Her World In Poetry

Voice from the grave

Crazy Crazy Crazy

I swear I’m going crazy

You know

I walk around

Eyes closed

I smile

I see something

I see money in my hand

I buy what I want

I do what I want

I sit where I want

Sleep where I want

I talk

I talk to no-one

No-one except me

But I do see things

I see…

I see me being different

I see me getting revenge

I see me buying a job

I see me buying friends

Buying a life

I swear I’m going crazy

I’ve won…

I’ve won the lottery so many times

Every time I close my eyes

I win

I win money

I win a house

I win a new life

I swear I’m going crazy

If these words…

If I didn’t write these words down

I would be punished

I would be sanctioned

Declared insane

But they are written

Because they are written

I’m just a dreamer

I’m a sucker

I’m a hoper

But I swear I’m going crazy.

Got any I.D. love

I am beached and now I am starting to be anxious

I am not supposed to be like this, I am the wrong template

My contour is not in recognition of achievements

I have been stripped again, my parcel unwrapped

Not many chances left and I know vocation is leaving me

Those moments watering my roots, over leniency is a crime

Step by step, my face cries and my eyes are dry

My Cadence grows and my body’s music is painful

My tsunami of heat scolds me so, My shuddering hand.

It meets my lips, A vice, Clamped on sin

My electrics are corrupted, but I still have power

A reassurance is never reassuring, My hundredth final time

My time hadn’t arrived yesterday, maybe today

More fuel, I shouldn’t, But life is a punishment

I have been punished long enough, But I always hear

“Come back when you are older”

You're There Again

I dreamt of you last night, though I hoped it was real

It may have well been the case, from the way you make me feel

Your Liquid Celtic Eyes, A voyeur at the throne

An illustration of a caring spirit, a guide to call my own

A siren is your identity in the green wilderness of great

Were you assigned to me? Is this simply this fate?

Were you created from all good we'd not resent

You are the chosen one, and in her shoes you represent

I often see those whirling eyes that are there when needed most

As I sleep upon my throne, in my dreams you are the host

I gently walk to your call in the manner I was born

Just to feel you touch my face your hands I must adorn

As my face moves to your gentles kiss often  blessed on me

I stand there before you in all presence as you lower to your knees

A kiss to the walk of life to the fertility in us all

To breast and lips and my minds eye, in turn you give the call

At first your mission was unknown to me and now I must know

Will you stay with me forever or are you going to go.

Can I say that eternity and devotion are my gifts to you,

To accept me in your circle, a student virginal and true

As my daily life comes to end at dark, My craft is put to test

A life with you as my eyes close bold  your guiding is the best.

Crying bird awakes me again in favour of the day ahead.

I stretch and think about why I am awake, is there a rationale

A slumber would benefit my misery more, misery built up in score

I do not want to be eyes wide open to the day ahead, Ignorant

Monotony is and has always been a murderer in my dwelling

I resist the ambush forced upon me in this pitiful place

Oh please let me doze to my satisfaction, I can reward such humbleness

Conceivably on my awakening I might understand why I am here

Perchance I may be honoured with what I hope to be the legitimacy.

My plea is relentlessly mistreated. My voice is quiet in comparison

Like a hand clap in a storm, I am not perceived, I never am.

Melancholy is the only word in my dictionary of life in this domain

The populace has devoted their actions to this act of hatred against homeland

Rudeness was their spoon, Manners was their chord.

Nations can never change their practice, nor can they change their people

A covert empire struggles to overcome the immoral, we stand alone.

Is desolation our everyday menu? Can we be fed anything else?

My table is offered to seat illuminations of hope and answers

It has been for the countless cycles I have resided

No power from the elevated can change the way we survive

We are our own commanders in existence, we elude danger

Yet we must eradicate the perpetrators, We are one land

Civil war is to take place at my table, previous endeavours were not conceivable

I hoped it would not come to this, A coffin is your demeanour silenced

I  know mistakes have been made, but life can only make so many mistakes

And this is your last. Your strings are cut. We have succeeded in one way.

Oh what a glorious morning. Well I used to think that.

Before my mind betrayed my heart, What have I done?

Non-Conformist ??

If I was to be conventional, Would it stop the staring?

If I was to be traditional, Would I be treated right?

If I was to do the accepted thing, Would I be allowed to walk head held high?

If I was to obey the rules, Can I sit in peace and be served?

If I was to play the game, Would you speak to me in the street?

If I was to behave kowtow, would you employ me?

If I was to conform would the world be any different?

If I was to rebel, what would piss you off the most?

If I was to stay as I am, would you get scared?

Well, Would You??

Floating Compass

So magic as you are and an arm reach away

Science separates what I want

So bold and bright and you are always there for me

You are my guide, my inspiration, my light

Before I was untaught you were primed

I know I am not alone in sharing you

But you make me feel individual

I am reassured, the way you float elegantly

Guiding me through everyday that I breathe

You are not vain knowing you are adored

You are worshipped and honoured

We owe you everything in life and more

This world would not exist if it was not in your presence

My life would be false and tedious

My hours would waste and my books would lie unread

But you are young, younger than me

Through my first quarter you still stumble to stand

But you have seen so much more than any man could dream

What’s your secret? I always ask in my thoughts

You don’t need to answer, for your presence tells me

It tells me what I need to know about vim and vigour

Will you always be there for me? I occasionally wonder

I shouldn’t really doubt that, I know,

My floating compass will never leave me.

Who Goes There

Moonlight hampered by nimbus forms

Unnerving jangle I hear from first to last hour

The shadowy precincts of my fort fall noxious

Unsettled I wonder the ramparts of my contemplation

A passage of night light I carefully gaze

I perceive no rationale of this commotion

Its summer foremost and stillness is customary

So what is poles apart from yesteryear I quiver

Striding unhurriedly the reason of my awaken

Logic has no sagacity in this darkened diminutive land

An explanation is hiding at a stone throw

But in shadowed stupidity A compass holds the key

My nimbus thoughts are numbed by realisation

My awaken moments are realised and my façade stands apart

For there am I, dead to the world, arranged before my mind

A delusion is my culprit, My slumber still continues

She Lies There

Boulder so hoary in shadow of the panoramic rooted gift that nurtures so bold

It sits alone but unified to those who shelter its course rough skin

Its beauty resembles the crimson ashen existence that rests upon it so

Drawn but viewed to secrete her quantified aphrodisiac contrivance.

As the creases of her moon beamed visage grows unyielding

The blackened silk threads plummet and wave in symmetry to the creaking plant.

Ecstasy is no reason for the power that devastates my conscious thoughts.

I am drugged and mortified, for what I distinguish when my light blinds fold

are never innocent to those who don’t know me.

Her cadaver twists gently as the breeze does to and I am engaged

No fear in this moment, buoyancy is life itself

And Harm Ye None, I speak softly to the voyeuristic life forces

They oblige and together as I coil the silk threads of splendour,

My arms are weighted and I am journeyed to my sacred chamber.

Liberty Is Near

Unhurried movement as you perambulate your restrictive boundaries

You own everything in a radius that environs your existence

Your mind knows no better about the division with your citizens and the inferior

You are not unaided. But the undermined can not battle what you do.

For we are the inferior! Capital is what belittles us and shows us no remorse to you

What can we do to show we are breathing the same element?

Is that a predicament? For there being no other source available to our avail

We do not pollute your radius! But you pollute ours with corruption.

I would compassionately destroy the margins in this world

If you would consent, to my passing of you in civic land without the grudge you hold.

How I live is of no value to you, Let me be. But gratify us our civil liberties

Unhurried movement as you perambulate your broken margins.

You nod your head in agreement, and I beam in acceptance.