It’s not that I think our souls will transverse
the very beats of times tick tocking clock
Or the stark darkness of our universe,
I don’t think love can make time pause or stop
It’s not the bond that binds, with unseen thread,
Or the way each one leads and each is led.
It’s not a phantom, ancient belief
synchronicity so tidy and neat
It’s not even a hopeful, dreamed thought
that in his delicate net, I’ll be caught…

It’s as physical as can be
this deep,
vivid, mind expanding, crazy need
to curl my naked form within his space
safe within our handmade nest of white lace
It’s the delicate essence of true trust
embracing love, friendship and delicious lust
Perhaps it’s the way he lets me fly free
unclipped wings, voice dancing across lush trees
returning to the nest at each ones call
I think perhaps that’s the cause of loves fall
when Alice slipped down that loving hole
and now became my only life goal.

Karen Hayward ©2019

Image and words

Stop the endless search for purity

If only they would stop searching the endless paths of

hopeless fools that dominate the green green grass

of earth. If they could just stop looking to appease the

lost souls of the blind clones and their followers, they

could be free. They could strip away the insecurities

of an unstable society and walk the balance beam of chaos,

one foot in front of the other as their soul flies on ahead

to clear the way. If for a moment they could shake away

their prudish thoughts, let passion enter their minds, brush

away the dirt of a gentleman’s rule, they could know ecstasy.

The creeping wave that floods through the perfectly tuned body;

inhibitions left at the door, clothes strewn across the floor,

desire in the fingertips of fire, passion no longer

denied as the flames burn inside.

If only they could walk this path, leave behind the sins of

the clueless few who fear the strong. So much fear for the other side,

for those that walk bare skinned without sin beneath a veil

of devilish fun with tantalizing tales of lust, stories of trust

and moments in time of naked bodies never meant to

be mine. Alas, the path is their choosing all mottled in grey

always concerned for the place where they lay.

Karen Hayward ©2015

Nothing comes, whilst it all is there

I never thought that I would care.

A chemical reaction and skin that is bare

and that bit of you, that you’d readily share.

But i’m without claim and freedom is yours

so take her if you please, do it on all fours.

Body to body it’s an action of lust

has nothing to do with emotional trust.

So why…

Why did nobody say that the lines become blurred,

that you’ll see emotions written in the words.

Excitement of touch falls to the page

and in that moment I hear what you say.

Words for another

as you explore a new lover.

And perhaps it makes sense

my emotional descent.

It’s more than the skin, the touch and the feel

it’s spirits that touch a connection so real.

And I did not expect didn’t know it was there

but the response that I got, was to be shown that 

I care.

Karen Hayward (copyright) 2015 Image via wordpress library

To Purge

Photo

Some people eat to purge
They devour platefuls of
Love, spoonfuls of hate
Bowls spilling with disgust.

Some, drink vodka, gin
Whiskey and bottled beer
Swigging back pain
Sipping on indifference.

For some, it is one more
run, sprinting back the tears
Curling the fears, stretching
the broken fragments clear.

I purge on the dark recesses
of my skull, pull away at
silver threads, devouring
memories made to break.

I lose myself in the silence
of melancholy let it swim
naked through my veins
Tearing me with each stroke.

I let each one fall, tasting the depth
of their essence, let it
ricochet through me in
forgotten undertones of being.

I purge myself through the
Lost memories of my ancient
voice, capturing them within
A moment, then release,
as my lungs breathe and my
eyes smart at the purging.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

If Poseidon would only pardon you for a moment

It’s odd, the thoughts
that haunt. . .
Do I make you proud?
Or is shame upon
your eyes.
Does your smile
brighten the heavens;
or are you frowning,
watching me drowning,
where I think
I’m swimming,
winning, some
would say sinning?
Where are you?
I reach out, feeling
for your touch,
I look, I search,
On butterfly wings
and floral scents,
then the radio plays
our song, and still
I’m left to wonder,
am I right or am I
wrong.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017 Image and words

To burn like pale fires.

Would you? Momentarily
pull me in close, stem
the void of noise, imbue upon
me the soft silence of
sanctuary. Validation is
such an annoyance of
need, desired yet stubborn
denial, fierce, yet. . .
vivid rainbow of chaos that
hides pale technicolor
aura. I am gentle as
much fierce, soft as
much hard, pure as much
erotic. Paused breath
I breathe in silent wisps
reading the world through
silent eyes. Would you?
Hold me as the Sun ascends,
descends, glittered trails
of desire lost in woken’s
dawn, I hear now the
ebbing flow of life’s
ethereal lake, and some days,
some days I am the lioness,
the wolf, the flames of Hell
fire and the essence of
desire that burns
within me. But other day
I am merely the falling
petals of the tuberose
delicate, fragrant,
pure, essence lost without
protection from the
elements.

Karen Hayward (c)2017 Image and words