As Good As His Last

A poet is only as good as his last poem

And I’ve lost my words

On a path that has strayed from sight


With dark shadows hanging on to me

My head bows under the weight

Of guilt, anger and pain


My legs wade through a fog

Of vowels and consonants

Jumbled and tangled non scenically


I am fake; I am fraud

I know this because I’ve been told

By the ghosts of my dark mind


They whisper, always whisper

Of my impending fall

And fall I do, over and over


Coming to rest in a bloody pool

Of garbled gibberish

Neck deep in debased humiliation


Copyright © JRFC April 2019
Image from Pixabay

A Little Bit Down

As you all know I’m a little bit down

You can see on my face I wear a frown

But don’t you worry for my today

It’s not permanent I’ll be okay


I sometimes wonder where this gloom comes from

Past misadventures, a vengeful maelstrom

A pack of white lies chasing after me

Bearing teeth hysterically


Universal retribution for the bad things I’ve done

A metaphorical jail sentence, an illusionary dungeon

An itch I can’t scratch, a thorn in my side

Similes and metaphors; can’t seem to avoid


So I’ll step back, sigh; count to ten

Just you watch as I take back my Zen

With psychic barriers and charms for luck

I’ll be up and at em causing mischief and havoc


Copyright © JRFC February 2019

Image from Pixabay

Voices in My Head

White noise in my ears

Attempting to drown out

The voices in my head

Taunting and teasing


“You suck!”


Out of its cage

Depressions grip takes hold

Its talons digging in

To soft matter


“Nobody like’s you”


Lifting the mania high

And dropping it in to

The barbed nest of dejection

To be swallowed


“You can’t do anything right”


Is there no release

No cure from this hideous

Invisible entity

That strangles the soul


“Don’t bother trying, you’re rubbish”



Copyright © JRFC November 2018
Image from Pixabay



It was all patriotic

For King and country

Ringing in their ears

They were prepared

Until the day came and the rains fell, mud caked, cold bit and the gas choked

 Whistles blew for them to climb, breach the trench walls and blood began to flow

As they felt the thousands of metal shards speeding by, slicing, piercing; killing

In their prime; on those fields they ran out of time far too early, far to young

In our celebrations remember them 

In our freedom mourn them

As their families would 

Mothers, Fathers

Wives, Children

Those soldiers sacrifice

Their bravery, their deaths

That gave us our freedom

A heavy price to pay


Copyright © JRFC October 2018
Image By Pixabay, modified by JRFC