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Erica Statham Feb 2011
Not mine in sleep,
In depths too deep.
He smiles closed eye,
with stretching love,
hand down covered chest,
unseen like dream,
under cover protected.

Back to me now,
in horizontal bow.
Mirrored actions,
from dream to me,
moaning to be free,
from sleep breathing shallow,
but still tightly under.

He doesn't smile like that at me.

Who does he see,
when he is with dream,
wandering through endless.
Fighting off monsters,
******* relentless.
It is the redhead-
**** of his dream,
demon of mine.
Voice betrayed.
You said her name,
in lustful wont.
You're ******* her.
You're ******* her?
breathing her name,
as sleep becomes distant,
dream moves away.
He looks my way,
and clambers on top.
007 him has more skill
more attractive women
but I will do, oh, already the spill,
sticky and wet,
not broken a sweat.
She laughs behind
my unseeing eyes,
licking his love off her fingers.
She has him every night now,
like he has her most mornings.
Instead of me.
Copyright Erica Statham 20/02/2011
Erica Statham Feb 2011
Thirteen week bump,
Thirty four week lump.

Tummy flutters,
Excited mutters.

Boy or a Girl,
Ultrasound swirl.

"Wow! Congratulations".
Silent commiserations...

Her friends all excited,
and she not invited.

Scream at the smiling,
hurt from the beguiling,

of the unknowing monsters.
The mothers and fathers,

of children not quite existing,
egg like and nesting.

They don't know her agony,
being in perfect anonymity.  

but it eats her insides,
like a child that resides,

or once did.

So she logs off of Facebook
Where she can only look

and then logs back on again
Does she enjoy this pain?

One day she cracked
and her emotions hacked

through her rational thought
and she gasps like fish just caught

Shhh, It is okay. It is okay
one point seven second delay

Delete it now.
You stupid cow!

What were you thinking?
Oh you've been drinking.

Facebook friends
and their mid twenty trends

You will have yours one day
Like Anne, who was thirty three?

Just log off now and get on with life.
I can't... Oh look Hannah has a wife!
copyright Erica Statham 14/02/2011
Erica Statham Feb 2011
Diluted to death.
The words from your electric inkwell
are a single grain of sand
on the most vast shore of sameness.
Hello Poetry
Copyright Erica Statham 06/02/2011
Erica Statham Jan 2011
Time didn't stop for you
It wore you down and drowned
The reason for your being
And sat on the bed
Numbed cold and dark
In amongst a set

Swaying in kelp
And calling for help?
No, you were dead
Kept in the sea

And hidden under animal
Probing shell
Realising silver handle
Indented amid raised floral pattern
Lying wasted, purpose voided

No fair hair to meet
In bedroom
No table dresser to sit
Ever waiting to service
Then you were not needed
Expressing regret to mistress forgotten
Educated schools caught your shine, now
No one around three miles down

There you were forgot
Whale teeth returned and
Eaten at depth
Little brush empty and
Violated and not pretty
Copyright Erica Statham January 14th 2011

This at the moment I am aware is a somewhat bad poem, but that is why I need your help to make it better. Please suggest and crtiticise until your little hearts are contented :)

Erica Statham Jan 2011
Pretty summer dress,
Lola holds Porcelain Meg.
Car brakes scream, smack, stop.
Copyright Erica Statham January 12th 2010
Erica Statham Jan 2011
Congratulations "Mommy2B"!
You sold "baby pram in powder blue"
For two hundred and forty dollars to "Ann_3"
© Erica Statham 9th January 2011
Erica Statham Jan 2011
The Sister
pushing pram, playing
face ever changing, as she grows.

The Father
drinking tea, swaying
blurring the edges of his woes.

The Mother
going out, sneaking
looking over shoulder, as she goes.

The Brother
behind bars, crying.
Only Mum visits, everyone knows.

The Child
Safe, soundly sleeping.
Sweetpea visable, until it first snows.
© Erica Statham 9th January 2011
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