Sullen Little Nightmares

 

as the weather changes

I dream of death and persecution

awoken by tears

full of outrage and despair

I sweat under bed clothes

designed for colder nights

the cold humidity has wandered in

on soft little boots

smothering my dreams

dreams that fight back

in sullen little nightmares

 

 

Copyright June 2017

Chthonic Cycles

 

a calm has settled upon me

the tumultuous thoughts of this morning

have settled somewhere safely in a corner

a part of my mind where hurts go to heal

 

sometimes there is such loneliness in depression

a need for love so strong it manifests as pain

a huge lump in my centre cutting off air

and a blank in my brain where hope once was

 

this morning I walked with heavy steps in the sun

Churchill’s black dog strained at a tight leash

choking me with tales of nothingness and no need

outsider, no-hoper, social-misfit, crone

 

it is true, if you wait, another mood comes

hours, days, months later it ventures in

highlighting a flower, a photo, a word

and a small slither of hope enters the world

 

 

Copyright June 2017

 

 

Childhood in Concrete

 

she remembers sitting

outside the church

on concrete steps

lost in conversation

with the others in her head

 

a strange little girl

obsessed with religious icons

and the stories of martyrs

she often felt faint

overwhelmed with anxiety

 

she could’ve been abducted

by aliens or those that prey

on little girls on steps

outside of catholic churches

but she wasn’t

 

 

Copyright June 2017

The Taste of Words

 

her brain creates stories

out of patches of sunlight

purple and green ribbons

and the aroma of cinnamon

sprinkled on honeyed hot chocolate

 

some days she spices it up

with ginger and a pinch of chilli

the tales become hot and steamy

and she requires a fan

to cool her flushed overactive mind

 

in more rational times

she writes cool minty tomes

where facts align themselves

in neat parallel rows

all syllables are counted

 

 

Copyright June 2017