Knowing that we are a soul
among souls within the
Infinite source…

… Does not make us an
awakened soul.

Then does…Standing
firm within
the shadows strong in
our convictions, aware
in our beliefs… Perhaps.

Or perhaps it is when
our awareness screams
louder than our ego,
when we care more for                                                                                                for the ripples moving from us,
then the ones heading at us,                                                                                       

Perhaps being awakened is when                                                                              we know the where about’s of our                                                                      every ripple and choose
to protect as the ebb along their path…

Karen Hayward ©2018

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Black Leather and Red Kisses

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Will you bind me in tomorrow’s kisses
My skin bare against black leather
Squirming, pleading with wishes
and tender lips as soft as feathers.

Will you lose yourself in eyes of innocence,
fingers caught between flaming curls
Pushing pulling testing resilience
Let the inner she, unfurl.

encapsulate her essence in hues
of Technicolour, tickled fingers trailing
between the beats, just her, you
And passions fires truly flaming

A rare puzzle piece beyond defining
Would you embrace the effort in refining.

Karen Hayward © 2018

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The Scorpion knows, the Scorpion bites…

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Sometimes you can bite a tongue too deep,
Awaken a dormant sleeping beast,
A Scorpio was never born to be meek
Her protective stance is her sleep…

But scales must be aligned, to be fair
You ever wondered how she got there?
A Lone walker, she needs no one to care
Self destruct, from a single source they share.

Now silence echoes as the future calls
A blip on the radar she will cut the cord
Pull at the lines and break her own fall
At best it will leave her just a little bit sore.

For meekness was never her skin
and respect not given where dues
Is the strength it now brings
as she wanders away,
to forget about you, for the loss
of respect, where respect was due.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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..and they bottled the good the bad and the ugly

… And so he collected pain in small jars and labelled them the past, with a footnote for the future…

… And so she collected pain in small jars and labelled them the future with a footnote for the past…

… And when she appeared he knew within his core…

… And when he appeared she knew it was her call…

… And those jars of pain that belonged to another, they whispered, shouted, screamed and demanded take cover…

… Believing her to be the devil…

…he opened up their lids at the first hurdle and let their essence spill…

… But she was the angel sent to save him..

… And so in fear she tumbled, the jars fell smashed upon the floor…

… And now she drowns in his despair no hand reaching there…

… For he was the angel sent to save her…

… And now, alone, she wonders if he was the devil.

…and they collect pain in small jars upon a shelf…

KH©2018

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When Helios Paints

I wonder will I ever paint the page
the way Helios paints the skies,
His brush stroke smoothing the sharp
edge of night, erasing the darkness,
Lush blades of grass crying dew drop tears
as the horizon sets ablaze in vivid screams
of orange spilling between the
dank scent of nature waking
tiny birds with tickling rays
caressing Gaia into life
and for a brief moment there
is only her, only nature,
only beauty and my soul breathes…

..and I wonder will I ever
paint my page in the same way Helios paints the dawn.
Karen Hayward © 2018

Image copyright Lothar M Kirsch

Shattering essence of voice

For a fleeting moment space was mine
designed beyond sight
Vulnerability of heart, takes flight
as thought and words soon fly.

If asked, I’d sit three seats to the left
Somewhere between here and mars
I’d converse silently, just me and the stars
and declare my wishes to skies of dark.
It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last.

Those twinkling lights have long known your name,
In twilight battles to drive the devil insane
I tell Selene my secrets
I’m not sure she hears and never certain it matters…

I’m not always sure anything matters Living seems only to flatter
We’re specks trying to etch our names into the infinite
spending lifetimes searching
hopelessly for the lost scent of a love we once had
And in the grander scale of things

…I’m never certain that anything matters

Then he whispers and my darkness shatters.

Karen Hayward © 2018

To Purge, to purge, to purge

Some people eat to purge
They devour platefuls of
Love, spoonfuls of hate
Bowls spilling with disgust.

Some, drink vodka, gin
Whiskey and bottled beer
Swigging back pain
Sipping on indifference.

For some, it is one more
run, sprinting back the tears
Curling the fears, stretching
the broken fragments clear.

I purge on the dark recesses
of my skull, pull away at
silver threads, devouring
memories made to break.

I lose myself in the silence
of melancholy let it swim
naked through my veins
Tearing me with each stroke.

I let each one fall, tasting the depth
of their essence, let it
ricochet through me in
forgotten undertones of being.

I purge myself through the
Lost memories of my ancient
voice, capturing them within
A moment, then release,
as my lungs breathe and my
eyes smart at the purging.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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Howling call of night…

I hear the howling winds they drag me from my slumber,
Trees screaming, leaves pleading, debris flying,
Rain falling, heavy, denting, slamming on windowpane,
Where now is Selene among this raging storm,
I search for calm and find only the descent of
crimson mist, I search for light… But the soul craves darkness
Which has long arrived, I search for hope but Pandora
was left astray, unlocked…
I hear the startling call of objects dragged through
the storms mouth, teeth bared, blood dripping,
I hear the emptiness of atoms
the raging storms of nature
the familiarity of night
sat alone, as insomnia
Kisses away the shadows
that haunt.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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Beats within the ebbing tide

I dive down deep swimming
between the throbbing waves
as the ocean embraces my curves.
Lose myself in the silent pull
of Poseidon’s love as he moves gently                                                                        through my wild mane of flaming hair
and there deep within his kingdom
I pause, feel the suffocation of desire
drowning my soul, igniting my spirit,
the burn of love within my chest that beats                                                            in search of rhythm. In search
of you and eyes I long to swim in.
The ocean kisses my porcelain skin
caressing my naked liberation…
Your ocean beats within my soul.

Karen Hayward ©2017

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