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I forgot
Momentarily.
I forgot to look to the skies
As silver petals fell from the celestial heavens ,
And then I saw, and then I felt,
the angels golden breath upon my brow.
Worn down by words spat from Satan’s mouth,
I wonder is he devil sent?
Again I look up, I look up high,
silver petals falling from celestial skies,
the angels golden breath upon my brow
I feel the presence of the earth,
I feel the essence of now.
Karen Hayward ©2017
Image and words
Darkest Light
Consuming
and all drowning
my essence of night.
Deepest blue,
darkest burgundy,
it matters not,
my essence is cloaked
in this state, this void.
Think not of my night
and my aura as negative
for a dark state
can be a canvas.
A blank page for
something bright
to create. . .something
bright to form
my nights’ sky
and give it character.
and make it
come alive.
Yet it should consume me.
Darkness such as the night sky
should devour me, swallowing
my essence into oblivion.
Do you see me?
I am a mere whisper
of light lost in the echos of time. Yet,
when you lay me upon
your dark essence,
your canvas
becomes my art.
Your depth is my contrast.
I tip toe through your darkest blues
leaving illuminated kisses.
My essence, glimmers and glistens
upon your touch, for my light. . .
is love,
created by your darkness.
Words & Image
©5-2017 Locthiese/Karen Hayward
Check out more work crafted by the multi-talented Loc Thiese by clicking here.
As your alarm rings,
I would reach out
my hand to your skin,
grasp at your fingers,
embrace the last of
your sleep that lingers.
I would swallow down
my souls tug and use a
smile to hide my frown.
My lips would eagerly
devour the warmth of your
essence, kissing, greedily
the canvas of your form.
I’d curse the shortness of night
and the coming of morn.
I’d search the depth of your eyes
for a moment’s need sustained,
love spilling as the endless skies
passion radiating, desire burning
alarm ringing, bodies entwining,
souls yearning, I’d kiss you,
good morning.
Karen Hayward (c) 2017
Menstruating blood seeps through the
cracks of my hormones plunging me into the depths
of normality, to be female, so easily led by useless
emotions that spill across cheeks.
A jolt into reality to see what you see,
instead you show me the tainted
pages that already haunt my thoughts.
Aneath the crimson onslaught
I tear your soul from
words fought,
I leave a trail of massacre in my wake.
I leave a trail of massacre in my wake.
Karen Hayward ©2017
Words and image.
I lost my battle of innocence,
by choice,
It was my voice.
Lost my angelic-ness,
This is my mess.
I am tainted,
too late to go back.
What if i’m wrong,
and this is the devils track?
No difference,
It never is,
No one will truly call me his.
Karen Hayward ©2014 (edited 2017)
Image and words
Just as the rose,
with her luscious crimson
petals that peel open
before the Sun,
I peel open for you.
My flushed petals curling outward,
my colour, fluid and vi-
brant upon your words.
My floral fragrance
disperses upon your intent.
My blossom awaits your
touch and when I think
I am in full bloom,
my petals become a
little plumper, my colour a little deeper and my scent
becomes your very own personal pheromone,
answering to your
primal calls.
Karen Hayward (c)2017
Image and words.
Even as you sleep I feel you
clawing through the external
essence of my mind…Did i say clawing?
No more like freely walking,
my doors are unlocked,
my walls are down,
you need only ask and my every
answer is yours. Encapsulated within
your essence, lost deep in your intentions,
you have me ensnared within your grasp.
I am yours.
My desire is yours.
My need is yours.
My fantasies i give to you freely entwined
with my dark sensual self…Even as you sleep
I feel your essence taking what is yours as your
spirit wanders freely through my mind’s darkest corridors.
Karen Hayward ©2017
Light illuminated skies, clear crisp crackles of
plasma splitting atoms. My hand slipping into
yours. Fingers fumbling. Storms raging, rain
falling. My heart beating, a rapid
symphony of fear, of love, of fear, of love.
Silence. Your strong arms holding me near.
The infinite calm of your voice and the abandoned
trail of lust in your darkened eyes. A moments pause.
Chemistry in motion beneath dark skies with
stars hidden. . .
. . .behind storm clouds I can see
your silhouette because of those clear,
crisp crackles
of energy.
There’s not a cloud too stormy to keep
me from reaching for you. Your rain soaked dress
as it clings to your stars and galaxies . . .I pilot vessel through your
Milky Way.
As it clings it provides me with enough mental stimulation
to write sonnet after sonnet.
Sonnets of lust
of intrigue.
Consummation ensues.
My spirit sings at a star filled shore
and by your side I know, darkened
skies are no more.
Words & image(c) 5-2017
Karen Hayward/Locthiese
You can check out more work by the extremely multi talented Loc Thiese here
Lush raindrops falling on my soul.
I like to feel the rain soaking through my clothes,
to feel it as it cleanses and turns my soul so cold.
I like to feel the rain splashing on my skin,
dripping through my hair and freezing all within.
Some think that I am odd a stranger in the midst
of creation and the universe my life is just a wish.
I like to hear the raindrops tapping at the glass
they answer all the questions I’m too afraid to ask.
I like to feel the chill that echoes in the air…
then I like a steaming bath to wash away my cares.
With scents of heaven, paradise and love to share
I cleanse away my soul and sew up all the tears.
I lay beneath the water and listen to the beat
eyes closed I am lost in scent and to there I do retreat.
I like to feel the raindrops dripping on my soul
I like the steaming bath that makes me feel so whole.
I like the scent of earth, wet lavender in the rain,
I like the way it whispers my truly sacred name.
Karen Hayward ©2016 image and words.
blossomsworld 