Cinders of yesterday thoughts

My thoughts would likely
set ablaze the page,
Perhaps best I let them fester
In silent implosions
dot to dot conclusions
and solid doubt
of realities illusions.
Delusions
My thoughts would likely
tear holes through
constellations
rip apart solar systems
Redesign the universe
and yet, would
surely quench this
burning thirst
A cure for perhaps
mothers tongue, a curse.
My thoughts
My thoughts
My thoughts would surely
set ablaze the page
Crimson flow,
nature’s rage
Not wrong not right
Blinded by terrors sight
upon my tongue then
I shall bite,
whilst quietly waiting
for the emptiness
of night.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words

Find me on MeWe

https://mewe.com/i/karenhayward

Will you still when I am aged

Will you. . . ?
When my skin wears the markings
of my days and the lines of my nights
etched upon my face in a constellation
of battles won and wars lost.
Will you…?
When my hair is peppered with storms
meant to crush and dances meant to
drown. Leaving a trail of suffocated
colour, speckled through my timeline.
Will you…?
When my essence is muted grey in a
room full of rainbows arching to
perfection as I stumble to stand but
manage only to fall… Will you?
Will I?
Yes, when life is tattooed across your skin
in the distant echoes of battles, knights and Kings,
Yes, when age holds you within its grasp,
hair disappearing rapidly fast.
Yes, when our minds are a riddle
of yesteryears, lost thoughts and a need to tiddle,
Yes, when presence is historical in fresh blooms
among young meat in crowded rooms…

And suddenly I understand the depth of ‘of course’
the reason behind loves universal laws
We are all of our good bits, all of our flaws,
And age is the key to a souls longing need,
together we’ll blossom, starting from seed.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image via wordpress

Let me…

img_20161110_142542.jpg

Let me love you the only way I know how,
With one foot among the flames of hell.
My halo hanging from the door as Satan bangs down upon the floor.

Let me cherish your being the only way I’ve sought,
In whispered tones of unsaid thoughts.
In the endless space of empty words,
And the blank spaces that go unheard.

Let me adore the softness of your inner soul,
With shy blushes and a rising tide of a love I know.
With gentle thoughts and the slightest touch,
As the devil screams this is all too much.

Let me desire the very all of your being,
In broken sleep and heated dreaming
As need escapes, transforms the room,
and I beg and plead, take me soon.

Let me relish in our touch the only way I could,
With devil kisses in those places I never should.
In a trail of unforgiven memories across your skin,
Tainted now by our enchanted sin.

Let me devote myself to your spirit, with empty vows of love,
And let us hope this alone is enough.
My succubus soul and hearted sleeve,
And let these be the mortal sins of life we weave.

Karen Hayward ©2016. (Image and words)

Take the floor.

 

Take the floor. It is yours.

Dance beneath the heavens

with a love divine your future

is set, you my dear are flyin.

Take the floor.

Devote all that you are,

leave behind

whimsical thoughts of passion,

take the floor,

dance to the tune of love that

filters through your mind.

Take the floor, look back no more.

Take the floor,

look back no more.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

Blood tinged forgotten fun with the glorious Beezlebub.

Spare me the history making class.

This is history in the palms of my hand.

Writing itself in the blood of my sins,

smeared across the empty page.

There’s no reason for the rose hue tint,

let’s not glorify the facts.

Let us speak with a double edged sharpness,

free ourselves from the grappling hands of a fucked up society.

Stop listening to the screams of the fallen.

Let them become the echoed stepping stone of reality.

Their sweat dirtied with the mud of indecision and regret.

Guilt etched into every breath they take.

The stench rising from their mangled bodies.

Breathe in death,

let the those floaters become you,

swimming in your lungs as your heart pumps.

Death, life, death, life.

The constant beating of fear.

Close your eyes feel that darkness.

Know in your soul that Satan too is an angel of God,

carrying out the work of him almighty.

So I sin in the name of the Devil

as he drags me down into the depths of hell

glaring deep into my soul,

he searches but cannot find,

for I am broken, but I am found.

The only blood upon my skin is self made luminous sin,

tainted in the beholders eye .

Let’s not dirty with the sweat and tears of a foxes tongue

the beauty of our blood tinged forgotten fun.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

A karmic lesson in truth.

image

Poem is based on over hearing an entire conversation in detail, in public.

Dear…your name is not important, not now,
For a brief moment your choices created a void inside my mind that threatened to drag me in and devour me whole.
The lies you wore rolled up and stuffed beneath your heartless sleeve created a vortex of self doubt deep within my heart. The lies you whispered, the fractured fantasies you created. Romanticised in a one sided fantasy, i’d say the dreams you created, but they were an Italian masquerade ball of the past, characters playing an elaborate role flaunting stories pieced together with the guts of a thousand gnats.

Your reflection was a knight in shining armour your mirror an egotistical looped image of self importance, and for every second your heart beat you could not comprehend that I never desired to be saved. I never required you. Never have I met a soul so scared of intimacy, for every step forward you danced back to the beat of an inaudible song that played out across a tannoy in your world of fairytales and waiting wolves. You created an entangled web of manipulation, curious observations filled with empty holes and torn out patches. Your heart a fluttering mess of curdled blood when reality and fantasy played out indifferently and I had the honour of front row seats.

Dear….your name never really mattered, you were always a karmic lesson in truth.

Karen Hayward ©2016 (Words and image)

As the universe calls me from my sleep.

Her energy builds up

she wants out to play,

to dance in the

universe.

She feels alive.

She looks past the blue sky and see’s

the stars that are still hiding.

She can hear the birds and the songs

that they sing out into the world.

The little whispers that are carried on the breeze.

Intertwined with confusion,

yet so very clear.

Focus to remember

that life has a way of changing the rules!

Passion in the words put onto the page,

need to touch

when the universe pulls me from my bed

I want to feel your hand pulling me back.

Pure energy, pure life

seep through my mind

distance a reminder

search the universe

know for myself

truth

I searched inside

hiding out from the world.