Poetry | Stories | Photography
I was there,
there in that place,
I was there.
You took my hand,
in that place,
You took my hand.
We were one,
within philosophy,
We were one.
They used theology,
torn asunder,
They used theology.
This is what we were,
killed for love,
This is what we were
and what we remain.
I saw her when she was relatively young,
gloomy and sulking for the first few years.
I never thought twice about her and me,
the grumbles and gloom would pass away.
I saw her when she started to see me,
she had shallow roots and disliked the frost.
I never thought she would ask me to stay,
when she bloomed, she took my breath away.
the indigo sun
scorching the land
a dispossessed heart
no more cares to give
the flames turn hostile
entitled to own this land
burning books is easy
a destruction of souls
satisfies a dark hunger
fueling the Flames
everything ends
not until the Flames find them all
looking through your eyes
paper lanterns glow to illuminate the night
a foreign language, place
becoming you for a while
complex scents of incense, herbs, spices
memories linked to scent
feeling what you keep safe
memories and moments create understanding
destiny crawls toward you
scents, words, and the glow of the lantern
nothing can save you now
touching your sword and falling into death
A summer dress in winter
Sometimes green, sometimes black;
never brown or orange.
Unconventional stockings
A contrast of colours that stands out;
offensive to the conservatives.
Elegant and controlled
Walking in every nature season;
odd looks fail to offend.
A daydream within a dream
Falling madly in love with the park bench;
continuing the journey.
between your ego and my eyes
within a touch so randomly lit
outside of our love in the woods
within a kiss or a cuddly time
inside our hearts, which beat fast
within this silk thread that binds
Between the reds, we find love
The sky is above,
and the sea is below.
Between the two sits a lighthouse, or is it just a pier?
Colours swirl, yet all is quiet at the lighthouse.
If you exist, I will come
and whisper about worlds not yet created.
We will laugh
and
cry with the sea.
Above mindless human interactions,
you think of all the black and white pictures;
there is always something to remind you.
Free from the judgement of your family,
you can sit and think without anger or sorrow;
something will always be there to remind you.
Above human interaction and the love you crave,
you find a friend to tell you stories of the forest;
you long for something there to remind you.
Snow moves like mountain ash,
yet we look up too late.
Who will save us now?
Fate takes the snow,
makes it fall differently,
and we are whole.
We continue to move.
There is only death and decay
to leave behind
since the great war of 2046.
morning routines to fight the aging
trawling through the fashionista waves
walking awkwardly in gusts of wind
dealing with amateur vagina whisperers
working and doing important things
evening meals, cleaning and dreaming
being a woman of modernity
C & K 