What if…

This was my first ever poem on my blog back in September 2012, I was in my fifth year of study toward my English degree and about to embark on the creative writing and advanced creative writing modules and we were advised we needed writing outlet such as a blog……hmmm…that’s where I became a poet .


What if…

What if karma, destiny and fate are all fake desires dressed up in the giuse of hope, but what if they are not.

What if our paths were always destined, our distance mapped out in the stars that guide us.

What if I am simply a good memory among so many bad ones, a memory designed to offer you hope.

What if that was always to be my purpose.

What if things had been different, I had been stronger, fought for my love, stood tall and confident, demanded to be seen and heard…would things be different?

What if all along, we were just meant to play cards in that old, battered, Black and White house.

What if that was our destiny.

Karen Hayward ©2012

Image found on pinterest

First love forgotten on the breeze, remembered in the sun.


Half clad in skin tight lycra
A far cry from the nineties nightclub.
Face to face in the harsh light of a council run pool
Like some fucked up universal rule.
Eyes up eyes down there’s no where to go,
We’ve no choice but to play out this show.
A soft smile that tells us both that inside we are screaming,
we always understood the unspoken meanings.
We divide the pool with an invisible rope,
cos speaking in front of family is a big fucking nope.
I wonder now, what did you see?
Did I become everything you thought I could be?
Your hair is gone,
I loved it long.
I remember the places the plaits would sit,
back then everyone thought you were so fucking fit.
You were.
I was just a girl.
We fumbled with our identity, our bodies, our love,
You’ve told before you still remember that stuff.
Chlorine stenched hair
I don’t actually care,
I rise from the water
like a lamb to the slaughter
and just as I turn the corner,
the pair of us falter.
In the dim lights of a council run pool,
first love long forgotten, like some fucked up universal rule.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Matrix of silent reality.


From the empty silence I steal away the depths of reality and wrap them in white cotton to bury deep beneath the freezing ground. The echo of existence whispering to me the secrets of humanity and in this silence I know the answers are to be found. Solid ice thaws to the trending escapism of a pixelated Neverland unbound by the rules of society. We are whatever we say we are until the cloak falls and the darkness seeps away and no longer are we hidden by our reality. The beauty of the chaos theory fluttering the wings of now pulling at the threads of fate. The matrix code becomes intertwined and woven between the souls of the dead that believe they are the living whilst the puppeteer engineers every connection that we make. I ponder who are the wise when we are the empty spirits of an old mans philosophy. Haunting beliefs that follow us through the streets of serenity. If autonomy is the devils whisper then I choose you without reproach, i’ll lead you into temptation and wear my heart as though a broach. But reality is a fallacy a facade of broken dreams and in the silence I will find what reality means.


Karen Hayward 2016

If you go to hell.

If I go to heaven
and you go to hell,
I’ll find a way
to break your spell.
I’ll send down a rope
with a knot at the end,
so you can climb out
Each time it is sent.
I’ll build a door and
leave out a key
beneath a flowerpot
of beautiful daisies.
I’ll keep watch at the window
whilst you climb the rope,
We’ll wash you with water
and Jasmine soap.
I’ll show you the views
from heaven above,
we’ll lay on the clouds
and passionately make love.

Karen Hayward ©2016

The lonely path.

How i’ve longed to love you so,

for days to pass, to come and go.

How i’ve wished away the stars,

to keep myself upon this path.

Silent words to the universe,

promised wishes and muttered curse.

But never did you see me so,

and now my love, I must go.

The end has come,

for this lonely show.

Karen Hayward (Copyright 2015.)

Consumed by endless thoughts.p

I feel consumed, my thoughts I should say feel consumed. As a writer my mind rarely stops, it’s hard to explain to someone whose mind ticks a way at a normal rate, that mine, never stops. I analyse my every thought, my every word, every decision I make has had hours of thought. Generally this comes as easy to me as breathing. But I feel today like a major traffic jam has occured in my head, not one line of thought, but several. I hope that by sharing them I can start the process of unravelling them and letting them go. I’ve been writing for days with no such luck, just a handful of unfinished poems created from unfinished thoughts. So, what is it that is consuming my thoughts…
1. Someone told me I need to impress them, my reaction? I wasn’t put on this earth to impress others, I do not care, at all, what others think of me. If they feel a need to judge me in some way then they are not for me. But what they are right, what if I am too soft forbthis world, what if I do need to get tougher to fight dor a place in society.
2. What the fuck is love anyway. I know right, nothing like a little philosophical thought at bedtime. But really what is love, and can ‘love’ truly be used to describe our feelings towards people. Is love enough? Take soul mates and twin flames for example is love enough of a description for the feelings involved? And valentines day, am I alone in thinking that valentines day is a stupid day, surely you should show love every single day. Someone told me that there is a bridge in paris, and cambridge I think where lovers can throw the key to a padlock signed with their initials into the water….see now thats romantic, fuck flowers from the supermarket, give me real love any day, i just gotta figure out what real love is first.
3. Spiritual journey, that sounds like such religious gibbledy gooch, but since the day I put pen to paper my life has changed, my path changed direction and i saw the world in a new way. I am learning to listen to my gut (i won a tenner on scratch cards the other day cos my gut was screaming at me to buy two scratch cards, i only ever buy them when i get a gut instinct and i always win, small but always win, anyway boom the second card was the tenner :-)) Anyway, my instinct, my thoughts and my dreams are screaming for me to take a final step that makes no sense to me.
4. How the hell do people work, be mums, housewifes and find time for themselves.
5. I feel like i am losing my identity, like i am supposed to reach out for the new one, but the new one is scary.
6. Life feels like it is going too fast, and I feel like i am winging it, but my gut is saying to embrace it, it is all stuff I am capable of.
7. I want to wear purple knickers for work, but can’t find the right purple ones, I think I want shorts with thrills across the bum. I want a bit of my personality each and every day.
8. I have to wear my hair tied back for work everyday, it makes me feel exposed, I know I have to learn to accept it, I deserve to be seen, and I wear my hair down as a shield to hide behind.
9. I feel lost and yet I feel found.
So many thoughts they are consuming me, no answers in sight and yet my mind refuses to let them go. I know the universe helps me a long the way, directs me where I need to go, where I need to be. I know that some questions can not be answered in words, some I must simply trust in, but trust is an amazingly decietful emotion. Since I was a child i’ve been able to pick up on other peoples energy, I can feel the lies that they say, the pretence, for a long time I blocked it out completely I was living in a life filled with hate and lies, I no longer block it, I control it, I can control my reaction to every emotion except kindness and love, these energies come through to me in a confused way, which add further confusion to me, I guess its been so long since ive known kindness, my mind is constantly looking for the ulterior motive. I stopped.looking now, and started believing instead, which is why my mind is at a cross road, to believe I need to let go of the last strand and reveal the part of me that is most vulnerable, the part of me that is truly niave, I know it is the next step of my path, my dreams constantly tell me, my thoughts constantly tell me, my instinct constantly.reassures me, but none of it tells me how the fuck to do it!