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

Come unto to us
as you promised
yet you hide

Step up, be a Man
your absence
is damaged pride

Bring forth your rapture
Shower the Earth
in Heavenly Rain

Or else step back
and return to Myth
in disdain

Don't preach to me
in fairy tales
drowning in contradictions

Come unto us

I Wish to God

to be free
of this affliction

Religion (organised or otherwise) makes my skin crawl...
Helen
Helen
3 days ago

Knock knock knock

There is no precedence
for a knock on the door
she’s busy cleaning
while staring at the floor

Knock knock knock

It’s the insistence of the knock
that has her trembling
and she’s ready to give up
until she starts remembering

There is no one who would
knock upon the door
Her little army of Seven
would never leave her trembling
there is only one
who would want to settle the score

She peers beyond the curtain
and sees fruit
She is hungry, and just a little angry
her army of Seven
are mighty
but they are miners
and she needs to eat
and the apple merchant
is elderly
with a smile
there is no fear
of a brute

Her mouth waters
for a taste of fruit

She opens the door
and reaches forward
murmuring
“Just one taste”

The merchant is eager
to hand over the apple
cackling
“That is all it takes”

"But first and foremost
be warned...
A prince may, or may not
come
Bite the apple
you are the one to decide
Sate your hunger now
or wait!
Eat, or don’t eat
Let your decision be
your demise"

Snow White is hungry
and angry
that the little men
don’t provide
and she’ll bite the apple
holding onto the hope
that her decision
is the one
that will provoke her prince
to ride
to her side

But it was otherwise known
that her prince was thus occupied
by a busty wench
and he didn’t feel the rip
in the fabric of time

Snow White collapses
clutching the apple
in her hand
representing all her hopes
and dreams
the years trickle away
like sand

It’s apparent that all
that she had left
to watch over her
was a small figure
that if she could see
would make her run
more than a mile

But for the apple
clutched in her fist

Poor old Grumpy
might crack a smile

September 11 2011
Helen
Helen
3 days ago

The cavernous space
that separates us
is just a table
and there is me
at one end
and you
at the other
We could stand
and meet
at the middle
if either one of us
were able

But we are separated
by our own greed
or misplaced
Hatred

It doesn’t matter
as you scatter
the dishes
in front of you
to pounce
upon the snow white linen
and your feral grin
is too much to ignore

My heart beats
rapidly
as each and every
carefully prepared dish
is brushed nonchalantly
to the floor
as you prowl
toward me
down the middle
of the table
I’m leaning back
in my chair
fully prepared
for what is in store

We could have
stood up
and met halfway
but the animal attraction
would have been missing
and as you approach
up the middle
clearing a path
I’ve already anticipated
your intent
and tilted my chair back
to have me
looking up
from the floor

Knowing I’m the one
you are hungry for

13 September 2011
Helen
Helen
3 days ago

I’ve sketched a thousand pictures
of you, over a millennium of time
There is a great winged demon
with poison in its veins
and fire in it’s eyes

and horns

The snake in the long grass
morphing into a chameleon
The Greek god, all flowing hair
and rippling muscles
A rose, out of season

with deadly thorns

a Warrior, a Monk, a Conductor
that led the symphonies
of the world into song
A man who laughed
in the face of danger
A broken boy that wept
A knight that charged in upon
a wicked steed
drawing a sword and standing tall
against a world that would do you
wrong

I’ve painted an exhibition
that the world would die for
Accessing the memories of a Hero
only I know what I saw
After so much colour and pageantry
witnessing each lightening stage
It’s hard for me to stand here
Empty
in front of a blank page

6th January 2012
Helen
Helen
5 days ago

Drink in hand, and a perfect face
An empty glass is just a disgrace
Conversation is simply asinine
Like a vulture sipping on wine
Just waiting to begin the feast
But the beast is slow in dying
Ignoring the soul that's crying
Talking to the hand, instead of the fist
Never would the words flow like this
We'll always have this at least
No cease to the lesson learned
That emotions are not earned
They're drunk from the deepest well
Spilling into a levy, where they dwell
Mayhap the chatter will surcease
Silence is achieved in rotating worlds
In a universe of unspoken words
When realistically all that will matter
Is this dizzying, inane chatter
Where only syllables will decrease

Helen
Helen
Apr 11

I check my followers every day
and when the clock turns back
it makes my heart sink

because it's not that I think
that I've been unfollowed
I certainly don't think that
no, as my clock ticks backwards it's
because who I follow also declines
by each tock, according to the stats

So yeah,
every time I lose a follower
my heart shrivels inside my chest
because another person I admire
has laid down their pen to rest

and each and every time, it shatters me :(
Helen
Helen
Apr 10

How many of you here counted
your last moment?
How many of you wondered if
your last breath breathed would be
the moment you would own it?

How many of you published words
as if it would be the last you write?
How many here read those words?
Hugging them long into the night?

How many of you tried to say
exactly what you feel, but failed?
How many times did you edited it
every single word, every line?
Just to post it so it was unveiled?

How many times did you refresh
the words that you have lied?
How many times have you typed
every tear that you have cried?

How many times did you say
I love you in a thousand letters
As many times as it takes you
to make the world seem better


Your poetry is as important
as the balm upon a soul
Your words caught upon a page
are a literal bomb

#poetry   #time   #bomb   #literally  
 
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