Saturday Food Shop


Up, after extra 4-minute lie in,


Extra butter, its Saturday,


Bring iPad in bathroom,

Create playlist,

14 mins later,

Name playlist,

“Shower playlist”,

Rush shower,

Only play half of one song,


Clothes, scruffy wear, shop wear,

Not bothered how I look wear

Is bothered,

Is so incredibly, mystifyingly, bothered.

Drive to food shop,

Slight weekend euphoria in the air,

Remember that thing that needs sorting,

Merry go round it starts to turn in my head,




Stress about thing,


Plan to do an easier thing.

Back to food shop drive,

Man, with yappy demanding dog,

Wait no, my mistake,

That’s his child, drinking an energy drink,

No doubt a potential future genius,

Or failing that,

Placed on the spectrum somewhere,

Never just,


Early morning runner smashing #goals, coming in the opposite direction,

Incredibly depressed once, not anymore,

Fair play.

Arrive at shop,

Shop the for big shop,

Big Saturday shop,

Rock and roll.

Knows the isles of by heart,



Pick up,

Put back,

Head for something over on that rack.

See man getting it in the ear,

From his darling


Oh dear, poor bloke,

I reckon he is called Nigel, looks like a Nigel, was a wild-eyed wanderer back in the day,

What day was that Nigel?

Don’t ask him, he can’t remember, the memory has been pecked out of him.

Move past,

Engage evasive manoeuvres for lady pushing pram,

Sorry I didn’t move quick enough,

I will dive faster next time,

Mother with child everyone, coming through! I call,

To alert the others in her path,

War path,

He dosent look at me the same path,

He likes that woman in work I know he does path,

She’s younger path,

Should never have had kids’ path,

Can’t you see I have a pram?


Hit till now,

Right, let’s have it,

Fire my items down the black rolling strip to the tone of the beep,

Person on check out dosent even register me,

Registers everything else though,

Hawk eye, fastest scanner in the West,


Already guessed amount,

Being the “Rain Man” shopper I am,


Pack car with items,

What did I forget?

I always do,

To hell with it, I’ll just have to chance it,

I got to get out of here,

Chest tightens,

Sweat forming on back,



I can’t go back,

They will all know I forgot something,


Followed by the subtle eye roll.

Forget it,

I am off,

Worst case scenario,

I can stop at another shop,


Solved that crisis,

Like a champion.



Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler.




Vampire (edited version)

I am the vampire in your life, causing the pain and supplying the strife.

Sucking the marrow from your core and helpless soul,

Taking your life,

And consuming it whole.

No cross nor spike, nor illumination light, will help you against,

 My worry, my pain,

My plight.

I am the vampire who takes control, contorting and reshaping your helpless soul.


Hold your bible close, say your prayers, you’re in this nightmare now,

With all my worries,

With all my cares.


The vampire you see is not me, it is a mirage of the man,

 I used to be.

And feed I will on your burning light,

Consuming and fading,

Your inner might.

But stay strong, resist my will, fight back and battle still.

The night is long,

As they say.

But have faith in me,

And bring back the man,

I used to be.

Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler




Hollow empty words.

Daily words dribbled from our locked mouths,

Pre programmed smart phone mouths,

Borrowed knowledge mouths,

Teacher knows best mouths,








From our front of house heads,

Our high five minds.


In the back of the warehouse,

Where we store our fears,

Our tears,

Our powder fuelled,

Power years,


With our come alive words,

No pretences, or fences,

Free for all,

The best words,


this is what I mean as I staple the note to your forehead words,

The words that punch and slap you awake,

Slice offence,

For slicing offences sake.

Pull down the barrier, break down the gate.

I love you more than I can say,

Till all is nothing and no more.

I hate you, right down to the pits and the black of my very core.

I am really struggling, trapped behind this acceptance door.

I am sorry for all that I have done, it was my fault, I am to blame, I deserve this chain guilt and this iron weighted shame.

Well done I am so proud of all you have achieved,

We believed.

The rest is just 9 to 5.

Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler


Grey is where I stay,

The middle,

The indifferent,

The between,

Not always pitched jet, or polished black,

Nor always milky winter, or wonderland white,

Just grey, every day,

That’s depression,

They say,

Always grey.


So, like I say, this is where I am,

Stood on my selfish sullen spot.

Pretending to be happy,

For you oh so sensitive lot.

With your kaleidoscope eyes and rainy days,

Your oh never minds,

And come what mays,

Or my favourite,

Think of brighter days,

Not these depressing, depressing,



If I am not careful I may end up grey and alone,

With all the time in the world,

To sit and atone,

So very alone,

In my grey and lonely home.

How different would that be from the present and the now,

I am already alone in my head, face always set to scowl.

Howl, you all could in a room up on cloud nine, calling me up,

Not now, next time.

I have nothing to say,

Feeling grey.


I remain where I have always sat,

My thumb in my mouth, feeling sorry for myself,

Sorry about this,

Sorry about that,

And sorry for making you all feel,

So awfully terribly.


That being said, I am not sorry at all,

Hence I feel quite,

Almost happy,

While writing this selfish sounding,

Sombre scrawl.



Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler


Drive to work,

Average car, average speed,

Watch fuel, watch speed,

Turn on news,

Trump tweets, Putin, Brexit,

Turn off news,

Arrive, same destination, same time, ish,


Leave car, start on foot, want to laugh at something funny I heard the other day, can’t would look mental,

Smiling now, bite inner mouth to stop,


Uniform socially acceptable vacuous expression back on,

Chest eases,


Attractive couple walk past,

He loves himself,

She hates herself.


Pit stop,

Homogenised coffee chain,

Familiar coffee, safety coffee,

Overpriced coffee, indifferent coffee,

Reusable cups, I should do my bit, think of sea life,

Never end up getting one, pang of guilt,

Good idea though, uniform coffee ready,

That’s 1.6 million pounds please, only ordered a medium?

Exaggerated smile,

Same time tomorrow,

Back to scowl.


Resume death march,

Should park closer,

Enter building, scan to get in,

Take lift,

Should take stairs, Fitbit, steps,

#Goals, seeking perfection, never enough, failure,

See another person, hello, don’t care,

Pretend to care, goodbye,

Aim for desk,

Sit. Die inside.


Working now,

Doing work stuff



Now, like a machine gun,


Email stuff now,

Talking work now,

Rushed now,

Everything ends up later……now,

It keeps the lights on work, going to explode work, flip my desk work,

I will tomorrow, out in a verbal blaze of glory,

Then oh shit,

Time to go, check Fitbit, #goals, more failures, chasing star bursts, why?

Its not that bad, means to an end, as they say, who is they?


Travel home, dinner, already prepped, save time,

Piggy bank time, for kids I don’t have yet, don’t like kids, for tomorrow, never today,

Healthy, clean, green, cardboard flavour, nicer than unhealthy,

No, it isn’t,

Prefer a burger, can’t, not Saturday,

Watch waistline, why? happy how I am,

Shouldn’t be, could be better, but make sure you are body confident,

But be healthy,

But be beautiful,

But be body confident,

But be healthy,

But be beautiful,

But be body confident,

Another machine gun, but but but but,

But find a balance,

In a time of tight ropes.



Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler




Love & Light

Searching, always between the lines, the present and yesterday’s dusty memories, he wanders in search of his atonement.

Moment, there happened one once, back on an older page. Rage, that created this shell of a man, this lasting sadness.

Madness, he is locked by the chain and bolted to the floor, the key has been thrown, he can’t it take any, more.

Pour, he did his empty heart upon the salt stained page, Inside his lonely memory, his lonely memory cage.

Rage, as he tries to turn the page, the weighted bastard page, ten ton bricks page, heavy in his mind,

Kind, he hopes and tries to be, gentle and set free from the guilt that accompanies we, he, me

My time is spent too much in shadows of the grey, prey to the black dog and rain clouds.

Shrouds, my days, covers me from crack to falling sun, won, most days the race is not,

Rot, I do further into the arms of my chair, dead eyed and trance to all who pass,

Glance, a spark a flicker of joy spreads the face of this lost little boy, then lost,

A lost cause wars, battle scared, a figure of speech, mind breaks screech,

Reach hold my out hand, I will be free from this mental mind hell land,

Stand, I will again, against the slamming shutters, against the rain,

Pain, no more, I will be free from these chains, invisible to all,

But, me, blind the rest to the daily test, to the pick and lock,

The deafening tick and tock of that forever clocking clock,

Rock, I who of stone, no lights needed to guide me,

Home, roam I do from pillar and finishing post,

Coast, my days, repeating myself, to all, to,

No one, to me, to we, like a cyclops I see,

My life in threes, start, middle, end,

Pretend, to smile, to not want,

An end, my friend, my love,

I will return to your arms,

The night is longing but,

The day will be ours,

I will return to you,

Moth to a flame,

Do burn bright,

My love



Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler.


Ball and Chain

The ball weighs heavy on this chain

Swollen ankles clasped web tight

Conditioned filtered brain.

Heavy this lead ton titan ball,

And clinking clunking chain.


Pulling us down down down

Along the spit mud ground

Along this austerity track.

Breaking and broken dreams,

Sit shattering on our shattered china back.


We pile from driven pillar to nailed wayside post

Once wide eyed grasping souls,

Present virtual eyed reaching ghosts.

Ghouls of yesterday’s promise and brighter burning dawns

Better days, current reality mourns.


Freedom of speech an ironic tale,

As free as a bottled sailing ship

No winds to sail,

Inside this bottled acceptance ship.

The righteous and offended hoards seal the cork top tight.


The ball continues to weigh heavy on this Maggie Farm chain.

Down down down in the salt dirt and chipping clementine rust,

The asylum doors have been flung open

The last silenced daggers have been thrust,

And all the unborn ankles, await the ball and chain.



Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler.

Promised A Diamond, Given A Spade – (old post)

Richest divide back-dropped against poorest side,
Poorest side losing to society’s advancing,
Advancing credit tide.

Credit given hand over fist
Then cracked back by cracking whips,
Whips bought and paid,
People offered short lived diamonds that fade.
Promised a diamond, given a spade.

Spades dig only down,
Down further into sticky mud
Created by this credit flood.

People dig with breaking backs
Dig at the man’s tax dodging tracks,
Derail this train on these inequality tracks
Take off the straw from these camels backs.

No more turning of perfumed cheeks
Or looking down past judging beaks,
People need help to stand,
A caring pull, a gentle hand.


Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler