laura-susan-smith - Hello Poetry

I hear the low rumble of force and fear, the distance closing soon to be upon me, reigning down to ravage the landscape, wrenching the very life from all and sunder. I steel myself in fading moments of calm, connecting with my soul in brief stillness, knowing this could be the last time I may know myself, to feel my vulnerability, to see and remember those I love so dear, and those who dearly love and behold me. I feel my heart fall at the starting post as fear and force grip me in stark contrast, I have little choice as the burgeoning moment paces itself ever onward with reality stamping in my face; vying for strength, for cowardice to disperse and clear the path for the oncoming wagon of battle, to free the world from this tyrant and wash ourselves clean of war and woe. Stale air creeps upon me, the familiar smell of bodies gaping with wounds, of blood spattered stains upon the earth, of tears and sweat mingled with the raging war cry, to see others silently yet fearfully steady themselves before the terrifying spectacle that besets. I know you as my enemy and must remain in this mindset to stand me strong to do my duty, but yet I want to shake your hand and know you as we are the same in our order of the day, without choice we are here to settle the score, not between one another but for the bigger wheel that turns with freedom as its epitaph. We will not be defeated despite the loss of life, even the threat of connecting with our final hours. I shriek the battle call and find myself running toward the firing line, caught up in the melee of deathly combat that finds itself torn apart amid the frenzy of body upon body, that cannot allow boundaries their space, the message and focus to slay the foe. I strike out with physical force into flesh that tears apart with ease of human vulnerability, then feel a force within that flails me to the ground, my mind and body hitting the dirt and filth, face sinking, forced into the mixture of ****** mud. I wonder, is this my final moment absorbed into darkness, becoming unaware of the continued chapter around me, knowing not if I will survive or be at deaths door. My duty is done and those around wear the poppy of remembrance, of courage and ultimate sacrifice, allowing their freedom to be continued and realised, and I wear the medal of honour but reap the scars, to live another day that will never dawn the same, passing those that do not know my wounds that persist. Nonetheless I am lucky, given the chance to live my life, to feel the embrace, skin upon skin of those I love.

0

Oct 19, 2018

Oct 19, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC

War

I hear the low rumble of force and fear, the distance closing soon to be upon me, reigning down to ravage the landscape, wrenching the very life from all and sunder. I steel myself in fading moments of calm, connecting with my soul in brief stillness, knowing this could be the last time I may know myself, to feel my vulnerability, to see and remember those I love so dear, and those who dearly love and behold me. I feel my heart fall at the starting post as fear and force grip me in stark contrast, I have little choice as the burgeoning moment paces itself ever onward with reality stamping in my face; vying for strength, for cowardice to disperse and clear the path for the oncoming wagon of battle, to free the world from this tyrant and wash ourselves clean of war and woe. Stale air creeps upon me, the familiar smell of bodies gaping with wounds, of blood spattered stains upon the earth, of tears and sweat mingled with the raging war cry, to see others silently yet fearfully steady themselves before the terrifying spectacle that besets. I know you as my enemy and must remain in this mindset to stand me strong to do my duty, but yet I want to shake your hand and know you as we are the same in our order of the day, without choice we are here to settle the score, not between one another but for the bigger wheel that turns with freedom as its epitaph. We will not be defeated despite the loss of life, even the threat of connecting with our final hours. I shriek the battle call and find myself running toward the firing line, caught up in the melee of deathly combat that finds itself torn apart amid the frenzy of body upon body, that cannot allow boundaries their space, the message and focus to slay the foe. I strike out with physical force into flesh that tears apart with ease of human vulnerability, then feel a force within that flails me to the ground, my mind and body hitting the dirt and filth, face sinking, forced into the mixture of ****** mud. I wonder, is this my final moment absorbed into darkness, becoming unaware of the continued chapter around me, knowing not if I will survive or be at deaths door. My duty is done and those around wear the poppy of remembrance, of courage and ultimate sacrifice, allowing their freedom to be continued and realised, and I wear the medal of honour but reap the scars, to live another day that will never dawn the same, passing those that do not know my wounds that persist. Nonetheless I am lucky, given the chance to live my life, to feel the embrace, skin upon skin of those I love.

55

If we opened up and delved into ourselves, what would we see? A miniature mockery tight lipped, shedding the creases of yesterday Slip away and it will catch you, in indefinite poses, the latch key sapping, the juice subsiding, no generosity searching for you if you will Running from respite to find peace, a wail in a churchyard strictly rigid, doesn't recognise my wide eyes, arriving on time deliberately stamping

0

May 17, 2018

May 17, 2018 at 3:47 PM UTC

Manificently melting

If we opened up and delved into ourselves, what would we see? A miniature mockery tight lipped, shedding the creases of yesterday Slip away and it will catch you, in indefinite poses, the latch key sapping, the juice subsiding, no generosity searching for you if you will Running from respite to find peace, a wail in a churchyard strictly rigid, doesn't recognise my wide eyes, arriving on time deliberately stamping

8

I wrote my soul on a tea towel, one I’d dried up with earlier, the words smudged into the fabric, absorbing my insides into the folds Earlier it had met me, like a minder, drying the crockery of my tears as they ran the race of their lives, soaking the top I’d carefully chosen only earlier that day when a smile had gathered pace and filled the emptiness, completed the gaps of the worn out in block capitals, hoping I’d notice Who are you in the given shadows, so unrecognisable in your black gown, you placed the shawl over your head, your neck gathering the undulating folds…..

0

Mar 6, 2018

Mar 6, 2018 at 7:04 AM UTC

Absorbing me

I wrote my soul on a tea towel, one I’d dried up with earlier, the words smudged into the fabric, absorbing my insides into the folds Earlier it had met me, like a minder, drying the crockery of my tears as they ran the race of their lives, soaking the top I’d carefully chosen only earlier that day when a smile had gathered pace and filled the emptiness, completed the gaps of the worn out in block capitals, hoping I’d notice Who are you in the given shadows, so unrecognisable in your black gown, you placed the shawl over your head, your neck gathering the undulating folds…..

16

A spot appeared, under normal circumstances I wouldn't pay it mind...I almost did not but for the tight whispers, when secrecy staggered across my path, I couldn't keep track and quite suddenly disappearing, I'm left standing and staring, a blank spot, like a dark space, a hole without a filling; foot forward I filled the space, my feet were there before I blinked, on the other side, unsure of the journey in between, I felt the breath of sweat tracing my back, flooding my insides with dread of unknown origin, worse than the eye of a tornado, shocking me. A split in the moment, when seconds shattered into now, drowning time to the bottom of forever; the buzzing in my ears drilled into me, producing a spot felt, a spot now visible, spreading somewhere within, digging its way through skin, through muscle, bones scattered to one side and the pace to reach tarmac was furious, would not forgive, the spot unidentifiable, remained, navigating a way through until reaching a dead end; wanting to turn back proved impossible, the spot had filled, red, ****** red

0

Jan 24, 2018

Jan 24, 2018 at 8:55 AM UTC

The Spot

A spot appeared, under normal circumstances I wouldn't pay it mind...I almost did not but for the tight whispers, when secrecy staggered across my path, I couldn't keep track and quite suddenly disappearing, I'm left standing and staring, a blank spot, like a dark space, a hole without a filling; foot forward I filled the space, my feet were there before I blinked, on the other side, unsure of the journey in between, I felt the breath of sweat tracing my back, flooding my insides with dread of unknown origin, worse than the eye of a tornado, shocking me. A split in the moment, when seconds shattered into now, drowning time to the bottom of forever; the buzzing in my ears drilled into me, producing a spot felt, a spot now visible, spreading somewhere within, digging its way through skin, through muscle, bones scattered to one side and the pace to reach tarmac was furious, would not forgive, the spot unidentifiable, remained, navigating a way through until reaching a dead end; wanting to turn back proved impossible, the spot had filled, red, ****** red

19

The day produced uncertainty, wet slashes, whipped wind battered the summer sun, grey misty breath coughed then fell silent. Teasing, the sun sprinkled a spun layer, found pretty pockets to blink through. Swallowing hard the sky shook it's blue blanket, spreading wide, seemingly inviting the sun to sit alongside, to reminisce; a fine day ripened, exhaled across the ocean, breathing in the ebb and flow. Up high the sun towered it's flaming glory, chanted a rhythmic rhyme of radiance. I celebrated, hugging its splendour, felt it warm me to my bones.

0

Jul 22, 2017

Jul 22, 2017 at 8:37 AM UTC

The Day

The day produced uncertainty, wet slashes, whipped wind battered the summer sun, grey misty breath coughed then fell silent. Teasing, the sun sprinkled a spun layer, found pretty pockets to blink through. Swallowing hard the sky shook it's blue blanket, spreading wide, seemingly inviting the sun to sit alongside, to reminisce; a fine day ripened, exhaled across the ocean, breathing in the ebb and flow. Up high the sun towered it's flaming glory, chanted a rhythmic rhyme of radiance. I celebrated, hugging its splendour, felt it warm me to my bones.

16

A round black hard button pressed itself at the walls of my stomach, churned and mixed a cocktail, a shaking mass of temporary fight or flight. It was not the menu I was hoping to greet this morning. I sidled the park pathway in search of fresh air, cramped from living with wooden emotions, without release, not fit for sharing, let alone thinking second by second, continually mocking like seagulls swirling overhead spitting at the passers-by, grabbing at leftovers in their wake. I soft footed the hard surface, heading away from my mind, it followed; pulling punches. The bike, quiet, sprung past, knocked at my reverie and temporarily subjected me to the outside. I hated that second; how it tripped me up, inviting itself. I hadn’t asked, it hadn’t replied, it happened, I groaned and felt the hard grind as the button pushed deeper. The relentless gusty air clutched at my skin, spilling tears onto my cheeks, catching at my silent lips. I did not draw a hand up to scrub them clean, it wasn’t worth the effort, almost daring them to be seen; for someone to look….. help me…..

0

Jul 1, 2017

Jul 1, 2017 at 5:55 AM UTC

Help Me

A round black hard button pressed itself at the walls of my stomach, churned and mixed a cocktail, a shaking mass of temporary fight or flight. It was not the menu I was hoping to greet this morning. I sidled the park pathway in search of fresh air, cramped from living with wooden emotions, without release, not fit for sharing, let alone thinking second by second, continually mocking like seagulls swirling overhead spitting at the passers-by, grabbing at leftovers in their wake. I soft footed the hard surface, heading away from my mind, it followed; pulling punches. The bike, quiet, sprung past, knocked at my reverie and temporarily subjected me to the outside. I hated that second; how it tripped me up, inviting itself. I hadn’t asked, it hadn’t replied, it happened, I groaned and felt the hard grind as the button pushed deeper. The relentless gusty air clutched at my skin, spilling tears onto my cheeks, catching at my silent lips. I did not draw a hand up to scrub them clean, it wasn’t worth the effort, almost daring them to be seen; for someone to look….. help me…..

21

Taking a stance, strong as a mountain, would you hear me, carried on echoing shoulders; silent are the drums of indifference, that fall on deaf ears of invisibility Trembling unnoticed, a tightrope vibrating with unseen footsteps; a bird flawlessly glides catching the drift of words on a wire, follows its winged direction to a fuller climate of interesting twitter and leaves me speechless. Impressions of sound drown loudly, parallel pronunciations of an endearing nature cough up smarter sentences, those that are heard on street corners fighting for listeners choosing to pause and grant the unheard an audience to be proud of. I bow to their fame in that one moment, devouring their words, sifting the debris

0

May 13, 2015

May 13, 2015 at 9:10 AM UTC

Invisible

Taking a stance, strong as a mountain, would you hear me, carried on echoing shoulders; silent are the drums of indifference, that fall on deaf ears of invisibility Trembling unnoticed, a tightrope vibrating with unseen footsteps; a bird flawlessly glides catching the drift of words on a wire, follows its winged direction to a fuller climate of interesting twitter and leaves me speechless. Impressions of sound drown loudly, parallel pronunciations of an endearing nature cough up smarter sentences, those that are heard on street corners fighting for listeners choosing to pause and grant the unheard an audience to be proud of. I bow to their fame in that one moment, devouring their words, sifting the debris

16

Unsure in thought, feelings deadened fostered by the dark sea, the raft dithering, words hauntingly absent, lapping up each syllable, a sinking note, plummeting like a depth charge, tying me down to the sea bed in unknown shifting currents, the tide turning me over and over, water logged and sand bagged in deep coral shifts. I drowned a thousand letters, bit into sentences; no one heard me. Coldness shared its chilling weight, leaving spaces where conversation once played out, hand crafted with laughter. I know the embers well, the ashes scatter, float as they dwindle and *****

0

Apr 8, 2015

Apr 8, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC

Unopen

Unsure in thought, feelings deadened fostered by the dark sea, the raft dithering, words hauntingly absent, lapping up each syllable, a sinking note, plummeting like a depth charge, tying me down to the sea bed in unknown shifting currents, the tide turning me over and over, water logged and sand bagged in deep coral shifts. I drowned a thousand letters, bit into sentences; no one heard me. Coldness shared its chilling weight, leaving spaces where conversation once played out, hand crafted with laughter. I know the embers well, the ashes scatter, float as they dwindle and *****

12

I long for the cry of a lyric in simplicity, profound, catching my throat unexpectedly, knowing with immediacy the feel of real honesty. Perfunctory has no mind space, straight as a die, absent of side-lines that trip you up, take you off balance into a whirl of wondering, when meaning is lost in translation to the untrained eye. Solidarity has no invitation to understand, we cannot share freely, the highbrow world punctures their interest, the pages gummed…..no longer turn; this high minded plethora stunts us. Hangs off shoulders like last year’s fashion, trailing the ground, grabbing misunderstandings so deep that it is lost to those who are crying out for peace of mind, souls who are in need of plain and simple food with true meaning. Wanting with all their might to be drawn in. Speak to them, straight tongues without forks jammed beneath pallets, plumbs released from mechanical jaws blocking breath to breathe and sighs to form, not from boredom, but knee deep in wonder; at last offering a tear, a depth, identifying with amusement, laughter. It could be felt, this sense of clarity, like a mountain stream washed clean over time. Find them, find a way to burrow in to meet eyes asking for more

0

Dec 28, 2014

Dec 28, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC

Plain and Simple

I long for the cry of a lyric in simplicity, profound, catching my throat unexpectedly, knowing with immediacy the feel of real honesty. Perfunctory has no mind space, straight as a die, absent of side-lines that trip you up, take you off balance into a whirl of wondering, when meaning is lost in translation to the untrained eye. Solidarity has no invitation to understand, we cannot share freely, the highbrow world punctures their interest, the pages gummed…..no longer turn; this high minded plethora stunts us. Hangs off shoulders like last year’s fashion, trailing the ground, grabbing misunderstandings so deep that it is lost to those who are crying out for peace of mind, souls who are in need of plain and simple food with true meaning. Wanting with all their might to be drawn in. Speak to them, straight tongues without forks jammed beneath pallets, plumbs released from mechanical jaws blocking breath to breathe and sighs to form, not from boredom, but knee deep in wonder; at last offering a tear, a depth, identifying with amusement, laughter. It could be felt, this sense of clarity, like a mountain stream washed clean over time. Find them, find a way to burrow in to meet eyes asking for more

20

Opening up choice, optional outlets Voiced sections of our minds escaped Safety was in silence; speech impeded Powerful penned action leaves the Skull to crack open thought processes Others see into their minds by way of derivation Interaction captured, swooping into bludgeon Spat out red remarks dissolving us, turning over The table of plenty and offending, devaluing self regard Talking us out of being who we are....yet leaves Replaying the turntable of our minds Rinsed out mouths might penetrate the circle of Tight lips, forced shut by silent expectation Fear and squirming ruling our fingertips, wrapping Knuckles pressed firmly to the flesh of repression Gold dust sprinkles the high life, cuts short the Intrinsic pain, lends a hand in the greedy depths Of finding a way through the webs of sarcasm The veiling pretence is insidious in flavour Tastes sweet to the tongue, once swallowed... too late

0

May 1, 2014

May 1, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC

Circle of Opinion

Opening up choice, optional outlets Voiced sections of our minds escaped Safety was in silence; speech impeded Powerful penned action leaves the Skull to crack open thought processes Others see into their minds by way of derivation Interaction captured, swooping into bludgeon Spat out red remarks dissolving us, turning over The table of plenty and offending, devaluing self regard Talking us out of being who we are....yet leaves Replaying the turntable of our minds Rinsed out mouths might penetrate the circle of Tight lips, forced shut by silent expectation Fear and squirming ruling our fingertips, wrapping Knuckles pressed firmly to the flesh of repression Gold dust sprinkles the high life, cuts short the Intrinsic pain, lends a hand in the greedy depths Of finding a way through the webs of sarcasm The veiling pretence is insidious in flavour Tastes sweet to the tongue, once swallowed... too late

20