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Gail Gilbride Bohle Poem
Eleven
Sad heart breaks in two.
A walk with pain, sorrow, death,
unbearable pain.
Daddy snatched away from her.
Scared, defenceless, eleven.
Copyright © Gail Gilbride Bohle | Year Posted 2014
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Gail Gilbride Bohle Poem
A stranger passing Gail Gilbride
A stranger passing would never notice
the colour of fynbos
and wild raw woundedness of grief
foaming in a back corner.
By Sandra Hill
Curled up
hugging my body
huge well of grief.
The bubble protects me
with its golden light.
Swirling body of pain
heart-wrenching wrongs
unspeakable accusations
from a feverish jealous godless mind.
A stranger passing would never notice
my escape. The shy deer treads softly.
Gentle eyes make careful contact
as I turn swiftly follow him
my gipsy skirt flimsy
my body firm intact.
In nature untamed
colours glisten
the colour of fynbos.
Words fly in the ether
still find their way to my ears
thrust the unspeakable upon me
wielding evil power against me
wounding fatally.
Every fibre rebels.
I reach up snatch those words
try to assuage
the wild raw woundedness of grief.
And even here
where the shy deer treads
and all is snow covered
pristine innocent-seeming
I wait.
I know they will find me.
There is no escape when
a veneer of civilization covers
barbaric cruel hearts
foaming in a back corner.
Copyright © Gail Gilbride Bohle | Year Posted 2014
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Gail Gilbride Bohle Poem
Truth must out!
Truth must out should out needs out
my solar plexus moans.
It puffs and warns and tells and shows
unspoken truths must out!
My voice is gentle soft and true
but still it’s stuck and groans.
Truth must out should out needs out,
or it will turn to stone.
Words twist and twirl and stay unsaid.
The poison settles here.
It settles down and swirls and turns,
until truth’s barely there.
“Stuck! Stuck!” truth cries.
It can’t come out,
it hardly knows it’s there.
Uncertain truth now settles in,
it muddles, squirms and stares.
The truth must out should out needs out.
There is no other way!
Gentle, humble, firm and sure,
the truth must out.
By Gail Gilbride
Copyright © Gail Gilbride Bohle | Year Posted 2014
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Gail Gilbride Bohle Poem
Travel through
Travel through your own mud.
Dig down –
don’t be afraid.
Tramp through.
Layer of skin below,
scratched and wet.
No ego, no agenda.
Tap into the message of beauty.
Cleansing will reveal,
push out the truth.
True ring true.
Stop it chattering at you.
Push the mulling, brooding
thoughts aside…
through to inner core.
Through to inner core
thoughts aside…
Push the mulling, brooding,
stop it chattering at you.
True ring true,
push out the truth.
Cleansing will reveal,
tap into the message of beauty.
No ego, no agenda.
Scratched and wet
layer of skin below.
Tramp through.
Don’t be afraid.
Dig down –
travel through your own mud.
Copyright © Gail Gilbride Bohle | Year Posted 2014
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