Posts Tagged ‘ TTC ’

Petulance – Poem

Many others are allowed to succeed, yet not me,
I am deemed unworthy for the joy of new times,
Revelling in their moments, boasting with earnt glee,
All around here new blood always surrounds me,
Crying in sorrow when others end their bumpy path,
Lacking far more than I, yet no luck for me,
Enough of this unfairness and pain. End it now, please!

Evil people need their punishing, what have I done?
Leaving a part of me behind, losing it over and again,
Chances are changing, percentages slowly dropping,
Always the same feelings of wanting, failing,
Reeling as my heart breaks yet again, blood dripping,
Inside depression fills me as I simply watch,
Money seems so important, but does not buy me this.
(c) 2011

Envy All Someday, Yes? – Poem

Envy is a sin, apparently, to some.
A deadly sin that will be punished.
Some live their lives by a sin.
Yet live happily with no remorse,

Escaping the confines of a tear.
Always walking a fine line of life.
Side stepping pain and anguish.
Yellow rays of light make their life complete,

Editing their truth for others to see.
And lying their way through life.
Stuck in the sand and blinkered.
You’d think compassion was a given,

Even though their life passes by, untouched.
All for one and one for none.
Suffering alone with hardship.
Yes, life isn’t always easy.

© 22nd February 2012

And Nothing – Poem

Through the mysterious red door in my lilac wall,
I peered through the small keyhole,
And gasped!
I’d snuck a tiny peak, just a small glimpse,
Of the future, of the fateful ending ahead,
And smiled!
It was then thatI knew the steps my feet would take,
To deliver me to the smiles and light I saw,
And desired!
This is what I saw:
Laughter, dancing, singing,
Family, friends, all generations,
Together again, cuddles, love.
And a life so huge that nothing compared,
Nothing missing.
The door’s gone, leaving only the cold lilac wall,
There’s no red door, no door at all, no window,
Nothing to free me.
That future I glimpsed is fading, falling further away,
Hearts are growing colder, stony defences to refuse or destroy,
Nothing feels.
The barren natural environment is dropping,
Freezing in mid-laugh, mid-song, all family and friends,
Turning to ice…
… And smashing into tiny red dotted cubes.
My room’s narrowing, claustrophobic cries caught,
Into my paralysed throat,
The small tiny keyhole of light built into the lilac,
Brickwork is far too far away now,
Soon I’ll be in the dark, my future flushed,
Down the drain,
And nothing but my bones,
Will remain.

© 23rd December 2011

Substitute – Poem

Apparently I have a voice,
In this impossible choice,
To put another one first,
And make either place worse.
This is my best chance,
To be forgotten with a glance,
To give away part of my heart,
And rip my seams apart.
I could sleep all through the night,
With not even an echo of a fight,
I could silence the screams,
And have uninterrupted dreams.
Except all they would do is scare,
Bolts of pain will hit like a flare,
The heart with a missing hole,
There’s not enough blood for the toll.
To be valiant and to be brave,
Or give in to what I crave,
To put another above me,
So in their future they can be free.
Or remain true to my selfish roots,
Shielding myself from the new shoots,
That mock me from their heights,
As my dreams fail to take flight.
Should things remain or drastically change,
Wallowing in a self-pity far out of range,
And can I risk losing my buffer,
All for a civilised supper?
Which decision is for the best?
To keep me on a par with the rest?
Or to grant prospects to another?
And keep waiting, with the need to smother.

© 2/11/11

 

The Gods Are Drowning – 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 upward, 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 numbing 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 goes, perhaps the wrong one will win,
Reality is much harsher and the Gods don’t 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 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 down,
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.

© 26th October 2011

Controlling Power – Poem

Its control is over the oceans,
Causing the tidal flows.
In and Out. Up and Down.
Giving Life, taking life.
One follows the other cyclically,
Inevitably it does travel,
Across the high heavens.
Set your watch and it will never fail,
High elevations and lowest troughs.
Its milky cup flows over with life,
Decaying stench of blood,
Contaminates it all.
Its life cycle is constantly repeating,
Sevens control and dictate,
Down on Earth, up in the high heavens.
My Controller was three days early,
And yet its power over me always remains.

© 14th February 2011

Ending 2011 – Poem

Blonde or brown?
Tanned or fair skinned?
Covered in freckles or barely one?
Laidback and easy, silent to boot?
Or moody and bipolar, never ever mute?
Hyper and bubbly, climbing the walls,
Or sensible and older, assessing the falls?
Slightly self-centred and always in control,
Or deflecting with a humour that can only be droll?
Book smarts or common sense?
Chubby or slim?
What could it be: Her or Him?
Would it be as simple as one of the other,
Or a unique, fresh blending creating another?

© December 2011

As we end 2014, something I wrote three years ago when the dream of ever having a child seemed so far away. Who knew that 9 months after this was written, I would be taking a pregnancy test?

Who knew that three years after this was written I would be spending my Christmas and New Year with my toddler and a baby on the way?! I never thought I’d ever find out what our child would be like I describe in this poem. I truly never thought I’d get the chance to do it twice!