When I close my eyes , I see the time when youth was on my side and exuberance filled the heart .
Hungry for life , looking for nothing but wild and crazy times , holding only one hope for the future to attend to its self .
I didn’t get too far , but not for the lack of trying , but nothing stopped me and I just kept on going leaving a trail of destruction .
In the quiet times I’d be lost in my mind and in the wild times I’d be lost in fun , I’d be always awaiting life to move my soul forward and my eyes would look and dream towards the stars for the contented days to come .
Days and nights were indeed spent alone while raving with lunatics under the midday sun and midnight moon whilst searching of the land for better drugs , leaving no stone unturned and wondering if life has truly begun .
I didn’t get too far , but not for the lack of trying, but nothing stopped me and I just kept on going leaving a trail of destruction .
Now wisdoms and age fill the heart and wisdom is older than me , now I have my brand new start but life is always hard and harsh , for I find I am still at the crossroads all on my lonesome with a weary heart .
Under The Midday Sun Of youth .
By Mark Higham .
I haven’t posted anything for a time , this is because I’m arranging my poems which are mostly about mental illness and recovery and everything that inspires my recovery , a recovery that is life long .
As a Savant with autistic and the problems they give , but it’s a different complex life history that is hard for others to understand , it’s going to be hard to put into words for all to understand.
I’m getting all my poems and self recovery stories in one place and copyrighted and whilst doing this saving for an upgrade for iPad Air to iPad Pro , plus and upgrade for a better site on WordPress .
So please bear with me for a while and I’ll be back soon in a much better format .
See you soon guys and thank you all for your follows and support.
the stomach is empty every day
the memory stretches long to remember the last meal
hunger strikes hard and causes pains
a griping feeling twisting time and again
the clothes upon the back worn and frayed
thread bare shoes tied together with old lace
laces strung together to keep shoe and sole in place
the grumbling stomach echoes poverties shame
there’s a roof above , but it’s not a home
there’s a floor to sleep on , but it’s far from home
the heater doesn’t work and it’s dank and cold
there’s no furniture, poverty again causes echoes
wall to wall nothingness, empty and alone
no one calls , no post just thoughts for company
imagination runs amok with visions of comfort
the greyness of hunger hangs with hopelessness upon poverties face
an expression that goes ignored along with any pleas
those same old clothes hang dreadfully upon gaunt – thinning – pale and boney body
no one cares in a society with no social responsibility
no one cares when no ones on side
a society where everyone looks the other way
it’s a cruel world where people turn a blind eye
poverty is etched upon the face and digs deep down making lines of a poverty frown
The Look Of Poverty .
By Mark Higham .
Heartful , wholesome , warmth , giving and compassionate ,
Desirable , sharing , caring , loving and soulful .
Goodness , gracious , peaceful , thoughtful and delightful ,
Beautiful , insatious , delicious , vivacious and perfection .
Fulfilled , enchanted , successful , adventurous and affectionate ,
Insightful , gifted , splendid , panache and all things wonderful .
Youthful , romantic , happy , unpretentious and phenomenal ,
Captivating , inspirational , gentile , temperate and tranquil .
Fragile , forgiving , irresistible , scrumptious and inimitable ,
Lustful , trustful , captivating and all things magical .
A Description Of You ,
By Mark Higham .
where the softest candle light flickers and flows .
Listen to the gentle beats of the heart and feel an increasing calm .
The inner voice of criticism has many wily – ways
spiteful words and from a distance in many a’curse ,
but the inner voice of compassion sounds out across the inner universe .
Humanity has but one voice ,
a voice of reason , understanding , love and freedom ,
for we are all men of the world ,
mothers of the Earth and children of peace .
They all dwell within where only the inner eye can see , feel and hear ,
trust in your inner voice of kindness ,
to quell the inner voice of harshness .
And the stars of the inner universe will open their light to guide you ,
to get you across the darkness and give you a warming glow ,
with every word of love – to yourself and others and the whole will know ,
and trust in the feeling that inner peace is where peace on a Earth truly begins .
And I know music is magic because I hear it sing ,
Fly agaric mushrooms from the earth do Spring
and to the whole of the moon my heart does swoon ,
Hallucinations and feelings of love
Flying free within colours with the peaceful loving silver dove .
All my loved ones past and present
Skip along the rings of Saturn ,
Or dwell within the aurora of Jupiter ,
Rhyme with the echoes of supernovas and
Dance with all that’s yet to come .
Smiles a’bound within the colour of rainbows we drown ,
In colours unseen we cheerfully sing .
Tasting fruits of shimmering reflection .
With feelings like these no need for direction ,
Free as the birds is the unchained soul
And upon the shoulders are glowing stars .
Within the heart angelic laughter ,
Drifting , floating weightlessly and remembering ecstasy
Whilst surrounded by the love of like-minded people ,
Dancing , swaying , chanting in togetherness
In a surreal world of difference far from bleakness .
The colour of love wrapped in LSD and comforted from
The sounds of love that come from musical notes that above our heads float free .
Simply Freedom .
By Mark Higham .