life…

Choices, they have to be made

the game of life, it has to be played.

Stagnated, soured water and death

avoid all choices, and its all you have left.

Heart breaking decisions beyond all reason,

a heart that never changes, unlike the seasons.

It soon turns to ice learns only to hate

until you are knocking at the devils gate.

Choices they have to be made,

the game of life, it has to be played.

So be brave, my dear life soldier,

or else your precious soul grow colder.

Fear not the repercussions, but regret,

it will follow you, never to forget.

Karen Hayward ©2012 Edited 2020 Image and words

Devils Love

Sometimes, I sit and wonder.
Is it my soul you plan to plunder?
What then are you waiting for?
Do you really think me the devils whore?

Sometimes you sit and wonder
can you really her soul plunder?
What is she waiting for, you think
'My sweet, innocent devils whore'.

Sometimes, they sit and wonder
Late at night when the worlds in slumber.
Why is fate so truly cruel?
Is this the only way must we let the devil rule?

Sometimes, the devil sits and plunder’s,
all the thoughts of love and wonders.
He shares with I and you the love
to help us through each day that’s tough.

One day we’ll sit and wonder
for the lost days that life did plunder.
And we’ll be grateful to the devil,
that in our true love he did revel.

Karen Hayward ©2012 - Edited 2020 Image and Words. 

Reflective voices

I sat on the stony shore as the soft ebbing tide
drifted further away. The suns rays reflecting,
of the seas surface, like gold dust,
dropping from the sky. I close my eyes and,
let the winter sun warm me.
 
I can feel your kisses on my shoulder,
they're soft and warm...
 
My eyes open, I rest my head
upon my knees. Fate is cruel.
I look out at the blue/grey sky,
and wonder why.
 
Life is never easy and perfection is rare.
But why does it taunt me.
I close my eyes, go back to my memories,
they're all I have now.
All I will ever have. I never knew
that I would actually miss you.

Karen Hayward ©2012 - Edited 2020 Image and words

Sacrificial Love

I love you so much and yet I cannot say
the words, for you don’t belong to me.
I am Instead left with hope, and clichés
but even that is not a guarantee.
So I wait in line, with all my patience
Ignoring the imperfections of life
And the stirring emotions of my adolescence
So that no one can sharpen their sinful knife.
I've sacrificed for you, for them for everyone
this love, so you can live out your life, happily.
I will linger eternally in shadows
of our dreams that cannot be.

Karen Hayward ©2012 - Edited 2020 Image and words
I love you so much and yet I cannot say
the words, for you don’t belong to me.
I am Instead left with hope, and clichés
but even that is not a guarantee.
So I wait in line, with all my patience
Ignoring the imperfections of life
And the stirring emotions of my adolescence
So that no one can sharpen their sinful knife.
I've sacrificed for you, for them for everyone
this love, so you can live out your life, happily.
I will linger eternally in shadows
of our dreams that cannot be.

Bird in song.

The day will arrive when I will look

and you will be gone.

Until then, I try to keep control,

to stay strong.

But one day you will realise

that we are simply wrong.

This road my friend is dark

and oh so bloody long

and yet, the only sound I hear,

are two lovebirds, in song.

Karen Hayward © 2012 – edited 2020 Image and words

The puzzle pieces

Need a last minute valentines day gift? Then check out my latest poetry book, a collection of love, lust, desire and passion it’s the perfect way to tell them you love them!! And it’s so easy, Amazon allows you to ‘gift the ebook’ all you need is their email address…easy peasy!

His touch was like a puzzle piece
I never knew existed
Like all my awkward edges had purpose
and my quaint curves of self
had reason
like my skin had been forever searching
for the unknown that became known
the moment his hand
touched me
like the excited atoms of my skin
ignited
rejoiced, woke… Yes.. Like my soul woke up
like a touch I have always known
existed and yet never found

If it were a
strangers hand
on a busy city street
resting upon my skin
I’d have surely spent an
eternity searching
for its
origin.

but it was his touch,
and we are found…

Karen Hayward ©2019

The battleground of silence

If her words are to be cut from her tongue, if her silence is to be cut from her soul, she has only her ink. The solace of her page, the sombre flow of thoughts carved into yesterday’s canvas. The freedom of poetic expression…said here, said there, the effect is the same. The cause falls on blind eyes, a defensive soul guarding against… The only one he needs not. For those words silenced in reprimand wanted not to talk of command, demand or dictating, just love. A silence that wished not to hurt, offend or harm found an unwanted battle ground of misunderstanding and trust questioned on the balance beam of expectations, emotions, a kaleidoscopic rainbow of scars
itching to rip open, and she is not trusted to itch them, she is not trusted to express the way they scratch, they bleed, perhaps such a thing is for children, for the weak..for they are the adults. Then she stands in all her glory for she holds no shame in her weakness. Her silence sought only his love, the tender touch of his words the reassuring tone of primal need on carnals vice. His defence, guarded, angered.. the unnescasary ripples of his own scars, as he scratched them into life. For an unexpressed thought will ricochet through existence slowly crumbling foundations. A recipe for disaster, one part love, one part lust, one part the closed eyes of a pretence, a locked vault of despair, a curse she never once wished upon him, never had she bound his tongue never had she silenced his silence. She holds all trust in their love, all belief in their truths. In the silence of no words said, she ponders the irony that of all the things he did not trust, it was her need to express without consequences to him, her need to understand the pain that drives, her need to have the freedom to be vulnerable, safe in the knowledge he’d catch her…

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

Photo

Just there.

Sweet wisp
of salty mist
embracing
skin so bare
as eyes meet
and lovers kiss
upon the shore
right there.
Soft shush
of a teasing sea,
gentle blush
of lovers free.
Thoughts that
wander
words that
ponder,
Twilight dreams
Of far of seas
and skies of blue…

….just me and you.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

Photo