Julien Crispin Street Poet, Faith Walker, Poet to the stars, the trees etc

my own small cell


It would have been harder
If it had ever touched
But I drifted slowly off
On the cloud that I had clutched
I remember  LEGO
I remember my big bed
I can’t remember all the fights
They had outside my head
The one’s the others say they had
Chuckin’ pans and pots
I'm sure they felt them all
‘Cos it tied them up in knots
But I was there in body
Though my mind was somewhere quiet
My ears the passive channels
For their unrequited riot
When we finally left
I thought I was O.K
But drifting on my cloud
I’d drifted far away
The means of my escape
Became it’s own small cell
I was at a distance
And the world could go to hell
Finding my way back
Was a thing I couldn’t do
So you came to me
So that I could come to you.

boxed set


It’s funny how people see me
Or perceive me
More to do with them than me
More to do with their life than mine
More to do with who they’ve met
Than meet me

It’s funny how people see me
Postulate discreetly
Their inner font of knowledge
How they know the real me
Some perspective only they see
But seen held up against me
And torn from all it’s dressing
It’s just a ruse they use
To beat me

It’s funny how people see me
Remark the way I ‘should be’
To realise my ‘could be’
Only then I really would be
Absolutely nothing like me

It’s funny how people see me
But then again
I look at you
What do I see

looking to leave

The Thought Don’t Count

I thought about going
But I stayed
I just knew I should
But I just delayed

I was almost at the point
Almost stepping out
Nearly packed my bags
Then I chickened out

I could have helped so many
Made a difference
Made a stand
But I haven’t helped, well, any
My heads still stuck in sand

He called me to the world
But I’m acting like a clown
Jesus did it all for me
I think I’ve let him down

white walls

Holding on

Holding on
To your smallest flame
The shard of hope
That might ignite
My pile of deadwood doubt
That might just
Pull me out
Of this test tube
Where i
No longer care
That those that don't know
Stare at this sad sight
This pool of me
No longer scaling
Polished  walls
Waiting waiting
To be poured out
Be told all's well
To hold
In my arms again
Willing willing
Wanting to trust
Trust  won't fail me
Leave me shattered

Leave me here now
Hands pressed
East & west
Only coping
Holding on
To your smallest  flame


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