She drew paintings
many could not understand
Her body being her ever changing canvas
The cruel world her muse
She drew paintings
many could not understand
Her hands in constant use
ticking like a time bomb
Barrelling towards its last fuse
Leaving a gaping bruise
She drew paintings
many could not understand
NO one could confuse nor refuse
Much less excuse
Her eminent abuse
Soaked and drenched in red hues
She drew paintings
Even she could not understand
She had nothing to lose
When the world chose their views
Hate was infused
And now she was gone too.
Categories:
barrelling, abuse, dark, death, suicide,
Form: Rhyme
There must be something
to hang onto amid this turmoil,
a small, flickering light at the end
of the dark to guide the way
or even a gentle nudge by some
caring angel to help right
a straying foot balanced
on a ledge.
But put your hand out
and there is only air.
That light ahead is the 8.30
barrelling through the underground
towards you. And the nudge
you feel is from the person
next to you in the carriage
as you tip half asleep
into the sanctity
of his private space.
That is not to say
there is nothing there,
but if there is, it is to be found
in ordinary things, the human,
the frail and the chaos
that sometimes careers
through each anxious life.
It must encompass
all that is unfair, the hurt
and the healing,
to speak in the sounds
and the silence
that is everywhere,
to curl around
a frightened soul
without letting you know
that it's there.
Categories:
barrelling, angel, life, light,
Form: Free verse
Barrelling along, squealing tyres evades
disruptive thoughts carousing
through my unconscious mind
Jerk awakening, with relief, to pearlescent moon
Still there, filtering images of you, as before
Silly, happy, sad, lovingly embrace my heart
Sleepy eyed, I extend my arm to feel
nothing, empty space beside me
Gone again, where, how long, how far
Howling wind lifts the curtains you made
Their fragility reminds me of your femininity
Loving thoughts caresses imbues our souls imprint
To peel you away now terrifies
the crimped pain of losing you each eventide
Is washed clean away by the tidal surf
against the cabin steps where once
was glorified by your presence
The thrum of raindrops hitting black agate rocks
amongst the jagged seaweed tang
Recollections abounds to plumb the very depths of my feral heart
Date 3/15/21
Categories:
barrelling, heartbreak,
Form: Free verse
Like the eye of a storm,
Barrelling through.
When the eye makes it's entrance,
The sky turns blue.
Just for a minute or two,
All is calm and bright.
Then reality hits with all its might.
Don't let storms destroy your life.
They're everywhere, so don't try to hide
Just board up your windows and hold on tight,
And surely you can weather the tide.
Categories:
barrelling, faith, life, nature,
Form: I do not know?