Things I’ve Tried To Be Happy


Chasing the snowy cotton tail,

Rambling the Indian travel trail,

Fucking the bearded sexy male,

Consuming the vegan super kale.


Winning the mega-bucks client,

Acting-out tall like a giant,

Fitting-in the system compliant,

Railing against it defiant.


Toning the belly thin,

Guzzling down the gin,

Sleeping skin on skin,

Permanently touching him.


Partying through the morning,

Finger up to the anxiety warning,

Eradicating the existence of yawning,

Refusing to ever be boring.


Writing – obsessively writing,

Thrill-seeking all things exciting,

Hair fibres regularly whitening,

Embracing anything frightening.


Living in Cambodia and in the States,

Tripping about on Tinder dates,

Snuggling-up with a family of mates,

Only seeing plays that the Guardian rates.


Wiring-in to bangers all day long,

Existing in a bubble with one perfect song,

Tearing down walls to trust and belong,

Building up walls to defend and be strong.



(Reality is constructed by how we choose to see,

Rather than madly searching, it’s better to just be,

A person, a place, a thing, none of these hold “the key”,

Inside we own the instructions, the aptitude to be free.)