Writing


something

it is,
was,
just something

something to reignite
the dampened flame

something to make me
laugh again

something to hold on to
for a few moments

something to breathe
the life back into me

something to smell,
touch and arch into

something to lose,
as quickly as was found

just something

*******





Perhaps it's the lilting cadence in a post

that will catch me out
I can fall sideways in to the flat of the day

the small vulnerable moments
when something innocuous can trip you off guard

An evocative smell or a memorable song
is overwhelming

sometimes

the light smell of a face powder.
a suggestion of vintage perfume

a random melody from a car radio
evokes searing memories
across the heart

and sticks in the throat
powerful, raw, achingly painful

l'm skating on the ice of sadness
*****
a late springing


snow topped hills
peek out upon the horizon

last weeks frost lingers
in the thick earth

the sun is higher in the blue,
volcanic ash-free skies

bare branches stretch out
proudly showing off their new buds

crowded cafe tables
clutter the streets

renewed vigour and hope
drowns out
the winter blues

daffodils stand tall
wave bravely,
a new hairstyle
trashed in the fresh breeze

exposed hands and feet
in open toe shoes, chilled

manicured toes and fingernails,
defiantly painted slut red

sunglasses perched
at the ready on head

breathing deeply of the sweeter spring air
the promise of new beginnings
*********

Pockets of life

she is still,
agly perched on the bed
unnoticed,
the safer option

a perifery of pain
in every road crossing,
each dusty word
hangs heavy and hot
in the stale air

cleft an open silence
skulking into her apron,
clenched fists
slammed deep
into the pockets
of change

the thin ties that bind
are taut
sinew like
cutting into her back
leaving deep wales

her skin searing
with heat
itching to be scratched,
her nails dig deep,
loughing up flesh
to feel, must feel it

her darkness shadows
misshapen memories
left against the wall

her apron
hides the dull ache
kept reserved
boxed, plain, simple

unspoken,
her guard is down
tensions press the forehead
a pulse throbs with urgency

her open flesh yearning
for the crumbs
in the pages of remembrance
between each sheath
each page
loves, lies, lives lived

hidden by life's procrastinations
her efforts to avoid change
and pain

the landscape of life
surrenders its waste,
she can smell it
taste it, fear it

dessicated leaves fallen,
branches reaching out
into the unknown,
bare
all knowing

she has watched them grow
change colour
like their moods

she needs to swallow,
gulps of succour
burning at her throat,
a venting,
the loss

the sleet trapped on her eyelashes
melts
and falls onto seared cheeks,
tears fall to burst

she falls
from the grey eiderdown
that threatens suffocation
beckoning
'take me'

the room suddenly suffused
with sunlight
offers succour,
no longer decayed
nor barren or bereft

overwhelming
layers upon layers
of calm,
she lay open,
exhausted
and weeping
Sore. Pain.
Alive.

S.A.F.W. 01/2010

*****








Something more




let us all become something more

strengthen our spirit
and grow from within

let us all become something more
create a tapestry of pleasures
to warm and fill us

let us all become something more
use compassion and empathy to
inspire others to dream

let us all become something more
replace fear with contentment
believe in our inner truths

let us all become something more,
lessening the emptiness felt
by the passing of lives,
the loss of love

let us all become something more,
forging uphill on a new path
renewed and full bodied



let us all become something more
to the echoes of laughter
we shall dance and dance and dance




let us all become something more

S.F.W. 01/2010