Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
10.9k · Sep 2018
THE MIRROR MAN SEES
eleanor prince Sep 2018
(contains references to sensitive issues)

She’s just a babe
he’s only two
of youth refill
they’re broken in

but leave no mark  
so they're unspoiled
for clients booked
it's all arranged

no tracks you'll leave
their brain's not through
not 'til they’re three
so chill out dame

the program works
divert impel
‘'you crazy sh-t
here take this pill’

nobody hears
if told some tales
but they won't talk
their lips are sealed

from dot they’re trained
they’re here for us
don't have to guess
‘you talk, you die!’

so pay the fee
their price is high
and bring this dog
they’ll do it all

and shouldn’t you
take all you're due
you work real hard-
on nectar sup
-
Stop! Not so quick
for veils can lift
and imprints made
don’t ever die

archival facts
reveal themselves
when day arrives
you’ll face the Judge

and when you breach
a petal new
it injures both
and gear stick shifts

you've soiled life's bed
with squalid stains
now own the Sh-t
says mirror man







  


             
From time to time an instance comes to light involving well-organized abuse at an almost unimaginable level.  Children from a very young age are trained to provide all manner of ****** services to meet the demands of deviant and sadistic clients.  Contrary to what people may think, this happens not just in so-called 'third-world countries,' but in more prosperous lands too.  

Even where there is significant corroboration for the veracity of such accounts, survivors can suffer the further indignity of not being believed.  There is some movement and improvement in knowledge but more needs to be acknowledged and understood, not only by colleagues and other professionals providing care, but society at large.  

It all makes one ponder what leads a perpetrator to act this way.  Whilst it helps to understand some act out trauma they themselves received, it is unacceptable behaviour, is still a criminal offence - and it hurts others.   We all have choice to decide ahead what we would do if offered an easy way to cross that line.  Decency requires we resolve to remember who we want to be in essence and retain this reality check:  how would I feel if this was my wife, my child?   Refuse to abuse another.  

Some boundaries simply should never be breached, even if one is promised immunity from repercussions, e.g. told 'the child won't remember – it won’t hurt them.'   Many victims do remember and either way, such incursions rob them of a normal life, something many take for granted.  The truth is they are massively, negatively affected on one level or another, often in multiple ways, at whatever age such incursions take place.  

The reality is that transgressing on another's boundaries on any level not only harms the recipient but also those violating others.  It alters and destroys something in the offender, immediately recognizable or not, and by extension the wider community is affected.  

On looking in the mirror an offender may see at best a deluded half-life.  As my poem concludes, who would want to be meeting that inner witness to their corrupt and heartless behaviour, their real character looking back at them through the 'man* in the mirror...'

*(either gender can offend - some women sexually abuse too.  When a perpetrator takes a good look in the mirror of reality, they may well find themselves  confronted with the enormity of what they have done, and who they have become)
10.8k · Jul 2018
blind spot
eleanor prince Jul 2018
mementos
richly held
hidden in
fractured chest

big people
shifting boxes
heavy
light

silenced
a child's fissure
clasping favourite shell
close

swift salvage
in tight world
rescue from
gaping hole




#family #disruption #moving #treasures #mementos #lost #ignored
For a very young child, moving house can be incredibly bewildering, disruptive, even traumatizing, especially when moving countries tends to mean belongings need to be severely curtailed.  Few remember their own childhood attachments, closely held treasures, even if perceived by harried adults as inconsequential as a bag of broken seashells.  Would a little more listening and empathic explanation with kindness ease things well at such transition times
8.9k · Apr 2018
what is a poet
eleanor prince Apr 2018
what is a poet
but a stymied wind
stamping the same soil
seen through polished lens

firing the bugle sound
to reach across some
distant mountain pass
not echo the same

ignite fire
stand strong
find north
refresh

for old paths yield
grey packages
more stale
subterfuge

but honed
solidity is found
in structures
built sound

a new song of old notes
rearranged to yield
perspective
deep
at times we all need to see what is to be kept and what will be discarded, to reinvent ourselves, our lives, whilst retaining solid ground
5.8k · Aug 2018
A Stilted Blindness
eleanor prince Aug 2018
once more
layers of casing
are torn

papers culled
windows gleam
sheets smile

the cost is high
if not see
when to stop

can I find north
after all
I’d asked

so life’s paths
once veiled
in yesterday's grime

dispatched
to the winds
reveal

another vision
refreshing as
spring rain

seeking every fissure
quietly lodged boarders
not paying rent

evicted
as another corner
begs mastery

along with
a neater place
it dawns on me

atrophy
is the order
of things

vacate for a few
short paces
and face

it all again
wrenching me
from the lulling

status quo
of my stilted
blindness
sometimes when we ask for greater clarity in life, to be able to 'see' things at a more profound breadth and depth, a cleansing of sorts emerges on every level
4.0k · Dec 2018
'Xmas tales
eleanor prince Dec 2018
I see the boy's eyes
puckered
destroyed
he can't grasp
how is this
so?

on balance
tales and
lies do
for the spark of
a yarn's
pull?

or are the child's
ties torn
the parent's
solidity broken
his rock
in a world

shaken?
an uncomfortable reality...
2.9k · Oct 2023
Betrayed
eleanor prince Oct 2023
Bunkered--
that's how they are now...
my soft places once shared with you
sequestered, behind barricades of knowing.

When you sold me out, did you think I would not find out?
My spirit wails at what is lost, the wall between us...
Fire, revenge? Nay, a knife will not assail you--
I refuse to be like you.
2.6k · Aug 2018
take charge
eleanor prince Aug 2018
windmills turn
slicing days
as prescribed

moving water
as they do
set troughs

can't complain
there is no point
cycles set in place

grids buckle
like we're
trapped

live chequered lives
without ourselves
on deck

though paths
with every step
trod blind

at close of day
did we not take
that road

for steering wheel
this hand
grabbed

let's harness Self
remove the screen
and see

in this precinct
or yonder place
we've opted for

we took a route
with outcome
flawed
so often it seems easier to remain the victim - we aren't really seeing we are ultimately responsible for what we think and do
2.2k · Dec 2020
~ is that you ~
eleanor prince Dec 2020
in the wisps of mist
stroking the curves
of a sleeping mountain
I hear a call

husky tones
siphoned off
by a cold wind
mocking

I see you still
as a filtered moon
drifts over my lashes
quivering

like the scent of you
as we dance
skin to skin
close
2.1k · Jan 2019
Primordial Roar
eleanor prince Jan 2019
when scenes
pixelate
halt in a cell's
frozen scream
slow-motion rage
cloaks grief

do earth's plates
shift at all
respond to pain
torn out of shape
in savage roar

no

we matter to ourselves
on some days
while he or she
reads the code
to check the tides

oscillate in
crawl space
hidden
in island habitat's
darkened cave

we try to breathe
solitary venture
as days run out
leaving dust
and bones

in silence

as a new
dawn
rises
when depression's dark dirge speaks... may we find a way to wait for a new dawn
eleanor prince Feb 2019
so if we
stand still
smell the heat

of an enemy's
bullet through our veins
for once

court outcome
of supplanting views
imbibing another's sweat

casuist's bile
scrawled on prison walls
of savaged confines

they salute
their spiel
with the same

toxic hold
as we concoct
world views

venomous elixir
polymorphous maze
shadow of a sphinx

looms clearer
as steps leading
to torn pages

of feted book
uncover dichotomy
of a self split

so that shooting a child
of shunned genes
amounts to nil

for in but a blink
his uniform
arrives home

to stroke the
golden locks
of his only daughter

playing Chopin
Please see subsequent post 'dynamics of genocide'
penned as a bit of free expression,
more a rant than a poem,
but can provide some
background information to this poem.
I very much appreciate your thoughts and feedback
on either or both posts.
Big thanks...
2.0k · Jun 2018
stir without words
eleanor prince Jun 2018
all monsters and adrenaline now
mad rush to inhale speed
lest life not deliver

yet in bygone days
when dames beguiled
soft curls and porcelain skin

or polished ebony
an ancient fire stirred
in embers aflame

men knew chivalry
their gender sure
dames held a different power

liquid eyes and innocent air
where no words were needed
to touch dreams' *******
Inspired by Christopher Victor Russon's nostalgic poem 'Those Talking Pictures'
1.9k · Apr 2022
hidden crimes
eleanor prince Apr 2022
When I was born - mother collapsed
then she got well - never came back

Daddy was gone - most of the time
when he returned - we were attacked

Sister was told: "Feed her or else!
Mix it up right.  Keep your trap shut!"

Daddy got poor - sold me for food
babies were best - earned the best cut

As I grew more - daddy was rich
hooked on the sale - power it brought

I wanted out - pleaded my cause,
he forced me down - never was caught
1.8k · Jul 2016
- when time sighs -
eleanor prince Jul 2016
child moans mute
plight pools
brewed
strife

grey days dank
split robes
seared
****

time plots sighs
mourns lost
trust
life

dreams weep joy
stroke scenes
once
viewed
https://www.flickr.com/photos/widcat/5353920378/in/faves-51029280@N05/
1.8k · Nov 2023
futility of war
eleanor prince Nov 2023
Run... run while you can
before the envelopment entraps you
encapsulating escape with leaden clouds
skies darkened by searing missiles
unburdening caches waiting
for the stirring of conflict
so easy to hijack
as hatred
screams
loudest
drowning
out the pleas
of nursing mothers
as children's faces fend off
old feuds and avarice of arms dealers
sparked by grief over the slaughter and scarring of children and families due to avarice of war
1.7k · Dec 2022
Travesty in the Night
eleanor prince Dec 2022
I'm sorting pictures in the archive box.
Shelved for that day that I kept putting off.
The job's to cull and have less stuff to store,
but spiders lurk and snakes are sliding out.

The photo shouts in raw dismemberment.
A howling wind, the prowl of packs of wolves.

I stare at trembling splinters held so close.
Her daytime Self looks like a sweet old dame.

I hear again the creak as floorboards pause;
my breath is held lest I miss steps that halt,
outside my door in seconds held at bay.

I see the handle
   slowly...
      lower..
         down.

Her strides are swift and next, her perfume's here.
With broken breath, she yields to clawing drives
and throws my bedclothes off like spider webs.

My youth she steals as night groans on and on.
For merchants took her bloom on stormy sea.

I clutch my knife and picture stabbing her;
But I've no strength to do the deed - I'm five.

Her mouth is pushed on lips zipped up and cold.
The bed is torn in tangled bits of knots.
My legs are jammed together- ripped apart.
My pillow's wet as aunty takes her cut.
1.6k · Sep 2017
with veil drawn
eleanor prince Sep 2017
do you think
cloaks of normalcy

societal smiles
wash away reality -

that screens pulled close
pious veils drawn

means all is well -

that children next door
from 'respectable' homes

aren't used like so much spoil
displayed with polish

to the highest bidder -

what tales do you keep
to sleep at night

in perfumed air -

'it's far away
some hapless child

not where I drive
with tinted glass

they're lower class
don't know the Lord

mere runts down town
where father drinks

can't pay their rent
make decent wage

so sell the kid
for sordid nights -

- n - o -
it happens

to tender buds
in wealthy
suites

and poorer shacks
in any
place

and every age
from dot to
grown

they stay unseen
stare at their
sums

are ***** this night
sob off to
sleep

as mother too
walks right on
by

deaf to the screams
he wants his
due

so he will take
her brother
too

'now be a man'
says worm to
prince

he lies to all
most to his
face

and no one sees
and no one
hears

the silent screams
with veil drawn
close

they look askance
and walk on
by
I welcome responses to this poem which is aimed at revealing the culture of silence in 'polite society' - this outpouring of outrage at abuse has been boiling for some time but this poem was sparked off in response to PaganPaul's important and raw poems on this topic  
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1923972/the-judderwitch/
1.6k · Mar 2023
Checkmate!
eleanor prince Mar 2023
His crown sat bent -
    and it looked quite odd
          on the shady side
          of his sparse baldhead

His ego reigned
     while his daughter sweet
          could not make the move
          to get past her dread

His aproned slave
     dared not make a sound
          to defy the rules
          'til he made her dead

His cranium
     suffered sudden blows
          when an illness struck
          with the news ahead

He spat in barks
     telling all who came
          they should breathe their last
          and he died instead
a bitter-sweet ditty like a child's play poem
1.6k · Oct 2016
a bitter wind
eleanor prince Oct 2016
bent man's coat
torn

crisp shirts
board table
graced

now
grey

winds pummel
forgotten frame

crouched
low

cardboard sheet
sodden

wan dawn
breaks

society's stare
averts

empties past
hurried

imagines
immunity

from life's
bitter cold
this pic is something of what this poem portrays...
https://www.flickr.com/photos/124085518@N08/16609308305/in/faves-51029280@N05/
1.5k · Jun 2017
WHILE HE STILL BREATHES
eleanor prince Jun 2017
who will run
gauntlet fierce
scythe held high
through thicket thorns
emerge alive
      stay sane      

hours fuse to
decades spent
begging bird song
soothe dispel
savage sordid
scenes

crows confer
callous cold
steal each fractured day
as suffocation
stymies step
yet he walks free

not one escaped
each tender bud
torn in turns
as all around
walked on by
blind to ****

are all afraid
mesmerized
by podium power
pious privilege
feigned
masking sleight of hand

will someone stand
despite the odds
counter hallowed hall
covert thugs' threats
of slow death
if we tell

who can dare
scarred mirror asks
shatter code hushed
defy hypnotic trance
risk life and limb
to speak

or has their curse
rendered lame
those not killed
left to bleed
alone in shadows'
listless lanes

eyes stare
probe, confront
in mirror fogged
I wipe them dry
distraught no flame remains
I can sustain

to fuel the fight
and stagger on
through forest blaze
of justice failed
as cries of children
sear the night

while
he
still
breathes
I would appreciate frank feedback, please.  How do you feel when you read this - is the meaning clear? Thank you
1.4k · Sep 2018
caught out
eleanor prince Sep 2018
it's weird the things that
pester your mind
just when you thought you had
it all sewn up...

you tell yourself you are this
generous and big-hearted person
well maybe
on some days

and then you remember the kid
in fifth grade that rushed up
asked for a five pence loan
was all I had left

but I did it, didn't I
believed her
that she'd pay it back
in the morrow for sure

but she wasn't at school
the next or the next
and I'm still inanely
mad at her

and at myself
as she knew
she was moving
the very next day

and man was I
miffed
but you know I
couldn't give tuppence

about the coin -no
'twas the principle
of the matter
wasn't it

she knew she
would never
pay it back
so why lie

I would have given her
way more
had I known it was
her last day
Just an off the cuff poem. Inspiration came from reading a poem just now by Natalie:  https://hellopoetry.com/nataliestilescarmona/
where I left this comment:  You are indeed worthy of being called a muse of sorts for my head is rattling around with all kinds of possibilities - but the little ping pong ***** haven't formulated into much in the way of sentences yet - but it is coming - yes, I think something is emerging. Bit longer than I expected so will post it as a poem and give you the credit for the inspiration - lol
1.4k · Dec 2018
u n t i e d ~ ~ ~
eleanor prince Dec 2018
look not beneath
scars
lest night scowl

for history
screamed
breaches unbidden

rivulets red streamed
as child song
failed

tendrils grasped
by savage gusts
discarded

to rise as scented spring
warmth
loosens coverlets

stirred
untied
waiting
would a tender, respectful approach let love bloom anew
1.3k · Mar 2023
The Promise
eleanor prince Mar 2023
People -
so many bodies…

Some seem to engage
for but a moment, of course,
before bustling past on hot sidewalks,
with varied smidgens of mind and heart;
collections of vibrating chemistry,
moving to specific oscillations.

How to make sense of it all?
We can be drawn to warm embers,
avoid icy slaps on our cheeks reddening.
Grey shapes pass us by, hardly registering a blip -
are they nothing more than the flotsam of flailing limbs
echoing our own caustic needs and wants pending?

Yet we all want much the same things in life:
to be noticed with kindness by the benign,
safe from the razor-blade elements,
find our slot in life that counts,
and leave something good
for posterity, if it comes…

For dots of humanity
of which we are a part,
in some fashion or another,
keep floating giddily past us…
Are they up for what will come
with stoic resistance, or neglect?

Do they expect some dystopia
and the terrors of a dark night?
Ask the fretting little children,
who can’t sleep for their fright!
They too need a river of peace ~
the Promise to be fulfilled

made by One wiser
than all else…

~~
ponderings in moments of existential fatigue...
Isaiah 48:18 is the promised peace referred to, echoed by John 16:33. We need never feel too alone for arguably the greatest man who ever lived, knew how to ascend above all and 'conquer' and freely wishes to give us this peace.
1.3k · Feb 2019
TRAINED TO STRIKE
eleanor prince Feb 2019
ever standing
body lithe, strong
trained to strike

too dashing for peeling paint
old verandas
slow-paced hamlet

waiting in country town
place to whizz past
road to tourist hub

how does his tale read
did he pay
for assault

struck the frame
holder of *****
spawning breath

cold fury
for scenes of his mother
thrown down

stain his every stance
grabbing mail swiftly
ahead of arrival

panther muscles
no more the crouching lad
shuddering

her screams
bounce off walls
as mother's body slumps

broken bottle scars
left to clean up the mess
as he leaves for school
forage into
fictional possibility -
penned
with deep respect
for David
of village
post office
1.2k · Aug 2017
~ eternity's moment ~
eleanor prince Aug 2017
pool swirling deep
surface still
beguiling

glimpsed from afar
caution warned
but you came

aeons spoke true
our hands shook
you held on

time stood still
even breath
paused

seconds stretched
vibrating
eternity

stunned we stood
uncaring for talk
riveted

others filled space
with putty chatter
while we stayed locked

silent cerebral synergy
magnetic dance
exceeding

all thought
numbed in
mindless joy
chance meeting with someone memorable
1.2k · Jun 2023
aftermath
eleanor prince Jun 2023
some days I grieve alone
as sunshine sounds obscene
no help or match for rain
not caring where it goes
to leave a chequered scene

the clouds hide their intent
build-up to manic heights
and storms attack our land
to savage crumbling shores
and saturate the nights

I stare in broken starts
I've seen too much that stings
with stoic eyes some pray
and mop the mud-soaked rooms
we wish our homes had wings
1.2k · Jun 2016
- paper ties -
eleanor prince Jun 2016
her smile
lingers caught
on restless breeze
autumn leaves scuttle
rejected dreams
once courted
hover

her hair
woven silk
dewdrops fine
in misted web
bring together
limbs long held
apart

they know
what rivers ran
streams of hope
rapid raw desire
hearts drowned
beating twin tunes
singing as
one

now just a scent
on yonder cloud
mocking cruel
as yet another
winter's
wan
morn
breaks
This poem was penned in response to a deeply moving art-house movie called 'Night Train to Lisbon.' While the slant I take here is not particularly along the story line, I feel it encapsulates the essence of some of what this stunning film engenders within me. Hope you enjoy my first post here
1.2k · Dec 2016
oxygen thief
eleanor prince Dec 2016
it was hard not to notice
her suffocating stance
eliminating life
from breath

stark contrasts clashed
chemist stench rife
clawed nails fought
with burnt electric hair

face caked with
false promise
rude lips bled
in twisted shapes

mismatched words
shot giddily from
handgun mind
long since spent

guests' amused disdain
stilled at sharp madness
flashes of veined sclera
screamed woe

signatures etched on
death warrants
coffin lids
clamped shut

wild assertions
rank religious fervor
vomited about
a hushed room

charity's stretched
compassion quit
in rush to regain
a summer's peace

efforts to impress
stabbed coarsely
dense air strangled
rational thought

guilty images beset
tortured space
noxious noise
begging revolt

yet collective dagger
falls aside mute
lest honour
too is lost

as raucous gasps fail
to impress
with anything
less than

dreams
of a quiet book
easily wooed
by a silent stream
musings of a fictional, failed 'blind date' sparked by an odious social experience - but the writing style itself inspired by NB's fascinating poetry
1.1k · Jun 2016
- birth of a poem -
eleanor prince Jun 2016
a nuance
enigma
a moment in time

a brooding
depression
dichotomy raw

a stirring
defiance
a wrath's crashing storm

a protest
in outcry
a need to transform
https://www.flickr.com/photos/71121143@N02/11842720453/in/photolist-j3v3cp-dyhBwP-ej6N39-eKrVyU-gJnVnw-9YKgZD-oGg51c-dxYumx-dFobPo-bLTCoR-kEQLeu-iYrGcC-aH8kuT-ekzscW-4aSmyQ-qh6AEp-jUi8ee-r3zBoh-cGsgSC-h7VWUW-jGD78t-q7ifDh-amhrQv-gGcDmX-hHQRnF-dCNR2Y-a2cCk
1.1k · Jul 2016
- river trial -
eleanor prince Jul 2016
two men sat fishing
by a village stream
one short
one tall...

Short Man:
I think he's wrong
to chat to kids
leave them alone
there is no need

Tall Man:
What have you there
your venal mind
has lost the plot
there is no deed

Short Man:
No man has kids
who like him so
it must be bad
let's cast our vote

Tall Man:
No issue here
we're always there
he's not alone
I'll have you note

Short Man:
They tell him stuff
we never hear
why don't they talk
to us instead

Tall Man:
You're busy mate
you shut them up
and all you do
is keep them fed

Short Man:
It's just not done
the kids all flock
they see a saint
could be a threat

Tall Man:
The Lord himself
had kids mill 'round
for he was good
no need to fret

Short Man:
It's true I s'pose
that's different though
a Son of God
can do it right

Tall Man:
So all of us
imperfect souls
can only lose
the moral fight?

Short Man:
Of course it's not
as clear as that
just can't abide
if kids get hurt

Tall Man:
Well that's okay
but blacken not
a decent man
by throwing dirt

Short Man:
I'll flog him to
an inch of life
if we would hear
he's crossed the line

Tall Man:
You know I loathe
all deviant ways
be careful though
for he's benign

Short Man:
I hear you man
my thoughts run wild
we mustn't see
it black and white

Tall Man:
Imagine if
he's told this sh-t
to slander hear
how would that bite

Short Man:
You have a point
not all are bad
some have more time
than most townsfolk

Tall Man:
I've heard he steers
them to the good
he's simply not
a usual bloke

Short Man:
You're right my friend
you've pulled me up
an honest man
we should defend
you may enjoy seeing the pic I selected from Flickr for this:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/samkennedy1/7795937594/in/faves-51029280@N05/
1.1k · Dec 2016
Largo's Last Embrace
eleanor prince Dec 2016
mid-night flower
dare to bloom
unfurl as
moon
wanes

petals soft
velvet smiles
soothe these
waters
deep

echoes rich
Handel's dirge
breathe
your last
embrace
1.1k · Feb 2017
ode to a loner
eleanor prince Feb 2017
room's awhirl
sounds collide
banal speech
mirth escapes
clustered holes

stand alone
children pass
chasing chums
they relate
playing roles

noises clash
confined space
worlds apart
I'm alone
flee outside

under trees
hide behind
thumping hall
swirling beat
amplified

close my eyes
dare to breathe
sense some peace
feel her smile
in mind's eye  

sweet relief
friend I know
welcome to
solitude's
lullaby
eleanor prince Feb 2021
you plan to trap
to take a cut-
a ripening peach
with sugar bait?

you soil yourself
remove all sense
when all you have
you desecrate

her body sees, her body sees

'I'll take it now
she's just the size
to make me big
bend over chick

for she won't see
to mists she'll flee
I'll do a trick
with my joystick'

her inside sees, her inside sees

it's not all past
in spurting spray
a laughing squirt
bull at a gate

to steal a bud
the harshest crime
to rob a child
her life dictate

her body tells, her body tells

for it is seen
and registered
it's catalogued
in Judge's file

the breakage raw
her broken selves
you callous brute
are facing trial

and all can see
as you do now
the lies you told
you *******
Abusers tell one another:
''It's such good luck
she's only 6
for after 8
it's much too late?!"

Of course, it may be a boy, and the abuser may be female. 

Whatever the case, it helps to know their thinking so
we can better protect our kids

©https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/848436017300514805/
1.0k · Feb 2021
falling leaves
eleanor prince Feb 2021
he walked away
with the sting
of youth
burning
a halo

noted
by those
who know
that the passage
of the years as time
makes its relentless march
is simply because we got up
and retired to bed as he did
every day of every year

and one day daffodils
were covered by falling
leaves with mulled wine
in mourning as frost waits
knowing it will soon succeed
in bringing lasting shadows to
all living breathing creatures
including the man who
saunters on by
980 · Oct 2018
I see you still
eleanor prince Oct 2018
I see us now
not sounding depth
of oceans found
we sailed on
seeking sun

with osprey wings
we'd soar on high
above the dross
all left
behind

Remember how
we laughed and cried
no day expired
without
a hug

but waves delete
all fire shared
aboard life's deck
washed memories
overboard

I turn the page
old letters worn
once filled with
kisses sweet
now still

in ears stopped up
they speak and roar
for years have
passed and youth
has fled

no passage found
I'm left afloat
my breath is hoarse
I whisper pained:

I see you still
Coming across some old letters and cards these thoughts emerged...
952 · Jan 2018
- tales we tell ourselves -
eleanor prince Jan 2018
eye of storm
feels good
inanely safe

cloak of unreality
supplanting sense
as trap shuts

butterfly hovers
gently
in silken web

rests stupidly
charmed
while harm beckons

illusions numb
cerebral
space

battle weary
instincts spent
on long haul

gusts of
warning winds
ignored

as incongruent
aberrations
unworthy of note

but sword will drop
mayhem eclipse
former state

past suspension
truncated
exposed

as raw reality
severs dreams
barnacled

to beguiling
specious
notion
beware the weariness that eclipses knowing... and reason... it will exact a price
942 · Dec 2018
reprieve
eleanor prince Dec 2018
blooms sweet
rains savage
decayed mush
remnants

earth's alarm
cycles hard
hands damage
unhinged

bind thugs
stifle stench
embrace Maker
reprieve
experimenting with succinct verses... constructive critiques welcome!
927 · Jan 2019
Paradise Lost?
eleanor prince Jan 2019
no ripple
on glistening pond
bucolic greenery
greeted sweet mornings
like apple muffins
dusted with
spice

pathways through
rainforest's half-light
hushed cathedral
birdsong rang true
retrieved to senses
a lilting lullaby's melodic
notes

then machinery
of life's happenchance
seared through undergrowth
chainsaw's presence
halted paradise
lacerations on earth's
lungs

reverberations hit
tremors appear
reach beyond
borders coddled close
as things find a new
place to roost and
grow
sometimes things change perhaps somewhat unexpectedly -  a relationship experiences a different phase, needs are not being met the way they once were, someone close to us moves far away, a sweet friendship can suffer an unanticipated wound - whatever the loss, there can be regret and it can feel like much of value has been lost, yet at times it can lead to certain insights and more...
914 · Dec 2016
- - - fly free - - -
eleanor prince Dec 2016
as one stage empties
slow shuffle exit
another curtain will
rise

waiting for that spark
an instant in time
silent explosion
within

stylus on rock face
outline of past forms
a mountain's sudden
call

as eagle marks
still moments
above a darkened
gorge

brooding dawn
fights clouds'
urgent
cries

and man's spirit
lifts high and
at last
flies

free

- - - - - -
Sometimes poems don't easily flow for a time.  Perhaps we are trying to have each one just perfect.  This off the cuff poem arose spontaneously and is dedicated to Kamala  from poetfreak.com (ending 31/12/16) who has wonderful talent.  This is my welcome poem to him if he finds his way here:
Take care - you are a brilliant poet - it sits there waiting for that spark - a turn of the head, a cloud formation, a child's sudden laugh on distant wind, the roar of a river...
an eagle soaring steady, ominous, yet beautiful - as a sullen dawn over a brooding sea - ah! I feel it stir in you - it is there...
for you are a true poet, my friend, so let it fly free...!
I found this pic on Flickr to accompany this post - it's worth viewing: https://www.flickr.com/photos/visbeek/4079078904/in/photolist-GGYAEj-zPqzkH-C6vKbQ-tUkRHr-tBTyRn-tBTyre-u5ffKz-sXjLhh-7dsm3C-nNmfSZ-5XmwwH-nJcEhR-GRkyQQ-rAKyje-6hfKbn-9RWR7c-aZugaB-cYE9bm-96nk4X-5TS2fP-tUtcM6-s51CHE-tpkJAo-tvC4gD-uvYmuC-xQijbn-tLgSWL-syvu
913 · Jun 2016
- all it takes -
eleanor prince Jun 2016
seas receive
thousand cries

stifled sighs
broken ties

silent tales
held within

cache sounds
unheard din

breakers come
to incite

endless rite
pointless fight

tall he stands
resolute

rocklike form
absolute

striding on
ancient seas

takes her due
gradually

steals his hold
stealthily

firmament
casts its spell

undermines
with each swell

strategy
crystallized

her control's
minimized

empyreal
victory

behemoth
must agree

all it takes
is a move

change his stance
he can prove

though the seas
snarl and pout

in the end
there's no doubt

while there's worth
status tall

at some point
we may fall

think ahead
where we be

lest we're trapped
in some sea
this is the Flickr pic I selected to go with this poem: https://www.flickr.com/photos/sverrir_thor/15866624195/in/faves-51029280@N05/
875 · Oct 2016
on gust of a cursed wind
eleanor prince Oct 2016
stellar sketch
on waste paper

unfortunate, he said
and left without a glance

snobbery stiffened
his regal back *****

what number
I mused

adept at
brisk dispersal

another spent
autumn leaf

from wrong part
of town

crushed underfoot
with swift disdain

familiar pain screams
on mute screen

tears leave as rage
breaks grief's hold

walls bleak
accuse

sunken eyes pierce
where hope once sang

free in life's
sun-kissed  field

before awareness
smirked crude

shaking illusion's
ephemeral sigh
For some reason catching sight of this pic elicited this poem...
https://www.flickr.com/photos/damianward/30230313085/in/faves-51029280@N05/
856 · Feb 2017
silent treatment
eleanor prince Feb 2017
girl -
your silence tears upon me
a savage beast mute
for in your intermittent groans on gusts of ire
masked in murmurs curt
seepage coarse, acrid leaks

girl -
tell me straight, hide not my fate
your real intent upon these clouds benign
for when the heat of marinated fury bursts
erupts one day on bowed head sad
intent on living life in peace

girl -
will it ruin times of joy we knew
bursts of copper, gold and red
no separation there but alchemy of spirits free
so what is it that ails you friend
arms folded eyes aflame in chilled blind rage
836 · Dec 2016
s t e a l t h
eleanor prince Dec 2016
swirling wistful
whispering ridge

speaks to my blood
ancient refrain

stroking stealthy
passionate reach

leaves no freedom
coveting all

onwards stalking
urgently quiet

strikes when poise
drifts

apart
https://www.flickr.com/photos/92628403@N07/27310942001/in/faves-51029280@N05/
830 · Aug 2017
m-i-s-f-i-r-e
eleanor prince Aug 2017
stunned inertia
stills response
awareness breaks
as blind's ******

tinkling laughter
clashing chimes
lose their charm
discordant rasp

no substance here
an errant wind
furnace blast
frigid stare

lying eyes
steering chance
to suckle dry
life's bequest

bravery's scorned
why should she care
to keep in tune
seek truthfulness

meet honesty's gaze
authentic ways
on route to her
extinction
dismay on realizing dearth of similar values in one been engaging with closely
807 · Oct 2018
One perfect muse?
eleanor prince Oct 2018
Where are you
my one perfect muse
the shape of contours
conjured in dreams
held since bud was formed

Where do you rest
waiting
like me for that
eclipse
of moments

Where?!

Are you even
embraced in capsule
light
weightless
located in One

Or are you diverse
scattered like seed on
winds unknown
beyond my reach
as I wonder

Where?!

Is it pointless to conceive
of your fullness
knowing deep down
you exist only in
poetry of disenchanted idealists

Newly formed realists
whose life work
lies smashed
pointless journey
reaching reality

Or will I glimpse you
in passing crowd
ephemeral but
sharply cut out
from all the rest?
(If not 'muse' then boss, friend, partner... )
770 · Jul 2020
burns in cold blood
eleanor prince Jul 2020
ankles held firm
his shoulders lurch

branches loom ahead
I duck in ashen forests

'Do all Uncle says,'
Mother spat again

face is stinging
air's thinning

I'm milk-bag
sleepy

he yanks
me higher

~~~~

'Here we are
my sweet!'

the stiff door
creaks slowly

his treacle tone
mocks the dust

dead moths stir
in alarm

~~~~

I'm flung
down

mat's
hard

he's
in me

I die

again

they all do it

~~~~

I disappear to
holes in the wall

they watch in silence
and let me stay on

cold-blooded fire
burns red

do I live
numb

I pray

~~~~

staring out the
window I see

sifted icing
sugar peaks

my Mountain
smiles strong

sparkling clean
in warming sun

Whoever made it
is my Friend

a gift

for life

~~~~

it's my
birthday

I'm two

~~~~~~~

#child #innocence #destroyed #alone #mountain #clean #strong
for some, betrayal starts early... and the body remembers... as does the mind
762 · Jul 2016
p -l -u -n -d -e -r -e -d
eleanor prince Jul 2016
I am he
I am she
I am child
I’m your voice

I have fear
I have pain
I have love
Is there choice

Ravaged crop
Destitute
Plundered field
How I weep

For the times
I once knew
Long ago
Babe in arms

Succour sweet
Lullabies
Soothed my soul
How it calms

Within months
It had gone
He appeared
Hatred spread

Body torn
Savaged soul
Night had come
Life had fled
http://www.flickr.com/photos/callocephalon/3488339058/
757 · Jun 2016
r-e-l-e-a-s-e
eleanor prince Jun 2016
years absorb days
waiting for life's word -
moment when
creaking doors open
providing peace

days follow night
dank dismissive disdain
lone refrain soaking
soft dark soil
inviting release

was it in snow's soft folds
stark charcoal sketches
scratching sheets of white

or garish cacophony of
rude spring's play

maybe summer's
hedonistic obsession
bursting searing blight

or praps the weeping fall
resigned to decay

no... not there
not anywhere 'out there'

one day it ceased
incessant primordial
wail for absent breast
laid bare

grow up
stand tall
forgive
outlive

undo the latch
let newness breathe
let go lament and
choose to Live!
725 · May 2018
what's it all about... ?
eleanor prince May 2018
same sketch
cloned day
sundown station
schema

office workers
signed off
shuffle
numb

curbed chaos
train clatter
shifting gears
clashing sound

noise assaults
savaged senses
lulls into
stupor's rhythm

cardboard sentinels
stare blind
frames fixed on
blanched orbits

disjointed huddle
inciting life's
vapid
echo
scenes from an urban station at rush-hour...
721 · Jul 2016
when grief burns raw
eleanor prince Jul 2016
I'm sad
my friend
sad

you tried
we tried
we cried

you fought
we fought
for naught

craven creature
writhed
and won

I'm sorry
friend
so sorry

how can sun
be gone
yet birds sing

don't they see
can't they tell

it is but stars
an afterglow
all is naught

life has passed
your ailing breath
expired

from darkness sown
by drug cartels
intent

on breaking will
of *** plant babes
sourced for fame

stealthy greed
seduces most
millions sought

want you
and me
they're undeterred

their filly reach
a blinding hate
of freedom's rights

leave humans be
as infants wail
and white coats play

mere blinded dupes
pay dues required
in hallowed halls

and now you're
dead
yes, dead

not anywhere
you've left us
gone

from dirt to dirt
and ash to ash
and so it ends

somehow we must
decide to breathe
when you cannot

I hold you still
in memory's dream
my brother sweet

though in my arms
the grief burns
pure

writhe impotent
in essence true
we're nil

no flow of tears
will soothe you now
they've ceased

the dreaded C
has had its day
too bad

too bad
our useless words
rebound

a spinning wheel
pathetic croaks
on fade porch

perhaps if we...
I should have said...
why didn't I...

and so it goes

tortured mind
unwilling thrusts
accept the truth

grim reaper came
and now he's
gone

another love
will soon be
marked

why you dear friend
Lord, please
not you

the rivers dam
there are no streams
that be enough

remorse it screams
why not the swines
the great unwashed

why was it you
the good
- why
https://www.flickr.com/photos/mynamesdonny/8159513636/in/photolisIn case you would like to click on here you will see the image that accompanies this poem - thank you

t-dr2D8A-97EVBF-6qQRzg-iUPWKd-iYMFFX-7EXSe9-9f19rL-4i6YFZ-
5Gxo1v-qsJiaM-NCREr-sMMrY-nfpVFt-cqs19y-7uqxS8-cKy4WA-7xpxVa-9NBggb-pMnk2x-526rW4-dq2bag-pXvA1e-jnKSP3-bozWgp-fLPCSQ-7eV3wJ-sqwNbs-6
720 · Feb 2017
- a moment's reprieve -
eleanor prince Feb 2017
a short reprieve
as time would tell
but for that moment
as winter yielded to rest
Ballaarat had turned on a day

no more did grey rain
slice savagely side-wards
shot from Antarctica's ice-fields
separating ribs from shivering flesh
leaving futile dreams of an early spring

this day was good
leaves barely rustled
occasional gusts stirred
caught in silent murmurings
as bulbs reached up with impish smile
this old gold-rush town in mid-Victoria, Australia, is built on a windy plateau, and though gracious in its traditional beauty, is known for relentless winds most of the year... a fine day is celebrated!
Next page