Measurement in Spiders

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Last week
you froze mid hall
screamed, cried
and shook, till
broom in hand,
you heard the book
slam hard against
the ground.

Last night, you
peered up, paused
and pointed to
the ceiling,
that’s the one
you killed last
week, right?

Right, I said,
praying to every
God I’ve ever
read about,
Do not let that
spider move,
not a leg, or arm
not a sneeze
or yawn….

Ok you said,
and went about
your business,
and for a moment,
brief as it was,
I felt my lungs
breathe.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image from WordPress library

The sting of a pitiful stance.

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I feel only pity. Not for you, for those touched by you. Those stained with your toxin breath and acid words. Those that hear the echoes of your banshee scream as dawn calls upon another day and they believe they converse with an angel.

I pity the God’s you pray to, the hyprocracy in your evening cries, the venom in your devil eyes. A descendant of lilith, fallen angels with blackened wings fanning the vile words falling from your spitting tongue.

The serpent coils through your soul, what embers of innocence once lay there now crushed, dispersed on trade winds to a lover and another and any poor fool consumed by your succubus melody and the broken strings of your violin.

But alas I will carry your lesson into tomorrow on the beating wings of spirits love forever at my side. My gain was your want, eternal without condition beyond the physical realm. Spiritual devotion rewarded now in universal bliss…

Your lessons taught me the value
Of true loves blessed kiss. Your game play was preparation, for me to become his. Your poison was the toxin in my climb
as I learned self worth and when my King
took stand to claim his Queen,
I knew I was worthy this time.

Karen Hayward ©2017 Image and words

Amber and Blue.

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Amber and Blue

When you think of me before I do
When you think of me instead of you
my everything in a world untrue
You are the silver and the gold
The amber and blue
A crescendo of rhythm in my heart unfolds
the little things you do,
is the everything I hold.
From amber and blue
aura everlastingly bold
I can feel love’s brightest glow
Let the the notions of love
be the binding glue
in you i find the beauty
In all that you do
Vibrant and alive..
like amber and blue
I can only cherish the fates that made you mine
A flaming joy in crystalline time
You are the sparkle the starlight sublime
The gravity that holds me close to you.
the beauty of love in the amber and blue

(c) 2016 Michael J. Garland
(c) image Karen Hayward

More of Michael’s amazing poetry can be found on his Google plus page…

https://plus.google.com/+MichaelJamesGarland/posts

I am officially the proud owner of a degree with hons…free writing. :-)

So, I have something to share. I’ve kinda kept this under wraps for a few days because, well, i think i needed time to process it. On Thursday I got my final module result for my studies with The Open University, i am now the proud owner of an open degree (English Lit and Lang) with Hons. :-).
When I got my result I was hit by a surprising amount of emotions, and have spent a few days trying to figure them out.
I’ve spent six years rewriting in my head what I would say to all of those people that didn’t believe I could do it. Six years worth of day dreaming, mumbling to myself…and now,  i don’t actually have a single word I want to say to them. I simply don’t give a flying fuck! I think this annoyed, just a little, now was my time to prove i was better than them….so why the hell didn’t i want to rub their noses in it…oh that’s right, because i am better than them.  
I realised on Thursday that the journey had always been mine, I needed to prove to myself that I was better then the handful of GCSE’s I left school with, I needed to prove to myself that I was capable of greater things.
Six years is a long time, at the beginning it felt like an entire lifetime with no shoreline and no horizon. I squeezed in studying the same way other Open University students did, with sheer determination. I avoided extensions like the plague and just pushed forward. I tore my back muscles more times than i’d like to remember from a combination of doing too much, heavy books and long periods sat in front of a blank computer screen. But I always did it for me, it was my journey.
I made new friends, people I hope will still be there in ten, twenty, thirty years. People that understood, people with open minds, people that I never felt a need to prove myself too, for they were on their own journey too.
So yeah, that step of my journey is done, i did it, i showed myself,and myself alone that I was capable….If you can dream it, you can be it.

Mine and mine alone.

It’s mine,
I earned it.
Late nights and early
Mornings,
Endless writing,
And always yawning.
It’s mine alone,
Mine to own.
You never believed,
you could never see.
So many doubters,
Critical shouters,
How wrong were you?
Your colours are true.
I don’t want your appluase,
So please, continue to ignore.
I thought, i did it as proof,
It was all a little aloof.
But i see now, this was my journey,
You never stood beside me.
Do not stand up now,
and shout real loud,
Do not pretend,
you were with me till the end,
You were never there,
You thought i’d fail, you didn’t care.
So here’s the news, i’m not gonna share.
This thing i earned,
Is mine alone,
Mine to own.
Xx