The Types Of Love

It’s cruel, this thing called love

It tears you half apart

And when you’re down, on the ground

It lifts up your heart

It tricks you, confuses you

Till you no longer know fake from real

These feelings and emotions

Are hard to conceal

Some people say it’s magic

And they are talking sense

How two people

Can stay together

Through the cracks and the dents

When you’re out in the streets

And a couple walk down the road

Holding hands, smiling, laughing

Carrying their daily shopping, load by load

But unrequited love

Is the worst kind

Tears falling down your face

And a song replaying in your mind

Knowing that you’d give

Everything that you had

To see that person smile

Makes you turn mad

It rips out your sanity

And throws it on the floor

But then you come back

Asking it for more

Because no matter how much

Your heart breaks in two

It will always become mended

Fixed with a powerful glue

As love is not a choice

A decision or a game

It’s purely fate

Only luck

That draws the next name.

Merry Christmas

So I wrote this poem

Just to say

Have a happy Christmas

A warm and cosy day

Bake some hot mince pies

The twinkle in people's eyes

Snow falling from the sky

Everyone's moods are high

Have a Merry Christmas

With lots of fun

Smiles all around

Gone away is the sun

Snow is here instead

Like cornflakes painted white

It drops out of the sky

All throughout the night.

Fairground

The merry go round

Moved in time

To the strong scent

Of cooked sausages

Whilst children chuckled

And chains clanged

The haunted house

In all its hostility

Invited people in

Purged them of breath

Toffee apples and

Tomato sauce

Enticed the hungry

And the sugar starved.

The Orange

At breakfast I tried an orange

The acid made my mouth swell

I threw it in the rubbish bin

And chucked the orange juice as well

That orange it made me so angry

My body can’t cope with such fruit

I moaned about it for the rest of the day

Until everyone wished I was mute

The rest of the day was crap

My sore throat and headache got worse

I’m beginning to think that that orange

Was poisoned, or filled with a curse. 

(Inspired by Wendy Cope's poem The Orange)

Science & Faith

Love isn’t science

And science isn’t love

But together, combined

They mix and match

The feeling of butterflies

Flying around your stomach

Cold clammy hands

And a flushed blushing face

This feeling is a trick

That we fall for every time

It’s disguised as love

But re-creates the human race

Fire in your eyes

It’s a biological scheme

Designed to make you feel

Weak at the knees

You won’t find heart and soul in the stars

But the universe is another matter

You can break everything down to chemicals

But your heart can still shatter.

(Inspired by The Script's song Science & Faith)

Oak Tree

The Oak tree stands

Tall and proud

Hundreds of years old

Was here before the town

How many secrets

Has this tree heard?

How many lines

Has this tree earned?

Perhaps a young lad

Tied a noose to a branch

Broke his neck in the jump

Left his death down to chance

A sixteen year old girl

And seventeen year old guy

Lost their virginity

Under the tree, drunk and high

This Oak tree knows

So much more than me

This Oak stands

Alive and free.

You Wouldn’t Have Guessed

She put her hair up in a bun

Applied red lipstick, mascara

Thick eyeliner, face powder, blusher

Her perfume was sweet, but

too strong, too much. Overwhelming.

When she walked out the door

You’d assume she was going

on a date, for a meal or a work do.

She bought a packet of Marlboro Lights,

lit one and inhaled the smoke,

popping her Prozac with a bottle of

Scotch whisky. She’d never liked

the taste. Sexist – but a man’s drink.

The bridge over the Thames

was busy with life, people – humans.

It didn’t take long to climb the railings,

ignoring the ‘We’re in your corner’ sign.

You wouldn’t have guessed. It was just

a normal day. But – it was her last day.