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 Jul 2017 Kerri
Keith Wilson
Breathe out the bad stuff
The fear anxiety depression
And all the nasty evil thoughts
Breathe in the good stuff
Wisdom and light
From a clear clear sky
No clouds
And inner peace and calm will come
Just as a bubble bursts
All the nasty stuff
will disappear
 Jun 2016 Kerri
Rochelle Thomas
I smell baby powder
Here in my bed
Puts a cloud over
All the thoughts in my head
Most things I say
I regret having said
And all through the day
I prefer lying
Here
Just
Horizontally
Looking through my photo album of
Imaginary friends & make believe realities
Creating new ones
Over and over until
My current state
Disappears
Altogether.
 Dec 2015 Kerri
Hilldene
Roots softly entwined
like thoughts in the dark cold earth.
Woven in the loom of the mind.
How something so pure can grow from something so sinister.
Long hairs tinted yellow sprouting from your tips.  
Your soft white whispers drifting through the air,
catching the current in the skies.
I hold you in my hands, gently inhale your temporary beauty.
Caught in a trance as I exhale and watch you disappear.
Up to the skies I look to see you getting swept up.
My wish made was never granted.
You're gone now and I'm left with an unearthly empty shell.
I open my hands and all that remain of you fall effortlessly to the ground.
Your fall cushioned by long green fingers reaching to the sky.
There, you are reunited with other such as yourself.
Those empty promises echoed in the carcasses that lay next to yours.
-
Your brazen tips glazed in a shock of colour
Pregnant with joyful scents, bursting through your silky palms
Untouchable Ivory put on ostentatious display
Waxy green protection against jealous creatures allured by your bold skin
Spiked tongue lapping up soft powder
Palate tingling colours
Come now young one, let your hand out
Touch the rays of sun that break through the clouds
Unfurl your glossy arms let them reach to the skies
Embrace the copper halo of fresh dawn
-
Kaleidoscopic explosion of feathery pink from
frivolous lace of green
shooting from an abyss of fleshy undertones
chirping in a bloom of tenderness
Natural flirt laying delicious kisses on your diaphanous hands
Dashes of bittersweet morning yellow erupting from flaxen haired beings
Quotidian fever blushing your glossy cheeks
Exuberant vitality in the eyes of the beholder
-
Darling Delilah somersaults under the summer sky.
Tender yellow belly jade-inlaid silently teasing
Wistful white limbs under threat - recited childish game
Droplets of tears cried over lost lovers, gently caress your velvety skin
Loves me, loves me not.
Follow the trail of loved golden petals
Plucked from a field of menageries
The field of unspoken languages
Jovial melodies escape your white rib cage
Wolf-whistle hymns emanate from your progeny
-
Winter’s frost biting at your satin petals
Drawing your soft palms together in a synchronized motion
Awaiting the Sun's demise
Fading from fluorescent pink to a beige purple
accepting your fate as night crawls nearer
Tiny capsules cuddle your closed body, capturing the light of day
Bitter breezes sway your spirit sweetly as the moon shines over the sleeping
-
Midnight blue hung it's head low, gracefully dipping it's toes in the icy water
Exhaling soft whispers in the ears of the insomniac
under the blanket of tattered stars
Glitter embellished skies shatter into fragments of shadows
Picturesque luminous nebula sprayed across the abysmal crescent
Luminosity fades from your touch and lower you bow
Lullaby your fragile celestial glow into a deep sleep
-
Mourners tears fall
Staining your diminutive blue faces black
Remorseful mutters tremble your weary heart
Aching voices tearing your delicate edges
Myosotis silvatica engraved upon the headstone where they lay
Forget-me-not child as I am immortal, lost souls earnt divinity
Warm blooded fingertips clench your presence
Dark figures gently brush past
A ceremonial statement
For the grieving
H.E 4/9/15
You made a poet fall in love with you
And expected her not to write sonnets about your eyes
Haikus about the way you kissed her in the moonlight
Expected the fire in her heart not to inspire couplets
You made a poet fall in love with you, and when you left
Expected her not to write pages about the ache in her chest
Write a soliloquy dedicated to her tears
Expected her not to feel every gut wrenching moment of the pen hitting paper like your words hit her in the most vulnerable places of her mind.
You made a poet fall in love with you, and you expected her to be silent.
That is no fault of hers.

— The End —