#ProjectInspiredPoetry

Poems based around or inspired by all of my Facebook friends. Before 31 December 2013, there will be a poem for every Facebook friend of mine.

Musical Tears

It sits like a powerful god in the centre:
a black sheen reflecting the room’s light.
Standing proudly, firmly on four solid legs,
it waits for the talented to take its seat…

As he sits down on the cushioned seat,
he lifts the solid black gently.
His fingers rest softly on the ivories and ebonies;
a deep breath before the prelude.

Sound stabs through the sombre silence –
it fills the voids of pain.
He sways to the touch of his fingers;
the music takes him away.

Mozart makes the tears slip down his face,
but it mends his heartache (even for a little).
At least the keys accept his truth,
even if his own blood does not.

Tide of Truth

She walks onto the sandy beach
With a smile on her warm face.
She picks up a stick which is drowning
In the sunlight and begins to draw.
The end of the stick shifts sand
Into a loving heart.
Inside a giant
Letter for him
+
Letter for her.
She smiles as he looks onward
And chases her along the beach
Into the shallow waters where
They embrace:
Teenage lovers.

The wind blows her hair
Into her eyes as she stares at
The flat horizon of the sea.
She thinks – deeply – and glances
At him walking slowly towards
Her and a tear leaks from her eye
And makes the water saltier.
As he sits next to her
She just puts her hand on her stomach
And he realises what he has done.
As a wave crashes she realises
That’s not the only thing that
Has just crashed.

The overcast weather matches
The grey threads emerging from her scalp.
She walks slowly along the shore
Allowing the water to softly lick
Her journeyed feet.
She passes a young child and
Wonders whether her child
Will ever return her calls she
Has left for several years.
She comes across a heart drawn
In the sand with
Letter for him
+
Letter for her.
The water quickly envelops the meaning
And retreats leaving behind
A blankness; a truth.

She: sea water.
Child: shaped sand.
Truth: given up forever.

Bondage

He will not be tied down by rules.
(he wants to be tied down)
He will escape all prison cells of society.
(he wants to be locked up)
He wants to live without regret.
(try all the different ways of pleasurable pain)
His problems are tied to him so he runs.
(he wants to be walked over and be torn)
The heat is what he wants to avoid.
(he wants fire to be involved).
But he never wants to hurt anyone.
(only be hurt himself – willingly)

His dream is to find someone who wants to be tied down.
(he feels tied down himself)
He wants to handcuff them to his love.
(all he needs is to be free for a day)
He wants to please a lover with danger games.
(he regrets it when they run away in fear)
The desire to be wanted so badly to destroy.
(he tries everyone in his search for it)
He wants to be seen as cool – to his own mind.
(he’ll light up the bed sheets – literally)
He doesn’t want to feel emotional pain.
(what if hurting the lover is the only way?)

Brother

I stare out of the misted window at the snow
And somehow I see your young face and I know
That you’re safe now away from the pain
Because you’re safely aboard Heaven’s luxury train.
Your smiling face brightens up my dark days;
It gives me strength, makes me brave in indescribable ways.

I can carry on knowing you’re with me;
Through me perhaps you can be.
Even in the salty tears of my heartache
I see your strength and it makes my demons seem fake.
You went too soon via a way too cruel:
This is my motivation, my fuel
Because one day I will heal the scars,
Turning the burnt out souls into stars.

It was the hardest thing to see leave,
But I know that you could no longer breathe.
One day I’ll see you again and we can share
Our stories we couldn’t bear.

In your final hours I felt your soul shine;
And it was then I knew it would all be fine.

Pillow Person

Caught in an ocean of bed sheets
she holds tightly onto the buoy of her pillow
so that she will not drown in her nightmares.
She clutches onto the fabric
and it gives her a degree of desired comfort.
She wraps her amiable arms around
the cool comforting fabric as she closes her eyes.
A single salty tear drop is absorbed
into the thirsty fluff and disappears,
leaving behind a slight stain – familiar.
The currents of her sleep carry her to
another place where everything is warped together.
She slowly releases the pillow protection
and drifts restlessly into various positions
as the waves tumble her about.

She is thrown onto the coarse sand
of reality and feels like a discarded shell.
As she lifts herself from her slumbered state,
she enters into the real tsunami thought:
the future.

She floats into bed this time:
She feels the presence of another
and smiles softly as he holds her close.
She feels his warmth against her body
as she slowly slips into sleep.
Her dreams are inadequate because
now her reality is her dream.
She sleeps soundlessly and peacefully
as the ocean calmly carries her body
to the island of her happiness.

Cartoonist

A soft crescent moonlit evening
lights the garden and exposes
the weeds that should have been removed.
He slips carefully into the hammock between
the two trees and sips his drink
as he stares at the mocking moon.

He cries, as he always does, and longs
for his lost love.
All he wanted was the look
she gave his best friend the day
they ran off together.
Instead he got a note on his car window
(it was in the red lipstick he bought her):
SORRY NOT SORRY
His heart wasn’t broken for that implies
the heart must have been intact.
He simply hoped his suspicions were false.

The night-wind flows through his hair
and he puts down the glass, takes a pen
and scribbles his nightly pain in
the form of a cartoon.
Tonight:
A giant half-heart and a bloodied knife,
a simple caricature of his feelings.
He signs his forgotten name below
and goes inside his
empty house.

Enigma Girl

We all see her walk into the room –
her head held high and her smile
as radiant as the sun.
She swirls around the room
like a sweet addictive scent
and everyone is drawn to her,
birds to nectar.
We feed off her radiance and get
high off her fumes of fun
and swoon all the way to
the land of fantasy and
please-be-with-me.
She’s worse than cocaine
and sweeter than sugared honey drops.
She holds her own and makes even
the biggest of us feel
minute.

But when it comes to love
she seems to be careful who
to let into her world…
Because she has been hurt
by the one before
(who was the first).
She’s an enigma gypsy
running away from the feelings
that unlock the doors of that pain
and she refuses to be vulnerable again.

She frustrates all of us because
we cannot get into her life as
deeply as we all want to.
And it seems like she wants us
to come to that place but then
she slams the door in our faces
and we stand with broken noses,
shattered hearts but somewhere
I realise it’s not her fault.

And so they keep running after her
and she doesn’t understand why…
She breaks her mirror in fury and
cries a river of confusion to wash
away her insecurity which always
return in showers.

She is blessed, however, and she knows,
she knows that she is special in some way.
One day she will receive the package
she ordered in her dreams and she’ll be

free of her chains!

Indecision

“I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
– The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

To choose one of two great loves:
A happy forever after scattered
with the occasional rough patch.
But never both.

FIRST:
Love.
Happiness in the arms
of someone beautiful
in and out.
A love to wrap around myself
like a fleece blanket in a snowy tundra.
Security knowing that even if I had
nothing
I would have someone
who would make it everything.

SECOND:
Art.
A steady career filled with limitless opportunities
that would let me see the world.
And a guaranteed growth of character
experiencing the genius of countless creators
scattered across the globe
like cloudlets of passion.

CHOICE:
I cannot have both;
I must decide.
Success will only come
in the hands of sacrifice.

CONFUSION:
Loving both with my soul
but knowing my soul is single-chambered
and has a hollow for only one.
The swirling in my mind confuses
and disorientates.
Speared thoughts from every second
person saying what I should do.

HURT:
Knowing I will have to turn
away
from one for the other.
And longing for that which
I
did
not
choose.

DECSION?
Indecisive.

Glamour Gourmet Gorgeous

I’m so full from my gourmet Michelin meal.
I’m empty, so empty – it’s how I feel.

I just Instagrammed my new diamond ring.
I feel like common stone commoners merely fling.

These Louis Vuitton shoes fit me so.
I’m incapable of filling shoes: I can’t grow…

Envy the zeros on my bank statement.
My esteem is a zero balance, lower than a basement.

The cost of my Aston could feed starving children in Ethiopia.
At least they are grateful unlike in my Utopia.

The 3 storey mansion has all I could desire,
But this life has extinguished my passion, my fire.

Check out this 5 star luxury resort,
I feel so poor like a forgotten, withering fort.

Stare at my super model boyfriend…
I’ve never felt real love. The end.

My face is modelled against perfection:
This facade hides a cracked complexion.

People are jealous of my picture perfection;
But to me life is my solitary, harsh detention.