How long...

How long must you wait for someone to notice
who you are
what you are
where you are
before you realise they will not ever
know you
really know you
how long must you stand behind shade
skirts
partitions
like a small child—
cower
hide
before you are noticed for what you can offer
can do
can be
how long before your time is up
the boat has left the dock
the breeze blows the other way
your life has passed you by
and you have aged—
grey hair
no hair
no memory
how long before you stand up for you
have a voice that is loud
proud
strong
believing in yourself
your self worth
your talents
your values
your life
how long...

I will not

I will not run anymore
I will stand firm
hold my own
speak my mind
tell you where we stand
I will not hide anymore
I am strong
come full circle
to this point that I wish to be
I will not listen
to the songs
of yesterday
the songs
so out of tune
hurting my ears
making no sense
melody
tune
non existent
I will not talk
to you anymore
for all I want to say has been said
wasted breath
I know that now
I will not look at you anymore
your beauty blinds me
superficial beauty that barely runs skin dip
cosmetically enhanced
highlighted
retouched
covered up beauty
I will not
I will
not
I
will
not

Tarred

You can take a journey
on a road you've never travelled
take with you all things you may need
and even those you won't—

set out on a road
tarred
rough
and strewn with rocks
gravel
dust
blinding paths

all things—
many things

that will make your journey bumpy
along the way you'll meet
greet
characters
the likes you never thought so—
take heart
open mind
listen
laugh
it's all about the journey
the travels

the road that leads you
to the future
an undiscovered part of you
just waiting

Pandora's box

Fashioned from the soil
the first woman—
adorned with beauty
and deception
laden with a gift—
Epimetheus beware
inquisitive by nature
it was all too much—
evil
illness released
only hope
our only hope—
embedded in a wall of stone
tarnished
inscribed
in a small crevice
the last hope
encapsulated
human nature
what we have left

 

I used to know you

I used to know you
once, long ago
we'd sit and chat
about the world
sing songs
so out of tune, we'd scare the birds
play dress-ups in your grandmother's clothes
we'd laugh as the smell of camphor
would fill our noses
and make us cough—
I used to know you
quite a long way back
we'd dance in the kitchen
while you're mother made us
deliciously sticky sweet treats
which we would eat, until bellies full
we'd lay on the grass outside
watch the clouds
shapes we thought
and laugh until the tears would roll
down
down
our cheeks
and we could not breathe
I used to know you...

The freedom of being

The freedom of being a child
a reckless abandonment
shrieking—
with excitement
with trepidation
swinging high
on a playground swing
feet in the air—
watch me Mummy, I can touch the sky
daring,
daring to let go—
just with one hand
one finger poised
slightly crooked—
I’ve done it Mummy
I touched a cloud
did you see me Mummy
a toothless grin
bottle youth
this is the best time
no thought for tomorrow
stay here
stay as long as you can—
suspended in this time
until it is no more

What am I?

I am light
I am shade
I am the in-between
that comes
at sunrise
sunset
I am your agony
your pain
I am your salvation
your damnation
the one that will bring you down
I am your all
your only
your nothing
your refuse—
tossed aside
like rot
I am your threat
your comfort
I hold you close
embraced
I am your solitude
your escape—
I am

The age of subordination

The age of electronic
subordination
of rules
regulations
time
and lack of—
time
always
on time
out of time
stringent
determination
organised
chaos
all the while
hand on phone
on pods
on gadgets—
Heaven help
should we forget
that blessed gadget that reigns supreme
pandemonium
all hell broken loose
how to function—
how will we communicate
for that hour,
God forbid two
that we are away—
the world will end—
without my phone,
don’t you understand!

Weak

I am the epitome of self-giving
I give and give
until there is nothing more to give
and I am a shrivelled mess—
and even then
I manage to find a little ounce
of giving to squeeze out—
I am no martyr
there is no broken mould
from where I came—
I have faults like any other
I am jealous
weak—
on many levels
I am far
far
far
from perfect
I am the first to admit
yet I will give gladly
with all my heart
all my being
to see satisfied looks—
heartfelt smiles
genuine bliss
this is my downfall
I will conclude
when things are beyond me
cannot be soothed
settled
sorted—
this
is
me

A short story

Did she cry—
call for help
beg for mercy
or lay mute
in my head
she knew it was the end
never could leave her mark
and find her way out
destiny
predetermined
it was written
long before she even knew it
saw it coming—
do you think
I hope not
eyes closed
oblivious
a surprise
ended quick
give her some
dignity
sanity
peace
I hope
that it hadn’t happened
at all
wouldn’t feel the need then
to think
wonder
question
why—
but why
does it keep me up at night
makes me break into a sweat
in the cold
makes my palms clench
sweat
nails dig into my hands
I cannot help—
could not help
useless beings
audience
was there
I hope not
know not
wish not—
but always that incessant
why—
but why

A tale of an ugly duckling

Left behind to ponder fate
alone
afraid
I am discarded
my feathers are not preened
or pretty
or primped
as the others
Mother said
time
patience
but—
I will flourish
find my way
unguided
unloved
forgotten
you will see—
feathers preened
white
plumes
graceful
I am
I have arrived
Mother dearest
see me now
no longer
the ugly one
a Cinderella
right
before your eyes
an ugly duckling
no longer
but a princess in the lake

Time changes nothing

Passive resistance
colour determines
wealth
determines
stature
determines
life—
civil obedience
until it gets too much
who determines
what is determined
how and
why—
draft riots
gathered in number
stand united
target same
government suits
black
white shirt
colour-less
soul-less
heart-less
and less
selective service
doors close
based on nothing of imporance
because of
power
greed
ego
times changes nothing

In my head

In my head
I am powerful
intelligent
I live for the moment
I seize every opportunity—
take what's mine
give freely
in my own head
in my dreams
I dream
and regress
and float
and feel carefree
I am without regret
in my own head
the world is at peace
at one
united
and loving
giving freely
smiling
courageous acts
merciful acts
at one with our surroundings
in my head
the future is pure
children safe
madness
chaos
do not exist
in my head
everyone has a purpose
everyone lives
free
safe
happy

Imagine

Imagine a world with
words floating
floating through the sky
on a string
floating free
bubble
bursting
falling—
Imagine a world with
meaningless words
double edged words
heavy
solemn
hurtful words—
Imagine a world
without words
standing mute
silent—nothing
no
sweet
kind
comforting words—
Imagine

A soldiers life

Soldier
suited
gagged
presented
stated
sadly
at a loss
with himself
at the world
standing at a crossroad
waiting
wondering
praying
in angst
with himself
with the world
lonely
lost
leaden
thinks of home
thinks of the world
waiting
always waiting
forever waiting
til the end

A girl's life

Once upon a time
a girl lived
but did not breathe
she grew
but did not
flourish
she wed
but did not love
had a baby—
a girl
but was afraid
that she would be forced
to live
not breathe
grow
not flourish
wed
not love
die
without hope
a circle that would never be broken
so she prayed
for change
for life
for hope
for sanity
for herself
and for all those
just like herself

When...

When will I be me
when will I sit and think
of all the things I've done
and think
I've made it
know that who I am
I was meant to be
what I want
I deserve to have
know what I do
is right
for me
when will I come into my own
when will I come through
when it seems all too hard—
sometimes
most times
all the time
what will I have to say
to prove that what I have to say
means just as much as what you do—
what happens if I don't find me
will somebody...

My head

My head wants to explode
I count to ten—
get to three,
get distracted
start again
get to five
distracted
I'm going to flip it
I'm going to lose it
three
ignore
four
go away
five
leave
six
here it comes—
arghhhhhhh
my head wants to explode
I count to ten—
by twos
much better

Midnight train

Dance with me
come—
we'll scatter a sea of stars
in the raven sky
and tap our feet in tune with the wind
wait for the midnight train
grey carriages
grey clouds—
soft
slow
I sink—
safe from up here
disco moon
shines silver
light up the night
take me far
forgotten how to dream
yet here I am

In an age

In an age ago
I sat small and wished big
wanted rainbows and ponies
and ribbons in my hair
bobby socks and
black patent mary-janes
but that was an age ago—
barely remember the time
that day became today
I am big, yet wish I am small
I want halos and garlands
and daisies and freedom
love and laughter
and dreams to come true
but night sets in
stars shine
and the moon plays its part—
and tomorrow brings
me smaller
and smaller
until I am no more

Mother mine

Mother Nature
wonderous
graceful being—
hurting
shedding
tears
floods of tears
hear her pain—
yet we don't
destruction
willful damage
in abundance
disrespect
disinterest
for a home
not ours to keep
clearing
clearing
land
forests
habitats—
our time fleeting
yet our mark stamped
for those to come after us—
if it still exists

Abandoned

Born into a wet world
harsh
motherless world
wrapped in an old hessian sack
gasp for air
fill my lungs
dark—
so dark
hurled into the air—
is this life
I wait
small heart
gallops
small sound
I whimper
yet do not know what is happening
to me—
mother, where are you
what happened
taken suddenly from you
I cry
for me
and for all those like me
hessian sack
closing in
I have no air left to breathe
I am tired
to close my eyes
forever in this world I’ve yet to see
destiny is this
eternal sleep
then darkness

Our children

Children raised for higher purpose
beings of the greater world
life—
held in our palm
dictated by a faceless voice
when deathly hollows wait
below
to gather the refuse
debris
of a lesser child
we will weep
and ponder
retrace the steps we took
and those before us took
to get to where we are now
and hope it’s not too late
our protest not in vain
when we know
inevitably —
it is
it was
and it forever this way shall be

On the end

I'd like to think, when I die
the rivers would fill
from tears that flow
the sun would sit in permanent darkness
beneath the moon and the underworld—
I'd float through the sky,
as a ghost
a spirit
an eternity
and cast my eyes
on the trees, that struggle to find their footing
from the land that became barren
from the animals that followed me—
I'd like to think, when I die
I'd be more than a memory
a photo
or thought
anecdote, but—
a thing that had left
a lasting impression
some knowledge
or feeling
of what life meant to me

Things decided

We laughed together
fell in love together
and cried together
never saw the pain come
only felt it when it arrived
came at us like a rocket
shattered us—
broke our hearts
never thought we could piece it back together
only saw the debris
strewn across the way
the road ahead was blocked
never thought to find an alternate
way
somewhere else to go
held onto all we knew
for as long as we could
and when it hurt too much
we decided—
you decided to let it go
made your way through the rubbish
through the broken bits
of everything we ever knew—
found a path
overgrown and in the opposite direction
but you took it anyway
and you found
it was your path
a different path than me

The why of life

Why does the sun shine
the moon have many faces
the grass grow
green
rain fall
waves roll
tide comes and goes
sand gets in everywhere
why—
do people fall in love
fall out of love
hate
die
get ill
hurt—
themselves
someone else
animals
when will
times change
people change
things change—
forgiveness becomes the most important thing
pain is abolished
war
illness
bad—
things
people
thoughts
cease to exist...

In a moment

The world rushes by-
in a whirl of colour
flashes
snippets
of a conversation
of a movement
gesture—
sometimes
in a haze
of black and white
grey a shade in between
highlight points that are—were
of interest to someone,
anyone,
or no one—
take a moment,
a snap shot
what is there left,
an old exposed film of my life
obsolete
irrelevant
uninteresting

Roses—just once

Lonely is the woman—
who sits in an old wicker chair
on her porch,
in winter with a crochet blanket atop her knees
lonely woman—
strains her neck
watching every car that passes
every single car
watches and waits
and hopes,
it will stop
by her house
patiently waits
 a smile spreads across her face
when,
one slows down—
she sits up,
that little bit straighter
that little bit more determined
then shrinks back down,
when it continues on its way
cruel fate
leaves her all alone
on special days
they'll come
with a wilted poses of daisies
or carnations,
Mother's day—chrysanthemums
but she's not dead—
not yet,
don't they know,
chrysanthemums are for the dead,
carnations too
and daisies, well
she has her own in the garden
this is what her life has come to
this is what she waits for
roses—
just once