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16.4k · Feb 2016
ice
ice
Cold, blue, wet, fragile, brittle, hard, steam solidified, water hardened, anger, fear, white, tensile,

steam solidified,
water hardened; you lie
in her wintered veins.

why?

"If she's awake, I'll **** you."
staccato words spoken
like a knife blade thrown...
...with malice and intent.

Her father's voice
from the bedroom next door
no sound of her mother.

The female child cowered
under her candy-striped sheets
their usual soft comfort
unnoticed

footsteps
door handle moving
light seeping into her sanctuary

her heart thudded
trying to escape her chest
as she held her breath.

"Please, please don't hear me."
a silent plea as
fear snatched her in its icy grip.

She could smell him
smell the cigarettes
smell his power.

She waited.

He backed out
returned to her mother
between her heartbeats
she heard the slap

"You are lucky this time,
*****. She sleeps."
Heavy footsteps down the stairs
punctuated by her mother's tears.

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~

The girl child had only ever blamed her mother
decades of anger and bitterness
the memory of this night buried deep.
Crazed hard ice beneath the tundra of her life.

In the third decade of the girl child's life
her mother died
alone
never forgiven for what she hadn't done
nor for what she had.

The ice remained in the girl child's veins
If anything, thicker...harder.

Then in her fifth decade this ice became water
as with the passage of life the tundra thawed
and rising with it to the surface
the truth.

Then what?

The girl child worked hard at staying warm
at keeping the ice at bay.
Not easy.

Nothing was ever said to her father.

In her sixth decade the girl child's father died
embraced in his daughter's arms
forgiven for what he had done
and for what he hadn't.

The woman had finally thawed
she was properly warm
her own love
finally able to flow
6.8k · Feb 2011
Daybreak
Birdsong melody
woven into morning mist.
Snowdrops, buzzard. Life.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
3.6k · Nov 2011
gore & gloriousness
50 quid a night
Bleak walls
***** curtains
'Thieves abound' signs.
What do you expect?

Rumbling
deep and dark
Boeings vying
with Airbus
for air space

Around me
surrounded
held hostage by
a mix of humanity
that defies belief

Tats & shaven eyebrows
Over there a Rolex
Business people
thin on the ground
Holidaymakers

construction gangs
football teams
flight crew...
No pilots, mind
Families

And then there are
the lonesomes
like me
and people shouting
into their digital fruits

Only 50 quid a night
What do you expect?
What you've got...
A melting *** of humanity
In all its gore & gloriousness
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011. All Rights Reserved
3.3k · Nov 2010
Gateways to Gaia
Agung, Abang, Batur
sacred volcanoes
gateways to Gaia

standing silent
omnipresent
dawn’s light your only adornment

at your feet
paddy fields
emerald carpets
across which you stride
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved

(Written whilst looking out of my window in rural Bali at a sight that greeted me every day)
2.7k · Jan 2011
Elephant Pink
Her name is Chang Champoo,
translated as ‘Elephant Pink.’
Met on the street in tourist Thailand.
9 years old.
6 months pregnant.
A beggar in an urban landscape.

Hungry,
grabbing sugar cane from my fingers.
Desperate for food.
Destined for an early grave.

“Where are you from?”
A question to her mahout,
in Thai hauled from fragments of memory.
“The border.”  
Seemingly obtuse but not really.
Only one nearby.
Burma.

Elephants,
born in captivity,
used in logging,
now unemployed.
Teak forests of old but a distant memory.

Did I only fuel her belly
buying over-priced sugar cane?
Or did I also fuel
rampant exploitation
of disadvantaged animals?

Not everything in life
Is black and white.
Sometimes it is grey,
This night it was Pink.
How could I refuse her sustenance
when confronted by those
mournful pachyderm eyes.

The question lingers…
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved

(Written in Thailand several years ago in the hours after meeting Chang Champoo. Now, in 2011, the question still lingers.)
2.6k · Jun 2011
Ice Cream
I saw an old man in Exeter today;
saw him twice, in fact.
Each time he was eating ice cream
beneath his black felt hat.

His face was wizened, a cliche I know,
but I don’t know how else to say it.
He looked tired and worn behind his smile,
his shoulders sagged, his eyelids low.

At his feet a collection of bags,
small and medium, all black.
His wordly possessions I couldn’t but wonder,
carried around on his back.

What stories do you hold, old man,
wrapped in the parchment of your skin?
Will they be forever mysteries untold,
or do you have someone to invest them in?
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
2.5k · Nov 2010
advent
Lightness touched darkness.
Haunting melodic echoes
danced off painted sky.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
http://web.mac.com/jrlesueur
2.3k · Dec 2012
infinity
The light is the truth
Religion says

I'm not sure that's the case

For it's in the dark
I really see

infinity

no beginning
no end
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012. All Rights Reserved
2.3k · Nov 2010
Autumn
Pheasant calls, mist a
gentle cloak. Ephemeral,
you smiled and were gone.
Copyright Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/autumn
2.0k · Mar 2011
Cranes Fly
Cranes fly as earth cries.
Land of rising sun gathers,
glues fragments shattered.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All rights Reserved
1.9k · Dec 2011
confusion
Confusion
enemy of sanity,
champion of creation.

Broken heart,
mended over time.
Laughter and tears
different sides of the same coin.

Lack of honesty
fear of transparency.
Living a lie,
fearing the truth.

Words run through my mind
like an uncontrollable train.
To say, or not?
To say or not?
Wheels going endlessly round.

Convert the energy
Into something more productive.
Would be sensible, no?

To the hell with sensibility.

Confusion reigns.
(Written in Bangkok 6 years ago...as valid now as it was then albeit for a completely different reason.)

©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
1.8k · Dec 2010
perception
Dreams echo in the
winter of words. Catalysts
or chains? ...perception
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
1.5k · Dec 2010
alien isle
it’s a strange place
this alien isle
land of big skies
and endless red earth

this place of dreaming
of promise and hope
of black fellas
and white convict stock

this place of flowers
coloured larger than life
of kookaburras, koalas
and ‘roos

this place where the sand
is whiter than white
and the sharks rule
turquoise blue seas

this land of dust
and fragrant winds
where silvered light
blinds and burns

this place that keeps secrets
close to its breast
and where man is in thrall
to the land
© Inspirational Alchemy 2010 All Rights Reserved
1.5k · Nov 2010
Full Moon
Cobalt night; threads of
jasmine woven with moonlight.
Earth and ether smile.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
1.4k · Jul 2013
No longer alone
It is strange
yet not
being back here on
the isle of my forefathers
Of I

Everything is different
yet
nothing has changed

Seagulls call and
the air smells of seaweed
There are pink flowers in baskets
and the sky is blue
That endless blue of timeless childhood summers

Here my name is not an aberration
'ueu' is an everyday tripthong
'Le' a rule not an exception
I am not an exception either

After half a century
discovery
I am one of a tribe after all

Ancestors
people I have never known
not even in name lest alone body
Reaching way back in time
Predominantly French
or of this isle

The Germans
photographed every islander
when they occupied this dot of granite
as bombs fell on Europe in a rain of death

The Occupation was a dark period of
hunger and cruelty
but thanks to these photos
I have seen my heritage
etched on faces so familiar
yet never met

I learned just now
my paternal grandfather had gunshot wounds
along his right side and arm and leg
Mementos of the Somme
of Passchedale
and Ypres

I discovered he died of
carcinoma of the lungs
like my mother
my uncle
several aunts
and my Pa

He survived four years of the Great War
water logged trenches
blood-rusty bayonets
horror and starvation
Just one of a few to come home
Military Medal pinned to his chest
5 feet tall yet battle hardy
witnessing things
doing things
no man nor woman should ever do

But Grandpa (how joyous to hear that word on my lips!)
couldn't defeat
the silent enemy
that waged its war within

All this new knowledge
somehow makes me feel older
Not in years
but in history

Tattoos of my heritage
now pattern my bones

My parents are both dead
I have no siblings
no partner
no children
but now I am
no longer alone
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2013. All Rights Reserved
1.4k · Jan 2011
Marching Song
In a place
that I am beyond

Floating
Looking down on a life that was
that is no more

Running in my mind
Impatient
Fingers drumming in my consciousness
a marching song
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
1.4k · Jul 2012
tiger caged
pacing
pacing
down, up

around
the house
a tiger caged

caged?
no...
I am free

caged?
yes...
in the turmoil of my mind

no idea
which way to
turn

no idea
what to
do

go?
stay?
go?

will he even
know
who I am?

does it matter?
it does
to me

we don't treat
animals
like this

prison we'd
be in
if we did

but when
it comes
to those we love

we have to
stand by
helpless

hour on hour
moment by moment
watching

my father
stripped
of dignity

dying
atom by atom
trying so hard to stay

why Pa?

bed wetting
dribbling
loss of lucidity

do I go?
do I stay?
do I go?

tiger caged
paces
into the darkness
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
1.4k · Feb 2011
Out Walking
Seductive songsters
woo  with sweet dawn melodies;
grey heron takes flight.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011. All Rights Reserved
1.4k · Jul 2011
Good Luck
Blue floor, blue chair
flowered curtains and
a view of fields
beyond the window.

Bed, unmade.
What history does
that hold, I wonder?
Radio plays, chatter, soft footsteps.

The Big Man arrives.
Kind, gentle, dark eyes.
Soft voice, good hands.
Pulls no punches.

This is what will happen.
He says, do I understand?
The words, of course I do.
The impact? Let's see.

The gas man arrives.
Banters jovially.
Nice of him to try but
I'm beyond all that.

He knows how to put us out
but his experience
of the experience?
Minimal. I asked.

Always throws them, that.
When you ask them if
they know what it is like.
So easy to be glib without pain.

This risk and that.
Do you understand,
they ask once again.
Sign here. "Good luck."

Never had a surgeon
Say, "good luck" before.
Sun's gone in,
It's raining now.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011. All Rights Reserved
1.3k · Sep 2010
rivers
rivers of metal
unable to flow
trapped
by sheer volume
in gorges of girded concrete

fingers drumming
frustrated heartbeats
on immobilised steering wheels
imprisoned
impotent
feeling the passage of
time that doesn’t wait
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/rivers
1.3k · Dec 2012
forty-four days
"I do love you, you know, love
It's just too late
to do anything about it now."

Heartfelt words spoken
at the end of a day
that'd seen six heart attacks
come and go

Across the hours
your silence spoke volumes
marching time as it did through your pain

Eyes closed to the world
until those last words
spoken with such passion
as I steeled myself to leave

You grasped my hand
held it tight to your chest
your gaze like a cloak encircling me

Gravity carried my tears
anguish spotting the floor
yours a lifetime of sorrows
staining the pillow

How I walked away
I will never know
my heart breaking with each step

Death was expected
the very next day
already it was knocking
but you didn't open the door

Not for another
forty-four days
finally leaving wrapped in my embrace

Ready you were
after our time together
your room in the hospice
our port in the storm

We laughed and we cried
we talked and forgave
we journeyed far and deep

You had said it was too late
to show me your love
but truly it wasn't
you know, Pa

You did an excellent job
at the end of the day
and in your own way
my  life through

I may have nothing material
to remind me of you
but my memories will never fade
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012. All Rights Reserved
1.3k · Dec 2010
still waters
sitting

rivers of Singapore life
flow around me
over me

forever drowning in noise


clatter of plates
rumbling traffic
the discordant wailing of ringtones

diaspora

cultures, colours, faiths
streaming together
oil on water

you stare

‘ang moh,’  you mutter
red haired devil
am I?

alone

you don’t like
to share my table
or sit by me on the bus

and yet

like water on the mountaintop
ever seeking the sea
with gentle persistence we live together

still waters of humanity run deep
(An iPhone poem, written in a hawker stall, hot kopi to hand)

©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
1.3k · Oct 2010
honour in the park
walking Van Dieman’s Land
Hobart
following footsteps through the park
christmas roses on the arm of campanulas
sashaying in the winter wind
an oxymoronic botanical dance
appropriate given the place

isle of heat to the north
isle of ice to the south
between
this isle of freedom & hope
place of salvation when the centuries turned
18th to 19th
settlement ships sailing south
feeding their human cargo
on dreams

time moves on
21st century now resides in the park
where vertical walls carry your headstones
telling your story
explaining how you stained the earth with your blood
and
why the ether echoes with your tears

so many lives measured not in years
but
in days or months

you are honoured now
finally
very right
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reservered
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/honour-in-the-park
1.2k · Dec 2010
And yet
Christmas excitement
Gaffers & gofers
booms & boxes
trucks & trolleys

They've chosen today
to shoot a movie
2 floors below me
No pics allowed

Twenty four tropical Christmases
It still seems so odd
so discordant
Disconnected

Gambling movies filmed
when most of my friends
are last-minute shopping
and thinking of Santa

They're wrapping presents
and keeping secrets
Thinking about how long
the turkey will take to cook

Dressed in jumpers
coats and scarves
Fingers blue
noses red

No puddles to slide on here
no snow
Just air like silk
and monsoon rain

Sweat trickling
in endless rivers
No goose bumps leaving tracks
across my skin

Out the window
cheeky mynah birds chatter
a white bellied eagle soars
Not a robin in sight

As the sun sets
painting the sky
a kaleidoscope
of gentle colour


A nomad soul wonders
why she's happy to wander
And yet
she so longs to belong
Singapore. Christmas Eve, 2010

© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
1.2k · Sep 2010
Dark Moon Night
Lily pads floating.
Darkness deep; moon veiled this night.
Boatmen dance, geese sleep.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
1.2k · Nov 2010
inner city
egg boxes stacked
one atop the other
row upon row

metal gratings
stop the world
from entering

limp washing
prayer flags
in polluted air

humanity captive
deprived of light

unable
or
unwilling to escape?
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved

(Written in Bangkok in September 2005 and revisited after a trip to the city very recently, at the end of November 2010)
1.2k · Oct 2016
Berlin ...
a city with a past
that echoes unrelentingly
through its present

a city of whispering shadows
& tortured souls
of sharp edges
& crystallised tears



© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2016 All Rights Reserved
Written on a cold, snowy morning in  February 2010 having just experienced the Monument to the Murdered European Jews...2711 concrete stelae representing the 6 million Jews killed in the Holocaust
1.2k · Jan 2012
Nino
Wrapped up in red
and tied with silver
a small painting
you made in school

Given with a smile
and a whole lot of love
Van Gogh's Sunflowers
don't hold a torch to this

I may not be a mother
nor a sister
nor an aunt
I may not have family to visit

But ...

7 years old
you prove so well
that family do not have
to share blood
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
1.2k · Dec 2010
Maldivian Night
setting sun

blood red orb falling into mercury sea

breeze gentle like a lover’s caress

a stillness so pure



inky blackness

endless arch peppered with stars

planets blink, flying fish dance

phosphorescence luminous in the wake of your footfall



and so you sit

breathing

absorbing

the very essence of earth, sea and sky



moon rise

full, swollen with fecundity

silence embraces you

life’s negativity is cleansed from your soul



and so you sit

dreaming

wishing on a star



sun rise

pink, peach, soft

enveloping your being

giving birth to a brand new day



to a brand new you
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved

(Written in 2005... first poem penned as an adult.)
1.2k · Aug 2014
Shingles
I really really
must not scratch
this itchy itchy itch
but what to do
when all your hands
just want to do is scratch

Diagnosed this morning
by Doctor Wicky Wong
I don't like the look of those
he said
Neither do I
I wished him wrong

Back I went this evening
as more spots they had appeared
He looked a little closer
muttered words I could barely hear
off work 3 days not 1 he said
Contagious these may spread

So here I am at home alone
with nowt to do but write
a load of twaddle on the page
as shingles rages rife
when what I'd really love to do
is sleep say nighty night
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2014 All Rights Reserved
1.1k · Nov 2011
Maldivian Night
the setting sun
blood red orb falling into mercury sea
soft breeze tracing your skin like a lover’s caress
stillness
so pure

inky blackness falls
an endless arch peppered with stars
planets blink
flying fish dance
phosphorescence sparkles green
luminous in the wake of your footfall

and so you sit
breathing
absorbing
the very essence of earth, sea and sky

the moon rises full
swollen with fecundity
silence embraces you
life’s negativity is cleansed from your soul

and so you sit
dreaming
wishing on a star

the sun rises
pink, peach, soft
enveloping your being
giving birth to a brand new day

to a brand new you
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2005 All Rights Reserved

(The first poem I ever wrote about a truly magical experience I had when I lived in the Maldives. )
1.1k · Jan 2012
Castaway
I need to write you a letter
its content will hurt you
I'm sure
But there are words that need to be voiced
Pain that has rattled around in my soul
for five decades left unsaid

Your end is near
four months they said
that was almost three hundred days back
You are holding on
by the strength of your will
and here I come to rock your boat

Or will I

Am I so sure what I need to air
will bring a storm to your port
Perhaps this is just me clinging to hope
like a castaway hangs on to a plank
I have always wanted with all of my heart
to know you loved me, your daughter

Maybe I need to accept once and for all that you don't
because you don't know how to

or maybe you don't want to

Should I write my letter I ask myself
as I let my thoughts flow onto this page
What is there to gain if you will not talk
you have always refused to engage in the past
You know you have little time left
but why should this be a reason to change

Perhaps the time has come for me to say
'I release you, Pa'

and walk away …
c Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
1.1k · Jun 2012
Discordant Symphony
symphony of sound
a discordant composition
orchestra on cosmic stage
witching hour to dawn

woken by screeching wind
twisting that way and this
manic banshees
rampaging

in through the window
chilling my body with cold damp fingers
shutting them out
they howl even louder

joined later by rain
incessant drumbeats
endless cadence
on hard earth

lightening
synthesized energy
streaking uncontrollably
around nature's concert hall


listening in silence
watching in awe
standing ovation
applauding unseen hands
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved

Written in Singapore during an equatorial storm of magnificent proportions
1.1k · Dec 2011
father
in the moonlight of your life
your skin drapes loose over your bones
documenting your existence
and wrapping up memories
that you have determined will remain untold
leaving me wondering what you might have said
and now never will
c Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
1.1k · Jan 2011
A Savage Spring
A sickly sweet smell lingers
Bodies
Legs in the air
Bloated bellies

Senseless slaughter
Rivers of blood in country lanes
Hundreds of thousands dead
If this were a war in a foreign land there would be outrage

Instead of crying “Shame… Stop…”
The government shouts “****…Cull…”
and drafts the Army into a battle
on home soil that they're not trained for

It’s got all the facets of a work of fiction
******, lies, cover up
larger than life figures and unsung heroes
And above all, innocent victims

What will our children say
when they read of this real-life genocide?
Heads will hang in shame
and the pervasive memory of death will remain
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved

(Written in Devon, England in April 2001 at the height of the foot and mouth crisis. A forgoten poem, rediscovered this morning as I sort through my office. The poem may have been forgotten for the past decade but the sights and smells of that terrible time are as viseral now as they were then.)
1.1k · Jun 2011
still waters
sitting eating
rivers of Singapore life
flow around me, over me

forever drowning in noise

clatter of plates
rumbling traffic
the discordant wailing of ringtones

diaspora

cultures, colours, faiths
streaming together
oil on water

often you stare
‘ang moh,’  you mutter
'red haired devil'

you don’t like
to share my table
or sit by me on the bus

and yet

like water on the mountaintop
ever seeking the sea
with gentle persistence we live together

still waters of humanity run deep
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
1.1k · Dec 2011
four sleeps
four sleeps
four more sleeps
and then that day arrives
the day
if you are not careful
that reminds you
of all you are not

you are not a mother
nor a sister
nor an aunt
you do not have family
you can go and visit

when you wake
on that day
there is no laughter echoing
nor  paper ripping
as presents are opened
before the kettle has boiled

instead
your house
echoes with emptiness
you will eat your turkey and trimmings alone
no debate about who sits where at the table
nor fights for supremacy of the remote control

please

do not be sad for me

reframe your matrix
the way I do

my heart beats with the gift of life
my memory is filled
with the richness of days gone by
and each moment I breathe
the only moment any of us has
is filled with belief and shaped by joy

I am not a mother
nor a sister
nor an aunt
I do not have family
I can go and visit
I will eat alone on Christmas Day

but what I am is me

and for that I am blessed
as you are for being you
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
1.1k · Jun 2012
observation
concrete canyons
threaded
with ribbons of sky

streams
of humanity
flowing between

multi-coloured
side-by-side
kilometres apart

lives touching
but not
connecting

an unsustainable journey
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
1.0k · Jan 2011
Harry's Bar : Monday 7pm
Apples and Blackberrys
The fruits of your belonging
On the table… place of prominence
Screaming ‘look at me!’
Clinging to their network
As you do to yours

Talking to your colleagues
Eyes flitting from one to other
As your fingers anxiously search
The table next to your glass
Constantly seeking the reassurance
Of your disconnected connectivity

Voices compete with ringtones
Over the rumble of the traffic
And the hollow echoes of your laughter
I can’t help but ask myself
Where are you?
Are you really there?
©Jacqueline Le Sueur  2011 All Rights reserved
1.0k · Sep 2010
Soul Balm
Cockerels and crickets,
whispering wind; gentle sun.
Dawn Bali...soul balm
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
1.0k · Sep 2010
Child
Maybe four years old
Pretty pink pyjamas
***** and torn

Wisdom of age
Beyond young years
Etched on your sad face

Feet cut & bleeding
Have they ever
seen shoes?

Hair matted
Twigs for adornment
Baubles of the earth

Blue plastic mug
Held upwards
Empty

You were here yesterday
You will be here tomorrow
But for how long?

The world walks by
Seeing you
Avoiding you

You touch their hearts
Maybe their souls
But not their wallets

It’s not money
You need in your blue mug
It’s love
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/child

(Written in Bangkok)
1.0k · Sep 2011
knock knock
vitality wanes,
lost forever over the
edge of death's doorstep
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
1.0k · Apr 2011
marching song
In a place
that I am beyond

Floating
Looking down on a life that was
that is no more

Running in my mind
Impatient
Fingers drumming in my consciousness
a marching song

Building up the courage
to do what must be done
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
997 · Sep 2010
Soul Balm II
Cockerels and crickets
Bali breezes; gentle sun
Earth spins, beauty dawns
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 Al Rights Reserved
990 · Oct 2010
Hard Edges
hard edges
relentlessly slicing my soul
rending to tatters if allowed

forever protecting
constantly repairing

I gaze seawards, skywards
to vistas beyond vision
worlds with no hard edges

expanses where souls dance
to the lullaby of love

borderless
beyond time and space

leave me there
© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/hard-edges


(written in Bangkok 2005)
951 · Jan 2012
GPS wanted
lost

in the labyrinth
of memory

knocking

on doors that
cannot be opened

grasping

for fragments
forever out of reach

seeking

what can never
be recalled

knowing

you know
and yet you don't

so lost
c Jacqueline Le Sueur 2012 All Rights Reserved
930 · Sep 2010
Sea of Smiles
the sun is at its zenith
blazing down
from an unsullied sky
baking the black sand
beneath my feet
so hot it burns

a strong onshore wind
is chasing luminous white horses
across the surface
of a deep indigo sea
leaving their salty touch
on my skin as it passes

a melody gamelans and drums
gongs and cymbals
laughter and chatter
ripples around me
and the song of an ice cream seller
is making my mouth water

I turn my gaze towards the heavens
watching the kites
write their poetry
in the sky
as they float high above
our sea of sea of smiles
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/sea-of-smiles
922 · Sep 2010
on the shore
vanda miss joaquim
lying bruised and battered
on the shore
what is your story

the gift of a lover
given with a smile
with tender words whispered
from a heart filled with hope
and a body aching with desire

or perhaps
you carry in your memories
memories of one who has journeyed
beyond this life
ashes of their earthly body
scattered at sea
you in their wake

or perhaps
perhaps
you were carried to the shore
on the wings of the wind
plucked from your stem
floating to where
silver foam kisses golden sand
dancing this way and that
in the embrace of the ocean

where
finally
in the face of unrequited love
you relinquish your flawless beauty
to its graceful omnipotence
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2010 All Rights Reserved
https://www.jacquelinelesueur.com/post/on-the-shore
914 · Jan 2011
Sangkha
Out of madness came serenity
gliding barefoot
across potholed pavements

Swathed in saffron
folded cloth falling gracefully
over peaceful form

Shaven scalp
beatific countenance
eyes cast downwards in respect

Alms bowl held to chest
accepting of all given
accepting if nothing given

Radiant
Present
Awake

A lesson in motionless motion
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved

(Written in a taxi whilst stuck in a traffic jam in downtown Bangkok)
897 · Jan 2011
whispers
bed shared with i. Pad.
shadowed sleep greets echoed dawn
as soul whispers hope.
©Jacqueline Le Sueur 2011 All Rights Reserved
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