Caught between sleep thought

Caught between two planes of existence,
slumbers promise a far of lie,
lost within the realms of my dreams
all fingers, eyes, smiles and presence,
held captive within your essence
as spectres draw me from my sleep
fingers cold dragging, pulling
gasping as touch becomes real
and I am awake, in the darkness
of eternity,
caught between the two planes of existence,
again and again and again
you are there, waiting for me to dream….
again and again and again
they are there waiting to pull me from my love.

Karen Hayward ©2018 Image and words

Photo

In 
such dreams 
I lose self
between gentle
yellow rays of sun 
falling from the heavens
dawns melody imploding
as silence explodes and I hear
natures orchestra kissing my soul
Awake I see only beauty 
between the devils shadows 
The perfection of flaws 
Purity of truth
experience 
of being 
human 
Life

Karen Hayward ©2018 image and words

In slumbers hour

They come for me in slumbers hour
Pulling me from sleep.
Haunting shadows, darkness towers
stronger as I weep.

Pulling me from sleep they say
bow now for the King
Our master, calls to you this day
and so the darkness sings.

Haunting shadows dancing fierce
pull me from my bed,
chaos spilling in endless tears
bare without a thread

Stronger as I weep dark shadows
shedding from my skin
demons scratching, dark eyes glow
when touching on my sin.

The devils kiss upon my nape
awakening lost thoughts
my soul today they wish to take
the pure blood they’ve sought

The devil’s kiss upon my nape
Now to be his queen
his Kingdom I will surely take
for this is just a dream.

Karen Hayward ©2018

The lucid call of sleep

I wake in the pits of lucidity
The heavy weight drowning me
Suffocating on air as my blood
becomes lead, and I am falling
further, my axis pulling,
screaming, crashing.
I feel the cat laying across my
hip, I feel the cold air against
my skin, I hear the echo of a tv
the whir of the fridge…
And I am there, among the white
lights, that become a rabbit that
become crystals that become diamonds and still I am drowning.
I hear the voices in my head
whispering wake up, whispering
come deeper and I know I am
dreaming, I know I have slipped
between the cracks into lucidity.
I know my night will be filled
now with an acidic aura
Plunging me through a labyrinth
of suffocation, color and drowning
so I wake, pull myself from the
claws of fantasy, spill my thoughts
onto the page and hope I have
somehow discovered the reset
button before I dive mind first
back Into the world of sleep.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

Photo

Purpose…
… to know my worth exceeds the grave and cradle, that each breath holds meaning and each second depth, yet,
When I ponder of my existence I feel more alone than ever.

I do not wait for the apocolypse; neither enlightenment nor end days for both it seems to me pander to the reaper…
… And I find no sense in surviving the darkness in wait for God’s mighty hand of justice, for what point lays in waking, breathing or ultimately kindness.

… I do not believe my woes to be the karmic debt of my Father or his before, have you ever met these men? To spend a moment in their presence is to know the strength of my conviction.

I tear holes in the ideology that we are born to die, that greatness is achieved on death, I ponder how many false martyrs are formed this way.

The same sun that will warm my soul will also burn my skin, and the same snow that ignites my spirit will freeze my heart, yet still I can be found dancing beneath them and when eventually I die, I will tell great stories of the way Gaia touched my soul, the way stars ignited my heart, the way darkness gave me light and light gave me darkness.

… And when I am before my Diety,
when I am asked,
am I happy to be home,
I will say yes..

“But to have lived, is the greatest adventure of my existence.”

Karen Hayward ©2017

No claim to image

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 gentle essence of sleep leaves me now
I stretch away the cold snake of winter
that crept beneath the blankets open mouth
and curled around my slumberous splinter.

I listen for a short second to birds,
they sing of merriment and joyous days
a perfect orchestra requiring no words
existing through the melody of play.

I watch a lone drop of water diving
happy, into a pool of ecstasy
sporadic tip taps and gleeful sightings
I pause and drink in this reality

Rising with cold still upon my tired skin
I pull on a soft, worn, cashmere jumper
embracing now soft pinks and floral prints
I am the hushed tones of succubus amber

I try to recall the day I became this new essence of femininity
and decide it was always there in haze,
Hiding behind my broken fantasies.

I sit by the open window and see,
sleep has left me free from worries, concerns
and in the silence the serenity nurtures me
And I am at peace listening to the birds

Karen Hayward ©2019

Image via wordpress library