January Daily Photo Poem

1st Jan

New Years Eve depresses me,
Looking over the last year reminiscing,
And deriving the same conclusions as previously:
Same shit, different year.

‘New Year, New me’,
I’m gonna start dieting,
And take up yoga,
And give up smoking.
It’s the same. old. thing.
Good intentions rarely lasting,
We’re capable of changing,
But generally the 1st of January begins with a pounding headache and a craving for fatty foods.
Let’s start the new years resolutions on the 2nd January instead,
And eat shit food in bed,
Lying there full of alcohol regrets.

New year kisses with your non-existent Mrs,
Prosecco and wine making you cry,
Drunkenly texting those no longer in your life,
Counting down time,
And painting on a fake smile,
Clinking glasses and feeling a sort of joy at the end of the celebrations/tribulations.
It’s over.

Here’s to the New Year;
A year of fluctuating emotions,
A year of altering states of mind,
A year of good and bad.
Happy New Year.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.
Sometimes there’s a light in the sky,
That captures the beauty of the ordinary.
Not everyone can see it,
But you can see it.
Is this what it’s like when you look at me?
Because I’m a nobody,
Yet you look at me like I’m the first sunset you’ve ever seen.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

3rd Jan

The cracks of your outer shell are visible,
Blemishes and bruises,
I trace your scars with my fingertips,
And leave an impression of my kisses,
Wishing I could heal your outwardly hurts, Wishing I could mend your core where the seeds of your hurts were planted.
The crevices mark your journey,
The creases illustrate the course of your life,
But despite how worn out your frame may be,
You aren’t broken,
Your armour remains intact.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


4th Jan

It makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
It’s love;
It’s a cup of tea.
It’s the sensation of comforting.
It’s all you need.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

5th Jan

Slipping up,
Sliding over,
Tripping up,
Toppling over;
The banana skins of life.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


6th Jan

There’s a freedom in the waters,
The gentle flow and ripple in the rivers,
The crash and roar of the raging seas,
The splash and spray of wellingtons in a puddle,
The tranquil tinkle and trickle of a fountain in a garden,
The sigh and silent smile of aches and pains soothed in a bubble bath,
The gulp and relief of a cold glass of water on the day of a scorching sun;
The waters ease a tired and weary soul.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


7th Jan

Scrumpled up receipts,
The evidence of spending habits.
Paying with plastic,
Forgetting savings tactics,
Your budgeting becoming elastic,
You’re in the minus,
You’re in the red,
You and your overdraft are together in bed.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


8th Jan

Zoned out and fixated,
On the details of her palms and the paths that they draw,
She flips her hand over for further examination.
She picks at the cuticles,
And removes the dirt beneath the nails,
With her teeth and tongue.
The chipped polish and raggedy nails suit her,
She’s rough around the edges with bad habits,
But that’s exactly why I can’t take my eyes off her.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

9th Jan

Those bitter cold mornings feel warmer with you in my heart,
You are the streetlights that lead me along those dark winter roads.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

Peeling off clothes at the end up the day,
Dropping them on the unhoovered carpet,
My eyes ignore the mess of my surroundings,
And instead fixate on you.
Suddenly everything is clear.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


11th jan

Shit stains and dried sick, 

On the discoloured white toilet.
Chipped wallpaper and beige surroundings,
Reminiscent of my life.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


12th Jan

I know your sort,
You’ll rinse and wrung me,
And just leave me there to dry.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


13th Jan

Concrete feelings,
Unpenetrarable skin,
Don’t park your unwanted love,
On the curb of my heart,
It will cost you.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


14th Jan

She walked along the tracks,
Like she was tiptoeing on a line of fishingwire;
But her eyes were filled with an intensity;
Careful not to be destroyed,
But brave enough to risk it all.
She loved me like no other,
And I killed her.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


15th Jan

I can feel the soapy suds turning me into a prune,
I can see the bubbles weaken and it’s exposing my skin,
The armour has broken,
The warmth has died,
You held my captive,
Too long.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


16th Jan

Flowers die,
And so did my love for you.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

17th Jan

There is still life hanging on,
A hint of green,
Amongst the grey and dead,
A touch of warmth,
Emitting through the cold,
A lifeless day with a glimpse of new beginnings.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


They say there’s a light at the end of the tunnel,
But right now it’s just a black hole,
The blackest black I’ve ever seen,
The most dark I’ve ever been,
Gloom and misery enclosing me.
Claustrophobic demons,
Telling me that the only light,
Is a high speed train crushing me.
But the demons lie.
This tunnel protects me from the rain,
It protects me from the storms,
It hides away the sunlight and warmth,
I’m blind to what could be worse,
I cannot perceive what can be better,
Until I feel my way along the tracks,
And see the world for what it is;
A place of good and bad,
And everything in between.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


19th Jan

Spotting images in the chipped paint,
Imagining stories in the peeling wallpaper,
Perceiving eyes in the curtain shapes,
Noticing monster’s hidden within your bed sheets.
Please don’t discern the shadows in my mind,
Please don’t let those be your eyes trying to look into mine,
Please ignore my crumbling and flaking form,
Please be friends with my monster’s,
And recognise the beauty in my storms.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


20th Jan

I filter my eyes,
Which clouds my thoughts,
With piercing sounds.
My perceptions are deafening,
But only I can hear them.
I hope.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

21st Jan 

Smoke filled eyes,
Blinding my mind;
A lustful surge.
There’s no heart,
In pursuing,
I’m playing the strings,
Of your soul.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


22nd Jan

Lonely remedies,
A mess of relief.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


23rd Jan

Threading my previous lovers,
Into a clump of string,
Tangling them around my heart,
Unable to breathe,
They are like barbed wire.
To cut through,
You’ll get electrocuted,
And bleed.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


24th Jan

Sunday morning walks to work,
Beer bottles lining the streets,
Avoiding the slips,
In puddles of sick.
The obstacle course caused,
By the contents of a dropped handbag,
Pocket mirror,
And tampons.
Ghost town party I missed.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

25th Jan

Our feelings are an emulsion;
We’re not right for one another,
But we still have a chemistry.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


26th Jan

The letters won’t form into words;
Syllables and lines,
Of an undefined thought.
Broken sentences,
My mind is caught,
In a place of no translation.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


27th Jan

Gauging who I am isn’t as simple as looking at my outwardly persona.
If you want to know what I’m about,
You’ll need to start reading,
You’ll have to wait and see,
If I’m a book worth recommending,
Because my cover alone,
Isn’t worth judging.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

28th Jan

 Clipped wings, 

Weary streets,
I’m flying nowhere.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.



Weeping over,
The sights,
Of humanity;
A waterfall of blue.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.


30th Jan

When you hold me,
It’s like the shiver of warmth,
From a hot water bottle.

No intelligent thought has come to my mind,
And the shadow of my stupidity follows.
No colourful shade covers my idiocy,
I’m blank and I’m bare,
Scrutinised by your stare.

S.R Boyd Writes's photo.

2 thoughts on “January Daily Photo Poem

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