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Category Archives: Poetry

Wrinkled hands reach for a sepia photograph
The same story is told again
To this stranger who has come to introduce herself.
The tale of a life, creating life,
Which, in turn created new life.
And there the story ends,
With a granddaughter,
Ten years old.
The stranger that was there throughout,
Unbeknownst to you
Who sits in the chair beside you,
Twenty years old,
Listening to your tales
Like an old familiar record.
There are silent tears in the eyes of this stranger
And as you smile happily at your brand new friend,
You cannot understand why.
“It was lovely to meet you my dear,
You really must visit again soon…”

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I felt guilt
For traits of mine that showed in you.
And I wish I hadn’t passed them on.
I felt pride
When you stood up for what you believed in.
But I wish that I had done the same.
I felt pain
When you cried over bullies at school.
But I wish I could have taught you that they just didn’t matter.
I felt joy
When you climbed higher than me.
But I wish that I’d tried harder.
I look forward
To the day you give me grandchildren.
Because I know you’ll do a better job than I ever did.

Fear breeds hatred.
That is the truth of it.
A human reaction,
But one that makes us weak.
How can evil be silenced
If no one has courage to speak?
How can we open our hearts
When we shut ourselves off with barriers?
How can we love
With hearts filled with hate?
When blame is showered down
Like acid rain,
It is not just the guilty that are burned,
But those who were standing
In the wrong place
At the wrong time.
Stand tall,
Stay strong,
Unite,
Love.
Always love.

Did I plot the end of your time together?
No Ma’am, I did not.
You ended it yourself
With the choices you made.
If talking to friends is a terrible crime,
Then lock me away,
Throw away the keys,
Leave me to starve.
For life without friends is lonely
And loneliness is killer in itself.

Did I make him choose?
No Ma’am I did not.
If you wish to blame me,
Then we’re guilty in equal measure.
You for emptying his glass,
Me, for filling it again.
And the accusing stares,
The vicious comments,
The petty behaviour,
All served a purpose in the end.

The outcome wasn’t what you wished,
But foreseeable? Oh yes.
In trying to pull him closer,
You suffocated.
In speaking with me,
Laughing with me,
Breathing with me,
The colour came back to his face.

You can keep a man as prisoner,
But he’ll never worship the judge that put him there.

The public place,
Your jigsaw face,
The tears you try to hide.
The callous stares
From perfect pairs
Of eyes that harshly spied.
I wish they see
What I can see
When my eyes meet your face,
The girl with smiles
That stretch for miles
Who married me in lace.
The girl who sings
Of happy things
Who did until the crash.
When all we knew
Was flashing blue,
And nothing more than ash.
But still I stand,
I take your hand,
We break free from those bars
I’ll never go
Or sink so low
I love you and your scars.

The sky has finally won its battle
Against the misty sickness
And frosty infection
That strikes her every year.
Friends, unseen for many moons,
Emerge with heavy eyelids.
A new generation of ecology
Takes its first steps into an unforgiving world,
Fluttering, crawling, slithering, paddling.
Just growing.
And a hemisphere that seemed to be in suspended animation
Begins to burst to life once more.

I knew it was time.
I knew it was time,
From the moment you looked silently up into my eyes,
Communicating.
Enough, you said.
Stop this now.
Counting your final minutes.
Waiting for the time to leave.
Minutes passed.
I loaded you gently into the car,
One final time.
You knew.
The cries and wails that usually pierced through my eardrums
And my heart,
Were silent.
But that silence cut me deeper than the cries ever could.
As I looked into your eyes
And watched the light fade from them,
I felt you saying,
Thank you.
I now know the truth:
Sometimes the right choices
Are the hardest and most painful to make.

I know every inch of you.
I spent my youth racing around in your veins,
I heard the echoes of your previous days.
There are scars on your face,
Scratched on by parasites, desperate
To leave their mark.
There are tales,
Tales of your past,
So heavily embroidered upon,
No one knows the truth anymore.
Except you.
But I find you keep such secrets to yourself.
Yet as I trace your veins once more,
In the early hours, before the world awakens,
I see the shadows of those secrets,
Still bound to walk my way.
They do not sense me,
For how how can you sense that
Which does not yet exist?

The worst part is,
I see your pain.
I see those mornings on your train,
Excusing tears that fall on cheeks,
You blame it on the rain.

The worst part is,
I hear you cry.
At night you lay awake and sigh
Weeping, sobbing for a son
That never said goodbye.

The worst part is,
You pray for me,
That I may move on finally,
It hasn’t happened, here I stay,
Forever here to be.

The worst part is,
Your strength is sapped,
Although your future isn’t mapped,
You remain and so do I,
Forever here, I’m trapped.

Sheets shift.
You thrash wildly in hot, sweat-drenched linen,
Sloshed in a tempestuous, tormenting ocean.
Your inward screaming is merely outward whimpering.
Predators glide towards you, mercilessly, eyes of ice staring, freezing you.
You beg for rescue.
You beg for absolution.
You beg for anyone to come to your aid.
Suddenly you realise that when you are trapped in your mind,
The only person who can save you
Is yourself.
The sea calms,
The sky clears,
The predators slip away.
You are free
To simply be, to drift.