Thunder and lightning and glass on the beach
I covered my ears with lace, put shoes on my feet
I walked out into the ocean with my heart in my hand
And cried for a tornado to scoop up the sand
I buried my locket in an old leather case
Hoping that time and water could erase
All of the engraving you chiseled through my veins
And that you can feel the lightening each time it rains
But no one would fear me, no hermit or fish
Came out of hiding to hear my soft wish
So I drowned my sorrows in a green bottle of sin
And cursed out the devil as he laughed at his win.
Almost vividly, could I see your face
Almost surely, did you begin to escape.
With salt and seashells, I lathered my veil
That I found in the tummy of a large ocean whale
Who ate out my innards and spit me back on the ground
So I could be rescued, if I ever was found.
But no help came the night that I died
So I finally threw out the pain and from here, I flied.
Mother soon you will be free to fly again outside the prison of your body, to dance in the cosmos amongst heavens realm.
To communicate with the oneness that is the universe, interpreted through your faith in God, and join the sanctuary of the other departed souls.
Gather again with your closest and dearest, still remembered and never forgotten in luxurious unity, comfort and divine peace.
The journey is over on this mortal coil, hard fought through effort and pain, frustrated emotions struggling for lucid thought.
Time now to rest, seek comfort and the quietness of serenity that awaits you after this struggle for your existence.
Surrender to the all engulfing love, its strong embrace, savour the attraction of the ultimate reality unfolding.
Leave now in the knowledge that those still here acknowledge and respect the greatest sacrifices you made for them.
Death kisses the spirit and wraps the emotions securely, igniting the soul's flame to burn brightly once again.
Fly high and free like a bird, Jonathan's got nothing on you as you soar and sweep through silvery feathered clouds to the deep blue joy edged with gilded light.
I am trapped in the shackle of your thoughts
I reign terror over your mind, saturate it with the sound of my whiney voice
On the faces of strangers in the streets you cast your glare
It is my face you see
Every breath you take triggers thoughts of me
Even the sight of shadows have me consuming your entire being
My laughter echoes ceaselessly in the halls of your tiny abode
Visions of me in a pale pink robe appear in your bedroom
Pulsating is your heart at the sight of the vibrant luminosity I exude
As we dance to the music in our hearts
With the moonlight cheering us on
We will reminiscence and ache and ache and ache
Nostalgia will overpower us as it always does
When the hour arrives
I will fade into the light of dawn
And you my darling will be left embracing nothingness.
Look at the thirty-three.
Nine years ago
in the junior school hall
and now how many miles
between you, and you
bananas on our faces,
eleven, maybe twelve
with collars all tidy
and jumpers tucked in.
We grew up too fast.
A few have kids
where we once did.
But this one's at Park
and I walk an Avenue.
This one has tattoos
and this one had drugs.
And you, third row,
well you moved abroad.
I'll bet ten bucks
you don't 'remember when?'
If I saw her, him now
what would I say?
Perhaps a light hello
or not one word.
They have far different leaves
on their trees.
Near a decade later,
the photo back on my shelf.
Here's to you,
what we were
grabbed our hand.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time about a photograph of my Year Six (2003-04) group at school. This piece, partially inspired by Ted Hughes's poem 'Six Young Men', may be part of my third-year university dissertation regarding Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.
We'd been walking for an age,
Stone by passing stone
We passed ever onward,
Towards our end
Here will do, came the call,
It brimmed with confidence
But it came from, God knows who.
The shadows shift to greet the day,
The shovels drift through seas of waste.
We've struggled here, me and you.
Now fight the earth, and raise this tomb.
But who is speaking?
Where from do they call?
Why was I beckoned here?
Am I really here at all?
Its all so facile!
A predictable jaunt!
It was all called from day one,
Now there's just the motions to evoke.
The dirt brushed steel finds the reaches of the deep
You'd seek to sleep, had you earned your rest
Yet among cartoon images and plastic sets
I think you'll find, you were at your best
To the dark, to the dark,
You stride with brimming smile into the reach
As if to deprive, yet no one would ever seek
Why scrawl in a corner, what do you hope to yield?
Listen now boy, the dirt is all there is
Bow your head and conceal your task
We'll hit rock bottom and you'll sleep at last.