IAN SINGLETON - POEMS

Ian Singleton resides in Wales. He writes poetry, music and is also an artist. He has taken part in open mic events and is an avid gardener and cook.

Filthy Floor Fader
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​My potatoes fall down like rain
Skin inside out like fame
The blown grass fluttered over my face
And reminded me of the ocean
With the stones between my toes I was home
People are like a tight balloon they only
Stop letting air out manually
Why do we struggle to stay awake to experience life?
With play dough we stick ourselves back together
A bright future all will be the same
Velvet pretence it’s uncouth to be there
Let it pass like everything you are.

The Missing Link
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​You only miss me because I’m gone.
My departure could not have come as a shock; there were times when you just shook.
I am back from the earth where we all came from
Give yourself purity of heart for a start match me case by case
And don’t be afraid if you mistake a good intentioned thought you are one of many.
The things we hold dear are quite often our fears.
What brought us together will never break because we are all connected like a chain.

The Most Meaningless Question
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​How many times have you been asked the most meaningless question?
What do you do for a living?  And is living for you?
Does living own you or do you own living?  Putting a price on life just seems unfair.
I am me by being invisible.
Please stop me from being risible.
The nosy people want to know so they can judge you, the real people sit and listen to other
people’s stories.  Make believe what you will, the fantasy is one you won’t win.
I denounce cynicism in all its forms, listen to the other side and be drained, but be right for real.
You can lose yourself in thought, but never be bought on the lies that others tell you.
 

The Truth
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​The thing about truth is that it is subjective nobody has ever trodden a wrong foot to find themselves neglected.
We are all self-serving to a degree.  The making of atoms can be tireless work.
The friction you find yourself in is a matter of circumstance, free and reverential.
What does it mean to be self-obsessed?
It means to sit in judgment.
Acceptance is strength when taken under supervision.
Where does it all come from? Is it locked inside like a ghost? Like a fugitive?
Control is everything.
Bringing conciseness to light is an arduous task we are buried under our own thoughts.
Peak your head above them and breathe because that is what we are all worth the common phrase.
To sigh to rest and feel.. To fade