Amber and Blue.

karenart

Amber and Blue

When you think of me before I do
When you think of me instead of you
my everything in a world untrue
You are the silver and the gold
The amber and blue
A crescendo of rhythm in my heart unfolds
the little things you do,
is the everything I hold.
From amber and blue
aura everlastingly bold
I can feel love’s brightest glow
Let the the notions of love
be the binding glue
in you i find the beauty
In all that you do
Vibrant and alive..
like amber and blue
I can only cherish the fates that made you mine
A flaming joy in crystalline time
You are the sparkle the starlight sublime
The gravity that holds me close to you.
the beauty of love in the amber and blue

(c) 2016 Michael J. Garland
(c) image Karen Hayward

More of Michael’s amazing poetry can be found on his Google plus page…

https://plus.google.com/+MichaelJamesGarland/posts

Lose yourself in crystal blues.

victorianbed

Can you feel my need in every

word expressed spilling across

paper and nothing less. Poetic beauty

sensual art let me paint desire across

my skin so you may admire my form in

pure sin. Butterfly kisses across hips on

soft skin of finest porcelain, I am lost in need

an internal yearning for your seed. Give into me,

let my fingers roam where kisses trail let me taste

your lips, your tongue, give me the parts

not reached by the sun. Devour me with

Renewed vigour, take me, use me, hold

me tight within your arms….hold me

close become my calm.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Image found on interest.

Lost in the atoms of time.

My soul belongs not of this time,

I’m a lost essence, displaced.

I configure humanity through rhyme,

Forgetting the social rules of saving face.

I’m submerged in a reality of mine,

Iron clad armor coated in red lace.

I tell the world I am doing fine…
But I’m lost among the atoms of time,

when men were gentle and ladies fine,

I am rooted, seeing among the deaf and the blind,

I’m lost among the atoms of time.
I long for the hearts of the kind,

When life was filled in the days,

I search for the lights in the mind,

But I find only dark souls gone astray.

I yearn for elegance, petticoats to dine

Covered in flowers and purest white lace

To sit and talk among my very own kind.

 

But I’m lost among the atoms of time,

when men were gentle and ladies fine,

I am rooted, seeing among the deaf and the blind,

I’m lost among the atoms of time.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

Without the Rainbow Pieces.

Photo courtesy of Walter E. Gantt. ©2016

‘Pieces of a Rainbow.’

waltergannt

I feel a vast emptiness inside of me,

spreading through the black storm

clouds, I search for my Rainbow and

I recall you gave it away.

And I search  for my love

and I remember you gave it away.

And I wonder where is my passion

and I recall you gave up that too.

And I ponder the way we once connected,

perfectly synchronized

and I don’t even try as you gave that away…

And now I wonder what is left…

A future?

A future without love

without passion

without soul

…is a slow and torturous death.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Image used with permission ©Walter E. Gantt. 2016

Please see more of his amazing photography here on g+

His wonderful photography can also be

viewed and brought here at Fine Art America.

My feet walked in a whisper

 

Eye’s upon the floor my feet walked in a whisper.

Hair upon my face my lips spoke in silence.

Skin beneath my clothes my body was a vessel.

Silence in my mind my soul was empty.

Darkness in my heart was my only light.

 

Hiding from the world was my only salvation.

Tears of frustration my only relief.

It took everything I had to walk to this beat.

Fear, the cast iron shackles.

Fear, the iron the bars.

Fear, the obstacles of life.

Fear…the sharpened knife I used to cut away

the puppeteers strings.

Fear, keeps me in the shadows.

Fear, keeps me hidden from sight.

Fear, the nightmare that haunts me on the darkest nights.

Fear, the self regulated ego for belief in the worth of the self

is invalid when whispered from my tongue

in the darkness of my self induced shadows.

 

Karen Hayward ©2015

 

 

 

Cidar chasers and bong in hand.

Do you remember? I was ninteen you were twenty one. UCAS letter in hand,
I had the world at my feet.
Dole check in your pocket,
you were already beat.

Lost souls we met in the dark,
Cidar chasers bong in hand
Sexual energy flowed between,
Whilst I called all the ones
You walked the miles
To meet me beneath the sun.

Escape for you was futile,
Your kin my kin,
Deprivation their everyday,
So when it came that I should leave,
together we packed for an adventure,
You see.

UCAS letter in the bin along side my forgotten dreams,
Mystery became secrets are darkness fell,
My body became flesh disconnected from spirit.
My beauty lost, I could see no light,
As you ripped apart my fragile belief,
and stole away my strength to fight.

I worked, you slept, I cleaned, you searched,
Eyes wide open identity broken,
you sat on that couch and he uttered the words,
and I never understood, but for the thrills,
Dysmorphic belief,
the soft tender eyes captured in stills.

But to wander and wonder and despair at the love,
the anger that reigned
the lies that fell true,
you begged and plead
and you told me a lie,
I asked that you be the thing that I need.

I see you sometimes, you came back to this place.
You live a life of pretance where i’m the mistake.
I wonder still if strength found you at all,
did you admit to yourself,
or did you let yourself fall?

Karen Hayward ©2016.

Vulnerability of darkness.

As I wake in the dead of night,
Illimination my only light,
I see the sights from which I fight,
I am weakened by the deadly night.

As I sit in silent reflection
spectres evaluate their vulnerable selection,
I know my light will be my detection,
I am weakened by the gentle reflection.

As I puzzles how shadows move,
On a cloudy morn with no moon to sooth,
I wonder what the devil takes and what I lose,
As I puzzle over how shadows move.

As I sit in mornings glory
Life, another persons broken story,
I winder if darkness is always so gory,
As I wonder in mornings glory.

Karen Haywarf ©2016.

Curiosities of a mud filled sky.

image

image

Cold, wet earth.
Grey clouds and droplets of rain.
Daffodils already through, garden readying anew.  Transformation begins. Vibrational reflections felt, heard and required.
Even in winter, I come here when tired.
Damp dirt to awaken my spirit.
Life’s cycle, clearance nearing completion.
Spring will bring new hope.

Karen Hayward ©2016.

If I keep moving I can avoid detection, walk unseen on the streets of distraction.
I can run through alleys of fear in darkness, not looking where I am going.
I can avoid eye contact, no one need see my broken spirit.
If I keep moving, impulsively I can heal, band aids of despair I no longer care.
If I keep moving you can’t see me and I can’t see what it is to be me.
If I keep moving at speed and refuse to take heed, I can transform, I can become the mask, a sanctury at last.
If I can keep moving, I can forget, I can fight, I can survive my darkest nights I can endure the sharpened knife in this loveless war.
But this coldness isn’t me and if I keep moving i’ll forget the reason to be.
If I stop moving your light penetrates my dark.
If I stop moving the universe directs my way.
If I keep moving I can outrun the future and create my own, if I keep moving I can sit in peace upon my icey throne.
If I keep moving I can live in the whispered shadows created by fragmants of the moons glow..but oh what a glow.
If I stop moving I feel your light penetrate my dark.
I feel whispers of you on my skin.
I feel you in the calmness that follows our storm, a questioning battle of what I believe to be norm.
The body is purely flesh and bone, flesh and bone, whispered thoughts whislt I am stuck unfucnctionable in that zone.
If I keep moving I have no reason to feel and I can pretend that none of it’s real.
If I stop moving you penetrate my dark.

Karen Hayward 2016 ©