About paulreesjones

There isn't much to say...I write...I sleep...I write some more. Sometimes here, sometimes in my head...I am odd.

And I.

And I can’t stop crying

For the lost and the lonely

For the guns pointed at the weary

For the after thought that’s nearly

And I can’t stop crying

For the ones left in the cold

For child but also for the old

For the stories that are never told

And I can’t stop crying

For the masses starving

For the many grieving

For the desparate stealing

And I can’t stop crying

For the ones trapped in their heads

For the people that have no beds

For the people thinking they are better off dead

And I will never stop hoping

For a world that learns to love

For people that know it isn’t enough

For putting smiles finally above

And I won’t stop hoping.



Do the needles hurt your brain

As they hurt mine

With their imaginary points

Their made up steel

Seen by few

But they feel so real.

Does the silence hurt your ears

As it does mine

Too loud in nothing

The screams of quiet

Heard by no one but me

Starting a personal riot.

Faint Whisper (Flash Fiction)

It wasn’t that I needed to talk. My fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. The cell phone was staring at me as I dialled. I swear I heard it mocking me, it felt like the screen was judging my fingers for their weakness. I heard the ring, faint from the phone left at arm’s length. I didn’t need to talk, I was happy in the silence, finally had some peace and quiet…

“Dr Allan’s office, how can we assist you,”

Ah it was like a whisper, background noise that you heard but could ignore. My fingers found their courage. The screen went dark and my phone seemed to cheer in that split second. I could get the results tomorrow, my mantra these days, happiness in sweet ignorance. There can be many tomorrows.

Dreaming of waking.

spin in circles

a dance made for two

dizzying vertigo

stop and sway to and fro

imaginary symbols

of distance far away

squint too hard and

get a headache in the grey

all colours wash

from our pretty clothes

like drip dried petals

flying as the wind blows

spin faster to live

intoxicated by nonsense

breathing gets harder

the world seems more dense

fall down in laughter

let your back feel the dirt

breath in once more quickly

insanity’s such a flirt.



FALL Of man.

The wind is crisp

Like a cold hand on a warm day

Shivers down the spine

First day of colder days to come

People seem more rushed

Collars turned up against the cold

Or to shield themselves

From more than just the breeze

Less talk from the crowds

Less smiles against the changing leaves

It is the start of an end

Far away… but now in sight

The beauty in autumn

Sometimes lost in the pockets

Of heavier coats of armor

So begins another Fall of man.


The sky was once blue

The water was once clean

The rain…well…it didn’t burn

And there was grass, green grass.

I remember a thing called tree,

And wishing the summer days would last.

I remember the outdoor smell

Before the scent of grime.

I remember fish that swam,

Before the layer of oil.

I remember a world of light.

Before the world lost the fight.

Shed a tear

The end is near.