Month: February 2015

Poor no more.

A tale of the times,

of unspeakable crimes.

The rise of his word,

above the screams can be heard,

from the tops of the buildings

where they watch for the killings.

The poor on the ground,

what a muttering sound.

Confused and alive,

no one hears their cries.

They’re not the poor of the poor,

they’re the poor that did more.

They worked all the hours,

grasped hold of the power.

They bettered themselves,

looked after their health.

And the man on his throne

did not see as they roamed,

as they heard and they saw,

what it was to be poor,

in this world full of law.

So they rose,

when?

nobody knows.

They stood side by side,

refusing to hide,

held their heads up on high,

no longer they sigh.

They screamed through the tops,

battled the cops.

There was one there was two,

the numbers soon grew.

A revolution of sort,

some of them caught

held up in a cell,

still they did yell.

The coming was soon,

at midnight? at noon?

The poor had a voice,

the poor made a choice,

they were poor,

for sure,

but they knew what they knew,

were no longer a few.

Together they stood,

as they always should

an abundance of mass,

they had listened in class.

They stood for it all,

they refused to fall,

the poor are the poor,

one day,

no more.

The lonely path.

How i’ve longed to love you so,

for days to pass, to come and go.

How i’ve wished away the stars,

to keep myself upon this path.

Silent words to the universe,

promised wishes and muttered curse.

But never did you see me so,

and now my love, I must go.

The end has come,

for this lonely show.

Karen Hayward (Copyright 2015.)

The roar amongst the brambles.

You cannot follow where I must go,

the days are long, the nights are slow.

Darkness forms inside my head,

even Satan fills with dread.

Heart fuelled by love alone,

weakness gone, my strength has grown.

Feathered wings of dawn and dusk,

the soft scent of eternal musk.

spirit soarsĀ for this ride,

take cover, go please, and hide,

for the lions roar inside my mind,

refuses now, to be ever kind.

Karen Hayward (Copyright 2015)

Goodbye my dear winter queen.

Nonet.

#awinvp8

Goodbye my dear winter Queen.

Blue skies above and a hazy sun,

cold crisp air awakens my lungs,

as buds burst looking for fun,

the snow queen leaves the room,

spring has come too soon,

daffodils swoon,

retreating,

chagrin,

Queen.