A proposal of thought…


… 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

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For no man is wise on words alone and alone no man is wise…

An explosion of necessity
No man is wise on words alone
Come closer
let me lick the essence
of your soul and leave a trail
of iridescent glitter through transcendence of thought
so I may gently touch your lips
on whispers of a dream
Do you feel it?
Within the frequency of beats
curving through the
array of numbers,
right there,
that haunting feeling of nearly a kiss…
there flies pans shadow dancing
through the ethereal,
an astral dance of
need vibrating through linear time,
he searches for his Wendy.
I’m sorry,
am I the catalyst of sense that
spills chaos,
for every word learned
I have a kiss that tastes like stars,
a touch…
Tell me please,
what is that sparkle within your eye,
even within the creation of a
hybrid race, there is always
a dominant gene that will prevail.
Tell me again of how the world is
formed through numbers and words, pliable existence,
so I may slip between
your fingers
knowledge spilling through
atoms of energy.
Show me how the universe works
and I shall capture its flavour upon my tongue and share with you its taste.
For no man is wise
on words alone
and alone no man is wise…

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words

Isn’t there an irony that to you I owe it all?
You uncovered a part of me in the devils hour.
Two souls, fragmented shards of yesteryear,
We were children dancing with the devils soldiers
Bound by scars of old that we painted across
each others skin, you were the innocent,
I was the sin. I didn’t believe, I didn’t see,
and your lies and indiscretion set me free,
whilst binding you to a cage of regret,
futures mapped, destiny set as you carried
into new days the broken fragments
of my soul
that I left shattered upon your door…
… Till time passed, lives moved forward,
Many sun rises, blue skies, spring rain glory
Promises made and broken.
Closure came unexpected.
I was chaos she was respectability
on paths chosen,
Only you saw my potential to be more
Yet, with self doubt you were out the door….
the catalyst moment that had me reaching for more.

I broke into a thousand shards of mistrust,
bled for my lust, died for my sins
fought bare hand your belief…
became the very thing you believed beyond me,
your choice set me free
no longer a soldier for the devils play
You uncovered a part of me that day
And as years passed and paths crossed
It was you crying now, for the love you had lost.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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If she were to close her eyes tight enough

hush the world.

If she could manage to think just lightly enough,

She can actually feel him.

She can feel a new depth to every word

that spills to the page,  they

really do now simply spill. No longer does

she stop and think and edit those sacred

inner thoughts, she hands them over to you

as though they were created

for you, always for you. She’s no longer sure

whether it is a want or a need that has her delve

into darker desires, with each line

she feels you deeper. She can feel now the way your

image climbs through her subconscious

searching for the speckles of light in the dark

and although the darkness entices them both.

You are there dispersing all shadows of doubt.

Whilst the darkness intertwines through the

light the two sides no longer fight. They walk

together, as your fingers explore what you

cannot touch her mind explores what could

not be rushed. She wonders what is one without

the other and which leads and which follows.

Do words of erotic tales lead to

temptation, to the darkness of an empty

void that now has light shimmering in. Or was

it always the hidden swarming feelings

that delivered them to this very page. She used to think

it were one and not the other, but

they both grew alongside, trust in one

created trust in the other, and although

she is not aware at any point of having created

this trust, it is there. It is there in abundance.

With every thought, with every word she can feel

the depth. And she cannot pretend to understand

or even to always accept. But she is intrigued

by the way it spreads through her whilst she stands

open, and she is intrigued by the darkness and

intrigued by the light. She often wonders what

it was that scared her, why she tried so hard to fight when

all she ever need do was close her eyes and know

that this feels incredibly right.

 

Karen Hayward (copyright 2015) Image and words

All the things I never knew, I never knew.

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I didn’t know that
love wasn’t
the drowning
of desire,
The suffocating
of need,
The blanketing
of lust.

I never knew
Love was
compromise
beyond myself,
or that sacrifices
shouldn’t
hurt.
I never knew
that love
was strength.

I didn’t know
love could be
anything
other than
weakness,
that the body
held value
or that my voice
was a treasure.

I never knew
I deserved,
that I could be
that I was,
that I am
that I will be,
I never knew.

I didn’t know love
wasn’t the silent
punishment,
the hateful glares
and egg shell
carpet.
I didn’t know
my heart should
swell, but
never shatter.

I didn’t know
all the things
love was
and
I never knew
it would be you
to teach me.

Karen Hayward (c)2017
Image and words.

Every Track Leads to the Devil.

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I lost my battle of innocence,
by choice,
It was my voice.
Lost my angelic-ness,
This is my mess.
I am tainted,
too late to go back.
What if i’m wrong,
and this is the devils track?
No difference,
It never is,
No one will truly call me his.

Karen Hayward ©2014 (edited 2017)

Image and words

Touch me, make me bloom.

Photo

Just as the rose,
with her luscious crimson
petals that peel open
before the Sun,
I peel open for you.
My flushed petals curling outward,
my colour, fluid and vi-
brant upon your words.
My floral fragrance
disperses upon your intent.
My blossom awaits your
touch and when I think
I am in full bloom,
my petals become a
little plumper, my colour a little deeper and my scent
becomes your very own personal pheromone,
answering to your
primal calls.

Karen Hayward (c)2017

Image and words.