Oh, The Dreamer ... Oh, The Price

Hi,

How are you going?

Are you a dreamer? Were you one?

This is an old poem. Maybe ten years. I've got plenty that have never seen the light of day.

Excuse the dust.

 

A life as a wish

 

I’m tired of my dreams

Both real and imagined

One permeates my day

Propelling

Compelling

Ceaseless voice.

The other

Eating away at my nights

The disappointments

And woes

Of my subconscious

Dissolving me up

From the inside

Out.

 

Maybe they can come true

So I hear

From those few who’ve made it

But the truth comes at a cost

And the toll is already high.

 

It is more than tiring

It is a whittling away of the senses

Blazing

Charring

Never satisfied.

 

I’m exhausted

And realise 

I’m running out of energy

And patience

And only wish

To be left alone

From these dreams

The internal

Eternal

Curse of the Dreamer.

 

 

Being a creative in a cultural desert like Australia, has been the bane of my life. There's so few avenues and without a close connection, it's mostly been one disappointment after another. So many artists, musicians, actors, give up as the industry cannot sustain them. There's no money in it. Only for a select few. And it's such a small industry that those in it, don't want to share so only look after close associates. Same as with any niche industry. A case of who you know.

30 years of disappointments takes it toll.

So now I don't give a fuck. I put my work out there myself, for those few who do appreciate it. And I really appreciate them. You.

Next week,

A cheeky piece of Satire

Coming Soon,

The Feel Good Series - 10 short videos. 

My Poetry

Famous After Death

P E R V E  and other Books OUT NOW