Robert Bailey

Hello, my name is Robert and I'm a writer from Yorkshire. I occasionally write poems, and I've been writing altogether for about 6 years on and off. 

Since I started writing poetry, I've come to realise that it is a good tool for understanding your own unconscious mind. Somebody like me who can't really make sense of their own feelings can get a lot from the creative arts, whether it be sitting down to realise your emotions in a poem or releasing built-up tensions in a tumultuous musical improvisation. I believe solo improvisation is a psychodramatic experience, and that all of those improvisations put together can tell a transcendent story. Emotions and concepts that arose in my early poetry tend to slip back through, sometimes in different metaphors, shapes or imagery. 

Most of my poetry is about depression or hopelessness, some of them are horrific and disturbing. And at other times, suicidal. I wouldn't presume to think my poetry was identifiable by everybody. It's a specific type of person that can enjoy my poetry.

This is a taster of the kind of really uplifting and joyous (hahah!) content I create:

"-- In me, there lies an empty sea
 Fluid with naught but holes
 Which shape for my desires,
 And will never be filled. --"

"I have been
To the derisory realm,
Where smiles hang from
Suffering lips, and
Eyes rove, scowling. --"

"-- What loveless cretins:
Those who gnaw at the bar
Just to feel the dumb stimulus
Of pain at the roots of their teeth,
Whose delight it is to tease with pins
The goosebumps of their arms
That the blood might contrast
The gray landscape that has become
Their blissfully insulated lives."

Oh, and I also started writing some 'novels' a few years ago but I haven't touched them in a long while. I don't have any plans to continue book-writing at the current time.