Month: January 2015

A sexual muse.

Distance engulfs the miles, as I knew it always had.

Yet still you wander at ease at random points,

my sexual desire, my pleasurable muse

the unseen fantasy as my fingers explore

needing more.

The door closed many moons ago,

we both know, as the final strands slip by

and life takes grip of our fantasies and

shows us the realities.

Distance engulfed the miles,

from the very first smile.

And sometimes for a fleeting moment I see you

as I dream, smiling eyes burdened and held down

or a whisper of your voice enticing me in.

And for that moment I wonder still

how good it could’ve been.

Bare sexual pleasure spilling from

our naked bodies

unsaid truths

and unspoken desire.

Distance engulfs the miles as I knew it always would.

Alice’s hole.

The futile existence of

an unforgotten society,

built upon the misfits of reality.

Here we stand in naked truth.

Our souls upon our sleeves,

our hearts the stepping stones

of corporal punishment.

An example.

Of the white rabbit in Alice’s world,

where the queen reigns and

in dictatorship, a fantasy

of the ugly truth.

No wardrobe to step into,

No light illuminated with snow,

No Lion to make right all that is wrong,

for now you are the strong, in this

battered corrupt world of egotistical

sexual exploits that fulfil a desire borne

not unto this world,

but another. One so broken

no passion can reach it,

no burning flame to light

the rabbit hole.

We are lost.

Forever to be too small for the giant door.

Karen Hayward copyright 2015.

Dandelion.

A weed now grows where

a flower, once stood.

Beyond the whispering trees,

in the abandoned woods.

A backdrop of fog, grey and white

pushing her forward

through the desperate night.

Stones at her feet where soil should lay

a breeze travels through,

lost, alone, thrashing

all in its way.

A weed now stands,

where a flower once dropped,

petals of pink

as she began to sink.

Her fragrant scent sits soft in the air,

before that day,

when she used to care.

Now her heart lays bare

as summer comes,

and autumn leaves,

as her world turns cold

and she grows old.

Too soft the wind told,

too pretty and bold,

a gift as precious as solid gold.

A weed now grows, strong,

its stem rooted and long,

she points her eyes toward

the struggling skies.

Remembering the soft pink

ebbs of time,

when all around things were fine.

She whispers on the moist white air

that life has never been fair.

A weed now stands where a

flower once grew,

her appearance has changed,

but her hearts still true,

for she is the flower

that you once knew.

Childhood cancer.

This is my beautiful and amazingly strong baby niece Delilah, she is 9 months old and fighting (with all her strength) a rare and aggressive form of cancer (stage 4) that is ravaging her tiny little body.

Delilah is the daughter of my youngest sister Dannielle, she has a big sister herself called Isabella. Delilah’s mum and dad (Dannielle and Antony) have set this fundraising page up because they are desperate to be able to spend as much time as they can with their daugher, as a family. Right now, more than ever Delilah needs her family at her side, they are her strength. She is currently undergoing regular chemotherapy which involves spending time at Great Ormond Street (an absolutely amazing hospital) Money raised through this fundraising will be used to ensure Delilah has her mum and dad at her side when she needs them most, it will ensure that Isabella has the chance to get to know her little sister, it will give Delilah days out int he sunshine to see things that make her smile, to see anything that is not a hospital environment, it will be used to buy Delilah toys, to fill Delilah’s days with happy thoughts, with happiness. Thank you for reading, please donate, if you cannot donate then please share this post. xx

http://fnd.us/c/8veD1

Morning glory.

The silent echo of the all but empty streets

whisper in a constant beat.

As the street lights dull to a muted haze

and people sleep, in the beds, where they lay.

Lonely skies that illuminate death, losing the fight

as the earth resets and the sky becomes light.

Birds singing for their morning feed

surviving through their most basic needs.

The silence broken,

as the world is woken.

A united front of human life,

death to the night,

with our metaphorical knives.

The silence has gone and been,

the morning glory by some was seen.

The world awakes

As the new day breaks.

The still of the morning.

I sometimes wonder, as I sit watching the world awake,
whether insanity comes for my soul to take.
As sleep avoids this broken dream,
I ponder all that life can mean.
Awake as the birds call song,
my nights are short, my days are long.
I watch the moon wave goodbye
leaving behind an empty sky.
I hear the earth chattering away,
spring born life comes out to play.
I find peace,
hiding away in my corner seat.
As the world lays sleeping
I am honoured to be peeping,
At the silent world outside our dreams
Alone, in the dark,
it seems.
So I wonder whilst sleep avoids this girl,
am I lucky to see this silent world?

A world of dickless runts.

I came upon a time of once,

a world filled with

impossible cunts.

I hid amongst a world of rats,

learned to recognise

the immortal twats.

I had a tip, a way, a trick

that protected me from

the hard up dicks.

I lived by luck

turning my back

and not giving a fuck.

They clawed at me, bit by bit

tearing my skin,

the little shits.

I once came upon a time,

where darkness won,

and life was mine.

I left behind the

haunting swines

I lived this life,

and it was fine.