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Haydn Swan Mar 2023
Electric eyes that try and see,
yet you think you know me,
the truth makes you squirm,
yet in credance you will never learn,

It's the essence of your belief,
hollow pots that are full of grief,
tantric words massage your soul,
shouting words from a fathemless hole.

you think you can take it all,
but a trip always precedes a fall,
there's alway something left to sell,
but no more words left to tell.
Haydn Swan Dec 2020
I see the twinkle still in your eyes,
the grey clouds closing in on your smile,
ambiguous laughter still echo's in my ears,
ghosts that walk through the shadows you cast,
reaching with a hand I cannot touch,
grasping I wish to touch your soul,
there are tears but only in my eyes, not yours,
I see it tearing you away,
like a desert carcass waiting for the rain,
disappearing, fading, translucence.
if I could only wear your mantel,
takeaway the weight from weary bones,
time to rest your head on my shoulder,
sleep only sleep, my sister, sleep,
tally with me and we shall ride the morning.
I wrote this for my sister who is in the advanced stages of progressive MS.
Haydn Swan Dec 2020
If you could feel what I can feel,  

Sleep would be kept from you too,

Watching the sheep count my dreams,

Waiting for the rain to start,

Torn into pieces before the dawn,

Phantoms twitch into life,

They watch me squirm on the edge of a knife

Imaginary tunes ring in my ears,

Dancing round the room held up by strings,

Never ending words upon a canvas soul,

fluttering ribbons on a maypole,

Waiting for the clocks to laugh,

The mists of time choke my breath,

If you could feel what I can feel,

Sleep would be kept from you too.
  Jun 2020 Haydn Swan
our mouths go dry,
our actions get lazy,
our anchors unmoored,
our directions change,
our bearings are misaligned,
our charts remain unplotted,
our complacencies swell,
our greed metastasise,
our ignorance nurtured...

How then,
would our story end?

  Jun 2020 Haydn Swan
Sharon Ingar
Deep within
Under my skin
I am the worrier
You are the scar
Silent you are
I am the worrier
You are the scar.
  Jun 2020 Haydn Swan
Sharon Ingar
There you sit on your stand
Waiting to be played
Calling me
Play me play me
As I pluck your strings
The dark deep sound
Deep within
My beautiful bass.
  Jun 2020 Haydn Swan
Sharon Ingar
On the ground you swirl around
In and out among the graves
Slowly and silently
And as the church bells chime
Silently you disappeare
Until another day.
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