And your kingdom come is mine left undone.
Like oil against water, a ladder with black cat,
is this passion or an anxiety attack?
Vampiric pale skin craves darkness in spades,
homophones trick spellings, “…she cleans to impress the maid”,
and your kingdom come shimmers where mine will fade.
One man’s rubbish is to black magpie treasure shining white,
through moss, mulch and mud sows snuffle truffles, a tempting bite.
Your kingdom come sees mine as blemish and blight:
when I wake in the morning and wish it be night,
content in loneliness but hope still for someone in sight.
Your kingdom found became my kingdom dropped,
even these rhyming jigsaws don’t always fit my refrain.
Your kingdom come and kingdom arrived and kingdom gold
your kingdom brave and kingdom holy and kingdom bold,
is foil for my kingdom came and kingdom went and kingdom past
my kingdom old and kingdom rusted and kingdom last.
Your kingdom come is nothing like mine - left undone.
Or maybe, your kingdom come is mine fatigued and just… done.
“…don’t fear the reaper,” he said, and I don’t. Why would I?
Categories:
jigsaws, analogy,
Form: Rhyme
Born in Glasgow on 15th January 1994,
Lived in Bishopbriggs, East Dunbartonshire my entire life.
Started Primary School aged four,
Diagnosed with Auditory Processing Disorder aged seven or eight.
Started High School aged eleven,
School merger aged twelve.
New school building aged fifteen,
Started College aged seventeen.
In my spare time I like to ride horses,
I have been doing this for ten years.
I attended a children’s dance school for eighteen years,
And started adults’ ballet six months ago.
I also enjoy researching my family history,
And volunteer in a coffee shop while between jobs.
I am also a Girls’ Brigade Leader,
And enjoy doing jigsaws.
I have one older brother who doesn’t act his age,
Eight cousins, one is a trained actor.
I have one cat, a sixteen year old called Bonnie,
Had other pets in the past.
I am a Disney fan, my favourite princess is Belle,
And love to bake, mostly cupcakes.
I love seafood, especially calamari.
Although I have an Auditory Processing Disorder,
I can do most things.
Some people don’t believe that, they don’t see the real me.
20/08/21
Categories:
jigsaws, self,
Form: Bio
We call it love - this hidden orchard path
twilit figs have fallen near
to rest, where we stroll and speak and listen
‘til the fruit is sapped, youthful sins confessed
bundled with twigs, themselves detached
resembling branches with complimentary
scars left groping floor-shadows:
those of lustful hop-scotch-jigsaws;
those of the faint whimper heard in morning
as fresh fades to rot; of dawn-kissed figs molting;
of a daughter crying
to the barren nursery while mother
plans forever unaffordable furnishings.
We call it love - this lonely
strip-mall path followed, leading
to just another lost-in-the mail acceptance letter
to just another
lost-in-the-scuffle’s
paternal subjugate,
with love.
Categories:
jigsaws, love hurts,
Form: Free verse
Time to brush your teeth you two, its nearly time for bed,
just five more minutes please mum, we can't find barbies head!
I sigh and climb the stairs again, so scared of what i'll find,
yes! i thought so! a tornado hit, leaving devistation behind.
Toys, crayons and jigsaws lay scattered on the floor,
dress up clothes disregarded, not used for fantasy no more,
my best heels and make up scattered on the bed,
the lipstick on the covers a vibrant shade of red!
We tidy up a little bit, at least we see the floor,
we locate barbies lovely head, hanging from the wardrobe door!
I carry on with courage and put everything in its place,
"come on girls help me please" as we start the tidy up race.
It looks a lot more cleaner as everything goes back in its box,
"oh no whats that smell" i found a pair of smelly socks!
At last the room is tidy and everything is in its place,
"time to brush your teeth now girls, and clean that mucky face"
As I tuck you both into bed i feel my heart soar,
yes there is madness in this house of mine
from the kids that i adore.
Categories:
jigsaws, family, fun,
Form: Lyric
So much for my ideas of slowing down,
Taking it easy just sitting watching TV.
I moved to a peaceful seaside town,
Since then I have found a few things occupy me.
I play bridge at least three times every week,
Read poems with a group on Thursday afternoons,
For extra fun I can find anything I seek
And I can write about it and put it to tunes.
On Tuesday mornings I see my four men
In the U3A song writing group that I run.
They compose their music on my key board and then
I write some words and another song has begun.
The women visit Fridays. We have fun,
Writing rhymes, banging bongos, blow didgeridoos,
Each week there are many things waiting to be done
Bells to shake, guitars to play, so much to choose.
Hairdressers, library, lots of jigsaws to do,
Trips to town, trips to do weekly shopping,
Mah-jong, Scrabble, flower arranging, cooking too,
Tea dances, line dancing from foot to foot hopping.
Each week at the local coffee morning
I get to hear about all that is being planned,
There’s knitting, card making, keep fit and it’s dawning
NO TIME FOR TV I’m too busy, understand!
Categories:
jigsaws, age, community, guitar, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
we thread together
all moments of life
looking for a pretty
quilt to display
but some patches
are misplaced
we overlook those
a missewn piece
some edges frayed
yet all the imperfections
all the dog-eared pages of
life give character
to each story
the ragged sentences
strewn together form paragraphs
and paragraphs are knitted into chapters
chapters into books
great museums and galleries
do not showcase tangled branches
of families pulling up chairs
and arguing at tables
the candles burned
the laughter
the heartaches
the embraces
those landmarks of
life and death are misfit
like jigsaws with lost pieces
sometimes we are swept up
in thoughts that drift away
and leave scars
we slip on tears and
are spoon fed air
leaving us empty like
promises that glide away
into hollow futures
let the scars shine like badges
trophies to unsung heroes
let the ruby slippers take you home
to watch winter sunsets
to unwrap Christmas sweaters
and rock babies to sleep
for they are the new chapters
stitch together all the torn rags
and colorful fabrics to make
keepsakes of your own
Categories:
jigsaws, celebration, encouraging, family, home,
Form: Free verse
each and every situations in life
happiness sorrow pain and strife
forget slowly with the force of time
but few of them stands as prime
where’s the rhythm? Oh! The life
want to play a perfect fife
feel in self through the throng
of all ups and downs with bong
though many of them are not traced
but with few jigsaws are embraced
Categories:
jigsaws, life, mystery,
Form: Rhyme
I'm blindfolded
I can see nothing
I don't know how I got here
Where ever here is
I taste blood
I hear nothing
My heart racing in my chest
There is pain in my hands and legs
I feel weight on my head
Heavy weight
The pain is more severe now
I turn my head
But it doesn't help
I still can't see
I scream out "HELP!"
There is no reply
My body hurts so badly
I try to get up
But the pain is so bad a scream with pain
I know something is in my hands and legs
Then I feel the lights in the room come on
My blindfold comes off
I look around me
I'm in a dirty room
I'm sitting in a dentist chair
I look down
My hands have metal poles stabbed through them
And the same with my legs
I can't move
The pain is too much
I see my head is in a metal set
With bars in front of my eyes
"What is this?" I ask myself
Then I hear a sound of static
Then a strange sounding voice says my name
"Amy, Let’s play a game"
I know what this is now
Jigsaws game
Categories:
jigsaws, death, fantasy, pain,
Form: Free verse
A thousand jigsaws is how id describe,
the many personalitys ive used to hide,
The one who's allways full of fear,
The one who's scared to shed a tear,
The one who will allways act real tough,
The one who's allways had enough,
The one who will run from responcability,
The one who will blame others negativity,
The one who's allways life and sole,
The one who's allways on the doal,
The one who drinks to block a feeling,
The one who's out wheeling and dealing,
The one who'll allways dramatise,
The one who'll allways appoligise,
The one who'll lie,rob and steal,
The one who'll give up his last meal,
The one who'll allways run away,
The one who'll allways fight and stay,
The one who'll be easily led,
The one who'll rather stay in bed,
The one who's allways fun and witty,
The one who's allways in doubt and self pity.
Categories:
jigsaws, life,
Form: Rhyme
even with all of your flaws
all i see is you
tho im puzzled like jigsaws
what you show me's true
never want to let you go
even when we try
never been able to so...
never say goodbye
Categories:
jigsaws, love
Form: Rhyme
It rolled my cheek and fell, I caught it in the
palm of my hand, it sat gentle, fragile, full of
memories. Good, bad, indifferent, joyous
times, sorrow, angst, war, death and hatred,
swirling with no path to follow. I saw blood,
suffering, greed and the clock face, never a
friend of mine. Love was there humbled by
broken promises and bitter sweet words. At
the base of the tear were jigsaws, pieces
missing, dormant answers never to be found.
There were also cloudy areas, they provided
the dark places for doubt and mistrust to hide.
From the clouds came rain, allowing me to
wash my hands of responsibility. Before a
cross a man knelt in prayer, his voice drowned
in a mass of silence. And in the mistiness of the
tear floated joy, fragmented memories, would
they, could they be harvested again. So much
held by this fragile form, as it spills from
careless fingertips, I ask in what form this tear
was shed.
Categories:
jigsaws, life
Form: Narrative
Love be a sacrifice on altars of ideals,
A communion with the dreams of someone;
Love be a sharing of how loving feels,
A grand leap of faith to the heart of the sun.
Love be a high on a peak of euphoria,
Or drop to the depths of a fathomless pit;
Love be a vividly fixed moratoria,
Emotional jigsaws that don't always fit.
Love be a snowfall of virginal whiteness,
The fresh morning dew on the first day of spring;
Love be the sky in a summer of brightness
Or cold autumn half-light, grey and fading.
Love be a holy crusader on earth,
A despotic tyrant who spares not the rod;
Love be the cry of an infant at birth,
The passport to heaven, the right hand of God.
Love be a puzzle, a box of surprises,
An instant of wonder to last evermore;
Love be a collage of glorious devices,
A certain uncertainty, sure yet unsure.
Love be whatever means most in existence,
Sometimes familiar, ambiguous or new;
Love be subjective, so hence my insistence:
Love be whatever...whatever be you.
Categories:
jigsaws, love, autumn,
Form: Verse