achieve

Motivation, Stimulation

no longer hard to believe

Rushing Pushing

Can i stop please

No son, More son

ham or cheese

Friendship, Solace

a time for the two

making your bed

enjoying the view

Stop here, be clear

We cannot be slack

Dead time, Gone time

We aint coming back

SILENCE

I can not hear a thing

therefore i am in silence

it is a gorgeous sound

to hear one self breathing

the front door then opens

and noise becomes a factor

a new day has come

our silence disappears

I am alone most days

whilst most others coherse

i feel comfortable as one

I dont seek out others

The silence makes me strong

clarity rules the day

i know i'll get on tomorrow

and i dont need you to breathe

I can not hear a thing

my cogs may be a moonlighting

But today i found my voice

Silence was there listening