Category Archives: Heartbreak

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.

I Choose You

an idea
for us two

[maybe] worth
us playing through:

time that
I choose you,

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.


Let’s play a different type of game:
I’ll pretend that you’re not home late,
If you pretend that you’re ashamed,

I’ll ignore your pathetic state,
If you wipe all that lipstick off
your shirt and make your tie look straight,

I will ignore the telling wafts
of the perfume that’s on your skin
and the alcohol when you cough,

If you don’t act like the victim,
Like hurting me is hurting you,
Like it’s done and she means nothing,

I’ll forget she’s someone that I knew,
I’ll forget that this time makes three,
I’ll pretend I hadn’t a clue,

If you’ll just stop your whiny pleas
If, like a man, you’ll own the blame,
If you’ll just go ahead and leave,
Because I’m tired of that game.

napowrimo2015Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a terzanelle. I’ll let you read about it here. It certainly was a challenge but I enjoyed it.


Looks like my mind was elsewhere today and I didn’t read the full prompt. Thankfully it was pointed out by a fellow poet and the reworked poem is below. I prefer the original, but this one is a true terzanelle. What do you think?

If you pretend that you’re ashamed,
I’ll pretend that you’re not home late,
Because I’m tired of this game,

I’ll ignore your pathetic state,
If you wipe all that lipstick off,
I’ll pretend that you’re not home late,

I will ignore the telling wafts
Like there’s no perfume on your skin,
If you wipe that lipstick off,

If you don’t act like the victim,
Like hurting me is hurting you,
Like there’s no perfume on your skin,

I’ll forget she’s someone that I knew,
I will not stop you when you leave,
Like hurting me is hurting you,

If you just stop your whiny pleas
If, like a man, you own the blame,
I will not stop you when you leave,
Because I’m tired of this game.


You don’t see me
as I move
across your day,

You don’t see the things I do,

You don’t see me,
So I shouldn’t be surprised
that you step on me,

Walk all over me,

Without the faintest
that I’m


by your side,
You don’t see me


you don’t even care,
You do what you do,
You don’t care what I do,

You don’t care when I cry,

You don’t care about me,
You don’t even



Unseen down here
on my knees,
Waiting to be thrown a bone,
But you won’t,
Because you don’t see me,

Because I’m on my own.


I looked at him,
Into the emerald of his eye,
And he did not see me,
My fingers passed right through
the rosy blush upon his cheek
and he did not feel me,
I said that thing he always loved
and the words; they just evaporated
and he did not hear me,
And the saccharine scent of my perfume
that reminded him of butterflies
just fell into the void
and he did not smell me,
And he didn’t press upon
the worry of my brow
with the softness of his lips;
He did not taste me,

And then I knew
that I was asleep,

And then I cried
no tears.

In Her Tears

Yesterday I wrote a poem called “Heartsickness“. During my search for a suitable photo, I found the one featured above. It caught my eye and even though it wasn’t quite right for yesterday’s piece I felt it deserved to be shown off. So I have written a poem which was inspired by, and is dedicated to, this beautiful piece of photography. I hope I’ve done it some small justice…

She could stretch out
her fingers a million miles
and the tips would fall short of his face,
Too many hates and too many lies
have filled up that cavernous space.

He could stare
for a minute, a day and a night
at the anguish his reflection betrays,
But he’ll never again see the man she first loved,
the man who once swept her away.

They could forgive
– it is not an impossible feat –
but forgetting would take them both years,
This man with a crumbling world in his hunch
and this girl with a tide in her tears.


It’s no surprise
that when you look at me
with your steely eyes
they reveal to me
the malefic lies
that, I have come to realise,
the dulcet ways in which I despise
the totality of your disguise;
Adeptly kept,
But it belies
the dreck your mind and soul comprise,
The loathing in your voice implies
a heartsickness of epic size
that will catalyse
our love’s demise
and leave me here
to crystallise,
And though it’s all just so unwise,
And though it would be ill-advised,
When you look at me
with those steely eyes
and vapidly apologise,
I fill lamentably with butterflies,
Common sense need not apply,
Once again I’m hyptonised
and each and every wicked lie
is freshly, neatly, trivialised
and once again I compromise,
So of course
it’s comes as no surprise
that, when all is said and realised,
this is all that qualifies
as paradise
here in our lives.

A Silent Goodbye

When you want something,
I’m told,
the whole universe conspires
to give it to you.
But as I watch your hand rest so certainly
on the handle of the front door
that you once carried me through,
I can only deduce that the universe hates me.
I’m not crying;
I did that in abundance while you were upstairs packing.
All you can see now
(that is, if you could look me in the eye,
which you can’t)
are the carmine cracks
that my tears have scored into my eyeballs.
The pain that is etched there
is a direct representation
of the pain carved into the chambers of my heart
And there’s this… hollowness…
It sits in the same place
that used to flitter like a butterfly
whenever your fingers graced my skin.
I can all but taste your smile;
The one that you seem to have buried somewhere dark.
And unforgiving
And unreachable.
And I fight the urge to cup your face in my hands one last time,
To rub my thumbs against the bristles of your beard
and breathe you in
as I press my inferior lips against your perfect ones.
I fight the urge to ask you ‘why?’ for the thousandth time.
Because for the thousandth time I’d feel the word
hang leaden
in the impossible chasm between my mouth and your ears.
For the thousandth time I’d wait like a naïve child
for an answer that has never and will never come.
And as I catch myself in my own arms,
As I battle to hold myself still while my knees give up,
I realise that you are already at the gate.
That you’ve not looked back.
That you’ve not even uttered a ‘goodbye’.
That you’ve turned your back on me.
On our home.
On our life.
That ‘our’ has died and that ‘I’ might too.
That you have gone.
And into the ether
– not loud enough for even me to hear –
I scream a whispered declaration of my love
for the very last time
to a man who admittedly left me years ago,
But who is only just now
driving away.

napo2014button2This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s final challenge was, very fittingly, to write a farewell poem. My last few poems have not been received too well, so I was feeling quite down anyway, and as such this one just poured out of nowhere!

Goodbye NaPoWriMo, see you again next year 😉

Dark Chocolate

You once told me you were a box of chocolates,
Said I’d never know quite what I’d get,
And you said you weren’t any old chocolates;
You were Green & Blacks – simply the best!

And just like that aforesaid chocolate,
You were dark, smooth, rich and so sweet,
You tasted like some heavenly nectar
(and smelt, felt, and looked magnifique!)

Oh the malevolent wings of memory!
They’ve just carried me swiftly away,
Back to when your love was my master
and it whipped me as if I were its slave.

Did you hear that I once sat up all night,
Just hoping that you’d give me a call?
I begged myself, “Rena, please sleep!”
I can almost touch the pure shame of it all.

There’ll be a headline explaining my death:
Clogging Cocoa Causes Coronary!
You’ll have stopped my poor heart from, well, beating,
Then shrugged it off with a trite, “Ces’t la vie!

You might just be earth’s mightiest scumbag!
Like the wicked witch was to Dorothy,
And I’m quite sure that this isn’t Kansas,
So no ruby Manolo’s for me.

I hate you! I hate you but love you…
I guess you’re just that kind of guy;
One minute you make me feel scuzzy,
The next, you are making me fly.

Now I’m boiling like water for chocolate!
(But I know you won’t get the analogy;
It doesn’t mean that I’m totally hot for you,
It means that I’m delectably angry…)

My God, you’re just so much like chocolate,
But not like you said at the start;
You’re an unrefined, bitter old bean
that plays ping pong with poor puny hearts.

napo2014button2This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge was to write “Twenty Little Poetry Projects”. Essential another recipe poem with the following twenty rules (I think I got most of them):

  1. Begin the poem with a metaphor.
  2. Say something specific but utterly preposterous.
  3. Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.
  4. Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).
  5. Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.
  6. Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.
  7. Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.
  8. Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.
  9. Use an example of false cause-effect logic.
  10. Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).
  11. Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”
  12. Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.
  13. Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”
  14. Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.
  15. Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.
  16. Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.
  17. Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.
  18. Use a phrase from a language other than English.
  19. Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).
  20. Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem.

In Conversation

You said you didn’t love me,
You said all hope was gone,
You said you didn’t want me,
I said that you were wrong.

You said that it was complex,
You said I wouldn’t understand,
You said we’d grown apart,
I said I didn’t give a damn.

You said that I was stupid,
You said I should grow up,
You said I should stop crying,
I said I didn’t give a fuck.

You said that you were going,
You said that I should stand aside,
But every time you said things,
Your eyes said they were lies.

So I said that I forgave you,
You said the same to me,
I said that we could fix things,
You said that you agreed.

I said that I still loved you,
You said you loved me too,
I said that we should talk more,
You said that that was true…

napo2014button2This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge was to write an anaphora, which is a literary term for the practice of repeating certain words or phrases at the beginning of multiple clauses or, in the case of a poem, multiple lines.