Love Unrequited

The gentle swish of rocks fell slow,

An echo of sound through rocks below,

A sky blue sight with a ripple of green,

Fractured by light held in-between.

 

Far distant land in shadow afar,

Soon to be lit by benevolent star,

Form of land shaped by the light,

Joined by shadows given by night.

 

Musing thoughts meander through,

The misty touch of broken blue,

A caress unbroken by turning head,

Nor wisps of floating, fiery red.

 

A grip unknown held tight and fast,

Through life so long, future, past,

Caress or crush is same of old,

A story of life both bright and bold.

 

Distance felt across sea and soul,

Wishng desperate to be whole,

One piece for him in days of cold,

A silent blessing, never told.

 

A step away from the hanging edge,

Away from the pull of a lover’s pledge,

Within the trees, full of past emotion,

A memory of past devotion.

 

For alone with summers past again,

Leaves now gold for winter yen,

Amidst the leaves of Lover’s Knot,

The gentle touch of a forget-me-not.

 

 


Les yeux fermés

Les yeux fermés

Je souhaite épargner cette personne,
De plaider, pour lui demander pardon,
Pleurer sur son épaule, un enfant, pas plus,
Mon horreur et mon chagrin, c’était absolue.

Je ne peux pas échapper à cette peine,
La même tu as senti à chaque haleine,
Ils t’ont emmené pendant que je regardais,
Ma conscience, brisés et enterrés, tardait.

Puis les mots ne pouvaient pas passer,
Mon cœur dans ma gorge, prêt à briser,
Tes yeux étaient si tristes pour un si petit,
Accablés par le résultat de notre apathie.

Ses yeux étaient lourds avec ses larmes salées,
Mais leur chute, par ses paupières, était voilée,
Mais nous étions là, nous regardions, silencieux,
Dans le visage de ton sort, violent et vicieux.

Un enfant de la religion, innocent et pur,
Forcé de prendre ces coups contre le cœur,
Enfants marchaient, les mères criaient dans la nuit,
« Comme Eve, par un serpent, vous êtes séduits ! »

Je l’ai senti lors, le ramper juste là,
Sa voix parasitaire en moi et au-delà,
Un murmure sournois dans mon oreille,
Picorant les faibles comme une corneille.

Un objet de haine, une raison pour le destin,
La corde à leur cou, encore nous sommes hautains,
Ils ne sont pas la raison de la vie que nous vivons,
Ou de la haine et le désespoir que nous ressentons.

Je n’oublierai pas le cri qu’elle a donné,
La femme dont la vie a été abandonnée,
Je n’avais pas réalisé jusqu’aujourd’hui,
Comme Eve, par un serpent, nous sommes séduits !

On the subject of the German occupation of France during the second world war.

Translation

I want to save this person,

To plead, to ask his forgiveness,

To cry on his shoulder, a child, no more,

My horror and shame, it is absolute.

 

I can’t escape this pain,

The same you feel with every breath,

They took you while I watched,

My conscience, broken and buried, was late.

 

Then the words couldn’t pass,

My heart in my throat, ready to break,

Your eyes were so sad for one so small,

Overwhelmed by the result of our apathy.

 

Their eyes were heavy with salty tears,

But their fall from their eyes was veiled,

But we were there, we watched, silent,

In the face of your fate, violent and vicious.

 

A child of religion, innocent and pure,

Forced to take this blows against the heart,

Children walked, mothers cried in the night,

“Like Eve, by a snake, you are seduced.”

 

I felt it then, the slither just there,

His parasitic voice in me and beyond,

A sinister murmur in my ear,

Pecking at the weak like a crow.

 

AN object of hate, a reason for destiny,

The cord around their neck, yet we are proud,

They are not the reason for the life we live,

Or the hate the despair we feel.

 

I will not forget the cry that she gave,

The woman who life had abandoned,

I hadn’t realised until today,

Like Eve, by a snake, we are seduced.


You and I

You and I

Straight, tall soldiers developed hunches,
Lost all sight of old war grudges,
Why point the finger, appoint the blame,
You and I, I and You, we are the same, we are the same.

I have the rifle but do I shoot?
Do I play God and follow suit?
What part does God play in our war?
You and I, I and you, there are more, there are more.

A hell of sounds; sounds from Hell,
The noise of bullets covering the bell,
The bell of souls shall sound for he,
You and I, I and You, the bell of sounds will come for thee.

Blood flowed and mixed with all the mud,
To great deep holes the bodies lugged,
Soldier and death: who loses the duel?
You and I, I and You, time is cruel, time is cruel.


Lost in the Land of Forgot

Lost in the Land of Forgot

 

She wondered lost in the forest of trees,

Her face caressed by a wondering breeze,

A gentle touch, a reminder of what,

She had lost and left in the land of forgot,

A hovering call, a trail for her mind,

A twist in a root in which she was twined,

A desperate tug, a need to be free,

A twist and a turn and a heartfelt plea,

She was out the trap, alone with the tree,

With only a wish to fly and to flee,

Only a look and the absence of fear,

A moment of truth, a second, a year,

To see what had been there, longer than her,

A blink to reveal the truth, as it were,

An ancient tree, full of wisdom and words,

An ancient song, sharp and sweet as a bird’s,

For then she knew, it was not just a trap,

But a bridge to help step over the gap,

For a secret lay in the land of forgot,

A change, a twist in a tangle of plot,

For all those who enter the forest of light,

Have lost themselves as a part of the rite,

But those who walk with their face in the breeze,

Can find their memories there in the trees.


Shackles

Shackles

There are many kinds of cuffs and shackles used across this world,
Used on those whose wings have not had time to be unfurled,
Their wings are ripped and shackles clipped before they can say a word,
And later when they scream, it’s quiet and empty and unheard,
For no-one knows the scream of old, the sound of a broken slave,
As ignorance is bliss, and ignorance is all that they will crave,
But ignoring such injustice has a price for those in pain,
A fee in blood and sweat and tears which slowly begin to drain.

I know of what I speak for I was caught, fighting in his net,
And hope would drain away when I saw all those who abet,
But I am one of the lucky ones, to survive that brutal test,
But what of all the others, the others downtrodden and oppressed,
Will you leave them there, in the dark, alone with him just sitting there?
The others who fell afoul of his rudimentary snare.

Children with their wide eyes, bright with tears for want of love,
An emotion that their captors are so utterly void of,
Women with their hands tied tight and bleeding at their back,
Whose future is, in all the ways, a darkening pitch black,
Faced with challenges, few wins and many shattering defeats,
Many will hide, alone and afraid, beneath the dirty sheets.

For no-one comes to save them from the nightmare of their life,
From the pain of broken bones, a broken heart so full of strife,
You can rub your eyes and turn away; pretend that they aren’t there,
But ask yourself, would you, could you really dare?
You know they’re there, eyes lifeless, empty-dying without hope,
Ignore it, pretend it isn’t there and it’s a very slippery slope.

You see the shackles that bind their hands, their heart and mind,
It’s up to you to help the fences down, the wire to unwind,
For you hold in the palm of your hand, their life, their heart, their very soul,
You can play the hero, its open for you, to you that so giant role,
There are many kinds of cuffs and shackles used across this world,
Used on those whose wings have not had time to be unfurled,
Break them and let the wings unfurl, take flight and live once more,
Fight them long and hard, a lion, let them hear you roar!

Written with stopthetraffik.org in mind


The Little Christmas Tree

The Little Christmas Tree

The fallen tree lies on the ground,
It’s shaking fingers reaching all around,
Under its blanket of cold, frozen snow,
Is a crystal of ice, a tear caught in its flow.

Its poor broken limbs have been pulled from the soil,
But still its spirit and soul remain truly loyal,
It shudders as a badger cries for its den,
Creaks out a cry at the song of its wren.

Broken and beaten it lies in the cold,
Feeling lonely, abandoned and old,
In its hour of need along comes a man,
Who drags the poor tree as far as he can.

Into the warm to shake off the cold,
Making the tree feel a little more bold,
Slowly the tree is wrapped in its finest,
Praising the man as one of the kindest.

Proudly displayed for all men to see,
Is the little unfortunate cold Christmas tree.


It Came Upon the Midnight Clear

It came upon the midnight clear

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
It rose up through lake and frozen mere,
And spread across the wold,
It travelled through and left a mark,
That continued through the years,
All tuned an ear and turned to hark,
The music through their fears,
Before their eyes, the moon came down,
Untouched and pure as she,
And laid a kiss upon their crown,
And let them all go free,
Then the light once more retreated,
Under the water of the mere,
An event ne’er to be repeated,
One that all man, he must revere,
It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
It rose up through lake and frozen mere,
And spread across the wold.


Close your eyes

Close your eyes

Close your eyes and feel it drain,
The hurt of the day, lost like rain,
Music enters and lifts your heart,
A burden lifted, taken apart,
Roll your shoulders, the weight is lifted,
Bring back the soul from where it’s drifted,
Relax what’s tense and feel it heal,
Look inside and see what’s real,
Heart and soul and mind are ready,
Wake your mind, nice and steady,
Heart once broken, now is whole,
Open your soul and take control,
Time it is to open your eyes,
If you don’t know, just improvise,
Listen to my voice and say,
I’m ready to face another day.


I Hear You

I Hear You

I hear your words, they burn my ears,
They sink inside, sink through years,
You stand on stage, in front of me,
Unlock my mind, you hold the key,
I close my eyes and hear the beat,
Applause of hands, stamping feet,
One speaks fast, another is slow,
No one dares to stop the flow,
Introduced, then say goodbye,
Never question, no, not I,
Speak with presence, passion, fire,
Just a teller, never liar,
Open heart and soul exposed,
Speaking songs, life composed,
Love and hate and hot and cold,
Beautiful words, written bold,
I hear your words, they burn my ears,
They sink inside, sink through years.


Soulmates

Soulmates

His heart is like a flower for me,

So like the love I feel for he,

His smiles simply change my world,

Wind for a boat with sails unfurled,

My head and my heat for once agree,

That he is the only one for me,

Only he can hear the love that flows,

Only he can accept this delicate rose.

 

She is a wonder of this earth,

She is the one I’d see by my hearth,

Her soul is the one that calls to my own,

I can but answer her musical tone,

Her eyes a gateway to the Great Heaven,

For her I’d commit all the sins seven,

For she is but mine and I am for her,

She is the one who can make my heat stir.


Let us lay you down

Let us lay you down

Soldiers you may lay down arms,
Leave behind your hidden qualms,
Let us lay you down to rest,
Remember you and we are blest,
Today there is a poppy found,
To show that to you we are bound,
Gone from us you cannot be,
For your hearts we still can see,
May you leave this empty space,
And know that none will take your place.


Bloodthirsty Poppies

Bloodthirsty Poppies

I stand alone and face the world,
Rage in my heart far unfurled,
Ghostly poppies dream their chance,
To pull the blood into their trance,
Scarlet heads mark bloody fields,
The sword against the poppy yields,
For every flower marks a life,
Someone’ child dead through strife,
Soldier’s soul sustains the petal,
Pretty head far worse than nettle,
Blood released upon the ground,
Red heads sway towards the sound,
Poppies are the ones so flirty,
Poppies are the most bloodthirsty.


Remembrance Day

In honour of Remembrance Dya, over the next few days I’ll post poems that a relevant to the subject. The first one follows.

You and I

Straight, tall soldiers developed hunches,
Lost all sight of old war grudges,
Why point the finger, appoint the blame,
You and I, I and You, we are the same, we are the same.

I have the rifle but do I shoot?
Do I play God and follow suit?
What part does God play in our war?
You and I, I and you, there are more, there are more.

A hell of sounds; sounds from Hell,
The noise of bullets covering the bell,
The bell of souls shall sound for he,
You and I, I and You, the bell of sounds will come for thee.

Blood flowed and mixed with all the mud,
To great deep holes the bodies lugged,
Soldier and death: who loses the duel?
You and I, I and You, time is cruel, time is cruel.


Winter Beauty

Winter Beauty

The sun may set on a winter’s day,
At night, the moon comes out to play,
The moon brings with it snowflakes white,
And fills the sky with a frozen light,
Time stands still, so frozen cold,
The world around is an alpine gold,
Enter now a cold Jack Frost,
Can you see no beauty’s lost?
The moon must leave and the sun will rise,
But now you see winter, without it’s disguise.


Composer

Composer

His head is full of the bold, true notes,
And the lady with white fingers, on whom he dotes,
His heart is open to all nuances of sound,
And his feet are far from on the ground,
For he dreams of music: alive-with soul,
That enters his heart and makes his heart feel whole,
For a true romantic is what he be,
As you know from listening to his harmony,
So take his music to fuel your desires,
As that is everything that he requires.


A White Knight in a Fairy Ring

A White Knight in a Fairy Ring

Surrounded by the dark, I wait for your hand,
I wait for your love, for you to understand,
I wait for the feel of your fingers on skin,
For you to pull me out of this thing,
I’ve opened my heart to help you in,
Opened myself so I can be saved from within,
I’ve trusted you with my everything,
Don’t fall into this fairy ring,
I trust you, and it’s not an illusion,
It’s so real, it’s so not a delusion,
I know you’re there, so pull me out,
I ask for your help, I can’t live without,
I can face the darkness with you,
Standing by my side, all through.

I felt your touch, right there on my face,
I’d give anything now for a total embrace,
I’ve been waiting so long, forever it seems,
Finding you only in my fractured dreams,
I was sure you would find me, and save me tonight,
I’ve wished for it for days with all my might,
I feel your fingers clasp my hand, warm and tight,
I always knew you were my white knight,
You pull me from trouble, from the clutches of others,
But you know I want your help more than I want another’s?
We’re nearing the light, I’m holding you close,
As you for one know how to engross,
I cannot ignore you; you’re all that I need,
For you I would open my heart, I would bleed.

You entered the ring with none at your side,
But you leave it with my being always beside.


Impossible Desire

Impossible Desire

You left me, but long before you walked out the door,
I gave you my everything but you wanted more,
Nothing was enough, you really wanted away,
You wanted a different part to play,
You spent your days looking for an excuse,
To prompt me into turning you loose,
For I couldn’t leave until you were free,
And that’s just what I want you to be,
I chose to let you go, you weren’t ready for me,
But I’ll wait for you, just in case, you see,
I loved you enough to let you be who you are,
even though it gave my sore heart a new scar,
I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t feel,
At home, rather than like a dog at my heel,
Even though, without shame, you broke my soft heart,
You will always hold a small, single part,
I should wait for you here, in this cold empty place,
While another woman can make your heart race,
I may no longer be the one you desire,
But I must have the love I truly require,
I may be a wallflower, with a common Irish lilt,
But without the care that we need, wallflowers wilt,
I’m getting tired of waiting for you to return,
I’m sick of having to only yearn,
I won’t wait for much longer for what I require,
For I’m starting to see it’s an impossible desire.


Thunderstorm

Thunderstorm

I stand on the edge and feel the storm,
The rage and the wrath of nature’s form,
Eyes closed and I can feel the sting,
Of the freezing rain that cold winds bring,
The waves and thunder crash in time,
The sound of which is just sublime,
For the force and fury of a thunderstorm,
Is far from our accustomed norm,
But the flash of lightning blinds your eyes,
So you can’t see through this harsh disguise,
For in the eye of a storm one can only see,
The beauty of the powers that truly be,
Looking out you see the waters whip,
The flash of light, the cold airs nip,
Without the pain and hurt it can bring,
A storm is just a beautiful thing,
For one can shut their eyes and feel,
The altar at which we all must kneel,
For so we may all just survive,
We must remember, she’s alive,
For the powers that keep the storm so true,
Are the ones that sustain us through and through,
And if you see the storm and feel it’s kiss,
This love is something we would miss,
Though this storm is what we can’t control,
It’s a true example of the beauty we know.


Heartbreaker

Heartbreaker

I watched you walk away, my love, but still you took a part of me,

You broke my heart and stole a piece, breaking it forever you see,

For the missing piece inside myself, I just cannot live without it,

For it leaves me open and vulnerable to any lucky hit,

I don’t think you understand, my love, the height of my desperation,

I prepared to do a lot of things, it’s worth the perspiration,

You see, I’m tired of feeling out-of-sorts, without my better half,

Unable to smile and cry with heart, what’s life without a laugh?

I will chase you down across the world and find you, don’t forget,

I’m sick of being overwhelmed with saddness and regret,

The pain so it often brought me down upon my knees,

But opening my heart to you was giving a robber the ring of keys,

I refuse to let you hurt me or twice it is my shame,

But let me tell you now, for this pain it’s you I blame,

For I was just an innocent, a novice to this love,

But you, you took my feet from ground to sit on clouds above,

Let me tell you now, from that height it’s hard to fall,

For even though you left me, I still love you with my all,

But I know that you don’t love me, so I don’t expect a thing,

Except of course for the love and pain combined you always bring,

Instead I’ll say I’ve fallen, and arrive out of the blue,

And you can watch as I for once, steal a single part of you.


A Cold Symphony

A Cold Symphony

Body shivers as the wind blows cold,

Icy fingers won’t release their hold,

Shoulders hunch and fingers go numb,

Sound of the wind through the trees is a hum,

Seed like a fairy catches your eye,

Unsure as a fledging, learning to fly,

Rustle of dry leaves is the beat of the drum,

Sure of the rhythm, they dance as they come,

Green leaves on the trees, turning red as the soon,

Autumnal leaves, a sight second to none,

The scrape of the leaves are the strings of the sound,

The melody strong as their roots in the ground,

The twitter of birds proves a tune of its own,

Yet the language they speak is a language unknown,

Clouds overhead, filled with the rain and the snow,

Battling the wind, losing blow-by-blow,

Saplings are swaying, so drunk on the song,

For now they are sure of just where they belong,

All of this nature, both melody and tune,

As strong as the sun beating down on the dune,

The music can bring both happiness and tears,

Opening the eyes and the heart of who hears.

This poem was inspired when I was sitting outside on a very cold day and all I could hear were the sounds described in the poem.


Riddle of Conscience

Riddle of Conscience

I am the thunder, I am the storm,

I am the strange, I am the norm,

I am the light and the darkness of dawn,

I am the dusk and the dark before dawn,

I am the stars and the planets above,

I am your heart and the feeling of love,

I am the thing that goes bump in the night,

I am the fear of the bark and the bite,

I am the heat of the sun at high noon,

I am the splendour and light of the moon,

I am the voice that can whisper inside,

I am the hurt and the pain you can’t hide,

I am the beat of your blood in your bones,

I am the wind as it howls and it moans,

I am the feelings of joy and disdain,

I am the bearer of suffering and pain,

I am the guilt and the whispers of hate,

I am the one warning before it’s too late,

I am the one who opens your eyes,

I am the one you can sometimes despise,

I am the one who closes the distance,

I am the one who offers assistance,

I am the one who is always around,

I am the one who keeps your feet on the ground,

I am the one who is sometimes abhorred,

Yet I am the one who is often adored.


Poppies

This was inspired by the scenes of red poppies covering the battlefields and the graves of many soldiers.

Poppies

Red as blood, as black as coal,
Unsure as a newborn foal,
Pretty heads face from the ground,
Wars ago, you’d hear the sound,
Soldier’s marching to their fate,
Poppies marking Heaven’s gate,
Red as blood, as black as coal,
A poppy for a soldier’s soul.

Red as blood, as black as coal,
A thirst for blood beyond control,
Red flowers on the tainted dirt,
Buried beneath: a bloodied shirt,
The wind that makes the poppies dance,
Can’t stop the soldier’s brave advance,
Red as blood, as black as coal,
A poppy for a soldier’s soul.

The basic idea for this poem was based on the idea that for every poppy we see, it symbolises the loss of one soldier. Therefore showing poppies in a different light.


A Bullet for my Valentine

A Bullet for my Valentine

Turn around and face me coward,
Don’t try to fight, you’re overpowered,
Look me in the face and say it,
I want to hear it, every bit,
Move your lips and form the word,
That great, red line is now blurred,
Good and evil, just and un-,
I can’t stop now that I’ve begun,
You call me crazy but I am not,
But now a twist in a twisted plot,
There on the side is your loaded gun,
You stupid thing, you should have run,
You’re all tied up, it’s self-defence,
Come on now, why so tense?
You meant to kill me, I saw it there,
Your wild eyes, a predator’s glare,
It’s me or you and now I’ve chosen,
For it’s you not me, standing frozen,
One of us, one has to go,
I’ll be the one to deliver the blow,
I loved you once but now it’s left,
And you I hold for the beastly theft,
A hollow bullet for my ruthless love,
A love your heart isn’t capable of.

This was inspired when a friend of mine refused to stop championing the song with the same name.

You have to imagine someone who was tricked in the worst way. Had their heart broken and then jumped up and down on. Imagine someone who can’t put themselves back together and thinks that removing the person who hurt them will bring them back themselves.

Then you understand the female persona.


Shame

This was inspired by stories of children who have been abused and those who try to pull them out. However, sometimes the abused can’t imagine a different life and the white knights can sometimes get a little frustrated.

Shame

You are the one, who just hides away,
The one who cannot seize the day,
You are the one, who cowers in dark,
One who always misses the mark,
You are the one, who just never speaks,
Sad, like a child who never peeks,
You are the one so afraid all the time,
Held behind, accused of the crime,
You are the one who smells of the musk,
Just ask, why do you hide, dawn until dusk?


Tired of Guilt

Another poem written by a Jew perhaps suffering from survivor’s guilt.

Tired of Guilt

I can see your face but I know you’re not there,
I know that you are just a nightmare,
I can see in your face the hell you were in,
I can wait simply for hell to begin,
I know it could have been me, who was taken,
And still now I hope only to awaken,
It wasn’t my fault, all were at risk,
All of us suffered, no matter how brisk,
I have suffered long without you to help,
No matter how wild you were, young whelp,
You know that I loved you with all of my heart,
And it broke when we were pulled without mercy apart,
The tears have left empty grooves in my face,
But I have none left for the others to chase,
But I am still here and you are elsewhere,
I can accept it but still we move nowhere,
I shall never forget you but know I must leave,
For also I almost died for what I believe.


Is Love All We Need?

Love is all we need

An empty heart, I’ve left it all,
It’s time to go, to stand up tall,
No more tears, I’ve used too many,
Empty thoughts, not worth a penny,
Face the door, I have to leave,
No longer am I so naïve,
Must turn my back and grit my teeth,
Feel the ground underneath,
But dare not place a foot too far,
What if this will leave a scar?
Which is better, stay or go?
Won’t leave you at an all-time low,
I want you happy, loved and free,
Not desperate as a honey bee,
If I stay, would it be best?
Or would it be another test?
I love you so I let you go?
God, I love you more than you could know,

But if love is all we need to live,
Why is it we must forgive?
If love is all we need to thrive,
Why was it we could just survive?
If love is all we need to stay,
Why do we have the urge to stray?
If love is all we need to own,
Why do I feel so all alone?

This was inspired by all those films where one of the partners ups and leaves. This is an attempt to show their point of view rather than the view of the partner left behind.
I just fancied writing something a little different. Enjoy.


Riddle

Riddle

I am what you see, yet I am not,

I am a true lover’s knot,

I am that, which you wish to be,

I am the clam of the willow tree,

I am the frost in the hovering wind,

I am the one, who never has sinned,

I am the dew on the leaves in the morning,

I am the grief of black clothed mourning,

I am the anger before it’s withdrawn,

I am the beauty and violence of dawn,

I am the voice who whispers to you,

I am the one who is far out of view,

I have talked and now you must try,

To tell me just now, just who am I?

We were looking at riddles in school and I was interested in the ones that used a lot of lovely metaphors and descriptive words and everyday things to describe big general ideas.

The answer to this riddle could be various things, it could be God, it could be love, it could be the world. Personally, I don’t have a clue but maybe you do. Anyway, enjoy.


Love Lost

Love

When the sun can clutch the moon,
When the water can cross the dune,
When the shore enchants the sea,
Then shall I stop loving thee.

Lost

When the rays turn into moonbeams,
When the nightmares turn to dreams,
When the waves, the wash condemn,
Then shall I once love again.

These poems were inspired by a Shakespearean poem.It is almost like one poem split into two parts but either can be used separately or together.
This trick is something that I wanted to try…and I think it’s worked quite well. The first verse in particular can be used in various ways, in readings at weddings or in anniversary cards or valentine cards etc.
The trick with this poem is that it is quite vague.
We don’t even know if the two poems are about the same two characters.  Because there isn’t anything to hint at a story apart from first of all a fairytale-style love and then a devastatingly broken heart.
So make up your own story and feel free to tell me about it.


Broken

This poem was again inspired by the way men often treated women during the Regency Era. However, this is also inspired by all those modern heroines whose motto is “don’t get mad-get even!”

Broken
Cold creeps in, stops the beat,
Stop the heart, stop the heat,
A skip in the rhythm, empty space,
Nothing left to fill the place,
Keep looking forward, eyes up high,
Yet burn a hole in the open sky,
Jealously, anger, green-eyed hate,
I leave you here, to your empty fate,
Walk on past, ignore the taunt,
It’s him, my vengeful ghost will haunt,
If I go down, you’re coming too,
Melting in a witches brew,
Your cold, hard heart may tease me still,
But I know how to melt the chill,
My heart is broken, eyes are blank,
For this new-found spirit, you I thank,
For if you had not hurt me so,
I would still be the one you know,
But now I’m better, faster, stronger,
And I am weak for no longer.

This story is about a player (a rake during the Regency Era) who caused a woman to fall in love with him. He left her but upon realising that she loved him he taunts her, flaunting his new girl at every opportunity and so on.

However, this is written from the girl’s point of view. This is story is showing how her love to turns to hate and how she becomes both hateful and vengeful in the rebound from a broken heart. It’s a story about how she turns herself from someone who would have been hurt by her former suitor’s taunts to one who simply plans to bring him down!

Something I bet we can all relate to. Enjoy.


Hurt

This poem was inspired by a load of Jane Austen films I’ve been watching recently..and a lot of films and books ever created about that era.

Think about all the fancy balls these people went to and how often people had to marry for money rather than love. Imagine a jilted woman, watching as the one she loves dances with his new love and tries to avoid her. Then imagine that the jilted girl knows that the girl this man is in love with, doesn’t return his feelings just as he didn’t return the jilted woman’s feelings. Think about how the jilted woman, the wallflower, would feel about that man, think about how she would hate him and laugh at him and then try to make him pity her by revealing to him exactly how what he has done has affected her. Imagine her tell him that she has broken her heart…permanently.

Hurt

I look at you and watch you flirt,
Laugh as around me you can skirt,
I feel your love for the other girl,
And feel the rage in my heart unfurl,
Your lovesick self can turn from me,
But I am the one, who holds the key,
For I know something that you don’t,
Can say the words your loved one won’t,
Her heart belongs to another love,
Still she you are unworthy of,
You said you loved, that you were mine,
And now you are hurt by your own design,
You should have thought before you fell,
If she was more than a simple belle.

My message is a simple one,
To tell you just what you have done,
I’ll not let another close to me,
From love I shall forever flee,
See now I know what I should fear,
The salty taste of a fallen tear.


Have I Lost You?

This was inspired by the Haiti earthquake. Thinking about all those people who have lost loved ones and all they want is those loved ones back.

Have I lost you?

If I close my eyes, will I see you there?

If I close my eyes, will the world be fair?

If I close my eyes, will you be home again?

If I close my eyes, will you be home right then?

If I close my eyes, will you be with me once more?

If I close my eyes, will you be just like before?

If I close my eyes, will I hear your voice?

If I close my eyes, will you be here by choice?

But when I open my eyes, I’ll once more be alone,

When I open my eyes, I’ll still have to atone,

When I open my eyes, I’ll have lost you again,

When I open my eyes, you’ll take flight like a wren.

Yet I feel you here, inside of my heart,

Yet I feel you here, so please don’t depart,

Yet I feel you here, my eyes may be closed,

Yet I feel you here, my soul is exposed.

Each verse is four lines long which means this poem has four verses and a title.


The Walking Dead

This poem was inspired, again, by World War Two. The story was of a doctor who helped run a Jewish orphanage. He was offered a way out of the war but he stayed with the children. Eventually German soldiers arrived and forced the doctor and the children to walk miles to the nearest concentration camp. While they walked, the doctor held the hands of one or two of the children. Here’s the result of my “inspiration”. (By the way, the sand refers to a sand timer and the smoke obviously to the burning of clothes and bodies by the Nazis and the persona is obviously one of the children holding the doctor’s hand, whispering his fears and ending up consoling the poor doctor).

The Walking Dead

We are the walking dead, aren’t we mister,

The walking dead, me and my little sister,

We’re marching to our death aren’t we sir,

Please, my little sister, can’t you help her,

Mister, you aren’t crying are you,

Come on now, it’s nothing new,

Just keep on holding my blistered hand,

It’s almost gone, all that sand,

Mister, I can be the walking dead,

‘Cause I know that He’s not just in my head,

You see the smoke of Satan’s cigar,

We are the walking dead, we are.


Deadly Desire

This poem was inspired by another poem called The Laboratory by Robert Browning. I tried to keep to the same time period that he did but I set the poem in a slightly different setting. I chose a masquerade ball because many people say and think things they ordinarily wouldn’t when they can’t be identified. So obviously emotions such as jealousy and hatred can become more obvious and prominent when your face is covered by a mask than when it is not.

This setting also shows why the persona is so vicious and furious, she’s held everything back and bottled everything up and now…she’s exploded. Enjoy.

One more thing to note is that as I’ve said before the computer won’t allow me to show you the verses in these things. So I’ll tell you that this poem has two verses, each 14 lines long. Sorry.

Deadly Desire

A glittering mask glimmers there,

Those teary eyes affix their stare,

For I am the one who poisoned his heart,

I am the one who pulled them apart,

If I can’t have him, no-one can,

Shouldn’t have pressed her lips to he fan,

I can but hide from the darkest glare,

Can naught but forget this whole affair,

She should never have stolen his soul,

Should never have tried to take control,

I was the one he loved and he held,

She chose the one she shouldn’t have spelled,

Now I will meet them in fiery Hell,

But now I feel no spirit compel.

Bloody heart is forged of ice,

Dare not ask the sinful price,

Must be ruthless in my pain,

To acquire that I wish to gain,

I want his heart, I want her soul,

Heart must be as dark as coal,

Must not let her tears to sway me,

Must give justice just as fairly,

My knife is bloody just for her,

Beneath the blood the edge is grim,

Stab the heart and she won’t be back,

As my soul is dark ebony black,

His love or death is all I require,

For he is the only one I desire.


Warsaw

In RE we were studying Judaism and the Holocaust. Through it we were told the story of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. I liked the story as it showed the amount of courage these poor, downtrodden Jewish people had but also because they achieved something when it was thought impossible. Here’s the story.

Warsaw

I bite my lip as I face the man,

Pondering if maybe, I should have ran,

But they pushed us until it was forced to break,

No more of our own could they take,

A simple sound was all it took,

A shifty eye, a dirty look,

The rhythm of boots, invaders back,

That’s all it took for the façade to crack,

Safety catches now were off,

They started forward, pigs at a trough,

Weapons concealed now clutched in rage,

The empty street, a new blank page,

Written on it words of battle,

Filled with guns and flame and rattle,

Pouring out no matter of age,

Time to rattle the bars of the cage,

Attack and kill like a rabid dog,

Away from us they backward jog,

Anger fills and boils over,

But we are without four-leaf clover,

Luck runs out and I am caught,

I look and see the damage we wrought,

Joy I find in the depths of my heart,

For now we stopped the major depart,

I bite my lip and I look at his eyes,

And I see evil without its disguise,

Now I am sure that we have done right,

Because for us there is no white knight,

Finally we have made our brave stand,

And saved the others, just as we planned.


Macbeth

We studied Macbeth in class and I really enjoyed it but sometimes I got a little bored during class. Here’s the result.

Macbeth

One is pulled to Devil’s thrall,

One can, of course, resist his call,

One can hide his traitors mind,

Other one is left behind,

One ignores the call of reason,

Other hides the future treason,

One is not so solely loyal,

Other speaks of others toil,

One is drawn to distant crown,

Other can’t control his frown,

Yet Other is blind to the murderous study,

And One can see the just heart bloody.

I’ll give you a clue, there a two characters, see if you can figure out who they are and which lines each says. Good luck!


A Magpie Flies with a Broken Wing

A magpie flies with a broken wing

A magpie flies with a broken wing,

So prepared for the New Year spring,

But blizzards blow and the bird can’t fly,

She closes her eyes and starts to cry,

Caw, caw the sound throbs through,

Her partner calls and her fledglings too,

But still the snowflakes have not slowed,

The magpie stalled with her precious load,

Feathers ruffle and the bird takes flight,

The only black in a white-filled night,

Close she is to her goal when pain,

What love must the magpie’s heart contain?

For the magpie knows of her partners cloy,

But it’s one for sorrow and two for joy.

This poem was inspired by Robert Frost’s poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”. Hopefully this poem is similar- simplicity on the surface but with a far deeper meaning underneath.

This is another handy way to beat writer’s block, be inspired by someone else.

If you want a hint-look at the last line in partcular. Enjoy.


Tell Me

Tell Me

See the robin with his bright red breast,

Hear his heart beat in his chest,

Now feel your heart beat in your own,

Both are made of flesh and bone,

Tell me why you think you’re more,

Than the bird who sits by the door,

Tell me why you’ve got the right,

To remove this bird from open sight,

His blood runs hot and he breathes in air,

He lives his life and he earns his fare,

The robin stares and asks, eyes wide,

What does your heart think, deep inside?

Tell Me is another poem written to make an impact on the reader. This is, hopefully, achieved by choosing to write about a controversial subject and using comparisons that a closer to home than most people wish to think about. It’s also quite thought-provoking as the last couplet is a rhetorical question which obviously has the same effect as a cliffhanger right at the end of a story.

The imagery has been specifically chosen to be a little gory and quite “in-your-face” in order to make an impact on the reader. It’s also quite simplified in order to help the reader understand that this really is a simple problem with an obvious solution.

However, this is counteracted a little and softened by the use of rhyme, a fun concept that softens anything that’s said because it gives the impression of the poem being written perhaps by a child or someone similar which means people are less likely to object to the message but the rhyming also emphasises what’s said so it has two very useful effects.

It’s also another good way to avoid writer’s block-choose a controversial subject that you have an opinion on and write about it. Easy.

Anyway, I hope you liked it.


Valentine

Another one here with two separate characters. both with different attitudes to the subject and both with very different, hopefully believable and understandable personalities. The poem is based on one man and one woman with the woman a little scared to commit. The structure’s a little different as the poem starts with the woman speaking then switches to the man for a verse and repeats with a joined couplet at the end (my favourite bit).

This is another way to sneak past writer’s block, this was inspired partly by one of my favourite books.

This is another poem which has a story behind it again. Obviously the man is asking the woman to commit and therefore they must have been seeing each other for a while but the woman’s reaction to this, in particular, suggests a depth to the character. Her hesitancy to commit suggests that something happened in the past to her that means that she now fears to be trapped in such a committment but the fact that she tries to explain to her potential partner suggests that she trusts him inexplicably and the fact that she finally agrees shows just how much she loves him.

One last thing I’ll warn you of is that for some unknown reason this blog won’t let me have more that one gap between lines so the verses aren’t shown very well here. Basically, each verse is 8 lines long which should give four verses and a couplet at the end. Sorry.

Valentine

You glance at me and ask with your eyes,

Have I got an answer, because time flies,

You’ve asked me if I’ll hold your heart,

But now it’s time to say my part,

To say your valentine I will be,

What was an ask is now a plea,

But this just proves my point once more,

It’s having someone to hold you adore.

I’m asking for your love you know,

Not asking you to take a blow,

I love you; love, with all my heart,

My heart won’t beat, you hold a part,

I need you and I want you still,

Allow me my destiny to fulfil,

I know you’re scared but I am here,

Whenever you need me, I’ll be near.

You speak the truth, I do feel fear,

But it’s not of you, but for what I hear,

I hear your heart, which beats for me,

But what if I am not the key,

What if I am not what you think,

If I am not the missing link,

You’ll leave me with a broken heart,

Unable to heal as you hold a part.

I would never hurt you, no matter what,

My soul to you would never shut,

If you don’t feel my love, you’re wrong,

Because I know this feeling, and this is strong,

I could never break your heart, my love,

Such merciless pain, you’d be innocent of,

You are my destiny, my lovely dream,

The only one for me it would seem.

I asked on valentines will you be mine,

And now our destinies are intertwined.


My World

This poem’s a little bit different again to the others. This is a little bit about art, a little bit about family, a little bit of a history and a little bit about the sea. This poem, in particular, as a story behind it, kind of.

It’s actually closer to a freezeframe of someone’s life. Imagine the persona as a woman who talks to herself when she’s lonely, on top of a cliff painting-a common pastime for a woman in the regency era. Then imagine she’s on holiday with her sister, her sister’s husband and their daughter.

The woman is painting their house, the sea which is its background and you can begin to see how lonely this poor woman is-hiding in her art, desperate to claim something for her own and for a family-you can begin to understand the depth and the story behind this poem.

My World

Lines can form, like ink they flow,

Curves appear wherever they go,

Loose and free, they come from me,

As strong and bold as a honey bee,

Or clean and clear as a dragonfly’s wing,

Or beautiful as the sirens who sing,

Loosely drawn with a tranquil soul,

Now stop and place aside the coal,

Colours swept across the sky,

Green and blue for the seagull’s cry,

Purple and green and blue for the sea,

Gold for the sun, gold for she,

Now take up the coal, once more for me,

And sign your name on it for thee,

See what’s left, it’s a masterpiece,

A painting of the home of your sister, your niece,

Now close your eyes and hear the tide,

Entranced, the weeds sway side-to-side,

Open your eyes and see your world,

The one with the lines and colours swirled,

Feel in your heart what you have made,

The deepest joy that’ll never fade.

This poem is also meant to give you a general look at how a few women during this time were tired of being dependant and fought desperately for just a little independence (in this case-her art). It’s been written to suggest that independence is and always has been unbelievably important.

My World has also been written in a way that you can create your own ending for the story. For example, perhaps the woman retreats back to the house and plays with her niece, hugs her sister… or perhaps there is a different ending…

It’s up to you to decide how to interpret this poem and there are infinite ways in which to do  so and that is what makes this poem just a little bit different.


Open Your Eyes

This is another one written by me and it’s a little different. It was inspired by a poem called “What were they like? by Denise Levertov and by all those adverts that show the slums in different countries.

This poem makes more of a relevant point for these particular times.

There are two characters in this poem, the one speaking (obviously) and the one that is being shown the problems-Christmas Carol similarity there.

This poem is to written to make you think and hopefully make an impact. I hope I’ve achieved that…

Open your eyes

Head can droop and sleep wafts in,

Sleep among the city din,

Out of body, see the scene,

The little girl, perhaps a teen,

See empty bowl, and empty life,

The husband bury his lovely wife,

See the lack of self-esteem,

The husband on his daughter lean,

All their lives upon her now,

Her own straight back can never bow,

Her empty eyes, her spirit broken,

Any aid, a tiny token,

Look inside and see her heart,

Once was open, now torn apart,

Come away, now backing slowly,

Close your eyes, withdrawing wholly,

Open again and see your room,

Shake your head, dispel the gloom,

Just a dream, it must have been,

Try to make those sights unseen,

But look inside your soul and see,

Not all is right across the sea.


Future

This wasn’t written with a particular subject in mind. I started and got stuck after around 2 lines so I left it only for a couple of months. When I finally came back to it I finished it in under an hour!

This particular poem is a little dreamy, the persona quite devoted to their loved one but still quite young-in my mind, it’s up for interpretation.

My favourite two lines are the last two and the third couplet. I haven’t a clue why…

Anyway, here it is.

Future

I look at you and see my past,

I realise the way the die were cast,

You were part of the path I’d take,

One of the choices I was to make,

The future may not be set in stone,

But a faint impression that we must hone,

I see your face among the runes,

An oasis among the sandy dunes.

You captured my heart, my soul and my mind,

You have brought colour here to the blind,

My heart can know that you are my own,

And all I can hear is your musical tone,

But you must realise that you are my all,

Without you everything I am would fall,

I look at you and see all the days,

I watch your face, blinded by rays.

I look at you and I know what I see,

But I wonder what you see, when you look at me.


Many

Many was written during a trip to a local historical House. Just thinking about the people who lived there is always inspirational. A sure cure for writer’s block. It’s a very brief history of the House. For example there’s a mention of when it was visited by a Monarch; occupied by the Civil War soldiers; forbidden loves and so on. Try and work out the rest…

Many

Many lives have touched these walls,

Many feet have walked these halls,

Many hands have trailed this floor,

Many fingers have closed this door,

Many lives have hidden behind,

Many eyes allowed to blind,

Many minds have battled for,

Many times for something more,

Many of the views have changed,

Many of the bricks arranged,

Many songs have reached the ceiling,

Many spoke the love they’re feeling,

Many banquets held in cheerful,

Many weapons held by fearful,

Many of the wives alone,

Many of the secrets known,

Many of the hearts were broken,

Many of true words spoken,

Many ones were regal past,

Many ones the future cast.


Slave Music

This poem was written when we were studying the poem Limbo (by Edward Kamau Brathwaite) which explained how slaves often used music to keep up morale.

This poem is set more for those slaves who worked on plantations rather than those still being transported but the essence is similar.

There are two separate stories here, the story of one slave being uplifted from the despair of his situation and the other is the way in which all slaves were uplifted when they heard of the abolishment of slavery-music to their ears.

Slave Music

Red as roses, as fragrant too,

The blood that spills with a rusty hue,

A cut is small, the pain drowned out,

By darker pains that dare to shout,

With body battered, thought denied,

Yet soul is bare and mortified,

While fingers tremble, breathing slows,

From an open heart, music flows,

Notes that lift and float and sing,

Unaware of the hope they bring,

For gentle tunes can lift the eyes,

From the ground to gaze on highs,

Sometimes faith can bring on joy,

But music is a stronger buoy.


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