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KG Sep 2016
We drink wine
As the weary wings of the dove
Labor over restless graves
Weaving between the carnival cruises
Drifting along the red canal

Three hundred cubits long,
Fifty wide and thirty tall
Rivers red overflow
The cypress whip cracks
Licking the ****** hide
With a serrated tongue

Ripped from gnawed *******; Raw
From the desperate lips of brothers and sisters.
Rivers red overflow
With the whimpers of last breaths
Muted by the blade of violent delight
And teeth grinding machines

We sit in our squeaking rubber boots
Cutlery clinks and clacks, saws, severs, slice.
Rivers red overflow
With an anguished unholy
Screeching sound
Deaf are our saintly ears

We drink wine
As the weary dove
Returns empty beaked
Once more to his perch
And preens his scarlet feathers
Mar 2016 · 1.2k
Insomnia
KG Mar 2016
Mother tucks me in at night, but she knows I cannot sleep
Some nights I hear the shouts
Of evil men with empty glasses
Marching down the streets

Other nights I lie awake with hands pressed to my ears
Father says it’s just a storm
But rain doesn’t explode?
I try to douse the flames with tears

Some nights I lie awake, tormented by my mind
Why have my friends vanished?
Why did they have to wear a star?
Why are people so unkind?

Sometimes I hear a steam engine churning in the night
I wonder where it goes
But every time I ask
No one ever seems to know
Feb 2016 · 483
Untitled
KG Feb 2016
I found no comfort in the soft cotton of his tattered grey-tshirt.
They say after someone dies you find solace in their belongs:
The socks he used to leave on bedroom floor,
His worn leather jacket,
The moth eaten t-shirts you had once begged him to throw out.
Somehow these items become … sacred?
Yet no one tells you what to do
When the ragged t-shirts no longer smell of his spiced cologne,
But sag damply with the smell of your sweat,
And the holes are no longer made by flittering moths,
But burned with tears.
Feb 2016 · 475
Untitled
KG Feb 2016
The ticking of an antique clock,
The smell of unwashed dishes,
A sinewy hand curled around the heart
Small slits of sunlight Peaked through the blind’s half shut eyelids.
Burrowed in the shadows,
She sunk into the old armchair.
Ink scrawled papers littered the room,
Resting gloomily on the coffee stained carpet and dust flecked tables.
The words would not come.
Her notepad ---- a casket for the desiccated shells
Of words that carried no life.
Jan 2016 · 7.4k
Rockabye Orphans
KG Jan 2016
Rockabye babies
Our mothers our dead
In the tree tops
We lay down our heads

When the wind blows
They shut all the doors
The cradle will rock
Our clothes are all torn

When the bow breaks
We’re hungry, alone
The cradle will fall
We wished for a family, but now we’re too tall
Currently working on a collection entitled "The Cradle Will Fall". This is my opening piece, inspired by a friend very close to my heart.
Jan 2016 · 741
Nightmares
KG Jan 2016
She woke, shivering in the dark of night
Wary of the long shadows on the wall
Flicking on the pink hued tulip nightlight
To forget the monster with one eyeball
The giant teddy bear with sharpened claws
The troll that sneered and chased her down the street
The King Kong turtle with quick snapping jaws
The freckled boy who ate her ice-cream treat
She runs down the cold hall to Mommy’s room
She turns the **** and tiptoes to her bed
“I had a nightmare,” the little girl croons.
“Shhh, it was only a dream,” Mommy said
She tucks her in and rocks her back to sleep
Years later she wakes alone, cold and naked
Her dreams a waking truth; the woman weeps
Resenting all the precious years wasted
From room to room she walks the barren halls
There is no one. Only an empty house
With silent photos hanging on the walls
Jan 2016 · 2.1k
Guardians of the Forest
KG Jan 2016
Come, take my hand
Follow me into the forest
The fallen leaves, drenched with rain, will guide our path
Through the shaded glade and up the moss covered hill
Don’t be afraid to step in the mud
Listen, hear the crisp snap of twigs echo in the distance
The soft lull of trickling water, flowing in the creek
Watch, catch a glimpse of the timid deer
Hiding in the thicket and the little squirrel
Lilting across the treetops, acorns in cheek
Touch, stroke the rough bark beneath your fingertips
Caress the summer leaves, immerse your hands
In the tranquility of soothing waters
Feel, accept the dawn’s gentle kisses upon your face
The pure spirits that inhabit the trees
Feel nature pulsing through your body with renewed vitality
Breathe deeply;
Infuse your lungs with the richness of life
And speak:

Tell me, Mr. Arborist,
Do you still wish to destroy the forest?
Children have a beautiful relationship with nature, uncorrupted by greed. They make us question the morality of our actions. They are the true voice and guardians of the forest.
Dec 2015 · 7.9k
Her Words are Worthless
KG Dec 2015
Sopor fuels the pen
Darkness devours the sun
As she carves the page

With beautiful words
Ethereal, Opulent
Sonder, syzygy


Vellichor, Gambol
Efflorescence, Effluence

Words without meaning

Lurk in the shadows
And hovels of ambition
Creep onto the page

But the mind embraced
In a blanket of obscurity
Cannot find their worth

Her Mellifluous song
Ensorcelled her lover
Bliss in limerence


How can the stagnant
Heart waltz with stars, write of love,
Beat in unison?

How can the lifeless
Soul connect with humanity?

*My words are worthless
Reworking this piece.
Dec 2015 · 528
The Fall
KG Dec 2015
Am I in Paradise
If I fear the beast?
Darkness devours the sun
Dec 2015 · 1.6k
Haiku
KG Dec 2015
The wagon was red
The sky coughed dewy smoke
Footprints in the mud
Dec 2015 · 870
Room 365
KG Dec 2015
Nanny,
Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I have ever done.
As I tread along the barren corridor that night,
I passed the poorest of souls.
Those whose frenzied hands moved without purpose,
Muttering incomprehensible sounds from their shrunken lips,
As they stared absently at the walls, never truly seeing.
With a clenched jaw, I had to divert my gaze,
Wondering who these people were
Before their lives were stolen by Time,
The unquenchable monster slowly sipping at their youth.
A loving mother, brother, daughter, husband, sister?
Their stories I will never know.
I wondered if you would remember yours…
365
The sign on the door read Christina Cook,
Written hastily on the old whiteboard,
Stained black with the names of those who resided here before.
I will never forget the unbearable sorrow I felt as I entered your room.
Nanny, you used to tell me aging was a natural process,
Like the changing autumn leaves.
But you forgot to tell me that after that beautiful,
Final blaze of glory,
They fall.
Littering the ground in their fading shades of brown,
Disintegrating into powder.
Spread by the wind as ashes.
I held your hand, and felt the leathery skin
That bound your delicate bones.
But, it wasn’t you. Gone was the strong woman,
Mother of 8, grandmother of 19
In your small frame, I found a child.
So proud to flaunt your red-painted nails,
It was always your favourite colour.
You drew the bed sheets down
To expose your barren legs and oversized diaper,
So proud to show me “how skinny” you were getting.
I wept inside for your degenerating body.
On the outside, I smiled and said "you are beautiful".
I swallowed heavily as I kissed your cheek and said goodbye.
Took what might be my final glance
At your weathered face that was once so full with joy.
I love you.
I hated myself for leaving you all alone in that desolate room.  
I wished my presence could provide you with comfort,
But I knew I couldn’t.
Fall was fleeting,
Snowflakes were falling,
And you didn’t know me anyways.
Nov 2015 · 4.5k
The Tea Party
KG Nov 2015
“Good afternoon”
Light kisses on the cheek
Walk gracefully to your seat
Cross your legs at the ankles
                    Never the knees!

“May I have a cup of tea, please?”
A porcelain teapot pours
With grace, three quarters full
And, as not to cross the paths of love
                    Milk is always last

A silver spoon in glistening pride
An inverted reflection
Of your well-bred smile
Stir, ever so carefully, from 6 to 12
                       Never ***** the sides!


Take a sip, looking into, never over
The cup. Laugh, smile, and converse
Indulge in a skon (not scone)
With clotted cream and raspberry jam
                         Always parted in two

As you say your farewells, praise yourself
You have made Queen Catherine proud
With your lady-like poise and elegant charm
At afternoon tea
Nov 2015 · 471
The Tail That Grew and Grew
KG Nov 2015
There once was a girl with a tail
Like a creature from a fairy-tale

Every time she felt blue
A foot longer it grew

Its length they couldn’t curtail!
Just playing around today.
Nov 2015 · 1.0k
Swinging
KG Nov 2015
On summer days when rays of youth suntanned
My ivory skin, I sat upon the swing
With little pink toes dangling in the sand
Fingers curled around the rusted chains
Calloused hands push firmly on my back
Propelled me higher into the blue sky
Naively I thought these days would never die

But now the summer leaves hang lifelessly
From fading trees, fall slowly to the ground
A quiet dignity in their decline
And now you sit upon the swing. I push
You down florescent halls, but still you smile
As we reminisce about the summer sun
In memories our happiness is found
Oct 2015 · 550
Alone
KG Oct 2015
I'm a piece that doesn't fit the puzzle
Because I don't belong in the picture
Oct 2015 · 2.6k
Counting Sheep
KG Oct 2015
One, kiss we shared upon that fateful night
Your taste still lingers on my bleeding lips
That crack and chip like ice that climbers smite
As they ascend the hostile jagged cliffs
Two, veins of flowers wilting on your grave
Seeping into the earth that claims your name
Upon my barren knees I toil and slave
Nails scratch the frozen earth for you in vain
Three, whisky bottles downed, I weep for you
Delirious, glass shatters on the stone
I dance with naked feet to feel anew
The flesh that seeks devoutly to leave bone
Four, five, six, seven nights I cannot sleep
Grief cannot be erased by counting sheep
Oct 2015 · 865
A Dream of Metamorphosis
KG Oct 2015
Secluded within my quilted cocoon
A mess of white bed sheets - embrace me tight!
Forlorn, humming gloomily to the tune
Of silence in the solitude of night

Oh, how I love to sleep, to dream of light
And monarch wings and fruitful dahlia blooms
Sweet nectar of utopia’s delight
Where melodies of silken harps do croon

But flightless I must nest within this tomb
My heavy heart a hindrance to free flight
Curled up within this embryotic womb
For release, to God my prayers I do recite
Oct 2015 · 402
A Burial in the Sky
KG Oct 2015
Liberated from fettered mortal coil
Which binds us to this weary world of toil
The dewy soil exhales a sweet farewell
Behold, fate is sure – Hark, hear the knell!

O’er gentle trickling brooks that nurture life
On winged faith, depart relentless strife
Effervescent flight among clouds once yearned
A foreign realm, no traveller returns

Dear friend, hear not our mourning far below?
With haloed light your memory bestowed
In shame and sorrow do we all lament
With flowers, tears, and prayers we do repent

Oh, curse the wicked serpent of the blade!
Seductress to the everlasting *****
Aug 2015 · 1.6k
Toxic
KG Aug 2015
All trace of pleasure
Strangled
By a villainous hand,
Till all but toxic air remains

Consuming an anguished body.
Jul 2015 · 425
Dear Friend
KG Jul 2015
My dear friend,
Let not your sorrow streak the sky with tears.
Nor nourish the cruel tempests of the sea
I am not blind
To the storm you endure

Dear friend,
Metallic shadow, smeared falsely ‘cross swollen lids
Cannot shield from Zeus’ unjust spears
Alas, steely exteriors but summon
Lightning’s cruel fate.

Sweet friend,
Your silence is not reassuring
For it echoes violently across blackened seas
As dewy drops of despair
Cascade into drowning waters

My dearest friend,
Retreat beneath my umbrella.
Let me shelter you from this storm.

Let not your memories burden you with
A heaviness that's gone


~KG
#friendship #tempest #sorrow
Mar 2015 · 1.2k
Marionette
KG Mar 2015
Master in the art of manipulation,
You strum my fragile strings until I obey.
KG Feb 2015
When I was a little girl, I loved to play with dolls.
On Christmas morning, I would wake up
And a beautiful, pristine little doll sat beneath the tree.
Encased within those shiny plastic walls,
Displayed like a piece of fine art at a museum.
                            — Except, I could never stay behind the red velvet rope.

I snipped, and slashed, and cut away,
Until her plastic fortress was breached.
She was mine.
I stroked her soft, fine hair,
Feeling the silky strands upon my fingertips
And I whispered in her ear
“I will love you forever”.
She looked upon me
With bright blues eyes,
Rose painted lips,
And a compliant smile.
I knew she was mine.

And then I would play…

Yank the blue polka dot dress off her slender figure
And contort her delicate frame into any position I pleased.
She was mine to love.
Mine to control.
Shoved her into my backpack and brought her to school
Grubby little fingers reached out to play with her:
The girls playing dress up,
The boys playing dress down.

And now, her once silky hair,
brittle strands of straw,
So wild and tangled no comb could soothe.
Raced to the kitchen, grabbed the scissors
And hacked away furiously,
Somehow believing I could fix her
With the very scissors I used to break her protective walls.

Now found myself staring wistfully at the dolls with long shinny hair
When my mother took me to the department store.

Then one day, as I played with her in the backyard,
A leg popped off and would not go back on.
So I threw her disfigured body in the trash
Atop the rotting carrot peels and broken egg shells.
That compliant smile shone through,
Begging me to take her back…
                     — But I had a new doll now.

Years later, when my childish things were packed away in the attic,
I sat upon the park bench in my blue polka dot dress,
With shimmering locks cascading softly upon my collarbones.
And you told me I was your Mona Lisa.
You told me, “I will love you forever”.
I smiled
And promised I would do anything to make you happy.

But then you started coming home
With alcohol on your breath and wrath in your eyes.
And struck me for all the things I did wrong.
I said I was sorry,
Promised to do anything to make you happy.

But it was never enough.
You threw me upon the bed with fury glittering in your crimson orbs.
Took me with carnal lust
That never seemed to ease the hate.
And left me broken,
With blue fingerprints imprinted upon my porcelain skin.
— And never came back

Now, when people ask me why I never let my daughter play with dolls,
I reply:
Some things are better left in the box.
May 2014 · 9.2k
The Demons of Depression
KG May 2014
When people hear the word, depressed,
They visualize sullen teenagers dressed in black with slits on their wrists.
But, many fail to recognize,
That depression is not always a physical manifestation.
That most suffer in suffocating silence.

Depression is drowning in an ocean poisoned with your own thoughts.
Depression is the guarded prison of your mind with no means of escape.
Depression is the absence of love, the absence of light, and the absence of hope.

It envelops your mind with a blanket of darkness.
It taints your soul with unbearable numbness.
It reminds you every waking second that you are not good enough.

You’re worthless
You’re alone
YOU ARE NOTHING

………………………………………………………………………………………..


When people heard the word depressed,

They visualize attention seekers

But many fail to recognize depression does not stem from desire to be pitied.

That most want to create an illusion of happiness.

Depression is plastering a smile on your face everyday
And releasing a torrent of tears,
Cascading uncontrollably into your pillow every night.  

Depression is saying,
“I’m just tired”,
or
“I’m fine”
When someone asks if you’re okay.

But inside,

You are screaming desperately for help.
Yet you remain silent.

Because you are stronger than that.
Because you’re ashamed of yourself.
Because you think nobody would even care.

You are scared they will tell you


“You’re just looking for attention”

"That’s just life"

“Just be happy”

“You’re so ungrateful”

But, depression isn’t about seeking attention.
It is about waking up, pretending you are okay, and going back to sleep.
It is about isolating yourself from the world.
Closing the door, drawing the blinds, and crawling under the covers in a desperate attempt to shut them out.

Depression is when the greatest accomplishment of the day is mustering the strength to get out of the bed that cradles you in its safe cocoon.

That every morning you wake up, disappointment that you still exist.
Because life doesn’t seem worth living anymore.


Depression is chronic fatigue
Depression is the lack of motivation

Depression is complete and utter despair


Depression is regarded as a lack of personal strength

Depression is considered to be a weakness.

But depression is a real illness

And those who live in its suffocating grasp are the strongest of all.
Feb 2014 · 531
Forgotten
KG Feb 2014
I am not ready to
Let go,
Move on,
Forget.
I am afraid to be
Alone,
Discarded,
Forgotten,
By the one who
Freed my mind,
Saved my life,
And touched my heart.
Jan 2014 · 557
Kawa
KG Jan 2014
Water trickles through
The cracks and crevasses of
Ancient stone, carving
Fertile valleys, transforming
Barren landscapes. Bringing life.
Jan 2014 · 610
Spring
KG Jan 2014
Life*:
It buds
From winter's
Melting blanket
As gentle rain breathes
Life into newborn seeds.
Dewy blades sprout from waking
Earth, who rises from a timely
Slumber. And willow leaves dance to the
Fluttering melodies of the warm breeze.
First attempt to write an Etheree poem.
Dec 2013 · 641
Puppet on a String
KG Dec 2013
I am not your puppet
I am not your plaything
I am not a pawn in your game

I am human being

Treat me as such.
Dec 2013 · 756
Onstage
KG Dec 2013
I see the night sky
Illuminated by the brilliant stars
That are the stage lights.
Radiating from the epicenter
Like the sun,
I feel their soft rays on my face,
warm and nourishing.
Beyond,
The outside world
Enveloped in darkness.
The black expanse conceals onlookers,
But I can feel their presence.
Their energy infuses the air,
Every molecule heavy with anticipation.
The electric atmosphere fuels my passion.
Nov 2013 · 3.2k
Precious Moments
KG Nov 2013
Sometimes, we fail to take the time
To relish the little moments in life.
To watch the earthworm
Surface in early morning rain.
Or the spider
Spin its web.
We miss the summer leaves
Become a spectrum of colours in fall.
Forget to count the petals on a clover.
The insignifigant moments we tend to neglect,
Are the moments most precious.
Nov 2013 · 3.9k
I am a Knight (Riddle Poem)
KG Nov 2013
I am a knight,
Yet, I carry no sword, nor ride a sturdy stead.

My domed armour, an architectural wonder,
Its smooth curvature, my only defence.

Fragile, I withstand great force.
Unyielding, I surrender under pressure

When struck, I succumb to my inevitable fate.
Helpless as the enemy raids my stronghold.

Fractured, blood oozes from my gouging wound.
Shattered, surrounded by the fragments of my doomed existence.

Discarded, I am left, forgotten.
Nov 2013 · 4.9k
Mirror, Mirror
KG Nov 2013
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of the them all?*

Not you of course, your hair's a fright.
Those fuzzy strands are quite the sight.
Your lipstick’s smudged,
Your eyes too small,
You hardly resemble a model at all.
Your torso's too short,
Your ******* are too small,
Your thighs are too wide,
And your nose is too long.
But,
Before you start crying,
Or making a fuss,
Remember your eyes are not to be trust.
An image of beauty that you fail to see,
Is reflected directly in front of me.
My dear, I'm not lying,
It's as plain as can be.
A vision of beauty stands before me.
Nov 2013 · 1.2k
*Inkheart* Found Poem
KG Nov 2013
The books whisper,
Painting pictures in empty air.
Spinning a spell around the heart,
Sticky as a spider's web.

Preserved like fresh flowers,
Memories cling to the printed page.
Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells,
Left between the covers.

A thousand unknown stories,
Strange and familiar,
Terrible and beautiful,
Filling the silence with words.

Comforters,
Companions in loneliness,
Keepers of secrets,
Speakers of truth,

Words are immortal.
This found poem was inspired by favourite novel of all time: Inkheart. I first read it when I was 8 years old. This book instilled a love of writing within me and an obsession with the beauty of words and the power of stories. If you have not read this book, you must! Even today it remains my absolute favourite book. One that has literally defined the course of my life and gave me this passion for the written word. It is a powerful art that I am working each and everyday to craft.
Nov 2013 · 436
Time
KG Nov 2013
Time is the only constant.
The rhythmic,
Passing
Of each second,
Never misses a beat.
The steady,
Gentle,
              Tick,
                            Tick,
                                          Tick,
                                                         of the clock,
Continuous in the background
As we move through the motions of life.
Moment when seconds pass like hours
Moments when years pass like seconds.
Yet,
Time has not quickened nor slowed its pace,
For,
Time is constant.
Nov 2013 · 1.2k
Set me Free
KG Nov 2013
In solitude,
The illusion fades.
A haunting symphony
Fills the silence with sorrow.

Cloaked in darkness,
He comes.
Pale hands emerge from the shadows,
Caressing the shattered pieces of my existence.

Calm,
Soothing,
He whispers.
Soft breath lingers on my skin.

Sweet murmurs
Embrace me with promises.
To stop the hurt,
To stop the tears,

*To set me free.

— The End —