Returned

Before the sun had raised his head I was up and out of my winter bed.

Shoes laced and treading fast, my frightful time a distant past.

The sun now blazes my soul alive, with burning fire this man does strive,

For today is no longer yesterday it would seem, a new chance is born, a wondrous dream,

That awakes, and guides my soul once more.

 

No more am I knelt on the floor, nor rapping at that window, nor hammering at that door,

I am in, I am back inside, back to life my worries have died.

My eyes were red and sunken ships now pierce life’s horizon with their razor arrow tips.

That bastard bolted nailed door, is now unbolted,

And nailed no more.  

 

With each sink and soul demise, there is always a tomorrow, a chance to rise.

Although my greys collect and gather pace, this life is a marathon, not a crippling race.

Whatever it is this thing, this dark, this shadow. I have faced it now and stood the gallows,

Yet to drop and hear the crack, I keep in mind the sun is always at my front, and the dark,

Always at my back.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

Numb

I feel nothing as nothing has ever felt and feels,

Nothing as in what lies between the land and the sky,

Not a flicker of flickering flaming light,

Nor wanting care, pass these rolled eyes that do stare,

Upward, and always marble black.

 

Empty as a cup that is all but sipped and supped

Mouthed and mauled passed china ring stained lips,

Chipped the edges of feeling,

Slipping fingers passed thumbs of lactic grips,

That handle, and burns my knuckles path.

 

Hunger in a room of endless forever spoons,

Silver shine clatter the line and reflections,

Reflections bend my curious leaning nose,

Background curled into my worries of two’s,

And fro my cares of communication means.

 

I want to feel something; I want to feel anything,

Wake me up, slap my face, tear my hair out-of-place.

Anything apart from this nothing I feel now,

This void of thought, my cemented scowl,

A face so solemn and words so foul.

 

But here I sit, my clown paint has ran,

Sprinted away, left is all but this shadow of what was once a man.

I am all glue and pot from tip to weighted toe,

My eyes hang out of my dead skull,

As my years pass and go.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

Dead As A Nail

I feel I am dead, as dead as a nail,

All hammered and coffin

All bent and rust.

Buried back down deep beneath the cold

And frozen black dust.

 

And yet I still breathe, a tired man’s breath,

Albeit a sigh, a solemn draw,

While I hammer at the window

While I wrap at the door,

My mind has locked me out.

 

Or maybe I am locked in, I am not sure,

Either way I am standing here once more,

Standing on the wrong side of this bastard bolted door.

I am searching for the right key

But the bunch is far too big.

 

So as it is, back to the shadow I have returned,

Where no warm does glow, no hope does burn.

Back to the bottom of hells staircase,

Locked behind the door and staring at my once stood place,

All dead and nail inside.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

The Prison I Create – (old post)

 

There are no bars keeping me in, there is no door without a key in.

All the lights are on without a flicker or dim, my soul free to wander out or in.

And yet I stay frozen to one spot, unable to get past the lock that is not.

I sit and stare at my loves fading smile, trapped in the memory of when I could hold her for a while.

I curse myself and my internal latch, that I cannot get loose from this imaginary catch.

My hands are sore, my eyes are weak, my internal light ever-growing darker and bleak.

The man I once was becoming a ghost in time, locked behind this illusion of mine.

Gone of days when life was a dream to catch, why can I not get past this imaginary latch.

There are no bars, there is no steel, why does my mind command me to kneel?

I have no words, only hate, inside this prison I do create.

I scratch a marking on the wall, to remind me I must obey or face the fall.

And fall I do, further still, into this invisible pit I created by the freedom of my own free will.

The hangman’s noose so appealing,

But today is not my time, I remain for the true love of mine.

No illusionist trick, nor jailers whip, will see me lose my iron like grip.

So I will go on inside my imaginary jail,

And yes, there will be a time that I shall prevail.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

#BookReview: Words From an Unlikely Poet by Charlie Hasler

Moonlighting Scrivener

There are some books that make for bedtime reading and then there are those that give you sleepless nights. The good kind. These are the books that you shut every so often, close your eyes, take deep breaths and let the words seep in, commit them to memory and lay in bed pondering over them for hours on end.

Words From an Unlikely Poet is one such book. It is not everyday that one of your favourite bloggers comes out with his own book. Hence, I rushed to get my hands on a copy of it as soon as it came to my knowledge. Needless to say, I was very far from disappointed.

The book, an anthology of poems, is written by an unlikely poet who is anything but unlikely. Charlie Hasler’s way of writing is simple yet profound. He has a way of hitting the hammer straight on the…

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The Ring Walk

All quiet now against the roaring crowd,

Head down through the taunts and cheers.

Focus is what grips

Not nerves

Nor fears.

A numb feeling of purpose and pride,

All doubt is cast, all cares aside.

It is now when the sprinting red eyed mornings will show their worth,

Pounding those weary feet,

Against the always awake and woken earth.

Skipping echo’s and razors the cracked dust ground,

While agile feet keep their beat and mirrors,

The guiding tone.

Rounds upon rounds sharpen the blade and arrow tip,

Burning the arms and fatten the lip.

Weeks of repetition ground down into a powder and paste,

While in the present is always bitter and venom the taste,

But sweeter,

Is a future risen arm.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

 

 

Words From An Unlikely Poet

Hi all,

My book will be available for free on Kindle between tomorrow and Sunday.

I would hugely appreciate it if you could spare the time to download it, have a flick through it and leave me a review on Amazon. I think there is an option on there for you to lend it to someone if you do so chose, you may not, you may think its awful.

British Amazon link as follows below, I am not sure if this link will work in the States etc but if you type the title of this post into Amazon it should come up.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=charlie+hasler

Cheers.

Charlie