I Still Care For Clare

To Clare I care, and I wanted you to know,

That my love for you does grow and grow.

You were beautiful to me, I want you to see,

That I am waiting for you nicely patiently,

As I have no intentions of any other mentions

Of female interactions, unwanted distractions

From focusing on you, my feelings are true

Come hither and stop me from feeling blue.

 

I hope you still feel the same way too,

I am quite lost without you to pursue.

You are beautiful, pretty and attractive,

And when we were interactive in positive

Endeavours, you meant the world to me,

Come back to me and set me aptly free.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 21/05/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Set Me Free

Clare will you come and set me free

From waiting for you to be with me,

You were an essence of tranquillity –

I was blind before I met lovely thee;

You have opened my eyes to so see

Life at it fullest in blissful, nice glee

With you so respectfully by my side

Not acting like a sad Jeckal and Hyde.

 

I'm on my own at this mention

And have been for a duration:

I'm suffering sadly without you,

My feelings for you were so true,

Help me from feeling down blue

Without you to lovingly pursue.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 01/12/2018

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

My Beautiful Daughter

Georgia has stealth in her chosen words,

As between the lines she is wisely heard

Advocating a true, committed friendship,

despite her sad struggles and hardship.

 

She is a true believer in deliverance;

And with perseverance, and adherence

To a morality of some noble standing –

Adhering to her Children’s demanding.

 

She delivers herself with strong loving

And pleasingly likes caring and sharing,

A Utopian with values of some worth

Wanting heaven from our hell on earth.

 

She fights the battle of humbly existing

With wisdom while aptly acknowledging

That we’re all Christian Sisters, Brothers,

So keeps her peace from hostile others.

 

She is a nourishment to savour

And is beautiful inside to favour

Loving aspirations from delegations

That exist in the mist of supplications.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 03/04/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

How I Suffered To Myself

I am tormented with some pressure,

I am indecisive of mad aggression,

My alter torments I with a measure

Of annoying sad mental suppression.

 

Punch first (a knockout blow),

Ask many questions later,

Duly kick them down below

With a force much greater.

 

This weather's my mind

To feeling stressed out,

Then I am liable to find

That my alter does bout.

 

Indecisive affray of my faculties

Render's I to be madly subjected,

And regrettably my sanity dies

As I feel rejected and dejected.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 14/03/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

A Shocking Experience

My past caught up with me,

From sharing my mentality:

Should I remain hospital free

All depends on my insanity.

 

I slapped a friend in the face,

A sad, remorseful disgrace

That I beat myself up about –

Riddled with mental doubt.

 

I was not myself,

Suffering ill-health

And was delusional;

Very dysfunctional.

 

But now I am very well

Not suffering that hell:

I am at a sense of ease –

Being sane is a breeze.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 04/04/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Not All Bad

The days are long, a burden to bare,

I cast my eyes at the TV and stare,

In a trance of considerable confusion

Contemplating reality and delusion.

 

I speak in an authoritative tone,

Rambling on to moan and groan,

Yet I am alone at home talking

With many alters persevering.

 

A character here, idiosyncrasy there,

Aggressive behaviour with a flare,

But this can change to being hilarious

Rendering my mentality as frivolous.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 13/03/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Fools Don't Use Tools

  I am out in the open

With my mouth closed,

As what was spoken

Is duly now disclosed.

 

I’m wet with tears from years

Of transgressing my insane fears,

I was unwell suffering a mad hell

Alone in a psychiatric hospital cell.

 

Come around to the euphonious sound

That is heavenly found to be bound

In and around the moat where I gloat

Under a spell of a throttling throat.

 

My words were daft, I need a raft

To escape this pool of being a fool,

Come hither and weather together

With what tools you can master.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 21/06/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

My Own Victim

My delusions were my sad own,

They’d be mischievously prone

To play with my mental sanity

That sadly imprisoned mad me.

 

I was locked up in my mind,

Contemplating reality in kind,

As everyone was under scrutiny

A mental and also stupid travesty.

 

For a long duration of sedation

I was under some investigation,

For I was quite observably thick

With the stick of being sadly sick.

 

I travelled through a nightmare,

Without a personal, caring care,

And with shouts of suppression

I created my own sad depression.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 20/06/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

A Change For The Better

I used to stammer and also stutter

While I was living in the sad gutter,

As in socialising with the notorious

Rendering my faculties as frivolous.

 

I got paranoid of their endeavours

Searching for their illicit treasures,

I went on wayfaring while decaying

With what they were conversing.

 

I searched for myself suffering ill-health,

But with a blessing of a wealth of stealth

I have climbed to heights I’ve sought after

By studying hard and duly being a grafter.

 

I have now come out of my shell, from hell

Of being susceptible to being quite unwell,

I have overcome my revelations to delegations

Of medical subjections for their observations.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 20/06/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Aghast At The Past

I have been for a depo injection,

It’s administered with objection,

I am under needless subjection,

I need to turn a different direction.

 

A turn for the worst is in the past,

I am thankful that it did not last,

As it turned me absolutely aghast

With a long duration of a sad fast.

 

But I am well, and was under a spell

Of a ringing bell letting out a knell,

And for all to hear with cheer or fear

I was prone to shed a saddening tear.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 20/06/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

I Am Ecclesiastical

You have made me woebegone,

My new times apparently begun

Are at a tether, and on a leash

I will duly act like a holy priest.

 

Jesus was all heart and ache

And he did forsake the take

From the vulnerable and needy,

Out of sync with much harmony.

 

I will aspire to your desire of internal fire,

And with passion I will keep you warm,

And with looking after you I will not tire –

I’ll always be there keeping you from harm.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 22/06/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Uprising

I miss you terribly so,

I wanted you to know

That I love you still

And am sorry I was ill.

 

You were a treasure to me,

I wanted us to especially be

Experiencing tranquillity –

Can’t you come back to me.

 

I am not free from the hostility of others

As I believe we are all Sisters and Brothers,

But many don't believe in my philosophy –

It’s written we are Brethren in Christianity.

 

You can share your beliefs with I,

And we can both cry and also sigh

At the suffering of Jesus by Romans –

A regrettable and unjust summons.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 14/06/2017

Innate Debate

I am a nice, caring person,

And with some precision

I will aptly express division,

An equation that has a sum.

 

We can look, but do we care,

And we can sombrely stare

At what to observably beware –

The remanding council lair.

 

If you have a lot you can rot

Sometimes in what’s forgot,

As in the poor being sore

With living life hard-core.

 

Be aptly generous in you giving,

And feel nice with your sharing,

And appreciate rather than hate

With a reward at heaven’s gate.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 20/06/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Love You More

I love the rest of my Family quite similarly,

But I love my Daughter more, and I implore

To others as Sisters and Brothers, to hopefully

Understand the score of apt loving to the core.

 

She is my life and means the world to me,

And with this shining love you will aptly see

Tranquillity in she and me, and hopefully to be

A testament of appeasement in feeling happy.

 

I've been to see her today, and she does humbly sway

My poetic way, and she adores my written scores –

As I am very heard and strong with a worldly belong

And I adore her being a humble part of this throng.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 23/06/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

An Honour

To be immortalised with words can be an apt honour,

As it can keep your memory alive after you're a goner,

And to appreciate a nice kindly word or two your way

Is a positive and justly way to play without any delay.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 07/04/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

I Want You Back

To Clare, I want you to duly know

That my seeds to you I will sow,

Until you wisely come to kindly be

With me acting respectfully to thee.

I will entertain you with my wisdom –

An oracle of things to aptly come:

Guide me with your knowledge

Which to me is a fine pilgrimage.

 

Hold my hand and let me lead the way

To better times of playing without decay,

I was ill when we parted, a sad ending –

So let's be truthful without pretending,

As it's not a lie to say I sigh and also cry

With having bipolar which I can’t deny.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 08/05/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Does Clare Still Care

I am fretting in despair

As does Clare still care,

I do not know the answer

To this intimate question.

 

I've been texting her so

To let her humbly know

That I still love her so

And my love does grow.

 

I might sadly discover

That she’s with another,

She was undercover

When being my lover.

 

I will write my plight

To experience the fight

Rather than taking flight –

I'll gripe with my might.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 20/06/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Will You Be Reciprocal

I am in love with a beautiful Female,

Our love did blossom and was stable,

We helped each other from sad strife

And were both to each other very nice.

She helped me through my day and night

Alleviating some of my gripe and fright

Of suffering with the condition of bipolar

With irresponsible negative behaviour.

 

I hope she still loves me, and will be

An essence of our personal tranquillity:

She can savour my friendly behaviour

Of a sharing and caring endeavour,

And we can share our stormy weather

Through our existent, eternal forever.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 04/05/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Where Are You Now

I haven't seen my Ex for a long while,

She used to make me constantly smile,

She was an inspiration to my sanity

And me and she used to play happily.

 

Where are you now, and what are you up to,

I'm wondering and pondering without you,

You were to me everything sweet and nice,

An essence of my personal, happy paradise.

 

Oh Clare Spencer I love you greatly so,

And I want you to aptly respectfully know

That my loving love does grow and grow,

And my poetic seeds I will endlessly sow.

 

Read my verses and reap what I type

With all of your God given might,

And be Christianly in your demeanour

Of which I do cherishingly treasure.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 01/05/2017

 

An edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Poor In Spirit Not With It

Some Women are Vipers

Trapping men in all plight,

Some also can be Snipers

Having me in their sight,

But I am nicely spoken for

And also consciously poor

In spirit as I'm not with it

As I am considerably sick.

 

Healthy body healthy mind,

And while I like to rhyme

You will also find in-kind

That I can timely be sublime.

I'm conscious of my health

And having little of wealth.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 29/11/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Tell I Am Not Swell

At the moment I am coughing,

It is considerably frustrating,

I really hate feeling this way

In a terrible state of sad decay,

I have fits catching my breath

And struggle with this stress.

 

I am mostly quite well

And have had a spell

Of feeling swell to tell

Others that we're Brothers

As we are all Brethren

If you're Christian lovers.

 

I hate catching a bug,

They are not about love,

They are a pesky nuisance

With their unfit influence,

But with some perseverance

Experience a nice severance.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 29/11/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Teach Me A Lesson

Caine And Able is a book

Worthy of a second look,

It expressed having luck

With a person in a Tux’,

Business can be fair game

If you’ve a mind the same,

But have a care of the poor

In how they look on sore.

 

Poverty is rife in life,

And stretches over earth,

Are you charitably nice

Being a person of worth.

Then stand up and fight

To aid their sad plight.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 29/11/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Take It In Your Stride

I have been inside hospital

Suffering as a mad patient,

I was paranoid of them all

With little or no patience

To exchange pleasantries –

I was full of negativities

As I lived in make believe

With hostilities to conceive.

 

Are you neglectful with yourself,

And do you quietly suffer in stealth,

Then pick yourself up in better health

And share some of life's buttered wealth.

Many innocent suffer from mental illness

With some it makes them sadly transgress.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 29/11/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

 

My One Thousandth Post

Today is a celebration,

My one thousandth post

To you from any Nation –

Have I been a good host

Adhering to supplication

From you who I like most.

 

I have reached a milestone,

And up on my own pedestal

I’ll be like a King on a throne

With best hopes for one and all

Who visit this my blogging home

With a mind to make another call.

 

Most of my pieces are of apt rhyme,

But I am writing/typing a novel too,

That’s how I pass most of my time

Which stops me from feeling blue,

I think most of my pieces are fine

And I hope you respectfully do.

 

Thank you to all of my visitors,

I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay

My Brethren, Brothers, Sisters,

Reading what I have to duly say,

And may God with His powers

Bring you a shared joy today.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 29/11/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Viewing Pursuing

As a kid I used to watch

A dog called spit who spat,

He was a wretch who'd fetch

And hit people with a bat –

Which made us kids laugh,

He'd say 'rat a tat tat tat'

A phrase with a sad catch

As it was a bark at a cat.

 

A cat is a lovely pussy,

Most are not so fussy

But are mostly content

Not to purrrrrr a vent.

They roam the streets

For birds who're treats.

 

© Andrew Stevenson 10/11/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.