Writing and life; a place for my words to rest on their way to you
listen:
Cheerful daisies turn their faces upwards.
Big sun, bright heart reflected in egg yolk centres
And mirrored in the humblest things.
Life energy lights the sky
and falls to earth, yet not diminished.
Instead its littler twin multiplies its force.
As above, so below.
For what I see, I can be.
And though I am ever so small
the universe
is contained within me.
listen to this poem:
See there, the sunny uplands
of what could be
see here, the barren wasteland
of what came to be
the space between, under a crying sky
is brim full of splintered dreams, of lost hopes
and bitter grains of disappointment
of what will never be
(a villanelle)
Listen to this poem:
We’re joined by an invisible chain
we try and fail to pull apart;
each link is forged of joy and pain.
Emotions overcame my brain.
Hopelessly smitten at the start,
we’re joined by an invisible chain
that weighs so little. Yet in vain
I try to free my restless heart.
Each link is forged of joy and pain.
What is the use if I complain
about this fate I can’t outsmart?
We’re joined by an invisible chain.
Let’s tally up the loss and gain
of taking Cupid’s poisoned dart.
Each link is forged of joy and pain
so here we are, and must remain.
We wait until death do us part.
We’re joined by an invisible chain,
each link is forged of joy and pain.
Listen to this poem:
Blood running hot, and never cold
it presses forward, always bold
calling us on to run and fight
propelling legs as they take flight
and for one moment stop and think.
Then the next instant to the brink
of madness.
The red eyes are blind
to all that’s gentle, good or kind.
A teasing swish, matador’s cape
will goad the bull. There’s no escape
from spears embedded in his back
that prod him to futile attack.
And down his skin run rivers red,
his life poured out and painted dead.
We feel the ruby pulsing heat
within our chests with every beat
of every crazed deluded heart,
so sure that this is just the start
of something lasting, fine and true,
of you and me.
I always knew
that red would overwhelm this love.
Though lovers gaze at stars above
and whisper declarations soft,
these ideals that they hold aloft
soon fall to earth.
Nothing to say.
Unbridled passions win the day
over mere intellectual words
when feelings fly like scattered birds
and reason flees.
All that remains
is quivering flesh and dripping veins
left hollow by an anguished flood
of passion, anger, rage, and blood.
Follow the heart, obey the head.
Go fast, full stop; now quick, now dead.
Listen to this poem:
did you ever see someone get shot
or hear bad news
they swallow
blink
pause
what?
blink again
no
this
can’t
be happening
what?
one step back
a hole in the chest
okay, they say
watching with distant fascination
their
blood
spurts
red
okay but
the real pain
has not yet begun
It is the time of sleep and not-sleep
but warm, always.
It is the time of seen and not-seen
soft focus, blurred.
It is the time of dream and not-dream
yet absolutely real.
It is the place mapped and not-mapped
each hill and curve already known.
These are not adventures, and here be no dragons.
We know this gentle push and pull
caressing the edge of darkness
teasing the frontiers of rest.
The familiar needs no more.
Soft half-light reveals us to each other again
veiled in a gossamer web of sighs.
It is that time.
a poem
Big girl now, so you don’t. Your tea party will not come to pass, so get up, get out and get on. There’s gold in those distant towers, creep in, sit quiet, be good. Rapunzel got her prince, but you cannot, must not, let down your hair, no. Don’t spread too wide. Fold those gauzy violet wings neat. Pack them in a shiny carapace without markings, and lower your eyes.
Big girl now, so you don’t. It’s a paradox all right, this flipped and contrary view. You’ll get used to it, or maybe not. Don’t talk back. A smile pays rent on the space you occupy. See, you exist in the moment of a careless glance. Grow curves (no edges) smooth and pleasing to the hand. But beware the wrong places. A magic trick; more presence, and you are invisible. Now they see her, now they don’t.
Big girl now, so you don’t. It’s good to share, yes, even that. Everything. Your one possession, boundaries breached, legs parted for him. Not too many, just enough to bag your prize. It is what we have done, always and forever. You must prove you’re worthy, grown in a different way. Mouth shut, eyes open, the cuckoo housed. The enemy is within the walls.
Big girl now, so you don’t. There are always jobs to do, babies to soothe, egos to cradle, wounds to bind. Your blood ebbs and flows, and the clock ticks on, and life is a seething ocean, testing defences and opening cracks. Peer over land’s end at the rocks where sirens beckon. Their invitations whisper at the edge of hearing, snatched away on the wind.
Big girl now, so you don’t. You are the battered headland assailed by storms; the lighthouse dark and empty. It is another day, and you have forgotten how the sun warmed your skin. This world is forever grey. This heart is forever patched and broken. No matter how much you wish to sink, the world is built upon your back. When the cliff itself despairs, there is no place to jump. Offer shelter, promise safety, stand firm and carry on. They need you.
It was child’s play then; it’s woman’s work now. It’s a man’s world still, and it’s time to find your place. You’re a big girl, so hush now.
