No More Winter

There will be no more winter,
We’ll live forever in the spring,
There will be no more winter,
And the birds will always sing,

The icy swathes of death,
Will never lay across this land,
We’ll never see the fall of
Summer’s beauty at its hand,

The sun will live forever,
There’ll be bleakness nevermore,
And we will kiss the daffodils
and waltz through heathered moors,

There will be endless hope and joy,
New beginnings will roam free,
Yes, spring will live forevermore;
When you and I make We.

Ice and Fire

Your
heart
was ice,
Your heart
was fire, You
froze and blazed
until I grew tired, Until
it snowed upon my
funeral pyre, You
dragged me
down but
I
flew higher, A phoenix risen from the
fire, Preserved in ice and seared with
ire, At last I’ll be what I desire, I’ll
freeze and blaze and never tire,
My heart is ice, My heart is fire.

Today I have been inspired by a prompt I found here. It was to write using antithesis, or contrasting terms, opposites.

Brick Dust

I feel the mortar
crumble
beneath my fingernails
I have been
scratching away
for years
but
walls don’t
crumble
when all you do
is you rub
your fingers
across the bricks
all huff and puff
but no conviction
terracotta dust
keeps falling
like confetti
on my toes
but we both know
it could take
a lifetime
it could
quite possibly
take us two
yet still
I keep on scratching
at the brickwork
like a sculptor
working stone
and if I place my ear
against its
coldness
and really listen
I’m almost
certain
that I can hear it
that I can hear you
scratching
too.

Rainbow

When skies are dull,
bleak,
I long for relief,
and, lo,
he comes
uninvited
but welcome.
He is my rainbow.

 

rainbow

 

napowrimo2015Today is the last day of NaPoWriMo. No prompt for me today (but you can find out what it was here). Instead I revamped an old poem (we’re talking 16 years old) that was written for one of my best friends, who despite time and great distance, still holds a piece of my heart. I thought it would be nice to turn it into a calligram. It’s also a nice note on which to end an amazing month. Hope to see you all around duing the rest of the year but if not, may you forever enjoy life’s rainbows :-)

Until next time….

Bridges

Bridge to Freedom

I hear the melancholy slither of
the stream across the stones,
I feel the dampness of the wood
as it seeps into my bones.

My legs dangle through the railings,
Dried up mud cocoons my knees,
I watch my teardrops salt the water
as I cast secrets to the breeze.

I feel trapped inside this vastness,
Life is closing in from every side,
I’m stifled, stuck, in stasis,
Despite the many roads I’ve tried.

But as I sit here on this bridge,
Where soothing silence scents the air,
I close my eyes and I taste freedom,
And I’m transported anywhere.

 

Bridge to Forgiveness

From here, of course, I see you,
I can almost taste your skin,
But, no, I will not touch you first,
Or you, my love, would win.

You see, there lies between us
a raging river of regret,
And there is no way to bridge it
without someone getting wet.

I confess, the scent of victory
serves to fuel my stubbornness,
So listen up, my darling,
Only you can fix this mess.

So simply say you’re sorry,
Come, we haven’t got all night…
Don’t look at me like that, my dear,
You know I’m always right.

 

napowrimo2015Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a poem about a bridge. I wrote two today, the first about a physical bridge and the second about a metaphorical one.

I Choose You

Here’s
an idea
for us two

that’s
[maybe] worth
us playing through:

Every
time that
I choose you,

Why
don’t you
choose me too?

Because, it’s true,
You never do…

 

napowrimo2015Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a hay(na)ku (read about it here). I went for the additional challenge of writing a hay(na)ku sonnet – and making it rhyme!

The basis of the poem was taken from a rough scribbling I posted on my Facebook page earlier in the week, so while I’m sure I’ve probably not got it 100% right (I seem to be having a tough time this year, technically speaking), I’m happy with it anyway.

A Second Chance

I still remember the day we met,
You were this tiny, perfect child,
And though you couldn’t focus yet,
I know you saw I was beguiled.

You quickly learned to hold my hand,
And just as quickly refused to let go,
You held it as you took your first stand,
As you toddled to and fro.

Sometimes you’d fall down with me,
And the tears would surely come,
But that’s why I was there, you see,
To catch each and every one.

I’ve lost track of all the ghosts I’ve fought,
Of the bad dreams that I have soothed,
I do not like to boast of course,
For that would be uncouth.

At every sleepover, every holiday,
Every night in an unknown place,
I could always keep the fear at bay
with just a comforting embrace.

I lost you once, do you recall?
I remember it all too well,
Before I found you I was so distraught,
But I bet you couldn’t tell.

And then, one day, you just lost interest,
Like you no longer liked to play,
I was so overwhelmingly depressed,
But I didn’t like to say.

I wondered though, so hard and long,
What changed – what ever could?
And what it was that I did wrong,
But, of course, it did no good.

So when I saw the cardboard box,
I didn’t bother to protest,
And when the attic hatch was locked,
I kept my agony suppressed.

I don’t know long I lived there,
Weeping softly in the dark,
Not accepting that you no longer cared,
That you no longer had a heart.

By the time I saw the crack of light,
My mind was deeply frayed,
For when I saw your grown-up face,
I thought some trick was being played.

But then a fresh-faced little child
– who looked a lot like you –
appeared beside you; timid, mild,
And that is when I knew
I had a second chance to ward off fear,
To love, to make things better,
To wipe another million tears,
To share my raison d’être.

 

napowrimo2015Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a persona poem; a poem in the voice of someone else. I chose the voice of an old teddy bear, not unlike the one that I had when I was younger, that my daughter now sleeps with. Hope you enjoy it.

Arrested Development

Sergeants atop their ivory towers,
Fatted by their godly powers,
Lording over drunks and strays
and those caught upon their worst of days.

A mother cries beside her son,
Bitter shame for what he’s done,
He stands defiant – no remorse –
Chest puffed out in show of force,
He cannot see her heart is breaking,
Cannot see the choice he’s making.

A girl beneath a mental cloud,
Lies prostrate as she calls aloud
the letters of her father’s name,
Over and over and over again.

A probie fiddles with his vest,
As he recounts his last arrest,
He shifts to left foot, then to right,
To quell the growing nervous bite.

An addict tries to state his case,
While picking scabs that line his face,
“I stole the meat to buy the drugs”,
He feigns regret and gently shrugs.

Solicitors vaunt and huff and sneer,
Noses high, they seek out fear,
A chance to cut down boys in blue,
To pick at what they thought they knew.

The nurse tends to a frightened girl,
Who in an instant changed her world,
When she finally struck back at her man,
With kitchen knife in battered hand,
She sobs inside the four white walls,
Ignoring all the caterwauls,
For her, the earth has slowed and stopped,
Hushed ’til you can hear pins drop,
Nought exists inside her head,
Save faint relief and panging dread.

The others? Perhaps they’ll never change,
But she will never be the same.

 

napowrimo2015Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a Clerihew. A whimsical, four-line biographical poem invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley. The first line is the name of the poem’s subject, usually a famous person put in an absurd light. The rhyme scheme is AABB, and the rhymes are often forced. The line length and meter are irregular.

I had already written the above poem when I read the prompt, but thought I’d include a clerihew based on the same theme. You can see it below:

Lorena Bobbitt
chose to cut it off and lob it,
Could take no more
of the abuse that she endured.

When We Were Wee

We are friends and friends we’ll be,
A promise made when we were wee,
When we’ve grown old disgracefully,
We’ll dip our toes at eighty-three
in the very water of the very sea
where you first made the pact with me.

You swore to be there by my side,
I swore in me you could confide,
We swore with pinkies intertwined
While our mothers bathed ‘neath sunbaked skies,
We’d bridge a gap an ocean wide
to the wipe the tears the other cried.

Not distance, time, nor life’s debris,
Could break the tie from you to me,
Forged with innocence and surety,
With adamance and purity,
A promise made when we were wee,
We are friends and friends we’ll be.

 

Thisnapowrimo2015 poem was written for NaPoWriMo, but after a long and stressful day at work I did not follow today’s prompt. Hopefully normal service will resume tomorrow!

Poetry by Serena Malcolm Copyright 2015 All Rights Reserved

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