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Lainey May 2017
They just don't understand.
It's fresh as that day for you.
Like the tingle of your hand when sympathy has squeezed it tight,
you're heart is holding on with all its might.
They just don't understand.
The need for a time machine.
When your heart demands what your mind knows to be impossible,
impassable grief sets in.
They just don't understand.
Loss is an unmapped journey, no chronology, no ETA.
Just finding your way.
They just don't understand.
So tell them not to try.
Just be an ear and a shoulder when you cry.
Written for a friend who was deeply affected by the death if her father. Years later she struggled to deal with her loss and the waning compassion of others. So in typical Lainey fashion... I wrote her a poem.
Lainey Jul 2020
Is it too soon
to miss your embrace?
To face the idea that having
You near is a place I’m mapping as a destination?
Is it too soon
To miss the sensation
Of your lips on my skin
Stirring within a feeling of hunger, elation?
Yet, whether too soon, comes the revelation that you are here and the fear is-
it doesn’t feel too soon.
Lainey Apr 2022
Were you brave?
Were you quaking?
Were you tough or were you faking?
Did you cry for your Mum’s embrace?
Or bite your cheek just to save face?
Did your letters euphemise?
Were they scribed with tear filled eyes?
Did you pray for silent nights?
Try to unsee grisly sights?
Did you think how life would be if you made it back across the sea?
Did you deliver a mate’s last note and hug his Mum with a lump in your throat?
Did you come home claiming glory or never voice your untold story?
Your sacrifice I can’t repay,
and so I honour on this day
a face that is unknown to me
who paid the price for my liberty.
Lainey May 2017
I once met a sad little troll.
Who liked to play a mentor role
Suggesting a guide
To one's suicide
But none paid attention at all.
I sometimes have to remind myself not to feed trolls. Ever.
Lainey May 2020
I’ll often hear a song that makes me think of times before.
There’s always faces burned into the memories recalled.
A head thrown back in laughter as we bounced so high; we flew!
That was the boy that I first kissed on the cheek
( he kissed my shoe)
We were on the trampoline and high was never high enough!
We screamed “I want my MTV”, it was truly epic stuff!
Later on when I partnered with a lycra’d dancing queen, we tore it up to Mel’n Kim, we were quite a solid team!
Our tay-tay-tay’s were second-to-none, Respectable the jam.
We were synchronised and synthesised, we were     fluoro, we were glam!
Later the next decade, the clubs were more the scene,but there always was a DJ, a request to be redeemed.
One young man with a strange nickname, no bigger Pearl Jam fan, could be found on a seat, tapping his feet and hollering “ Better man!”
Ofcourse the girls were always there, making the dance floor hot; and you sang the words to “You’re the One that I Want”, whether you knew them or not!
And no-one likes a mega-mix but play the one from Grease? You’ll even see a few Danny’s get up and join the beat.
These days the tunes are “retro”, but I sometimes play them still and the details might be fading but the feelings never will.
This is a reminiscence of growing up in Australia in the 80’s and 90’s to some favourite tunes
Lainey May 2017
Erase the anguish
I caused in my thoughtlessness
If only I could
Lainey Nov 2018
There was a young girl from Peru
Who wanted to write a haiku
She wrote a limerick that sounded quite slick
her failure became quite the coup!
Us
Lainey Aug 2021
Us
Life has been a rollercoaster
since the winter solstice passed.

Venturing through tribulations hoping fledgling love would last.

Seeking out each others’ dreams and stumbling forth at times
(but then)

Reaching for the outstretched hand that puts all faith in love again.

Learning about one another, lips oft locked and pulses swift.

Anchoring steadfast emotions once thought hopelessly adrift.

Quiet moments give contentment,  hands entwined, so warm and true.

Visions of the future me loving the future you.
Lainey May 2017
What became of me?
Stripped of my identity
Grief engulfed my soul
Where is the girl of old?
Was I simply existing
Inside a well formed shell?
No-one new my weaknesses,
No-one could tell.
What became of me?
Stripped of my identity
When you came to me
I was oh, so happy
You left me feeling hijacked
And my world was shattered through
Now I’ve lost my confidence
And lies became the truth.
What became of me?
Stripped of my identity.
I’ve become so sad
Thinking of what I could have had
I must learn to live with this
Yesterday’s girl non-existent
Now I have to get to know
The me I really ought to show
I’m living with a stranger in my head.
What became of me?
Now I see that I am free
Welcome in the new
And start to become truer to myself
I wrote this poem after the journey of losing a baby and enduring a period of deep depression and anxiety. Coming out the other side I realised I had never listened to my inner voice and was grateful that grief gave it a platform. It set me free. This poem perhaps resonates with anyone going through some form of transformation. Especially one of self acceptance.
Lainey Jul 2019
When I die,
I leave a legacy
For the earth
For kin
For my progeny.
A stone which has skimmed this infinite pond.
The ripples continue through life and beyond.
Lainey Jul 2020
The cool of Winter
Lays her shroud-like soothing balm
Upon heated souls.
When you live in a hot climate and the relief of Winter is so palpable!!
Lainey May 2017
Your ripple will pulse
Through times’ eternal waters
As if you still live.

— The End —