Alone in the quiet I often sit
Within the walls I no longer fit
Being what I am, now unbound
Who I am, nowhere to be found

Beyond all concept, bereft of thought
Shed the bonds that time has bought
The storybook closed on another day
A tale believed, with a life we pay

Within, without, one and the same
Taught the rules, we play this game
Delusion often sets the rules
Many sail upon this ship of fools




Comfort In My Friends

Art_Lester River









Alone with my thoughts,

they speak, form and flow,

alliteration with a purpose

undulating to and fro.


Words that speak to me,

ideas form and grow,

from my thoughts to my pen,

onto the page my friends flow.





I say some words, already regretting the sounds

My heart rises, guarded, at the chance of a smile

Boredom and irritation are the reply

Barely hidden in absent glances of disinterest


I know the words were not heard

The response automatic, disconnected

Intention doesn’t make it any easier

Or make the heart-fall ache any less


So many other places I could be

But my heart is tied to this time and place

Her screens soft light shows her distant smile

So I smile sadly and stay a little while longer



We Search

A different Life, a better Life
Missing what stares us in the face
Every sight, sound and smell

In the trees and flowers, a sunset
The roar of traffic, the beating of a heart
Within these words and outside of them

In the white of the paper and the black of the ink
In the space and in the silence
The in-between and the unseen, in the visible

In the throb of life and the peace of death
The cry of a baby, and the death rattle of the old man
In everything, as everything, life sings

The word ‘universe’ literally means ‘one song’.



Between where I am and where I wish to be

Is the measure of all stress

Between what I have and what I want

Is just a reason to impress


Between who I am and yet strive to be

Is the measure of this lie

Between what has been and is yet to come

Is a story into which we buy


Between that moment and the one not born

Is a world, stunning and free from strife

So I will sit and reengage

This mystery we call life