Needing art




Some dreams seem more
alive than life.

But once that sleep escapes
I’m back
unwillingly awake again.

Since neighbour’s music blasted out.
Their noise destroying


The chair looks sharp
through morning light
quite rigidly austere.

While on the bed
I read
my name in forms
and notice
how those two words
used officially
feel blank
or incomplete.


“It’s loneliness.
Mere state of mind.”
I say to lift morale.

As questions spring from questions
after rising with unease.

Why is being insufficient?
Are such problems spiritual?

Hence needing art
because existing’s
simply not enough.

Though if one had achieved all goals
might boredom slowly grow?


Yet when this seeker
seeks himself


these anxious


The destination


I cannot








( Hi guys!

My prose has gone and poetised itself, again.

I wrote about this in:

The strange magic of blogging

(Past works are categorised according to their original form,
rather than how they’ve ended up.
Apologies for any confusion.)

Wary of resisting creative processes (especially after enduring 13 years unable to write poems) I am “going with the flow”, even if boundaries get blurred.


Any art on the blog is mine:  hope you like it?

Comments are always VERY welcome!

Thank you for reading.)



( anxiety / art / blog / blogging / depression / drawing / life / mental health / poem / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )

3 thoughts on “Needing art”

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