Fucked up and broken the devil has spoken,
a black hole of despair and nobody cares.
There’s drugs and there’s hate at
those red flaming gates
and the horned one calls
to those that will fall.
He offers them drink,
to
watch
as
they
sink.
He takes from their soul…
a bit at a time,
feeds them back life
built upon crime.
And none of them see,
they think they are free,
as the devil moves their hanging strings
hanging down from his flaming wings.
I hop
and
jump
on the broken stones
and hope
that it is enough.
I walk the path of the broken souls,
my spirit soars above.
I skip along the broken road
and dream
of what it is too love.
If only they would stop searching the endless paths of
hopeless fools that dominate the green green grass
of earth. If they could just stop looking to appease the
lost souls of the blind clones and their followers, they
could be free. They could strip away the insecurities
of an unstable society and walk the balance beam of chaos,
one foot in front of the other as their soul flies on ahead
to clear the way. If for a moment they could shake away
their prudish thoughts, let passion enter their minds, brush
away the dirt of a gentleman’s rule, they could know ecstasy.
The creeping wave that floods through the perfectly tuned body;
inhibitions left at the door, clothes strewn across the floor,
desire in the fingertips of fire, passion no longer
denied as the flames burn inside.
If only they could walk this path, leave behind the sins of
the clueless few who fear the strong. So much fear for the other side,
for those that walk bare skinned without sin beneath a veil
of devilish fun with tantalizing tales of lust, stories of trust
and moments in time of naked bodies never meant to
be mine. Alas, the path is their choosing all mottled in grey
always concerned for the place where they lay.
A gravitational pull that speaks to my soul
whispering thoughts of a love I used to know.
I close my eyes and see you gone,
I block out the words of the hand written songs.
A void in space, a memory forgot,
returning now as the sun gets hot.
The day in history that time passed by,
I tried to forget, the lie that was a lie.
I’m drawn back in as the seasons move
my soul still searching for the truth.
So now I pause and accept this love
as ever the memories are not enough,
Blue skies above my head, memories of the
single bed, sun warming my porcelain skin
I’ll stop now, I’ll think
of the one single love that took me to the brink.
I’ll search the deep blue sky for the memories I
choose to forget,
I’ll let the sun warm my heart and the strings of regret.
This sky, today is for you,
a moment to remember that the love was true.
A room full of faces with stories too tell,
children that crash, children that yell.
Some of them tired, some of them beat,
there’s coffee to sip and cake to eat.
Each story the same, each child so different,
battling parents, ready to implement.
A moment each month to stop and share,
surrounded by people that actually care.
The sun is too hot, the sky is too blue,
finally people that know this is true.
In a world full of face’s where nobody see’s,
I sit in a room, and finally feel free.
Hey guys (and gals). Sorry I’ve been missing in action recently, I promise I have still been writing and have lots and lots of new poems to share. When I created this blog a few years ago I didn’t imagine for a moment that people may actually stop and read my words, it’s a journey I never dreamed I would take. Along the line, I’ve made some super friends and been lucky enough to experience some super amazing writers, I thank every single writer/blogger that has chosen to follow my blog, thank you. So, why have I been so super busy lately? I got too thinking a while back about how we are in control of our own lives, we decide the paths that we wish to walk down. So, I am excited to say that I decided it was time to take my writing to the next level and have created an e-book that can be purchased on amazon here. This first poetry book uses poetry to explore the amazing journey of love, from adolescence through to adulthood.
I feel passionate that poetry should be accessible to everyone,
it is an expression of language,
of life,
and everyone should get to experience and share in this.
Fading Memories and Forgotten Wishes.
Karen Hayward.
blossomsworld 