Thunder storms beating in your heart

There is a silence before rain falls
hissing through atoms, empty, threatening,
soldiers of nature crashing into life.

But what of all the crimson blood that spills?
I grasp at the lose threads of my shadow
as it splits, a fierce drum, beating, beating.

A blunt knife tearing heaving hearts chambers.
I count in my mind how many foot steps,
one for each sting of thunders dropping light.

One hundred? Two hundred? I estimate
five hundred. Five hundred shards of my soul
scattered through tiny drops of petrichor.

The earthly fragrance, natures pure blessing
and yet a curse defined in your young heart
but does it beat now rapid screams of need.

There goes another shard, sharp and glossy
outer glow of maternal lubricant.
If only I were your belief. Your hero.

Powered by the Gods, a new mutation
chemically, born to other planets. . .
I could slow the falling bullets of rain

Calm the orchestra of your blood playing
in your ears. I could transmit messages
skimming across the surface water drum.

Manipulate cloud and envelope you
in protective fluff mothers wings out stretched

I would fly the universe for you, dear
my spirit catching claps of blue thunder
between the falling tears of hell’s recluse

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found via wordpress library

blue body of water with orange thunder
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

Loves caretaker. 

Will you ever see you are the caretaker of my soul, 

as I wander aimlessly into the field of  of lost letters 

placed in perfect order to recreate the essence 

of humanity, I do so within the empty shell 

of my mortality. place me among the red petals of 

oblivion intoxicated by opium and I will lose only 

my beating heart for I am without soul 

If I am without you, the caretaker of my core. 
Karen Hayward ©2016 (Image and words) 

The great gargoyle.

Collaboration piece.

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Ancient whisper, guardian protection,

great wings descend as shadows dance from sight.

Past whispers scrawled upon these walls of history

eternal print of crystallized desire

that hollows in the twilight hour

as my skin yearns once again for your touch.

Selene sings a delicate lullaby

of our passion

upon silver cascades of beauty

that spill upon the earth searching

for the tenderness of your lips.

Helios roars fierce

lust into the ethereal

fueling primal source of need within.

Flames caressing my souls silhouette

as warmth dances through me.

Alas, the great gargoyle prepares

to swallow as darkness swarms from

between the crumbling walls, decaying

falsities, rotting flesh. The underworld

growls searching for the light…

and I am weak and alone in this fight.

Karen Hayward ©2016 (Words)

Image courtesy of the wonderful Katherine Hornby 🙂

 

Brick wall.

image

Why are you taking down all my bricks,
don’t you see they have to stick?
How are you taking down all my bricks,
don’t you see I made them thick?
What are you doing with all my bricks?
Are you a jester, is this a trick?
What are you building with all my bricks?
How did you surround us so very quick?
What have you done to my glorious bricks,
this will take a lifetime to fix!
What are you doing inside of my bricks?
How did you get in so very quick?
A fault in my wall, I never want to fix.

Karen Hayward ©2016

A night without escape.

I fell so deep,
into sleep,
I can’t recall my dreams,
Or what they mean.
I asked for light
Throughout the night.
Surrounding me,
It set me free.
A protective bubble,
A spiritual cuddle.
Nothing got in,
No noise, not a thing.
i slept so deep,
At the Angels keep.
Their wings cooling my air,
Fingers, smoothing my hair.
Whispers in my ear,
Telling me,
They were always
Near.