Time ticks and tocks in the silent beats of ego

Slowly it falls into oblivion
smashed glass shattering
memento.
A brief pause when it hits.
The cursed pleasure of karma.
The jar becomes my integrity
Piercing decades of time,
the coffee grains, my dignity
spilling openly at his feet.
I count my blessings looking
at the tattered remains
of myself, it could have been
worse. He bent to gather
the shards of glass.
It could have been
tampons. That look,
the one that says twenty years
and still she’s as clumsy
as ever. . . too late, the look
lost now among the poetic
irony of a dropped jar
of coffee.

Karen Hayward (c)2017
Image via wordpress library

Kings and Queens and Devils Spawn

Photo

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