Slicing through the echo of my own perfection

The body, when perfectly whole
Without cut, scar or gaping hole
Is a vessel of beautiful perfection
Radiating aura without detection
of cast of entities from darker sense…

Each cut, scar, hole leaves open essence
protection fails as they seep in
heavy thoughts they always bring
feeding on energy, power drives on
reality is rewritten, they become strong.

To cleanse, to hide, to meditate
is never quite enough to fight
for holes in auras outer shield
are the reason for the magnetic field
They deceive, come in many guise

Such power they feed from mine so wise,
S’not you s’not me, they choose just feed
are blind in choice beyond holes of sieve
Such holes they must be healed
To regain your protective field.

Even in distance across time and space
healing occurs from source trace,
All is needed, permission granted
intent is thought a decision planted
Allow me, and I will remain silent
till thoughts quenched end of violence.

KH©2018

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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

Time.

The universe doesn’t pass time in the moving of seconds,

Instead, the ascending and descending of life events.

First there is birth to the perfect parents. 

Not perfectly good or perfectly rich,

hell they might not even be perfectly hitched.

But for purpose sake, the bond is purposefully stitched. 

Or unstitched in some cases. 

At a soul level you’ll recognise their faces,

past lives leaves scars, freckles, tiny traces. 

Childhood happens, you might be rich you might be poor,

the universe keeps ticking never keeping score,

look around at the beauty, she only wants, that you want more. 

For some there is light, for some of us dark 

and as the grains of sand slip, we all walk a path,

Living becomes a story that leaves another mark. 

Till finally we learn there are lessons at hand, 

Life is a map only our souls know the plan,

from the moment of birth when Terra began.

They’ll be tears, they’ll be hurt and boy they’ll be pain, 

they’ll be days when we count seconds by the drops of grey rain,

and some of us sadly, will be driven insane. 

But alas time must trickle through the portals neck,

as we eat, pray, play, work and slumber in bed,

Till finally we wake, then we are led.

For each soul that wanders for each mind that grows, 

lessons are delivered knowledge is sown, 

and time passes by in a constant flow. 

Some of us lucky our lessons we learn, 

twin flames found at the very first turn. 

Some of us feel time, feel time, as each second burns, 

time hesitates, stammers and screams, 

we can’t figure out what the symbols mean, 

we can’t make sense of the time that has been. 

The universe doesn’t pass time in the beating of hands, 

time is explored through our souls and their plans, 

some paths we can’t and some paths we can. 
Karen Hayward ©2016

To see a multitude of hues.

If time travel were possible I could cruise the depths of the universe at your side. We would search the endless skies for the answers to our questions and the knowledge to our wisdom. We could watch it all begin from row seats, my excitement spilling into time, a static echo heard as a whisper whilst we sleep back in our own beds in our own world. We could watch the earth as she takes her final breaths as she dies before our glistening eyes. You could hold me as at last I feel it safe to cry. We could watch the sun setting over and over and experience the multitude of magnificent hues. We could watch the aurora, like a child I could scream in delight at the spectacular lights. We could sit beneath a full moon and watch as she spills moon dust across a glorious lagoon. We could meet Shakespeare and Dickens and any one you like, we could travel in the darkness or travel in the light. We could watch as we are born, I could discover was mine night or was it morn. I could whisper to my younger self as the fox knocks down the bin, that even in the darkness it is morning and I’m sorry but this really isn’t a dream. We could travel all the shores and see the many ocean tides and for a single moment in time, we could touch. A single touch that stops the ticking clock, the gentle graze lingering on my skin until my dying breath. An imprint on my soul that travels with me where ever I might go.

Karen Hayward ©2016

A crossroad of destruction.

I’ve not a single idea,
Of what comes next.
No detailed plan,
Or future dream,
I have nothing
It seems.
Two paths ahead,
Both waiting for me to walk them,
One filled with destruction, likely fuelled by vodka,
No strings and hapless misgivings.
The other is simple, and I am the prize, If I walk the path I will surely rise.
I don’t know who I am,
or what in this world I can become,
I never dreamt I could become someone.
I choose this path,
I don’t know where it leads,
But I know that it’s
What I need.
I might fail it,
I might nail it.
But, for the first time in my life,
I’d like to try.