Bluebell in my hand,
Sheltered petals kissed with dew,
Cold gnawing at my fingers,
But I will not let her through.
Bluebell safe and warm,
Perfume rising on the wind,
Winter wants to take you from me,
But I will not let him win.
Bluebell dipped in sky,
Violet harbour in this grey,
I know that you are dying,
But you need not be afraid.
Bluebell mine, bluebell mine,
Ever beautiful and frail,
Long after you have left me,
My heart will sing your tale.
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
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.
Dedicated to my beautiful cousin Erica; gone but never forgotten. Thank you for the smiles. Sweet dreams, Angel.
Side by side,
We are grey,
We are cracked,
We are broken,
Swaying to a rhythm of
Please hold my hand
for it is crumbling,
Someone hug me
for I am breaking,
Hold me up
before I fall,
knees are weak
I need shoulders
for my heavy head,
We are joined by
one prevailing sadness,
Held in the stasis
of our grief,
(But still we
eke out a smile
at a joyful memory,
We slip a laugh
between the tears…)
One doll is gone,
One doll ascended,
The remaining dolls
are now fragmented,
picking up the
Tiny bits of porcelain,
But we have each other,
We are together,
And many pieces
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;
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
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
here in our lives.
I never met you,
But I miss you,
You don’t exist,
But I kiss you
in my dreams,
I set aside a portion of my heart,
Swaddled it in endless love,
And engraved it with your name,
But you never came to be,
And so I miss you.
Destined now to grieve eternally,
For all the times that we’ll not see,
For the smell of you
nuzzled next to me,
You would have been my legacy,
The third of three,
The third best thing
I’ve ever achieved,
A beautiful embodiment of possibility,
But you, my love, weren’t meant to be.
And you, my love, will never be.
And you, my love, will never see
just how much
I miss you.
When you want something,
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 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
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
This 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 😉
Once upon the daylight blue,
A longing was drawn in vivid hues,
And sat lucid in her reverie,
For times that she and he once knew.
Painted on her memory’s eye,
Thoughts flittered like a butterfly,
They tickled at the brink of truth,
And swaddled her mind in a dulcet lie.
He no longer walks the realm of we,
He’s not bound by mortal foolery,
But he’s exalted in her ceaseless dream,
Where they dance for all eternity.
This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge was to write a Persian ruba’i, which is stanza with the rhyming pattern AABA. A collection of ruba’i is called a rubaiyat and that is what I’ve produced today. Oh, and the title is a combination of the words forever and reverie!
In this hole I am not whole,
Stagnant in my body
and in my soul,
Rutted in my thoughts and in my deeds,
And all of my needs remain unsung.
A guitar that they can strum,
My heart is just a bullet in their gun,
Waiting for their will to be done,
And for my life to be undone,
A slave waiting for the hammer to be swung,
And overrun with the pictures of my death
I hold my breath
and I then plead
But they’re deaf to all my pleas,
Blind to me down here on my knees,
Aching just to please,
Discarded like a tissue used to catch a sneeze.
Like I’m not even worthy of their phlegm.
Like I am their phlegm.
And look at them;
Sated by pure apathy
and fatted with contempt,
They are content
to watch me sin and then repent,
And sin and then repent.
Unrelenting until I’m spent.
Until it’s too late,
Until I’m decaying in their hate
and I stagnate.
Don’t smile when I am happy
If you cannot cry when I cry too
You were where when I was lonely?
I was comforted by whom?
Don’t take me from imagination
It’s all I have: to dream
The path back to reality
Is floored with flaws supreme
Don’t push me from the edge
Of insanity’s vast wall
For when I hit rock bottom
You’re not there to break my fall
Don’t stir me from my slumber
When I am lost in reverie
For I have died in my consciousness
And all I have is sleep
Don’t ever deride my spirit
When I am knelt in prayer
For when I really need you
Not one of you is there