Can’t you see my happy face?

Can’t you see my happy face?
I’m smiling, can’t you see?
These are tears of joy, you know,
Your blessings gladden me.

Can’t you see my happy face?
It’s the best news the world,
I can’t wait to meet your little one,
Whether boy or whether girl.

(Can’t you see my empty space?
The hole inside my heart?
I may feel glad at what you have,
But I’m also torn apart…)

Can’t you see my happy face?
I’m ecstatic, and it shows,
I’m happy that you’re happy,
And that’s the only truth you’ll know.

Hush Child

Hush child,
Close your eyes,
Shutter out the world
and let the stillness fill your mind.

Hush child,
Hold my hand,
Feel its warmth and strength
and know the might it can withstand.

Hush child,
Take a breath,
Let it fill your lungs
and feel the lightness lift your chest.

Hush child,
Lean on me,
Let me take your hurt
and be your rock when you’re in need.

Hush child,
It will pass,
Pain is part of life,
But rest assured that it won’t last.

I am a Poem

I am a poem.

A complicated tide
of elements that collide
with purpose.

I can make you feel
electrified,
terrified,
alive inside.

I am niche.

I am gauche.

A guilty pleasure.

A hint of something
that was once so
treasured.

Bad and good
in equal measure.

No value in life…
perhaps in death?

I’ll give
until there’s nothing left.

I am a poem
that’s seldom read
and even then
I’m oft
mis-
read.

I just want to make you feel…
To evoke in you
some buried zeal.

But I am words
and it would seem
no words
can set my essence
free.

Til Death

Don’t let my fingers
slip from the palm of your hand,
You’re all I have left.

 

 

Inspired by the story of Italvino and Diva, a Brazilian couple who died within 40 minutes of each other, after 65 years of marriage, in the same hospital room, their beds pushed together so they could hold hands (read more here).

Also dedicated to a couple within my own family who are currently unwell and in hospital. My thoughts, love and prayers are flying their way x

Eyes Wide Shut

I lay here
conversing with
my inner
eyelids,

We try in vain to find
the drowse,
But sleep still lurks
around here
somewhere,
Hiding like a
sulky child,

A night hag pins my
limbs akimbo
as memories
taunt
the peripheries,
In the very edges
of the darkness
I can’t hold on,
I am not me,

I lie at the end of
One Night’s Slumber
but One Night’s Slumber
is avoiding me,

Instead you’re left
with this imposter,
Who screams
at a pitch
to make hearts bleed,
With a tongue that lashes,
flails, belabours,
forked by the dryness
of fatigue,

And I’ll not know
the Sandman’s wonder,
Perchance to sleep;
Forgo the dream.

Example

My Daddy hitted a man,
There was lots of blood and I sawed
that when daddy hitted the man,
the man went to sleep on the floor,

And daddy had on that face,
Like the one when he hitted my mum
and she cried and cried and cried
and kept asking him what she had done,

But daddy, he said it was fine;
He was grumpy but now he’s OK,
That the man is going to wake up,
That the blood will all go away,

He said “Big Man, don’t worry your head,”
(I like it when he calls me Big Man)
“I just want to take a quick ride
in the back of this cool police van!”

And he promised that he’d come back home
to read me a story, so I can sleep,
But… why didn’t he read one just now
to the man who’s asleep at his feet?

Poetry by Serena Malcolm Copyright 2015 All Rights Reserved

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