Clare McWilliams

Why do i drink, because I'm a writer?
Because I need a good haze in which to find
The fuzzy ponderings of my scattered mind.
...

I am frozen like the arctic
When I wish to polarize another
North and South of my heart
Realign, spin and switch
...

Into the breach, dear friends,
Here I go.
No, I think not, not this time.
I will use the pain to write,
...

He said he was in love,
I knew it was a lie.
He hadn't thought it through
Long enough, in my eye.
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Whispers on the wind
Colours of my mind
Smoke out of the chimney top
To heaven skyward wind.
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I should sleep, my neck it tells me so
But there within the cold quilt I'm alone.
I should sleep and leave this vile machine now
But it calls me to caress its keys once more.
...

Well now it's time to say goodbye,
Not time to talk, or time to cry.
I think that pride got in the way,
Of all the things I meant to say.
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Mother why did you go?
I needed you, selfish I know,
Gone to do anothers work?
...

Stripped to the very bare bones of my mind.
Hard Knocks casusing my heart to take flight
Flutter flutter- Sputter sputter.
Need for solitude
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Verse 1

Walked out of your life- And into the pub,
I could no longer keep you as lifes hub.
...

My little brother used to annoy me
But only cos I wanted him to be..
Better than me.
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Sun and rain they clash
To refract the light and make a haze of colours in the day.
This forces a smile from my weary face
And I appear as though a child in wonderland.
...

Music to lift the soul,
Sound sandwich fulfils a goal.
Both ears working in harmony
Hammer anvil stirrup euphony.
...

My body aches and longs for sleep
But my brain and pen conspire to disallow it.
The words slop and swill in a messy bucket of creative juice.
And my bones die slowly this night in my withering skin.
...

Death rips a hole out of your stomach
And prepares your throat for tears that never come.
Anguish wells up and bends you double,
Stricken, you must yield to crippling grief.
...

Jumblies, bumblies, crumblies...Sleepless nights, half there days, lost in the swirl of jaded imaginings, lovely things are always the most hurtful when you let them into your fragile realities to roam free, but to block them would mean experience not gained, life not lived and love not loved.
Far and few are the lands where I may find solace. My torturers swim in the dark pools of my mind and I try to drown them viciously. They are thrown life-rafts of temptation in tempests of tears. Thriving in the quagmire they re-surface again and again forcing me to relearn my strokes. Others see me ride the waves, yet do not see me sinking alongside them. But I am..

Down past the carnivores, the filter-feeders, the great and good guardians of the water. Eaten by the luminescent trappers who pretend to be something they are not, I am spat out, slightly chewed, weaker but wiser. I eventually lie on the bed of winter to replenish my stores, feeding on the scraps of the world.
...

A void of commercialism and misinformation,
It's the black hole of the television station.
Designed and arranged to make you believe,
Whatever Falsities THEY choose to weave.
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Into the shadows of my mind - I will bring you
If you let me..
If I love you.
But to worm into my soul? - It will take more
...

I met a man with inflection infection,
It was only a minor niggling imperfection.
But I couldn't get past it- it made me uptight,
Something in the tone of his voice wasn't right!
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Tense shoulders give the
Game away.
The non-worrier- worried.
...