Featured

Come find me on…

With the school holidays coming to an end I will finally (hopefully) now be able to start making teeny tiny bird size steps towards taking my writing and blog in my chosen direction. This starts by letting you guys know of the different places you can find and interact with me. So, come find me on….now, i’m told I should do this often. I should self promote and scream about the different places that you can discover and interact with me….i’m crap at this, so instead this post is created roughly every six months, so here it is, the different spaces on this amazing web of infinity to which you can find me. Wordpress is such a great place for blogging and I do love it. However it is completely pants as an interactive platform and for this reason me and my lovely writing can also be found on…google plus

I also have a facebook page just for my blog,

 

 

and you can also put up with my ramblings over on twitter.

 

🙂 Karen…

Selene, be my light within my dark

Selene, are you here
for the whispers
of my waning soul?
As I slept beneath
your pearlescent beads
did you shroud
me from sight?
If I sit now and stare
upon your face
in the infinite depth
of darkness,
will you kiss me,
caress me, leave a
sheen of your energy
flowing through me?
As I wane will
you catch me…

Karen Hayward ©2017

Splitting the atoms of thyme

Time spent swimming in thyme
blue oceans of salted seas
flickering flames of warmth
and silence, just soft silence.
Like an eruption of chaos
volcanic lava spilling,
You rise, she rises
Noise erupts
Tiny atoms split
Split again
Split again
and split again
my deamon shatters among
this dark trilogy
of thought as thyme
fades, as time disperses
to become empty thoughts
in worthless verses.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image found on wordpress library

When love tastes so good damn pure …

I envy them, him, their love has a pureness seen only in the final pages of old dusty fairytale books, each kiss I believe renders them immortal, spells dispersed and magic created in the enchanted presence of such a love as theirs.
Such a simple existence, a moments kiss and passion fills their auras spilling outward, exploding into the melancholy day and yet, a kiss filled with so much desire and not an iota of indecency, as though they are God’s angels, as though their love is blessed by the heavens and coveted in white feathers. They speak with their eyes, knowing glances that say, ‘ill be back soon my love, but in these seconds without you, know only this, I exist for you, for you.’ I envy them, him, her, I envy them.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

This is an observational poem on a couple I see almost daily, in the latter part of their lives now they still love each other with a pure depth, she stands at the gate waving till he’s at the end of the road, where he gives her one last wave before he turns the corner… It’s a beautiful thing to watch.

The cracked remnants of tomorrow’s dreams

Can it be that love exists ‘neath blue skies
between the forest green vines of ivy
or on ancient mists of a moonlit sea
I find a tomorrow deep in his eyes
the speckled remnants of new paths aligned
between the broken cracks of history
a presence preserved in serenity
my love dances with singing butterflies
on nights empty echo and fierce rhythms
Our Selene hears the whispers of my soul
Whilst I drown in pearlescent kisses
configuring broken algorithms
beneath these blue skies I am whole
wondering about loves existence.

Karen Hayward ©2018 Image and words
First attempt at a *#Italianpetrarchansonnet*

The waters trickle, fall and weep.

Aside the listless waters of time
reflections fractured now stilled
in stagnant whispers of bleak void
an endless stream of magic borne
wars fought and promises sworn.

I see the contours of my soul on waters edge
Shimmering beneath the debris of existence
Illuminated by my darkest light
It reaches from out the depths of hell
to sooth the speckled witches spell.

But alas, I am neither elemental nor
celestial,
nor am I sister to Lilith or a soldier of the dammed
I am the waters curve, the rippled playground
as dragonflies dance upon my skin
stealing precious nectar for their King.

I am the reflection the mirrored voice
the distant echo of ancient blood
essence skimming on luna tides
the silent eyes suffocating in vivid blues,
drowning in the scent of knowing truths

I am the fractured, stagnated waters
curdled by minds descent
I am the Illuminated body of tides
empowered for my ascent
I am the lucid astral plane
the love of which you dreamt
I am the reflection, rippled in pain
I am the reflection, I am my pain.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Imageand words

Gone are the gentle days

Where once I heard the trickling
of liberation on summers evening
breeze as laughter danced between
the bubbles of sanity… Insanity.
Now I hear only a hollow glug
that creeps across my skin on
the knife edge of smashed shells
as you pour another and another
refilling your glass of despair.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found via Google search