You will not see my shadow pass
the gate of mournings eerie dark
Nor hear my voice among the reeds
that grow above my silenced heart
No fondest kiss to furrowed brow
to quell the torment of your making
for you have left me here alone
to sleep the sleep that knows no waking.
The last line was pilfered from a Victorian grave stone. It was too beautiful to leave there.
There is a place I keep for me
where others cannot go
It's hidden deep within my heart
behind a soulless glow.
The skies are always cornflower blue
while all the trees in bloom
drop blossoms pink as candy floss
to chase away the gloom.
Beneath the sea of stolen cares
a darkness seethes and roars
a warning cry to he who dares
set foot upon it's shores.
There is a place I keep for me
a darkness deep and true
I keep it safe and hide it well
Beneath it's pretty view.
the world turns quickly;
you and i are on different highways,
you are meant to be on silver screens
and i am meant to live normally, never to be seen
i could keep falling for your eyes,
i could keep admiring your pretty soul,
but this is the truth,
hidden in between the lines of my longing:
*i can't love you forever
but i'm going to love you for a long time
I get lost in your kiss
Yet feel at home on your **lips
Today I threw away the third letter I wrote to you.
I always write them under the moonlight,
under the impression that
it might somehow make every word sacred,
every sentence holy.
I write them with shaky hands and teary eyes.
I write them for me,
I write them for you.
But when morning comes,
I taste regret on my tongue
and each letter feels poisonous.
So I rip them apart
with the same fierceness I tore myself away from you.
I don't know how to get it
when I'm not the only one that had been hurting.
I still hang on to the unfinished.
I only wish to let go.
Oh what joy.
A little boy.
Jacob so happy.
A cheerful chappie.
To my great nephew, born September 2014. SO CHEERFUL!!!
How do we mend wavering pedestals...
When the ground beneath is parched dry.
Stemming off loose foundations that time had weathered wry.
How do we mend broken gazes...
When watchful eyes which were meant to see,
are blinded by the onslaught of half-truths and fallacy.
How do we mend burnt bridges...
When we never look back to trace heavy missteps.
We fail to admit to consciously springing obvious traps.
How do I mend ailing hearts...*
When familiar corridors seem warped to a bend.
When my own is struggling and perpetually on the mend.
Close the curtains
On this last act
Call home the trains
Bring me back
Time has eloped
With my dreams
I've learnt to cope
On meagre means
Preach the truth
To he who hears
Dig up the roots
Bury your cares
Hide my letters
In an open box
Untie my fetters
Use all the locks
Life is a paradox
Running to its death
Watching all the clocks
To be the last one on earth.
I like the fact that I can have rhyme and beat even when I'm not exactly sure what I mean :-)
'til our souls embark on twilight's dreaming
to dance with the cunning dark.
Love is bereft ---abandoned by the heartless
cry not, nor lament--none is around to listen
sorrows of the broken heart
are never assuaged by reason
..ah ! when would love
its splendour once more glisten?
my pillow I #bite this sombre night
in tears--I never knew love was such a prison.
* inspired by Free Bird's LATE NIGHT CONFESSIONS--she is a fellow-writer in HP. # This poem is meant to be written by a young girl in distress.