Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
As I slowly...
f
  a
     l
        l
asleep......
     I land a better place.
And lights.

She looked a little pale
In the yellow light.
The spots had been
Changed to white.
And when the white
Couldn't hide her pallor,
She asked the makeup
To put on a brighter colour.
They didn't ask if she had eaten.
They tried once,
Came back browbeaten.
"Diet only for ma'am"
Her abdomen perfectly satisfied;
Her soul craving for more.

And camera.

The perfect shot
Ended with a sweeping glance
Across the set
At her hero all decked
In the knightly splendour.
She was a princess whom
He saved from a dragon.
Little did anyone know
That after a day's worth
Of angry cameras panning
Her face and scrutinising her life,
She needed saving
Mostly from herself.

And action.*

This time, a thriller.
She walks down the corridor set
- Director's thumbs-up,
To hunt down the culprit
Who snatched her family.
She gives the perfect action sequence,
Complete with blood trickles.
"An award winner, surely."
She is done with the shoot
And heads home, her van.
Someone is waiting.
He had been waiting since she left
Him that summer.
Waiting for an excuse, at first.
Then acceptance.
Then forgiveness.
She gave it her best performance,
But could not fake the relief
When he approached with an apology
And a gun.
In my series of pieces based on social problems, this is a poem about the life an actress battling something.... something that you can percieve in whichever manner you want to.
Be-be-be-because, he starts,
stutters breaking words apart,
intoning what he’d overheard;
it’s painful listening, like darts

prying loose repeated words.
Naught’s amiss, we say, the birds
they laugh at us, ignored lampoons
and bullies’ taunts, how absurd.

He sits and watches his cartoon-
two mice who call a cat buffoon
I hate mieces to pieces!* shouts
Jinx the cat; it ends too soon.

Our son despises school, flat out.
We believe him, there’s no doubt,
But he’s a well-adjusted sprout
But he’s a well-adjusted sprout.
Utilizing the form in Robert Frost's Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. Rhyme scheme: AABA BBCB CCDC DDDD, written in iambic tetrameter.
Atlas is missing

The sky is falling

The world is crumbling

My heart is breaking



Rivers form from my eyes

Sniffles emanate from my nose

It won’t get better

Not much can help



A feeling unlike any previously experienced

How does one handle it?

When someone who you love dearly

Will soon be up above?



Someday I’ll be okay

But it is not this day

For now I lie in bed

And hate the waiting.
 Mar 2015 Baylie Allison
Jenna
When the war to end them all began
She was nine years old to the day
And that week, in the dark of night
the soldiers took her father away.

There was no way he could stay he said
He had to go and fight
So he could make a far off country safe again
And make everything alright.

They looked up at the stars above
And he made a promise to ease the pain.
He’d gaze upon the moon in the sky
And know his little girl saw the same.

When the train departed that evening
To her mother’s arm she clung
And while she listened to the train rattle away
The moon brightened where it hung.

The ink ran from his letters
That they received once week.
The words he wrote made him sound brave
but really he felt meek.

When the war to end them all intensified
She was ten years old to the day
And that week, in the dark of night
The Grim Reaper took her father away.
 Mar 2015 Baylie Allison
Jenna
Rocking in the rocking chair
passing time
going nowhere

idle dreams wait
in the corners of my mind
collecting dust
collecting remnants I have lost

rocking in the rocking chair
forward, backward
going nowhere

— The End —