How Do You Travel?


From Anything But Hackneyed. A collection of my early poems.

The gate sprung open, a galloping horse.

A rider gripping tightly, a mile long course.

Seconds of tension, although a lifetime past.

Heart thumping energy. Will the hearts last?

Half a length in it, one final thrust.

All or nothing. The win is a must!

The race is over. Prestige has been restored.

The world looked on, clapped and adored.

The horse was stabled. The rider slept.

The horse died that night, and the owner wept.

You see it was the owner who wanted the trophy,

The rider, merely did as he was paid.

As for the horse, well, it has been said,

That to run is why they are made.

Some say the journey doesn’t matter, 

Saying the destination is the ultimate prize.

I say differently. It’s how you travel, 

That shows the size of the heart you have inside.

Anything But Hackneyed.

Anything But Hackneyed.


About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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