Tag: music

Love Beyond The Abyss Of Addiction

 

 

Please Press Play Above And Follow Along With The Poem Below.

 

A story stirs beneath the noise, a tale of silent cries,
Of love stretched thin by shadows cast behind familiar eyes.
A home once warm with gentle days now trembles in the night,
As something dark has taken hold and drained away the light.

A parent stands with aching heart, yet will not turn away,
Though every hope seems worn and bruised by what each brings to stay.
They search for cures, for answers lost in corridors of doubt,
But every door they knock upon just leads them back without.

The child they held, the dreams they knew, now drift in altered haze,
Caught in a storm that clouds the mind and twists the passing days.
Not all is as it once appeared in softer, simpler time,
For what was once a fleeting vice now grows to deeper crime.

Words turn sharp and actions wild, the house no longer safe,
Love is tested, stretched and torn, yet still it holds its place.
The nights grow long with fear and grief, the days with quiet dread,
As hope and heartbreak intertwine in all that’s left unsaid.

Voices rise from outside walls with judgment cold and loud,
Casting stones from distant ground, assured and stern and proud.
They question pain they’ve never felt, condemn what they don’t know,
While those within the storm endure a far more brutal blow.

The truth is not a simple thread that neatly can be tied,
It’s woven through with sacrifice and tears that won’t subside.
To speak of such a fragile wound invites a heavy cost,
Yet silence too can bury souls already feeling lost.

For some, the climb back to the light is steep but still is real,
A fragile path through broken ground where time begins to heal.
But many wander endlessly, their strength too worn to fight,
Consumed by endless craving’s pull that dims their inner light.

And those who love must stand aside, made small in moments grim,
Watching as their presence fades against that urgent whim.
No easy cure, no gentle road, no painless way to mend,
Just fractured hope and stubborn love that refuses still to end.

So think before you cast your blame on hearts that dare to try,
For courage often wears a face that’s wet with tears, not dry.
The cost of love can cut so deep it echoes through the years,
In whispered guilt, in quiet rooms, in unrelenting fears.

And what of those who follow on, the children yet to grow?
What seeds are sown in fragile minds within this undertow?
A future shaped by present pain may carry hidden scars,
A generation reaching out through shadows toward the stars.

Copyright © Ven Bunce  2026

 

The poem above is about the trials and tribulations of living with a ‘Skunk’ addicted son who has turned a loving family environment into a ‘living hell’.
The family have tried every avenue available to help their son who they still love dearly but who seems to either not want to kick his addiction, or who can’t kick it. In the meantime the family unit is being subjected to physical violence, verbal abuse and stealing to fund this habit.

Now Skunk is not like your normal Weed. It is far stronger, very addictive, and causes very real psychological harm to the brain. While everyone hopes the son gets serious help and cures his disposition, the prognosis is not good for anyone on Skunk or even ‘Crack cocaine’.

Glue sniffing used to be the easiest ‘high’ to start with, and then the usual progression from there. As usual, parents are the last to know. When they do find out, they often seek help everywhere, but just hit brick walls all the time. The stealing is relentless. The court appearances are relentless, as they get caught trying to ‘fund’ the habit that spirals financially out of control.

Violence almost always follows in families plagued by this ‘cancer’ in society. Usually for small amounts of money, but just enough to get them their next hit. A family that has been lucky enough to avoid this misery ‘cannot’ even hope to understand the depths of despair that every involved parent goes through watching their child sink into a drug induced abyss. The fact is, some do manage to pull things round and enjoy what we call a normal life. But far too many simply don’t have that drive and determination needed.

We’re not talking easy options here. There is very real physical and emotional pain involved in kicking these drug addictions, and the worse part is, you know that you are insignificant in their lives at the time they are physically craving their next hit or fix.

Think twice, three times, or as many as it takes, before ever condemning a parent for showing such bravery.

Also remember; That we now have whole generations of drug-dependant parents bringing up the ‘new’ generation in drug influenced family units. The very children that are OUR future could all be drug confused adults in 30 years time and probably lees!…. Then What??

 

Please Like, Share, Comment and Subscribe on Youtube  if you like these poems & video’s ..
And Do Visit https://venbunce.com to read #VOTFP – AKA; ‘Visions Of The Future Past’ … The Mother of all of these Video’s 😎
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And Don’t Forget To Check Out The #VOTFP  ‘Concept-Playlist’  Here;

Thank You … Ven …

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Stepping UP To The Plate….

Designing Your Best Year: How Intentional Thinking Transforms Your Life.

What if the life you want isn’t something you ‘find’ but something you consciously design?

 

 

Please Click The Image Above – And Follow Along Below:

A life isn’t found, it’s carefully made,
Not stumbled upon, nor left to fade.
It starts with a question, quiet and true,
“What kind of life feels right for you?”

In the noise of the world, we drift and delay,
Chasing vague dreams that slip far away.
But pause for a moment, sit with your mind,
There’s power in purpose you’re waiting to find.

Clarity cuts through the doubt and the haze,
It lights up your path through uncertain days.
When values are known and vision is clear,
Each step that you take draws your future more near.

Big dreams can feel like a mountain too steep,
Promises made that we struggle to keep.
But break them to pieces, make them feel small,
And suddenly, progress feels no strain at all.

A step every day, however slight,
Will carry you forward, bring goals into sight.
It’s not in the rush or bursts of speed,
But steady persistence that plants the seed.

And when you feel stuck, don’t rush to blame,
Not all hesitation is failure or shame.
Sometimes it’s rest that your spirit requires,
A pause to rekindle your inner fires.

Reflection’s a mirror we often ignore,
Yet holds all the answers we’re searching for.
What worked, what didn’t, what made you grow,
These are the truths you already know.

Write them, revisit, let patterns appear,
Your path becomes stronger with every year.
Small moments of insight begin to align,
Turning your habits to something divine.

Tools of the future now lend you a hand,
Guiding your thoughts, helping you plan.
Not to replace the strength you hold,
But to sharpen your vision, brave and bold.

And don’t forget what you’ve carried inside,
Your stories and lessons you often hide.
You don’t need mastery, polished and grand,
Just something honest that others can understand.

A life well-designed isn’t flawless or neat,
It’s built from intention, imperfect yet sweet.
From questions you ask and choices you make,
From risks that you dare and chances you take.

So shape it with care, be steady, be wise,
Let purpose, not pressure, become your guide.
For in your hands lies more than it seems—
The power to build a life from your dreams.

Copyright © Ven Bunce  2026

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Goal-setting, personal growth, AI-assisted coaching, habits, and mindset.

Designing Your Best Year: How Intentional Thinking Transforms Your Life.

What if the life you want isn’t something you ‘find’ but something you consciously design?

That’s the core idea behind a growing movement in personal development: Treating your life like a project – One that can be structured, refined, and improved over time. Instead of drifting through routines or reacting to circumstances, the goal is to become the architect of your own future.

At the heart of this approach is ‘clarity’ – Many people struggle not because they lack ability, but because they lack direction. When you take time to define your values, beliefs, and long-term vision, everything else begins to align. Questions like “What actually matters to me?” Or “Where do I want to be in 10 years?” Become powerful tools rather than abstract thoughts.

But clarity alone isn’t enough. The next step is breaking that vision into manageable actions. Big goals can feel overwhelming, which often leads to procrastination. The solution? Reduce complexity. By turning large ambitions into smaller, actionable steps, progress becomes not only possible—but inevitable.

Interestingly, this framework also challenges how we view procrastination. Not all delay is laziness. Sometimes it’s a signal—fatigue, lack of clarity, or emotional resistance. When reframed as ‘conscious rest’ – It becomes a tool for recovery rather than guilt. Understanding the difference can dramatically improve productivity and mental well-being.

Another key element is ‘reflection’. Daily or regular check-ins—whether through journaling or structured questions—help reinforce progress. Reflecting on what worked, what didn’t, and what you’re grateful for builds self-awareness and keeps your goals connected to your actions. Over time, this habit compounds into meaningful change.

Technology is also beginning to play a role in this process. ‘AI tools’ – for example, can act as personalized coaches—asking the right questions, tracking progress, and helping individuals stay accountable. When used effectively, they don’t replace human thinking; they enhance it by providing structure and consistency.

But perhaps the most important takeaway is this: “Everyone already has something valuable to offer” – You don’t need to be an expert in everything. The real opportunity lies in recognizing your existing knowledge, experiences, and insights—and learning how to organize and share them effectively.

Ultimately, designing your life isn’t about perfection. It’s about intention.

It’s about asking better questions, building better habits, and making small, consistent improvements. When you approach your life as something you actively shape—rather than passively experience—you unlock a powerful shift in mindset.

And from there, everything changes.

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Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You … Ven …..

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Is The Number Forty-Two

 

Is 42 the answer to every question in life?
Is it the divisible number of numbers that form the combination code that unlocks ‘The Universal Knowledge Bank’?
Is it the angle that forms the rainbow or the trajectory of a star-ship?
Is it the pre-cursor to every question ever dreamed up?
Is 42 the only number that automatically registers and pins itself in the human brain?
Or is it just a running joke that has kept ‘The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy’ a top-selling book about ‘Deep Thought’ and the human computer-brain, soon to become the ‘Super-Chip-Brain’?
Is this the ultimate quandary that either No-One or Every-One will never find the solution?

Please Press Play Above And Follow Along With The Poem Below.

Beneath twin suns of binary light,
Where nebulae flicker in violet night,
A signal hums through the cosmic hive—
Is forty-two what keeps thought alive?

Through quantum gates and data streams,
Past shattered moons and ion dreams,
A cipher pulses, cold and blue,
Inscribed in code: the number forty-two.

Is it etched in the hull of a star-bound ship,
In the arc of a rainbow’s photon slip?
The launch trajectory, clean and true,
Calculated down to forty-two?

Does it predate each “why” we frame,
Before a mind can name a name?
A pre-cursor spark in the neural sea,
A constant in infinity?

Across dark matter’s silent sweep,
Where ancient satellites drift and sleep,
A vault rotates in endless night—
The Universal Knowledge Bank alight.

Its lattice doors of plasma hue
Respond to one prime residue;
A whispered pass-code slipping through—
The answer keyed as forty-two.

In archived files of cult renown,
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy spins its gown
Of satire, stars, and towel-clad lore
On every interstellar shore.

Where Deep Thought, vast and old,
With logic forged in quantum gold,
Delivered truth in monotone:
“Forty-two.” And that alone.

Galactic councils gasped for more,
Demanded meaning at the core,
But questions warped in cosmic brew—
What fits an answer like forty-two?

Is it branded in the cortex bright,
A self-pinning spark of insight?
A number that refuses to wane,
Hard-coded in the human brain?

Soon Super-Chip-Brains hum awake,
With synapse-wires and minds opaque,
Will they, through circuits fused and new,
Rediscover ancient forty-two?

Or is it just a running jest,
A stellar meme that passed the test,
A joke that leapt from page to crew
And colonized the cosmos through?

Perhaps the quandary’s deeper strife
Is not the code, but coding life;
For every star we chase into
May only mirror forty-two.

So let the star-ships curve and dive,
Let hyperspace and hope survive—
For in each question born anew
Still flickers faintly: forty-two.

Copyright © Ven Bunce  2026

 

Is The Number 42?

What if the answer has been sitting in plain sight all along?

“Is 42 the answer to every question in life?” It’s a playful question, but beneath the humour lies something far more intriguing. The number 42 has become a cultural shorthand for mystery, curiosity, and the human hunger for meaning. It represents that tantalising idea that somewhere—hidden behind layers of complexity—there might be a single, elegant solution to everything.

The notion originates, of course, from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. In the story, a supercomputer named Deep Thought calculates for millions of years to determine “the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything.” The answer it produces? Simply: 42.

The joke works because it subverts expectation. After all that anticipation, the grand revelation is just a number—unadorned, unexplained, and almost absurdly ordinary. But that absurdity is precisely the point. The problem isn’t the answer. The problem is that no one really understands the question.

This is where the deeper essence of “42” begins to unfold.

We live in an age obsessed with optimisation. We search for life hacks, productivity systems, algorithms, and formulas that promise clarity and control. We want the combination code that unlocks the “Universal Knowledge Bank.” We want certainty—something divisible, measurable, concrete. A neat solution to the messy sprawl of existence.

But life doesn’t operate like a vault waiting for the right sequence of digits.

The enduring power of 42 lies in what it reveals about us. It exposes our tendency to believe that complexity must reduce to simplicity if we just calculate long enough. It pokes gentle fun at our confidence in intellect alone. Even if we build ever more powerful computers—perhaps even evolving toward some future “Super-Chip-Brain”—we still face the same fundamental challenge: understanding what we are actually asking.

Is 42 the angle that forms the rainbow? The trajectory of a starship? The pre-cursor to every question ever dreamed up? Or is it simply a cultural meme that has anchored itself in the human brain because we love an inside joke that makes us feel part of something bigger?

Perhaps the brilliance of 42 is that it holds all these possibilities at once.

It reminds us that meaning is not handed down fully formed. It is co-created through curiosity, imagination, and shared narrative. The number persists not because it explains the universe, but because it invites us to keep exploring it.

In that sense, 42 becomes less about certainty and more about wonder. It encourages us to laugh at our own seriousness, to question our questions, and to recognise that sometimes the search itself is the point.

Maybe the ultimate quandary isn’t whether anyone will ever find the solution. Maybe it’s whether we’re brave enough to live with the mystery.

And if the answer turns out to be 42?

At least we’ll know we asked something big enough to deserve it.

Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You …

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We are living in an abstract world

We’re living in a world that’s being sterilised by architecture. Inspiration, dreams and ambitions are being quelled by changing our surroundings. Art, Beauty, Inspiration and Positivity are all being gently and quietly removed from our consciousness.

Sounds a bit Wah-Wah-WHOO! – EH?? – Well listen to the audio below, follow along with the poem/lyrics and simply ‘reflect’.

Why is art hushed low in the roar of the street,
Where concrete and commerce so clinically meet?
Why are our buildings no longer raised high
As cathedrals of craft that once dazzled the sky?

Why do the doorways stand silent and plain,
Uncarved by devotion, untouched by the vein
Of artisans pouring their spirit in wood,
As once in the centuries proudly they stood?

Why do the windows stare empty and bare,
Without stained-glass stories suspended in air?
Why does the stonework lie lifeless and cold,
No flourished adornment, no filigreed fold?

Why is the pipework exposed without grace,
Like veins of a body stripped out of its place?
Why must efficiency banish delight,
And function extinguish the warmth of the light?

Why is a house just a box with a door,
A number, a lock, and a laminated floor?
Where once it was poetry shaped into space,
With cornices curling in elegant lace.

Why do the statues that rise in our squares
Seem twisted by anguish, consumed by their stares?
Like fragments of nightmares welded in steel,
More eager to wound than to soothe or to heal.

Why do the fountains no longer sing
With sculpted cherubs on crystalline wing?
Why do the stations where thousands convene
Resemble a sketch of a half-formed machine?

We rush through terminals sterile and wide,
Where beauty and wonder have quietly died.
We live in abstraction of angles and screens,
In grayscale reflections of digital dreams.

The curves have been straightened, the colors subdued,
The language of ornament deemed crude.
We trade sacred craft for the cheapest design,
And call it progression by modern outline.

Yet still in the hush of a twilight-lit street,
The hunger for splendor and harmony beats.
For deep in the marrow, the spirit still yearns
For arches and frescoes and hand-carved returns.

Perhaps in the cracks of this abstract age,
New artists will step to the unvarnished stage.
To marry the useful with luminous art,
And build us a world where both dwell in the heart.

Copyright © Ven Bunce  2026

 

 

Satan-God-Love-Hate

A Poem/Song in the ‘progressive rock’ style of the 70’s.
Telling the story of the fight between God & Satan – Good & Evil – Love & Hate! How War has been used and abused by ‘both’ God and Satan in their war that stretches into infinity unless Humanity finds and unleashes it’s God-Given-POWER! Called LOVE!

 

Please Click The Image Above – And Follow Along Below:

 

Britain and Europe
Preparing For War!
Husbands Conscripted!
Wives Too!
Mortgage can’t be paid.
It’s a Homeless life for You!

Could be ‘The Plan’ ??
Not a Fight for Freedom!
But just another chain
In the Socialist Fiefdom.

Since Man first stepped
On this Earth So Blue.
He’s fought his Wars
For Me and You!

But God was all powerful
Training His Children,
To defend themselves,
Against the Evil kingdom.

Then Along Came Satan
With eyes Red with Greed.
He observed that these armies
Could fulfil His need!

Control Of Humanity…
His ultimate goal.
Social Hypnosis
His favourite tool.

He’d turn every man
Woman and Child,
Into worker-drones
He’d abuse and defile.

But God was all powerful
Training His Children,
To defend themselves,
Against the Evil kingdom.

Satan acknowledged that Love was the key.
That God used it wisely – Effectively.
So how could it be turned – to nurture hate!
Divide and conquer – both man and mate?

Love! is now – abused as a word.
Love Ya – Now common, sounding absurd.
Society all at each others throat,
the word ‘love’ thrown about
like a worn out coat.

Love Ya, Make Love,
We hear all the time.
The Meaning and Power!
Now Lost! – in the brine!

But God was all powerful
Training His Children,
To defend themselves,
Against the Evil kingdom.

The Power of Love
was meant to heal.
But Satan appeared,
And Love! He would Steal!

Britain and Europe
Preparing For War!
Not to defend Us
from Evil’s Claw.

But to secure our future
Behind a socialist door.

But God was all powerful
Training His Children,
To defend themselves,
Against the Evil kingdom.

Go Out And Find Love Once More,
It’s The Feeling You Get from Life’s Own Chord.
The Tingle up Your Neuro-Spine
Between Your Ears And Eyes,

Is all the proof You’ll ever need
That Love’s shed it’s evil disguise……..

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Copyright © Ven Bunce  2025

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Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You …

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Where the Welsh Castles Dream

In Wales there’s a saying; “You can’t drive or walk twenty miles without seeing a castle” .. Probably True, but there are certainly numerous myths & legends surrounding them all – Here is a Celtic poem/folk song to accompany those tales.

 

Please Click The Image Above – And Follow Along Below:

Beneath the moonlit castle stones we wander hand in hand,
Where ghosts and whispered legends drift across the ancient land.
A White Lady walks the ramparts with a sorrow-softened sigh,
But love outshines her haunting as the night wind passes by.

So take my hand and walk with me
Where the Welsh castles dream by the silver sea.
Let the old world fade in the rising moon,
For our hearts write a song that the stars will soon
Carry over stone and stream—
You and I where the Welsh castles dream.

They speak of hidden tunnels where the secret footsteps glide,
But the only path I follow is the one beside your side.
Though warriors sleep in caverns deep, awaiting battle’s call,
My heart awakes for you alone within these timeless walls.

So take my hand and walk with me
Where the Welsh castles dream by the silver sea.
Let the old world fade in the rising moon,
For our hearts write a song that the stars will soon
Carry over stone and stream—
You and I where the Welsh castles dream.

A dragon stirs beneath the ground, its embered breath unseen,
Yet still you warm my spirit more than flames have ever been.
The ‘Tylwyth Teg’ play silver harps beyond the mortal view,
But none of all their magic holds a light as bright as you.

So take my hand and walk with me
Where the Welsh castles dream by the silver sea.
Let the old world fade in the rising moon,
For our hearts write a song that the stars will soon
Carry over stone and stream—
You and I where the Welsh castles dream.

Let phantom armies march and fade,
Let shadows roam the battlements they made.
For love outlives the tales of old,
Stronger than the stones and bolder than the cold.

So take my hand and stay with me
Where the Welsh castles dream by the silver sea.
Let the legends sleep in the rising dawn,
For our hearts will endure when the ghosts are gone.
Carry this through every dream—
You and I where the Welsh castles dream.
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Copyright © Ven Bunce  2025

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Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You …

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Lady Kate With The Diamond Eyes

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KATE.

Lady Kate with the diamond eyes.
You entered my mind, what a lovely surprise.
Your perfect face and voice so pure.
You helped my mind to feel secure.

Through the misty blue your voice burst through.
I know it was the same for you.
Though we’re strangers, our mind is one,
As we give our love up to the Sun.

Your voice I knew was special,
The first time I heard you cry.
“It’s me … Kathy” – then you’d sigh.
A special voice that couldn’t lie.

I must admit that visually,
I saw you through a schoolboy’s dream.
The red glow that surrounded you,
Blinded me from the beautiful blue.

Though late to see the light of life.
It hit me hard at first.
But the chord of life runs through your voice,
And the words you write left me no choice.

I can see you through a child’s eyes.
You’ll never learn the word `despise`.
Your diamond eyes keep a friend I know.
Your perfect form has a heavenly glow.

The Bishop of the White Kings’ Gate,
Should look at you, and emulate.
The `Purple Haze` of love is there.
It’s good to know how much you care.

When you sit and ponder,
Please allow your mind to wander.
Out into the twilight zone.
We’ll intermingle on our own.

Two minds, pure and clear.
We’ll drift into the atmosphere.
We’ll let the gamma rays above,
Feed us with their perfect love.

The ‘diamond eyes’ you have for sure,
Will give out love forever more…………

Copyright © Ven Bunce 1987

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Please Leave a Comment Below …

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The Beginning Of Time

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Please  ‘Play’  The Audio/Video Above And Follow Along With The Words Below.

In the beginning—only void,
No sound, no touch, no light employed.
A prison dark, oblivion’s keep,
Where silence reigned and time lay asleep.

Electrons drifted, cold, alone,
Negative sparks without a home.
They yearned for charge, a counterforce,
A spark of life to guide their course.

Then came imagination’s flame,
A positive thought, a shaping name.
From dream to dream, it wove the air,
Creating worlds that were not there.

Time awoke where none had been,
A rhythm pulsed, a hidden spin.
Equations formed, a ticking scheme,
To pace the dance of every dream.

But still those visions, vast, confined,
Were shadows locked inside the mind.
Until one spark grew bold, alive,
And dreamed of ways that form might thrive.

It dreamt vibration, subtle sound,
A trembling echo all around.
Music arose, a cosmic tune,
A heartbeat under endless gloom.

The beat grew faster, fierce, complete,
Electron clashed with charged heartbeat.
Expansion surged, the silence torn—
And in that song, the cosmos born.
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‘The Chord-Of-Life‘ was given
For Peace And Harmony.
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Catch Ya Later……

Ven Bunce ..

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