Sit Down on this Couch (With a Shrink)


To sit down on this couch, I never thought

I’d be here, yet this strange life has brought

Me to this place, where I’ve become wrought

With these anxieties that have me caught

In the mousetrap of crippling past vocations

Haunting my mind and stilting aspirations

So here I find myself sharing my vexations

With a stranger, a long way off from elation

I sit down on this couch, not to think

But to carve open my head to a shrink

And let him see inside, how I just sink

Sometimes under life’s weight, the brink

Of fragility and battened up tears

Vulnerability and fattened up fears

That I try to hide but truth always rears

When nerves are fried, breakdown nears

To sit down on this couch, I now believe

Is the beginning of the long path to retrieve

The sense of balance and peace to conceive

Medicine for the silence and keys to relieve

The pressure that’s been building up inside

Gets less, the more I’m willing to confide

The more I’m willing to swallow my old pride

And learn the lessons that need to be applied

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THERE ARE FATHERS….


There are…

Fathers who should never have been

They simply weren’t designed

Nor had they desired

The responsibility which comes

With the title that they craved

They’ll never be called dad.

And as a result, have maligned

The holy sacrament of fatherhood

By their wilful abuse or neglect

Of their progeny, their seed

The way they defile and reject

Put their own needs

Ahead of their offspring

And fail to protect

As a result,

 

There are…

Mothers who are fathers too

Who get on with the business

Of parenting quietly, out of view

Without complaint

Who nurture and provide

For their child

Doing the work of two

In place of an absent father

Absent without leave.

Too many absences

Not enough time to retrieve

Lost moments because

You were scared or unready

Such mothers deserve

Special praise.

 

There are…

Fathers who have yet to be

Predestined if you will

Fantastic and naturally inclined

To fatherhood

Who would have been

Protective, caring, loving,

Patient and hands on

Always there.

But they could never find

The right partner

Or nature let them down

Playing tricks with

Their masculinity

Leaving them with a low count

And high emptiness

Doesn’t seem right.

 

Copyright of and

Written by Ken Hume

09/10/2017

A Man from Mars


A man from Mars
A tortured soul
An alien

Fallen from the stars

Far from home

Separated from his Venus

Now destined to roam

As a restless wanderer
Lost and alone
Cast out of the heavens

To atone

For some ancient sin
You can see the scars

You can see the wrong

 

He walks amongst us

From time to time

Only when he must

Only when he tries

To kill the loneliness

To uncover the rhyme

And reason for this test

Sometimes

He gazes towards the skies

Amidst the crowds

For a glimpse

Of the divine

To push through the clouds

And restore his sight

 

Then a light appears

And the spaceship descends

To take him back home

To bring his time on earth to an end

 

We are all aliens in a play

Strangers from distant planets

Looking for a way

To connect with other strangers

To make our stay

A little less lonely

More than okay.

To bring a little light

To bring a little ray

Of the supernatural

Into our everyday

 

Written by and copyrighted to Ken Hume

07/10/2017

 

 

OUTLINES OF MY DUSTY SOUL


Her piercing; searching eyes

Penetrate my mental fortress

Burning; prising open a hole

She sees straight through me

Right into the gaping depths

The outlines of my dusty soul

I avert my gaze from hers

So she won’t see the total mess

Inside. Until I regain control

For if she gets inside my mind

I will be forced to confess

That’s it. I’m done. I’m sold.

I’ll be hers completely

For a lifetime, more or less

My heart, she’s gone & stole

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Never Knew


I never knew what what Love was

Until the day that I met you

Cut open; excavated and lifted up

Out of your mother’s bloodied womb

Eyes wide open, sucking

your thumb, into the Theater room

Your curly hair, matted wet

With your amniotic cocoon

Not a cry out of you

It’d be safe to assume

That you had been around before

This place, it wasn’t new.

An old soul reincarnated

As a newborn baby whom

Was gifted to us

This love.

It grows deeper.

Every day

The more that you grow

The more that you play

With your fingers

And kick your feet

With a smile that lingers

And a look that keeps

Surprising & entertaining

Intriguing us too

How could we be complaining

When we’ve dreamed of you

Since conception

You’re everything we’ve hoped for

And more besides

Surpassing our expectations

With your inquisitive eyes

And your sensitive nature

Giggling at the ceiling

For no particular reason

Pushing yourself up

On your developing legs

Crying out for your bottle

Nearly holding it in your hands

Our Princess

 

We gladly submit to your commands

For this is your Kingdom

And we, your loyal subjects

 

 

 

 

TOOTHLESS WONDERS


Like pirates, they plunder

The very depths of society

For another toothless wonder

And their fucked-up family

Their lives torn asunder

For our consumption on TV

Screaming bloody murder

With a belligerent type of glee

And I’m left to wonder

Whether a bemused Jeremy

Instead of paying for their hotel

Might be better forking out for some dentistry

 

With holes in their arguments

As wide as the gaps in the teeth

They eventually come to an agreement

But they’re doomed to repeat

The same old mistakes and deceit

 

Brother accuses brother of stealing his watch

Wife accuses fella of putting pictures of his crotch

On secret dating sites, which he denies of course

DNA test finds him out, but still no remorse

 

Bickering sisters competing for the affections

Of a father or mother they never knew

Coming to terms with their rejection

While another fight brews

 

Running onto to the stage

They fly into a verbal rage

Separated by bodyguard Steve

You’d find it hard to believe

 

Running of the stage again; shouting down from the rows

When they want to have their say; when they’ve been exposed

As the liars & cheaters; victims or lovelorn

It’s easy to mock them, it’s easy to scorn

 

But, it’s their 15 minutes of fame

Revelling in the spotlight

Ignorant of the shame

That their contrived plight

Brings upon their name

Yet we the viewer lap it up in

Because it’s all part of the game

 

Reality comedy gold

For our guilty pleasure

Our sadistic amusement

A national treasure

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