Hope #Poetry

She appeared over the rise of green hills and yellow meadows. Against the sunlit backdrop of cloudless sky stretching to the heavens. The blonde locks of her hair become a halo, billowing against the soft breeze. An angel set upon the Earth. Even as the glint of iron armour bulks around her form, dulled sword thrust into the ground as though seeking to claim the hill, there is a softness to her. A beauty unlike any I had seen, and she stood strong as a great warrior.

In the distance, beyond the wave of hair framing her face, an army stands still. Silent. Fearless. These are her demons, each one her weaknesses manifest. Fear. Hatred. Anger. Loneliness. Sadness. Her past and present interwoven around her, threaded by the dripping scarlet-strands joined to her heart, unraveling the slowly beating organ. Leaving a void within and a protective cocoon with-out.

Before her I stand, hand outstretched to feel sword that gleams as her eyes. Armor-less and sword-less I become the strength of the blade firmly planted at her feet. With willing smile I impart myself to it, its sheen suddenly ready to crush the earth. Soft words of adoration become a single swing against these demons that threaten to overwhelm. Ears that listen to her words shoot gleams of bright light, washing over the protective shell she weaves.

Each swing against the enemy now strengthens her. Each cut dwindles the number of demons, threads of what once was winding back to reform her heart. I become her hope. Hope that banishes fear and hatred and anger and loneliness and sadness. Hope that reshapes her present and strengthens her future. Hope in the fiery passion that flows between us like the rivers of life, filling the void of her heart as we unite as one.

I as the only army she requires.

I as her hope.

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Let’s Pretend: Guest Poem – Ole’s Truth #Poetry

Another heart-wrenching poem by Olerato of Ole’s Truth.

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Okay so let’s play a game of pretend.

Let’s pretend for a second that I was in love with you.

While we’re at it, let’s pretend for a second you were in love with me too. What would our love affair look like? how would the story of our meeting go and would my face have the rosy, angelic glow of someone in love when they recount watching the rose in the concrete that is their love take seed and grow.

Let’s pretend. Let’s pretend I could look in the mirror and see myself measure up to your standards.

Would I be the image of something you call beautiful or would I be all that’s left for a cornered animal feeling the walls of time closing in on them?

Would I be your best or simply the rest in place of the dream of what you once had for yourself?

Let’s just pretend Let’s pretend I never lose you to another man and build a pretend world where we count the passing days by the mornings we spent in bed and the night we spent doing anything but sleeping for fear that we might miss each other too much. Let our game of pretend be held in this pretend world where we pretend count the passing of time by the passing of rose tinted seasons and such. Let time not touch us in this world. Let’s make love. Let’s make pretend love in the fullness there of, feeling each other into the eternal vows we’d make to each other to take. Take care of each other. Give as much as we take from each other.

Let’s pretend we stood in each other’s waltz-like embrace as time got hard and we realise that raising kids is a lot harder than anyone told us it would be. Let’s pretend our teenage son has started to rebel and out teenage daughter thinks we’re the devil. They both hate us.

But let’s pretend through it all that we’d hold each other close even as we see them off to college and eventually down the isle.

Let’s pretend we’re alone again and our empty nest is filled with a strong but nostalgic kinda love. That we’ve been through hell and back kinda love. That I gave you the space to grieve our drunk driving statistic of a son and our suicide story of a daughter. They still kinda hated us. But that’s okay because we held strong, showering them with all the love and adoration our star-crossed hearts could muster.

Let’s pretend the constant worrying over your mental state and bottled up grief over our kids turns me pale and has me lose my mind’s creative luster.

Let’s pretend that I fall ill and despite this gown made of hospital tubes, my bones that ache and my skin that burns, I still just wanna be held by you.

Even though I’d never wanna leave you I see the reaper at your shoulder staring with sad and hollow eyes. As the old man takes my hand, I close my eyes and pretend his hand is yours. Let’s pretend our life was tragic but happy despite our best intentions.

Let’s pretend in the end we couldn’t keep out misery and one of us will eventually leave. Would you still wanna pretend with me?

Would you stay here and play pretend with me?

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Do you have poetry you would like to share on my blog? Any sort, any length and any topic. Let me know 🙂

Trance #Poetry

The wind moved with the uncertain gait of a certain brown-haired beauty causing storms with a mere smile.Though new to the flock none noticed the slight gleam and juvenile twinkle accompanying hidden guile. Caught. Fraught. I sought not to entertain the thought but the heart moves on strings it aught not. No surprise then when I was left essentially immobile. Heart and mind volatile.

We moved through breathless spaces lingering just beyond palpitating collisions. The span of stars stretching above us yet still suffocating within the clutches of inadmissable decisions. Ire. Desire. Star-crossed bonfire set to burn the world like uncontrollable bush fire with heart-shaped precisions.

At first sight with rose-tainted glasses the air shimmered with each furtive glance. Engaged in the age-old dance we waltzed across thin blade holding nothing but chance. Inclined. Maligned. We resigned to remain confined in asphyxiating dark spaces keeping us blind. Lest we are forcefully pulled from that willful circumstance. Reality wrenching us from rue-filled blissful trance.

Addicted

I am consumed, daily.

Intensity of need, convulsing the heart.

I am addicted. Plainly.

 

Every waking thought,

Devoured by obsessive appetite.

Insatiable, I am fraught.

 

Yearning. Craving. Greedy.

Dreams both day and night assault me.

Passionately, I am needy.

 

Is this love?

Gravity

 

Everything that rises must fall.

Therefore my soaring heart flies in fear,

It’s glazed eyes trembling with impending fear.

Gravity, why must you call?

 

It’s an inescapable reality,

Even the bird must rest its feet,

And death awaits in our defeat,

Gravity what a cruel entity.

 

When you fall, get up again,

But how often can you keep crashing,

Getting up after each lashing,

Gravity, how you cause pain.

 

Hope in Gravity’s consistency,

Prepare your hearts better for the future

Learn from pain as your tutor.

Gravity, we only respect you implicitly.

 

Blue as Oceans

Blue.

As oceans.

Electrified gaze jolts synapses and palpitates heart.

And notions

Spew

 

Elation

Utter bliss

as dazzling smile causes clammy palms

to reminisce

admiration.

Tranquillity in Melancholy

Image courtesy of: Cheri Lucas Rowlands – The Daily Post

The temptation to let himself sink into the cold abyss of the waters below grew stronger the longer he bobbed over the swaying waves. It wasn’t that he didn’t value his life, rather, it was the idea of living with the hollow chasm in his chest that pulled him down, a chasm that painted his world in shades of melancholy and depression. The problem was in the fact that he could pinpoint  exactly where the feeling was coming from and although he tried to fill the emptiness with all kinds of activity, they all proved to be nothing more than distractions, distractions that couldn’t prevent the bursts of anger and sadness consuming his heart in the dark of night, when the bare pale ceiling hung above him like a weight, ready to crush his weakened soul. But lying there in the water, staring up at the blue emptiness above him…he could endure it all a bit more. The day ahead seemed to be looming over him, an avalanche of unwelcome emotion ready to bury him in the frigid darkness that defined his heart. Already he could hear the animated chatter and fits of laughter that continuously reminded him that he just didn’t fit in. Nails into the coffin for what he lacked was the ubiquitous emotion known as love. Not that he hated the emotion, nor the approaching event – rather it was the memory of the golden tresses that his fingers once slipped through that he always associated with the event; the soft thin lips, pink, pouting as they approached his own, eyes fluttering closed and that single skipped beat that suffused his chest with a deep warmth – a feeling inexplicable. So what then did he make of that cursed day? A memorial to a love lost, to the joy he can never reclaim? Or does it become a quest initiating epoch in search of requited love. He wasn’t sure but then again, in the warmth of the day and coolness of the waters and with the world around him awash in tranquillity, it was easy to just be.

Contemplative. That was what he was. A moment did not pass when he did not suffer the pang of regret nor the elation of delight as he contemplated his past. A particular moment had been surfacing during the course of his aimless drift along the waters, a conversation that had occurred beside him though he was not part of it. What he remembered most about that moment was that the golden tresses that he had so lovingly caressed, where now lying upon his chest and he could hear the steady breathing that emanated from slightly parted lips. His fingers had slipped through the silken hairs, and a mutter had escaped the parted lips, incoherent until he’d whispered against the soft ears,

“What?”

“I… can not…. love you.” the lips repeated, barely above a whisper but loud enough to dig daggers into his beating heart.

“You can not…love me?”

“Mhm…I cannot.” the tresses had swung slightly with the imperceptible shake of head.

“Why not?” he’d asked but the voice was silent, asleep.

Melancholic. That’s how he’d felt, the next morning as light filtered into the room in which they had fallen asleep, watching as fingers wiped fatigue from sleepy eyes before the grey orbs fell upon his own with inexpressive emptiness, as though his existence had no meaning. Echoes of an unspoken conversation swept through the chasm that once held his heart but he feigned a smile.

“Morning” He’d said.

“Good morning!” A reply and smile returned to him.

“Did you sleep well?”

“You make a great pillow so yes.”

“Are you calling me fat?” A playful slap across his arm and sweet laughter filled his ears, but they could not dampen the rising flood swelling up within him. Nonetheless he let it pass, he let the tranquillity wash over his emotions as he extended a hand out.

“We’ll get fat together with some breakfast.” He’d said playfully, hoping to illicit a different emotion within himself. As the hand clasped around his, he found that he couldn’t, and never would. Not while his heart was in chaos.

__________

In response to the daily writing challenge:

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/05/prompt-sleep/

Lamentations

Rain drops keep falling on my head

Lam·en·ta·tion noun/lamənˈtāSHən/

~ The passionate expression of grief or sorrow; weeping.

         I think many can attest to the fact that, music can play on your emotions greatly, especially during certain periods in your life whether its a time of sorrow or joy. There is a song for each emotion and each situation we can find ourselves in. I found myself listening to the Gaither Vocal Band, which is one of my favourite A Capella groups ever. They were singing a slower version of “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go” (the only other version I know is sung at a faster pace by  Chris Rice) and I was actually overwhelmed by emotion at the words which go:

O Love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee;

I give thee back the life I owe, That in thine ocean depths its flow,

May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way, I yield my flickering torch to thee;

My heart restores its borrowed ray, That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day

May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee;

 I trace the rainbow through the rain, And feel the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head, I dare not ask to fly from thee;

I lay in dust life’s glory dead, And from the ground there blossoms red

Life that shall endless be.

Such powerful lyrics! What grace! What Mercy! Praise be to God and may His kingdom come!