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Alice Woede Poem
I lie here waiting for the endless stream,
Hoping no black tiger dreams
Night came and went, comes and goes
No human comfort makes its show.
Black tiger scratches in my mind,
Hoping one day love he’ll find
But my supple mind has no love left to share;
Black tiger’s sharp claws meet air.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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Alice Woede Poem
The tiger lies in wait; he knows what happens now
As the sweat drips of his hunter's brow.
I run from my hunted hunter
From a hate that none can counter.
The sweaty hunter grabs the tiger’s tail;
Orange stripes slip away; he fails.
Black tiger runs forward
Relief interrupted, my soul toward.
He will catch me
I am not free
One hunter has failed
Black tiger will succeed.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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Alice Woede Poem
Your sighs bleached the cool air
Like so many fireflies,
As I told you it's not fair
And you ignored my lies
Because it was fair I knew
This was justice going on,
It was stones that I threw
Though I knew that I'd done wrong.
I shivered, my regrets making me cold
The snow was falling fast here
Where I struggled in your howling hold
Feeling my end was near.
I guess I got myself into this situation
A kind of self-inflicted karma,
I swore to protect an important relation,
I thought you couldn't harm her
I left her comforted by your melting sighs
We'd both decided you looked so nice,
But now you've got me and I swore I saw her eyes
As you tossed me after my sister straight through the ice.
We were walking but you stopped us
you were green we thought you warm,
you taught us how wrong we were to trust
In a fireflies flickering swarm.
How were we to know a storm would come
You seemed so calm and still,
But now the dark clouds have blocked out the sun
And you're primed and ready for the kill
It's cold here now in your grip
Trapped by your tree-root ties,
We both hang off your summits lip
Caught by a mountains treacherous sighs.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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Alice Woede Poem
hold it in your hand,
feel its perfect weight
its size tempting your hand to clutch it
feel the cool tingle from the pads of your palm to the tips of your finger tips;
refreshing your sense of touch.
leave finger prints in the condensation; it's yours now.
observe its deep colour:brighter, redder than blood fresh from your veins; almost as vital.
the world-wide known signature partially hidden by your thumb
the yellow band around the top of the cylinder saying: "multipack can-not to be sold separately"
you bought this can-single-for 55p from the corner shop;you smile whimsically at this familiar irony and crack the tab, revelling in the tinny-ness of the sound.
hold the opening up to your nose and breathe in the sweet air.
now wait, imagine the chill on your tongue, metal pressing against your lips, caramel bubbles trickling honey-like, slide down, calming your heart as you breathe with pure satisfaction.
have you anticipated this; anticipated the influence of your fix?
yes?
then finally you're ready; take a sip.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2011
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Alice Woede Poem
Oh to smash an hourglass
and watch it’s sandy insides
spill freely onto the table top of life.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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Alice Woede Poem
My brilliance is finite
Like my will to live,
I’m running out of light
as sand falls through a sieve.
And as a life i fail,
My wicked blood runs black,
A cautionary tale
In a second hand stack.
My cries will cause a flood,
Giving proof to my old fear,
That between the cracks seeps blood;
Even mad ones don’t come near.
For a shattered self repels
And a sorry self denies,
Mirrors show no parallels
And none reflect my cries.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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Alice Woede Poem
Bugs demolish my skin like the bark of a tree,
They burrow in, make their homes;
They’re using my own shell better than me.
I feel their will to live in each rough bite;
Not human, but hole-y nest of the termites.
I’ll allow them to use my body for their health,
Emotionally hollow, why not accept my true self?
Let my body be a temple that worships destruction;
And the priests? The six-legged who aided in its construction.
Sinners will pray to me i’ll be the worshipped defiled,
And to think that i was, as all, once an innocent child.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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Alice Woede Poem
She sits there in her golden gown
Weeping soft; without a sound
Body shaking, silent sobs;
Each rough hand has done its job.
Her skin is scratched her gown is torn;
Each dream she’ll wish she were not born.
Beads scattered, strewn across the floor;
Bare footed foes they’re waiting for
And they will prick who may come near
To their mistress and her dark fear,
And left unwanted in her seat
Their mistress tends her bleeding feet.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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Alice Woede Poem
Which way should I take?
When both lead to despair,
The sweet calm of the lake
Or ever-changing rush of air.
I want to stay right here
With the fish and my wrinkled toes,
Outside the air brings with it fear
And where it leads nobody knows.
But the lake is dark and deep
Disguising things I want to hide,
And should I, in my numbness, sleep
There’s less chance I’d wake as i would outside.
And on the bank there’s mud and dirt
And friends who’ll want to talk to me
And with my bad luck I might slip, get hurt;
I’d rather be numb; I’d rather stay free.
But now they’re screaming, calling out
And threatening to pull out the boat,
I try to sink, to drown their shouts
But something inside keeps me afloat
I sigh and slowly drift ashore
A smile freshly smeared on my face
I tell them I’m cold, they don’t ask me more,
I look back at the water; I feel out of place
Because there I was numb, as I’d swim and I’d dive,
Here I’m cold, wet and glum, but here I’m alive.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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Alice Woede Poem
Do not shine that fickle light
Intent on bleaching the truth from honest hearts
The ruling class of life shall come forth from the shadows
Bringing with it an eternity of blindness.
And blind to truth shall we fumble through the trials of love and devotion,
And in this harsh cruel light we shall fail.
Copyright © Alice Woede | Year Posted 2012
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