Fairy-tales do not exist

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Fairy tales do not exist
and cupids arrow will always miss.
The evil queen will always win
and every girl is filled with sin.

There’s no golden fleece to protect us all
no fairy godmother to stop your fall.
The birds don’t clean and cats don’t talk
and there’s no such thing as the perfect walk.

There’s no bread crumbs to find your way
and no fire breathing dragon for you to slay.
Hearts are real and cannibalism does exist
and there’s no such thing as the perfect kiss.

The emerald city and the world of oz are just a dream
and yes, people really are that mean.
Parlour tricks and a clever tongue
and no the spell won’t break with the morning sun.

Fairy tales do not exist
but I think I might
just take that risk.

Karen Hayward ©2015. Image downloaded via google

The battleground of silence

If her words are to be cut from her tongue, if her silence is to be cut from her soul, she has only her ink. The solace of her page, the sombre flow of thoughts carved into yesterday’s canvas. The freedom of poetic expression…said here, said there, the effect is the same. The cause falls on blind eyes, a defensive soul guarding against… The only one he needs not. For those words silenced in reprimand wanted not to talk of command, demand or dictating, just love. A silence that wished not to hurt, offend or harm found an unwanted battle ground of misunderstanding and trust questioned on the balance beam of expectations, emotions, a kaleidoscopic rainbow of scars
itching to rip open, and she is not trusted to itch them, she is not trusted to express the way they scratch, they bleed, perhaps such a thing is for children, for the weak..for they are the adults. Then she stands in all her glory for she holds no shame in her weakness. Her silence sought only his love, the tender touch of his words the reassuring tone of primal need on carnals vice. His defence, guarded, angered.. the unnescasary ripples of his own scars, as he scratched them into life. For an unexpressed thought will ricochet through existence slowly crumbling foundations. A recipe for disaster, one part love, one part lust, one part the closed eyes of a pretence, a locked vault of despair, a curse she never once wished upon him, never had she bound his tongue never had she silenced his silence. She holds all trust in their love, all belief in their truths. In the silence of no words said, she ponders the irony that of all the things he did not trust, it was her need to express without consequences to him, her need to understand the pain that drives, her need to have the freedom to be vulnerable, safe in the knowledge he’d catch her…

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

Photo

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If I gather up
the cracked
pieces of
timeless
porcelain,
the shattered
grains of soul,
the shards of
spirit, the
chipped remains
of identity…
With my heart
in pieces;
perhaps you
could help me
tidy them into
neat piles of
rationality, dust
away the insanity.
Fill the voids
with self believe,
polishing them
with self confidence
long lost in the
devils hour.

Karen Hayward* ©2018

She’s a lilac girl
Her soul the many
hues of calming
blue.
Her spirit the
raging fires of
red.
Both angel and devil
Both nun and succubus
Both serenity and chaos
Both innocence and sin
She is magnetism
drawing you into
the soft lilac
hues of her web.
#poetslineprompts OPEN INVITE
Karen Hayward ©2018

See what they see…

He stroked tangles into her once luscious mane,
and peppered it in the muted hues of time.
He smoothed the years across her brow
and etched his hate
within her blunt laughter lines.
He left a thesis of his dysfunction written between the grains of her invalid groin
and ringed the spoils of her scars in red ink.
He left her skin bare of kisses, of love,
of exploration or pleasure
he tamed the primal beast
he groomed her into silence
then gave her a mirror
and said…

See? Then grinned menacingly.

He stroked tangles into her once luscious mane…

Karen Hayward © 2019

Image via Google search.

The truest of beauty

I looked for the stars in an empty sky,
then I see them twinkling in your precious eyes.
I looked to the world for beauty unseen
I find it right there in your fearsome belief.
I looked in the faces for pure kindness you see,
then I saw it was all that you were able to be.
I looked to the universe for a reason to see,
and the universe gave you, to me.

Karen Hayward ©2015.

Sleep…

Sleep seems to evade me lately like the plague,
my dreams cloaked in darkness and vague.
But i’m still standing,
And landing,
On my own two feet,
And from here,
Deep in the depths of despair,
I can hear my beat,
Calling my name,
pushing me on,
Always the same,
Every path has a reason,
Keep going through the seasons,
Every fight,
Will eventually bring light.
Believe in yourself,
Believe you are right,
And
In the
Darkness
Of the
Night
Awake and alone,
Know you were dreaming
Of your future throne.

Karen Hayward ©201

Supine in a moments serenity

3D somehow becomes

2D and I am

transported through time

to when clouds

were shapes

and the sky

was an endless

playground.

Terra tugs at my core

caressing lost strands

of self

as my inner child

sings nursery rhymes

fit for a killer.

Death lays all around me.

Abandoned graves

aging trees

Adulthood on the

lost lips of kids as

they grasp at the

milk cartons

and for a moment

I see St Nicholas

flying high through

cornflower blue skies

I close my eyes

for a last moments

reprieve

“please wake me

from this dream”

but no one hears

I am four and

discovering

that God does

not exist…

… I lay now,

supine in a

moments serenity

reflecting my daily

wish to wake from

this dream

they call life…

Karen Hayward ©2018

As the blade slipped…

I am the speckled fragments of chaos
you are the contents of Pandora’s chest
I am moon beams dancing at twilight
you are my sky, vast, encompassing
I am kisses shimmering in darkness
You are my night, my knight, my light.

I am the scattered remnants of chaos
I am the broken whispers of Pandora
I am an ancient constellation of star dust                                                                I am the essence from the blade of Zeus
We were one, became two, eternity spent
searching for you…

I am the moon adorned in white light
You are the sky, my infinite love
I am the fragrance of scent long forgot
You are the essence craved at my core
I am an ancient need, ignited in flames
you are the source whispering my name.

You are the echo of touch on my skin
You are the whispers I hear when I dream.
You are the stars leading my way
You are home, found high in the skies
You are a source ingrained in my soul                                                         a whispered memory from an ancient day.

I am the essence on the slide of the blade
You are the soul, Zeus split that day.
We are star dust travelling through time
Searching eternally for the silent signs
Now I am found and we look no more,
For you are mine.. and I am yours.

Karen Hayward ©2017

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