Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I've always searched for a home
a place I belonged, where I felt safe

I've never experienced this kind of home

but as I sit still each morning listening to my breath,
I am coming home to myself as I settle into a
silence of heart and mind
an interior home of the heart that's always with me
 Oct 2014 Westbow
K Balachandran
Within the blue expanses of your left eye
I see colossal expanding galaxies
white dwarfs, black holes and exploding super novae
vie with one another in the other eye,
expansion and contraction are created by your winks
to complete the picture of a universe without an end
oh! mother of everything, this wayward son is
only a spec, he dreams your vision, conjuring up immortality,
he traverses through labyrinths non existent
in the outer space, in his fragile space craft to reach
the galaxy in the shape of your heart,
this is all I can hope in my interstellar voyage
now undertaken, with my heart drumming
as the back ground score.
 Jan 2014 Westbow
Megan
I believe that every time
we go to sleep
we die.
that dreams are heaven,
and nightmares are hell
and we wake again each day
with a restarted heart.
but those who die while sleeping,
either have been trapped
or have found their heaven.
but we never know
do we?
 Jan 2014 Westbow
Terry Collett
Under the railway bridge
in Rockingham Street
where the steam trains
go by overhead

quite frequently
going to somewhere else
by Baldy's
the grocer's store

where you get merchandise
quite often
for your mother
you sat with Janice

waiting to have
your hair cut
(your mother sent her
with you

to make sure
it was done right)
she had her
red beret on

the fair hair
flowing from beneath
her bright eyes
and straight white teeth

when we marry
she said
(why do girls do that
to a kid of 8?

at 9 maybe
that's fine
why spoil his day
with wedding days

and such?)
shall I wear
cream or a white dress?
(cream would be better

than white
make her look
less pale
more quaint

make her look
less likely to faint)
cream'd be good
you said

and what about my bouquet?
what flowers
should I have?
(God knows

you mused
I know nothing
of such things
whatever

the flower guy brings)
I don't know
flower names
you choose

you said
she smiled
and nodded her head
who will be

your best man?
she asked
Carmody or Jupp​?
you said

she didn't
look impressed
or Jim?
you added

he'll do
she said
(why ask you?)
you liked the way

her eyes went wide
at the mention
of Jim
(did she fancy him?)

and the way she leaned
her head to one side
when you said
cream to the colour of dress

(to you
it was a thing
to keep from life
and head

it would seem
but to her
it was a dream)
but who

will give me away?
she said
my Daddy's dead
and mother too

would my old man do?
you said
but she shook her head
(wise kid you thought)

Gran may
if she's not too old
she added
looking straight ahead

or too ill or dead
my brother could
if he's old enough then
(many years hence

you hoped)
a boy amongst men
you said
she just smiled

and gave nod of head
and how many kids
shall we have?
she asked

(why ask me
you thought
how many there'd be?)
two or three?

you said
or more
she suggested
gazing at the barber

who was finishing off
a middle-aged man
with a comb and mirror
wearing a smile

who's next?
he asked
taking off the cape
from the man

he is
Janice said
pointing to you
and a short back

and sides
his mother said
Janice added
the barber nodded you

to the chair
and you sat there
gazing at Janice
in the mirror

imagining her
as a bride in white
or cream
on some one's arm

coming down the aisle
with her smile
but not tomorrow
or next year

or after that
but off
some where
in quite awhile.
A BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON AND A WEDDING.
 Jan 2014 Westbow
Mikaila
Persephone
 Jan 2014 Westbow
Mikaila
It's gonna get colder when you leave.
The ground will harden
And the trees will sleep
And the world
Will wait.
Underneath the snow,
Life
Will wait.
The wind will search for you in every face
Biting and frantic
But find nothing,
And in despair crack across the ground like a whip
Stirring up little ghostly eddies of ice crystals.
The snow will catch the branches and drag them down
Asking
Why the silence,
This year?
None of that summertime laughter
To light up the ice and make it sparkle.
The days will pull darkness around them like a thick coat
And slink by
In a hurry to be elsewhere,
Still too long, and too strange.

And then
Just when we've all almost given up,
Winter will soften, just a bit.
The rains will come, like a good cry you've been holding your breath against
For months,
And the snow will wash away
And the ground will be ugly and scarred,
But bare at last,
And the land will begin
Slowly
To bloom
In anticipation of your footsteps there.

The sun will hold its line in the battle against the night
For just a sliver longer every day.
The first flowers will shoot up through
The last little patches of snow,
Light green and fragile.
The world will wake
Yawn and stretch,
Is she back yet?
Is she here?
The cherry blossoms on the tree in my backyard will unfurl
White and delicate and frothy on tough, leathery branches
And we will all see that maybe
Everything is going to be alright
After all.

Is she back yet?
Is she here?
And summer will stroll in, laughing,
The moment you set foot on this soil again.
 Oct 2013 Westbow
lydia
We had Indian food that night. And you said you liked it even
though you didn’t finish your meal. I sat next to you and
watched football even though I had homework to do. I moved my feet
to fit under your legs and hoped that the touch was stirring feelings in you like it to me.
When I looked out of the corner of my eye,
you weren’t staring at me like you normally did. And when our knees touched
you didn’t look me in the eye. I think I knew things were different
when your face didn’t light up when you saw me; when I could feel your heart race
when she texted you, but not when I smiled at you. I don’t have the right to feel these things,
but it doesn’t mean I don’t.
we haven’t spoken in twenty two hours and every second
you’re not around I feel like I’m being held under water and am
choking on my own breath. This isn’t a break up but all I feel
is you letting me go and me letting it happen.
“I just want to kiss you and make all the pain go away.”
I may not be her but I am me and I really want that to be enough.
I am here waiting even though you told me not to.
I am here waiting to pick up all the little pieces of you and fit them into all the missing pieces of me.
That day you held my hand and said it felt right,
I’m sorry I didn’t answer; I’m sorry I let your words hang in the air and then fall to the ground.
This is me trying to show you how I feel, in a poem you’ll never see.

I want to sit next to you on this couch and watch King of the Hill.
I want our knees touch and to belong to each other like they had for so long.
I want to feel all the emotion you have to give that I was once so scared of.
This is me trying to show you how I feel, in a poem you’ll never see.
Next page