Conditional. Conditioned.

Freedom (supposed) in all things
The crux of what is truly wanted
The nature of this human desire
to look away from that….from them….which cause discomfort
Lock up truth in tall towers

Though this freedom be the desire
There’s much to be said
For the futility of imprisoning those
Already locked inside their own heads

Poem No. 39

He’s the quiet voice
That I need
But can’t always hear
Yet when my being is heavy
He lifts up my burdens
Helps lighten my load
Deep in my heart I feel Him
Deep in my being
He’s always near
When I’m cast adrift by the cruel acts of man
He’s always there to take my hand
To soothe my soul
Quieten my inner turmoil
Others may mock
Make jest, make light of the solemnity of Faith
But my saviour; Our Lord
Him, above all others
Will I never forsake
You have carried me through the deep
Through the darkest nights
My love upon high
My guiding light


The world has been forced to take stock
While chaos forces us to remain locked…
The freedom of man has been contained
We want to rise
Break free
From our boxes of inhabitation
But can’t, for fear
Of the fall of civilisation

What would you say to me

If we could do it all again?

Would we replay being lovers?

Or stay such sweet, bosom friends?

If I could have a do-over

I would pretend

Pretend that you and I were never real

Never, ever.

Never again.



Not to pursue riches, or vice

But to know that, in the quiet

I can breathe easy

At night, my rest will not be punctured by visions of bars

Nor will my words be muted by opposition

Freedom, to know

That a hearts simplest desires can be sought


Without fear of gaoler, or iron will