Broken dreams and empty skies.

Speckled grains of broken dreams,

ripping holes in all i’ve seen.

Empty eyes, heart long gone

birds sing a lonely song.

My feet are bare against the grass,

how long will this emptiness last?

My skies are black and greying too,

as buds burst into a new.

As flowers scream into the light,

and the moon dances through the night,

and nothings wrong,

and nothings right,

my broken dreams are out of sight.

Karen Hayward (c) 2015.

Help the tv has control!

Sit back enjoy a cup a tea,
feet up, watch the tv.
Let my muscles go to waste;
as the media dictates my tastes, and
Some lady screams
from my oversized screen,
that this is life,
this is what it means.
She tells me the date, the time,
that the world is over run by
Poverty and crime.
Don’t read those words,
come watch the show,
It tells you everything,
That you need to know.
Here let me help, take my hand,
As I introduce you to la la land.
It all feels so soft, comfy and so,
As the tv tells me what i need to know.
I think I am lost, or maybe found,
I can’t hear over this drismal sound.

Karen Hayward ©2015.

Tingling lunar rays of light.

I see you; as your shining light illuminates my sky

of subtle blue, as your mottled skin reflects the

light of a thousand rays, as we say goodbye to day.

I see you; as you climb the skies to dance alongside

the dying stars of yesteryear. As you thrive

to be seen amongst the endless darkness

of unknown space.

I see you, I feel the ebbing tune you sing,

the mighty change your full face brings,

I hear the distant howls of the lost, as

their souls turn a lighter shade of wild.

And my spirit soars, excitement skipping

through my veins as your light skims across

my bare breast, innocence lost as the

beast inside scrambles for release.

And I know, for a fleeting moment, all can

be mine as your light traces the sins

across my skin. Tingling with

anticipation the death filled sky

is my saviour, my reward, my Goddess.