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Tuesday 24 December 2013

Poem: Silver Stars



there is a view of the ocean
at your back door
yet you keep staring at the well-established paths,
the ones' which feel like home,
despite the darkness they cast
like a magnet they are gluing pieces together
you trust the taste of familiar in their shadow play
empty fields of sorrow are the place
where you sow your wild flowers
your spirit like a cold breeze
stroking their blossoms
you can't hide who you really are
                on your own
and if your life seems like a black book
remember that the black makes
the silver stars appear
 *

Sunday 15 December 2013

Poem: Beams



from out of that darkness
fiery feathers are beaming
in all their splendour
reaching out
glowing tall and fragile
for love, loss and a lonely heart
as a soft whisper of courage
echoing in the shadowy halls
with just a flicker
they ignite hope
I could immerse myself
in their dancing waves
and talk for hours
of the shadows they startled
staring long enough
till I become the flame
we can still see a star
on the night sky
even after it dies
and I wish our beams would shine on
conquering the speed of light

*

This was written as a prompt to Candle and Lights at dVersePoets.
I've always been attracted to candle lights, stars..and winter can be full of those things, so I can't wait for a bit of snow, a warm room, some hot tea and candles. And of course... a good book ;)

Saturday 14 December 2013

Poem: Hungry mind




Moonlight reaches the window
and covers up a part of the wooden floor. There you lay
in the comfort of your cotton made bedding. The scent
of your existence infused into the sheets. Your mind
hungry like a fire for new logs to burn. Thoughts
you'd steal just to see how they would fit your walls;
what kind of shadows they would cast behind;
would they be worthy of moonlight?
Needing a new thought to fight it, to challenge it,
just to see how strong it holds its ground.
Some new bone to chew upon, to break
the known system of thinking. To change
the wires in your skin. For it has been proven
to hold back the horses of your sanity.
Who does it take to remind you of the possible future
at your back? Of all the things the future picture is made of,
which elements deserve your blood and sweat?
Ghosts of the past have long since whispered
in your ears, since you were eager to listen.
Learn what you can from gazing ahead to the past
and then leave it without walking in regret. The next moment
will slip by faster if you give in to anxiety; but for the most part
worst case scenarios don't come true; they just feed
your fears, which in return cloud the skies
that you walk under. If not now, then when,
will it be a good time to feed the hunger for change?
*

Sunday 8 December 2013

Poem: Painting and a teacup



in a room,
where time stands still
where sounds of a piano may still linger in the dimmed corners
there lays a painting of you looking back at us
though your wandering spirit has long left
its' tiny shoes in the teacup, and went to rest
things you once used linger on the table
with little or no sunlight
glitter of old days still remains on the edges
through these things I can see you
as you once were
full of joy, taking life by the hand
with its' troubles and sweetness
I keep a conversation with you in my mind
you share the secrets and the wisdom
that you gathered in your lifetime
it may take one hundred years for ideas to blossom
and I think of you more often than I would admit


*
Written as a poetry prompt by RealToads. The artist of these photographs is Jennifer MacNeill, HERE is her official page and HERE is her flickr page.