Posts Tagged ‘ Exclusive ’

Storms – Poem

And so the chariot tumbles, crashing hard on to the Earth,
Failing in his daily task, and beaten by the snake.
And so one God laughs and hisses, as the other struggles hard,
Fighting to reclaim what’s his, and bringing light into the day.
And then the eastern fire builds, raging hot from the Earth,
Flames licking upwards, outward, and as far as the eye can see.

And as the smoke thickens and plumes, covering the pale blue sky,
Storm clouds darken the whole world, and everything becomes obscured.
And the world receives a tint of grey, for the eyes can be deceived,
Struggling to see through and battling to breathe.
And there’s a sudden illumination, forking across the world,
Splintering the sky for a moment, and rumbling the ground below.

And the sun God flashes and roars, fighting to succeed,
Revealing his desire to lighten, and free the world.
And so the eternal battle, perhaps the wrong one will win,
Reality is much harsher, and the Gods do not understand.
And as the roars increase, the tears simply start to fall,
Raining down from the heavens, and blanketing the sky.

And they splash onto the ground, soaking into the Earth,
Merging in with the earth, and raising tidal levels.
And his salt starts to wash away, impurities dissolving fast,
More and more it falls, floods, mixes, and the faster it flows away.
And down and down it seeps, corroding the inner core,
Metal dissolves away, and the mud merely thickens.

And the girl throws herself down, into the cool mud,
Her shoes are soaked through, and all of her is wrinkling.
And as she stares upwards, she begs and pleads to him,
He will ease her pain, and grant her heart’s desire.
And he will raise her up, he will not let her drown,
Here and now she needs him, and his ears are deafened.

And the storm rages on, his anger and frustration,
And the pleading whispers dull, her voice irrelevant,
And he worries for his fate, the girl fears for them both.
And so the dance continues on, for another day,
Where he will fight and she will beg,
Until both, or just one, gives in to another way.

© PersephoneM

26th October 2011


Ghost Ship – New Poem

Walking these lonely corridors down which I was once led,
I cannot help but muse on all of those things long since dead.
The disturbing quiet has set in long ago,
The life dripped out bit by bit, so slow.
Where once was filled with life and noise,
Now there are just remnants of the boys and toys.
There’s no sign of those that lived, just the ghostly shape,
Whispering past me, playing with the hairs on my nape.
For so long now, it is the same old feeling,
My hope for a saviour slowly peeling.
Days and days have passed without seeing a soul,
I wander around, trying to seek out my goal.
Is there any other life aboard this grand ship, any at all?
I’ll take anything: human, insect, no matter how small.
Surrounded by memories of a time long forgotten,
Flashes of my childhood play on my eyes,
Keeping me trapped in time, decaying like an apple rotten,
Is it my truth or was it all lies?
Am I all alone, since the feeble have all fled?
Or is it in reality that I am simply dead?

© 15th August 2011


Of you, I am jealous and I cannot help it.
If only I could climb higher,
Elevating myself above petty emotions.
Underneath my sunny disposition,
At the very core, I am jealous.
Unlike others, there is no flaunting from you.
Of course not, you have class,
Although that does little to change my mind.
Even with reasoning, I still find it hard,
In case you hadn’t realised you have something I covet.
Eventually I may get over it, joining you in the club.
Until then, you have to be hidden,
And believe me, it pains me to do so.
I cannot bring myself to the constant ache,
Occurring when you post another milestone in his life.
It’s not your fault that you have been luckier.
Enough is enough for me,
Only I cannot end my pain by desire alone.
All I can do is hide away from you,
Unless my body complies with my heart.
According to the statistics, it can still happen.
It surrounds me all the time,
Opening my eyes to everyone else’s joy.
Un-bind my internal struggle to not feel bitter,
Envy is ugly. I’m hidden under layers of make-up.
Through which you cannot see.

© PersephoneM 27th July 2011

Note: Sometimes you cannot help how you feel deep inside and you have to do things that seem petty or childish just to cope. I want to apologise for who I am, but it is who I am so perhaps an apology is misguided.

Girl Racing


The big pink swarm swells down by the sea,
Pounding the pavement together, marching as one,
One force, one life, one entity for five thousand steps.
Racing together, fighting together,
All so different, yet all so similar.
The gathering of pink ladies for all around,
Who all walk over such familiar ground.
Some coloured pink from head to toe,
Others keeping the day’s theme quite low.
Fairy wings and wigs, flowers and garlands,
Tutus are added to complete the look.
Even Hell’s Angels are Hell’s fairies for the day!
The pink marching band brings up the rear,
Following after panthers, female sumos trapped in the heat.
The sun’s beating down, but they all continue on,
Reaching for a beach ice-cream, holding out for a crisp wine.
There are bands and strips, like tides within the pink sea,
With matching words and images, painting their pain.
For my friends who have won. And those who have lost.
Every two minutes there’s a fresh diagnosis,
Those who have lost. And to those that have survived…
Survival rates have doubled over the last thirty years.
… To those that still fight. I race for you. X X X.
Yet nothing can erase every woman’s fears,
For Nanny Annie. For the Next Generation. For a Cure.
Nor take away the pain or loss with a healthy prognosis.
We all stand together, over sixty thousand in total,
For Jack, Esther, Andrew, Beatrice and John.
Seek out that old pink afro, a cowgirl or two,
Join us down at the seafront and join the pink crew.
We’ll walk for miles, never losing our smiles,
Walking for you and for me, fighting for all of those in-between.
We’re all someone’s mother, sister, daughter or wife,
Raising money for research by walking the Race for Life.

© PersephoneM 24th July 2011.

In honour of all those who raced today, or over the past few months, or ever.

Alone, Part 2

You don’t need to have read ALONE to read this; they have thematic links is all! Another exclusive to this site and brand new today!

Another day, another forgotten girl,
Living silently right next to you and me,
Only you don’t see her, do you?
No, she walks past, unseen, speaks, unheard,
Eventually she’ll fade from reality. She wishes.

Like you, I don’t see her. But then I, too, am unseen,
One day it’ll change, I hope. One day… maybe,
Never noticed. Never known. Always alone.
Eat up all the lovely goodies, whilst ignoring me,
Lose me from your thoughts, if you ever had them,
You won’t miss me when I’m gone.

Six whole long weeks, just me in this place,
Under what impression makes that different?
My life is just me here, forgotten and sad,
Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I should try to,
End my solitary confinement.
Reality isn’t that easy. I’m in my fiction.

  © PersephoneM July 21st 2011.

Random Musings

Under foot
Dry, brittle
Familiar smell
From a boy
Long ago
Beating down
Dry, still
Time passing
Too fast.
A heartbeat ago
Life with the boy
Now long gone.

 © PersephoneM July 15th 2011.

Exclusive to this site and brand spanking new!


I dread the day, when we are all dressed in black,
When they gather around and then turn their back.
I fear the time, when all march together,
That day has strength, a gathering of feathers.
I fear the feeling of hearing the sobs,
Everyone scratching and clawing over their jobs.
I hate the bitter, argumentative kind,
Who can’t put it behind them just for one night.
I relish the feeling of blood everywhere,
With all of these people, there’s something I share.
I worry that they still do not understand,
It’s ritual for them to sob into their hand.
I cry deep down inside, yet no tear will flow,
Saved in the ducts until just I can go.
I worry about what the day will bring,
The gathering of love and all of my kin.
I hurt from the memory of six years past,
That the recurrence of this will always last.
I wish that it all could spill from my eyes,
And not remain hidden as I spew out lies.
I care about all, I don’t want to see them,
To regurgitate all and choke up with phlegm.
I threw away the key six short years ago,
I fear that this time my tears will flow.

© PersephoneM 16th April 2008

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