Tag Archives: poetry

Monk’s House

Monk’s House

https://poetscornerblog.wordpress.com/2018/11/15/monks-house/
— Read on poetscornerblog.wordpress.com/2018/11/15/monks-house/

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Broken Voices

There are voices in the attic

Static sounds of confusion

Scattered murmurs of insecurity.

Voices of misshapen dreams

Lying dormant for so long

Now stirring, writhing whispers.

Attic beams once a safe space

Creaking and moaning uncontrollably

Holding back voices searching for escape.

There are voices in the attic

Bold and ready to be heard

Scratch. Click. Roar!

They are free.

More

Consume my physical receptacle

Pool your passion as you will

Favour the inevitable

As I swallow the bitter pill

Of realising your incompetence

Of being more than a physical presence

Leave me yearning for more substance

In my search for a soulmate’s essence.

From now on

From now on I’m not going to drown in your ugly words

From now on I’m not going to hug my sides because it hurts

From now on I’m not going to wish I could just disappear

From now on I’m going to wear my bruises loud and clear.

From this day forward I will climb back inside my skin

From this day forward I will be proud to be African

From this day forward my British roots won’t fail

From this day forward my Dutch forefathers will smile with pride as I prevail.

From now on I choose my destiny

From now on my skin speaks and says it’s free

From now on whomever I dare to love is okay

From now on till my last remaining day.

My Poetry Book is available from Lulu.

Whispers

Words slip so easily from loose lips

Releasing secrets meant for eternity

Their meaning resonating through the atmosphere

Causing ripples in the air around us

Washing icy cold winds through hearts once pure

Waving farewell to resigned contentment and ignorance

Welcoming the fury of considered insightfulness

The power of whispers made in jest

Content – gluedmirror

Further to my post the other day, Gluedmirror found something in my story that triggered his own way to express it – through poetry.

I appreciate how hard this must have been and appreciate the fact that it was his muse for a moment in time.


Here it is July already Still no path to calmness, still no connection Like a dancing live wire, burning holes in the pavement I remember my mother, laid up in that institution Waiting to die She had liked to write before I met her, and I went to find that girl  And I went to…
— Read on gluedmirror.wordpress.com/2018/07/01/content/

I am water – gluedmirror

I am water – gluedmirror
— Read on gluedmirror.wordpress.com/2018/05/29/i-am-water/amp/

Slipping Away

I feel as though bits of me are slipping away. The more I fulfil my dreams, the more my essence fades. Where is the balance between my destiny and my provenance? The journey doesn’t secure a link to both. Though I’ll gladly discard the parts that are unsecured and tangible, the rest I want to retain.

I feel as though bits of me are slipping away. Maybe one day I will awaken to the butterfly and not the caterpillar. Until then, my doubt lingers like the promise of metamorphosis.

Saturday Night Poetry

Hello and welcome.

Any poet will tell you that events and people inspire the art. Our exchanges breathe moments of desire, passion and slowly dying embers of deceit or delight. As the intensity passes, we are left with the memories of the encounter and this rare beast is what we try to capture within our words. Well, at least I do!

This poem, for me, is the moment trust dies in a relationship. It could be a friendship, a loved one, a relationship with a workmate or boss. In time, we all experience events where life becomes art and the words that encapsulate that emotion are trapped forever.

I hope this poem as much as I enjoyed writing it.  It doesn’t have a name yet. Maybe you could suggest one in the comments below.

Have a great evening.

 

Nuances once found endearing

Now grate against my skin

Scratching, screaming down my vertebrae

Telling me all your sins

Incompetence and flagrant misdirection

Needles picking at your consistence

Integral parts of my anatomy

Shouting out allegories against your existence

Deprivation within the biomass

This disorder known as yourself

Rip disregarded respect and faith

Away from all harmony; my loss, your wealth

 

 

Copyright held by ©Eloise De Sousa (2018)

 

Snow Day

White flakes silence the world

Muffled in a blanket of cold

Heat cries in dismay.

Crunching footsteps

High pitched laughter

Flying balls find their hysterical targets.

Icy fingers purpling

Breath now heavy

Time to find the noise and warmth again.