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…

Breathe fire upon lost morsals of reality. 

Breathe fire into my dying mind

Awaken the cognitive notions 

Of explosions limited by the 

Silent implosions. Reality is 

In motion, the orgasmic pleasure 

Of devourity coursing through 

Life’s purple lines…Breathe 

Fire i to my dying mind. 
Karen Hayward*©2017

Image and word’s


Blindness to societies reality. 

How blind must we be 

To believe the choice is free? 


Another woman’s fantasy. 

How blind must we be,

That we cannot comprehend reality? 

Adequate education? Is a fallacy. 

Broken assumptions they’re carefree,

Our hate, is pure insanity. 

Water the root to grow the tree

Teach our girls love isn’t free,

And teach the boys 

there’s no choice to flee. 

How blind must we be? 

To assume the choice makes us free. 
Karen Hayward ©2017 image and word’s.

The door slam.

You ever had your hand hover so close to 

the door you can feel the breeze whizzing 

across your face in anticipation for the slam? 

You ever tire of expecting respect from a world 

so self imposed, they can’t even see it is their

own fair hands that are tainted in the blood

that will carry them to the devil’s door?

Have you ever felt that lunge as the rope 

tugs you down and you turn to see the

devil smirk ..and oh how I wish

I could say the rose tinted glasses 

of her mate…but have you ever felt that 

knowing of being purposefully second, 

the fall back guy when the world 

collapses not worthy  to stand at 

their side….or behind ..or in front  

Just the empty echo within a shadow of a shadow. 

You ever felt the dirty stench of a smirk 

emitted from the puppeteers lips?  Soon 

after their well crafted words of guilt,

shame and display of visual imagery.

Oh but the dance of vanity a tango for two. 

You ever felt that cool breeze across 

flushed cheeks as the door slams shut?
Karen Hayward ©2017 image and word’s
A poem based on a combination of observation, infj personality trait ‘the door slam’ and reflection. 

Peel open your broken eyes. 

I pity the puppeteer playing a lonesome game

pulling, tugging, delving into shame. The narcissist 

has a dictionary, armed and ready to use. 

They can pull you into a world of wonder, 

splendour pouring from their fingers

working you like the puppet that you are. 

And when you tire of the game 

when your arms hurt from the constant 

worship and your words run dry they will cry. 

Cry. Cry. Cry.

Cry words of loss and abandonment to fill 

your soul with the murky stench of guilt.

They will cry. 

And the puppeteer in gleeful splendour 

shall once again control the strings 

whilst you believe it’s love they sing…

But alas my pitisome broken dear, 

The narcicists controls your fear

They cannot lose, they must keep you near. 
Karen Hayward ©2017

Lost in an adult world. 

And when I wake from slumber 

I am but a child lost in the realm 

of adulthood. 

A child fearsome of the dark 

Searching the heavens for that 

Shining star. 

Lost is my armour, my strength, my fight

I am a child, a seed of the light. 

Angel wings above, auras warmth unseen

A glare in my lost eyes

The only thing I know…

Is too look to the skies. 

Lost in a realm of darkness

I am a child lost in an adults world. 
Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found in Pinterest. 

Ignorance sure ain’t bliss. 

If truth be spoken and lies erased 

Life forsaken, spirit raised.

Then ponder me for just a mo,

Let’s sit and watch the peacock show. 

And when all is done, left alone, 

Sat upon your empty throne,

I ponder then do they know,

Who will love you when they go. 

For carry then their tainted mind

Transcendence they will not find.

Ignorance is sure not bliss

We are not forgiven when gone amiss.  

Karen Hayward ©2016

Image and words.