Nothing Changed

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Communication, creative, Depression, Fear, hope, nostalgia, Nothing changed, poems, poetry, verse, writing

Nothing really changed at all,

The mark still stayed upon the wall,

And as we looked for something new,

Behind our backs it grew and grew.

Though we thought that we’d moved on,

The chains that held us were not gone,

And darkness clouded all our arts,

And spread its blackness through our hearts.

Things we thought that we had tamed,

Clung to our shadows hurting, maimed,

To heal themselves when night took hold,

Our sweetest dreams to then enfold.

In the light it brought its gloom,

In every corner, every room,

The stain it grew with fitful glee,

To pin us here and make us see.

Every footstep brought us here,

But never freed us from our fear,

Hung heavy over every head,

And coloured every word we said.

Dreamed we’d come so very far,

Our feet stuck fast in blackened tar,

We felt we had so much to prove,

Only to find we couldn’t move.

And nothing really changed at all,

The mark still stayed upon the wall,

And as we looked for something new,

Behind our backs it ever grew.

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Dreams Fall Down

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creative, Depression, dreams, Dreams fall down, Monsters, Nightmares, poems, poetry, verse, writing

Dreams fall down like shadows slow

Can’t stop them now, can’t even try,

I feel them shroud me like a curse

Can’t see behind a clouded eye.

These tremors take my sweated hand

Can’t shake them off, can’t cut them loose,

I feel them chill my aching bones

Can’t rid myself, a waiting noose.

They drag me through mistakes I’ve made

Can’t justify, or reason why,

They show me futures drowned in pain

Can’t close my ears to other’s sighs.

Devils dance and duel within

Can’t stop the tune, can’t still the sound

A masquerade, no end in sight

Can’t hide my face or go to ground.

Voices call inside me now

Can’t make my own be heard instead,

They pull me into depths unknown

Can’t heal the scars inside my head.

Dogs are barking at the walls

Can’t silence them or stop their call,

They speak to me my greatest fears

Can’t hide from them, can’t hide at all.

And dreams fall down like shadows still

Can’t stop them now, can’t ask for more,

I feel them shroud me like a curse

Can’t see beyond the gaping door.

Wrapped Within

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creative, Depression, Fear, Love, poems, poetry, verse, Wrapped Within, writing

Across the blue across the green

I’ll come to you and stay with you

A silent itch beneath your skin

The things you hold, the old the new,

Beneath the silver silken moon

You’ll see my shadow feel my sigh

And in an instant know my name

And catch my heart and catch my eye,

Deep in the dark below the sun

I’ll wrap myself within your beat

And seep inside your every breath

Beneath the light beneath the sheet,

And when my eyes close in the black

Your light will shine behind my lid

As mine stays deep within your soul

A love to never be outbid.

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As It Ever Was

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age, As it ever was, creative, Depression, hope, loss, nostalgia, poems, poetry, time, verse, writing

And when at last the dust

That had crept into our eyes and

Scratched its frozen images

Deep within our hearts and minds

Began to fall

Did we find that we had found

All that we were looking for

The prizes and rewards that we

Had promised ourselves

So many lifetimes before?

Or did our vista still contain the

Dreams that we had always known

Were nothing more than that

No more than the pictures that we

Had painted with the hands

Of children fleeing from the night?

And all the promises that we had cast

Like yarrow stalks, now pebbles on the beach

Had given up their secrets to the sea

And washed themselves with the briny tears

That we had shed so freely

Thinking that they would be gone

Spent like the pennies we cherished in

The youth we dreamed away so soon

Before we learned to mourn its death

And let the black sank deep within

A storm that never passed

The ghost of all the days we thought

Would one day come to life

And take our hands

And lead us to all that grew on trees so near

So far from reach

But now through thinly veiled eyes

The scratches fall away

And through the sinking mists we see

All as it ever was.

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2021

Something to Say

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Communication, creative, Depression, loss, Love, nostalgia, poem, poetry, Relationships, Something to Say, verse, writing

There was something that I wanted

To say to you

Before the feeling was drowned

By words

In the moments when the ghosts

Moved amongst us

Like silkworm strands

Their delicate beauty their strength

Eclipsing the hands as they swept away

The stories that we had been sold

Before the skies grew dark above

Our heads

In the days when the ghosts

Drifted from our sight

Like cataract clouds

Their flailing hands now skeletal

Lost behind the numbers that fell from our eyes

Leaving nothing but the dust.

There was something that I wanted

To say to you.

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

Metal Boxes

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Communication, creative, Depression, loss, Metal Boxes, poems, poetry, verse, writing

We hide our thoughts

And faces behind

The fantasies we build

In metal boxes,

The melted sand panes

Reflecting back the cold

Outside,

Holding in our voices

As if they belonged to us

And yet still they slip,

Unruly children,

Through our fingers

As they grasp too late

To ideas on the winter breeze

The chill that keeps us

Safe inside,

Open-mouthed we gasp the poison

That bleeds into our sanctum

Wishing that the journey was worth

The destination,

That our voices would join

With those we hold

In silent esteem,

That we could stay

Forever cocooned in glass and steel,

That all we would be

Would lead us home.

P

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

Out of Sight

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Communication, creative, Dependency, Depression, lyrics, Out of Sight, poems, poetry, verse, writing

Well I don’t think that I

Can take this anymore,

When I’m lying here again

On the kitchen floor,

With a drowning heart

And the bottles all dead,

And the countdown ringing

Echoes in my head.

Outside in the black night

Where the voices still ring,

Each one a bit louder

To mask out everything,

But later much later

Beneath blankets they crawl,

In stuporous dreaming

Denying the fall.

And when the Sun comes around

See the time’s just the same,

Don’t reach too deep inside

To find someone to blame,

Close your eyes to the day

And hold on to the night,

Keep the cellar door locked

And the demons out of sight.

Well I don’t think that I

Can take this anymore,

When I’m lying here again

On the kitchen floor,

With a drowning heart

And the bottles all dead,

And the countdown ringing

Echoes in my head.

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

Different Shores

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Belief, Communication, creative, Depression, Different Shores, faith, hope, isolation, nostalgia, poems, poetry, Roots, verse, writing

We set sail for different shores

A chance to greet new horizons

And carve a name where once was none

To plant our feet on holy ground,

We threw our maps into the sea

To trust to luck and winking stars

And casting dreams upon the winds

Our faith forever in the brine,

We sought the land birds on the wing

Strained our ears to hear their song

And when the call came from the crow

We took to task with hungry hands,

We welcomed in the virgin green

As if we’d never loved before

And set our rootless feet upon the shore

But never felt the tendrils grow,

We let our restless eyes look back

To all the things we’d left behind

And heard our past love’s whispered words:

“Come back, come back, come home to me.”

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

Untitled

Tags

creative, Darkness, Depression, Lost, night, poems, poetry, Untitled, verse, writing

Born into the night

Sharp-suited, black

Against the shadows,

Felt your footsteps

Cold and soundless

Tracking,

Each placed deep within my own,

Your breath,

Chill upon my neck

As your words swirled,

Like birds lost in the warmth

Of early winter,

Around my head,

My back sheltered by 

The uneasiness of your coat

Wrapped about my shoulders,

Felt your hands eat

Into my formaldehyde mind,

Sowing the seeds for a harvest

Misted by candle-wick days

Which devoured the light

And led the Sun to its

Uneasy bed,

Born into the night

Cut from the promise of light,

Against the shadows

I felt your footsteps.

 

An older poem that has appeared before but vanished!

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

 

 

Lies We Weave

Tags

creative, Depression, free-form, Lies We Weave, Life, Philosophy, poems, poetry, Relationships, verse, writing

The lies we weave
Hang from the ceilings
Of the rooms
We dreamed up once
Upon a time
In nighttimes held in
Hands so large and warm
We never had to breathe,
They hold us there
Afraid to move or break
The cord that winds its
Silken thread
About our limbs
Until the will to step from corners
Dies and lies in silence
A shell bereft of care,
And still we spin
Draw in those who fly
Too close or
Cannot feel the risk
We show so plain
To believe the lies we say
As if they were anything but
The web we sleep within.

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020