at Peace    1969 -   
Thou cometh the Winter
in discontent
the leaves of Summer
must give up the rent
~ Helen 04/05/14

Remember this,
To be touched
is not just
Fingertips on skin
Hugs of the soul
are a deeper embrace
They reach beyond
the human face
to see where
you truly begin
~ Helen 26/12/13

'When the time comes
place the coin,
beneath my tongue
so I may pay
Charon!
Or else my
journey
has scarce begun'
~ Helen 01/12/13

All poems posted are original and written by me, Helen Doogan, under copyright law except where expressed and acknowledged to the original author.

In other words... don't steal my shit ;)
Thou cometh the Winter
in discontent
the leaves of Summer
must give up the rent
~ Helen 04/05/14

Remember this,
To be touched
is not just
Fingertips on skin
Hugs of the soul
are a deeper embrace
They reach beyond
the human face
to see where
you truly begin
~ Helen 26/12/13

'When the time comes
place the coin,
beneath my tongue
so I may pay
Charon!
Or else my
journey
has scarce begun'
~ Helen 01/12/13

All poems posted are original and written by me, Helen Doogan, under copyright law except where expressed and acknowledged to the original author.

In other words... don't steal my shit ;)
Helen
Helen
1 day ago

He said
it's just like bees
that make the honey

a conversation between my husband and I, he can't understand why all us poets are not rolling in wealth... I love him so much :)
Helen
Helen
1 day ago      1 day ago

Dear World

I'm no Aphrodite
I have not the powers
of Zeus
I might be closer
to Hades
but I'm not so
obtuse
I can't handle separation
just like Persephone
or handle rejection
like Narcissus
I'm not built like that
you see?
I don't dance like Callisto
nor frolic like Nereid
I would like think
I'm not so frivolous
as that
I'm not one to look upon
a perfectly formed vista
and pronounce myself
Queen of all
but in a small voice
in the dark of night
I whisper

I'm not  Atlas  either

I'm so tired of having to hold up my world :(
  Reposted by Helen  ·  3 days ago
Marshal Gebbie
Marshal Gebbie
3 days ago      3 days ago

Tones of green for envy
Red for passions fire,
Blackness for obscurity
And rougeness for desire
Yellow colours buttercups
In happiness and glee
But whiteness for the purity
of your heart's charity.
Pink depicts your girliness
Gold means you are rich
But grey brings out the trouble
When, occasionally, you're a bitch,
Tangerine for tittiness
And gingerness your muff....
Oops! Now I'm in deep do-doos
For I've painted...quite enough!
M.

Helen insisted that I post this.....
Helen
Helen
4 days ago

I'm not really who I pretend to be
I'm not really angry at other people
I'm more angry at me.
It's just easier to reflect on them
as they are defenceless,
though it seems senseless
for them to be the object of my ire
while they sit patiently, waiting
to be object of my desire
It's simply easier for me to paint them
in water colours
that drip upon a canvas
that can't absorb it
than it is to mar the canvas of my life
with Oils, that appear more solid.

I've been painting (another love of mine) a lot, experimenting... words flow into pictures and I see a pattern...
Helen
Helen
6 days ago

So many times, she had fallen down
as each blow sent her to the ground
She swallowed the blood from her lips
while mentally tallying her chips

As each verbal knife serrated her heart
she managed to save just a small part
and tucked it away beneath her soul
knowing it was needed to make her whole

She kissed lips that poisoned her mind
digging fingernails into hips not so kind
Alternating between Heaven and Hell
the music changed, and she could tell

By the slow cadance of a sultry beat
and the true meaning of passions heat
she took steps that were just a chance
She finally learnt she knew how to dance

Helen
Helen
7 days ago

My washing machine
when it ends the cycle
plays a jaunty little tune
It's like it's so happy
it finished washing
and invites you to join in
My oven, just dings once
when it determines
the food is cooked
If you don't hear the bell toll
the food eventually looks
like something the cat dragged in
My phone beeps
just once
with a text message
from someone
who went away
for months and months
My email dings
delightedly
once all the spam
is downloaded
and my television turns off
in precisely 90 mins
as I instructed it to do
I'm asleep before it exploded
There is a certain tone
to each and every ending
a little ditty, a tinkling bell
or, just,
an unconscious pretending

and if you are confused by this, please spare a thought for the writer ;)
Helen
Helen
Oct 12

Here lies
her name in dust
She achieved
Love from Lust
She lays down
in a field of shame

then the grave marker
ran out of dates
and forgot her name

 
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