The big mood
I wash the pots,
smiling my little head off
because my hearts being commanded
by the sky, so clean,
to sing like all the birds
it allows to soar across its body.
Is there anything more majestic
than the feeling of anxiety
exhaling out of yourself on a warm Spring day?
And don’t you feel wonderful about it,
until you wish you weren’t being happy
on your own?
It’s a reminder, isn’t it, that at some point
there’ll come a moment
where it’ll all crash into oblivion,
like a thousand clouds fallen to the earth,
and you inhale all of that anxiety back in,
look back up to the sky,
your cycle about to begin again.
All the doors are locked
You sit in a room dimly lit by a lamp on the table.
You decided an hour ago to just stay at home and chill tonight.
You've got a spliff going and are watching the TV after tea
when suddenly, out of some crevice of the mind,
there creeps an overwhelming sense of uneasiness,
and despite the drizzle dripping from a purple sky
you put out the spliff and put on a coat,
before going out to walk in the streets, no longer
with the fear of falling now that the snow has melted into the concrete.
So you see, everything is the same as it was before.
Snow is temporary, it all melts away in the end,
and as you walk through these nocturnal streets,
empty and silent, mysterious and keepers
of secrets from warm, well lit houses,
you feel reassured and reinvigorated by the
normality of rain fall, and your legs just keep going and going,
as if they alone are dictating your destination.
And before you know it, you're knocking on the door
of a mate at stupid o'clock in the morning,
curious to know how life is treating him these days,
and are welcomed with a laughter that echoes
long into a placid night, and all
of your troubles fade into a backdrop.
(Craig Snelgrove is a writer of poetry and short fiction from Manchester, UK. Craig has worked in mental health for over three years as a mental health support worker)
The Beautiful Space-