To Hot To Sleep

Laying sticky

no breeze at all.

Beads of salt drop across pillows thread

can’t escape this heat

across this sodden bed.

Sheets turn wet with humid glue

heat weights down

to form sticky dew.

Memories breeze a touch of bliss

through windows gap

a cooling kiss.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

Summer Evening

Summer haze

Warming glaze

Wondering into a twilights gaze.

Not a care to be found

Nor wondering cloud

Only the gentle murmur

Of the passing crowd. 

Green trees nod to black 

As day gives way

And night comes back. 

Shadows eye lid starts to close

As day time sleeps and night time rose.

The Trip

Going away tomorrow, feeling confident about it, will be lots of people everywhere and ill be out of routine, but whatever, im going to embrace that fear. It cant kill me. Its site seeing not sword swallowing.

The fact I am going in the first place is a victory. Normally my OCD, Anxiety etc would just make it too stressful.

There will be things that grate on me, the Instagram junkies will no doubt be out in force, who I swear go away for the sole purpose of being able to Instagram the shit out of everything so we all know their exact time, location and frequency. Hate Instagram, I had it once but I got rid of it because I couldn’t handle my friends, who are mainly grown men my own age, posting inspirational quotes all the time. Instagram Gollums “LLLIIIKKKEEEZZZZ MMMEEEEE”

Anyway, I am going off point. As I say I am feeling confident about going away, it will be good to break routine, which is hard to do when at home in base camp.

All the best and I hope you enjoy whatever it is you and yours are doing this weekend.

Cheers

 

 

Evil Cause

Martyrs with an evil cause.

Cowards who slam only innocent doors

their moral compass set off course.

All this evil

for a so called

cause.

 

They think fear will make us bend.

Wrong.

Back to hell with you all

and the twisted

message you send.

 

The days of black flags are numbered.

Our stick is long and reaches far

you offend all

including Allah.

 

Enjoy your time, of little you have.

Misguided fools

evil at heart.

Your time will end

when good will start.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

Evil Acts

Evil acts becoming so common

love, all to trodden

under boot of evil mind

pains the sorrow of all mankind.

 

Terror thrashes at good and light

but only strengthens peoples might.

We do not bow to acts so cruel

they will not command

nor shall they rule.

 

In the darkest moments

the kindest hearts beam.

Beacons of hope for all to see

no evil could know such bravery.

 

I hope for a better world

for children anew.

A time when evil stops

and love

pulls through. 

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

Twilight Garden

Cool, warm, summer breeze

dance over my tired knees

make my fringe dance with delight

while I lay

in this warm twilight.

 

Birds call for sleep time come

last of garden bee does hum

in this lowering

this, bowing

of the sun.

 

Land falls silent, further still

behind a solemn daffodil

who mourns the passing of light

as the sun fades further

out of site.

 

last of defiant bird does call

goodbye the sun

welcome nights shawl.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

My breakdown and some other things that followed. Part One.

Part One: Hindsight.

I had a breakdown in November 2016, it started in work, brought on by acute anxiety and OCD, depression came after.

When I think back it wasn’t quite as epic as I would of liked it to have been. If I could do it all again I certainly would of taken my trousers off in the office, instead of just sitting in one of the meeting rooms crying and looking haunted. Taking of my trousers would have gained me some extra leave from work. That`s the thing with hindsight, you always get the good ideas after the event. Never mind.

Since that time I have started writing a bit. I do enjoy it and I find it does help, if anything its a distraction from worrying about completely mental things that no one else worries about. I enjoy writing poetry mainly, or at least try my best at it.

The other night my partner came home after a full day in work, bags of shopping in both hands,keys in mouth and I said “Hi hun, I have written a poem called Bleeding Hands (sounds easy going listening dosent it), ill read it you” she hadn’t even put down the bags and I was already going on about possibly the most depressing dark sounding poems imaginable. I was like Gollum, crawling out of the shadows, “hheeelllooo my precious, would you like to hear our poem, weez hopez you likesss it??”

to be continued…….

Scars On My Brow.

The lines on my brow are scars

they run deep

past troubles not forgotten

even in the darkest of sleep.

 

Time a great healer

not for these scars

they strengthen the walls

keep up the bars.

 

My shoulders spread wide

look of a glare

a lost soul wanders

behind the stare.

 

Its part of the armor

it keeps you all back

don’t press me more

I may lash out

I may attack.

 

But don’t pity what you read

you may have scars yourself

you choose not to believe

but what thou give us

thou shall receive.

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

Ripples Repeating

Trump at helm

who would of thought

the days are back

of when hate was taught.

 

Religion hijacked

the irony is there

the source of all knowledge

now the route of all despair.

 

Wars being waged

in some hopeless engage

and all to be accomplished

another blood socked page.

 

The history warnings

were there  all along

we just chose to hit repeat

and replay the same sad song.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

 

Mind Kite

Mind Kite

please slow your flight

these winds are too strong

in the dead of this night.

Please ease this chaotic flight

my troubled mind kite.

 

Mind kite

head for some calmer clouds

where float be your pace and glide your grace.

Please slow down my troubled mind kite

please slow this treacherous flight.

 

Mind Kite

the string is breaking in this storm

please come down

im losing site

of my frantic mind kite.

 

Mind kite

please slow your flight

my arms are failing me now

and sweat does pour from my solemn brow.

 

Mind kite

hear my cry

anymore of this pulling

and my soul will surely die.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.