Butterfly

Butterfly

Awkward
Movement slowed, gripped tight,
In a straight-jacket of pain.

Bending
An effort of will, forced round,
Sometimes too much.

Frustration
The need to escape, wrenched out,
Inner strength winning.

Curling
Close to the goal, comfort glimpsed,
The final heave down.

Freedom
Relaxed, graceful flowing glide,
In her natural element.

for Kath August 2007

Hope

Hope

Closed in, dark and pressing,
I’m searching for the light
My lungs are full and burning,
Cold fingers clutch me tight,
I’m losing hold of reason,
All that is left is fight.
And one small scrap of, “maybe …”

The only sound is crashing
Thunder in my ears,
The only thought is, “final,”
Torn from my darkest fears,
The aching overwhelms me,
And stabs and cramps and sears.
But one small scrap of, “maybe …”

Calm is spreading outwards,
From that one small scrap inside,
Catch hold once more of reason,
My mind is open wide,
Reach out, take hold, control it,
Now purpose is my guide.
But …
August 2007

Real Hope

I thought I'd better post the alternative ending, before too many of my friends think I'm feeling totally depressive. Mostly the opposite really, not manic, but elated! However, this is not the "director's cut." I've limited it to the last 2 lines of the last verse as it's only the last line that is different.
I nearly published this version instead last week, but ...


Hope




...
Now purpose is my guide.
From one small scrap inside.

August 2007







I prefer the other line, although I like the alternative graphic.

confusion

confusion

nerves jangle
brain fogs
decisions not made
solutions unfound
visions cloud
thoughts stumble
plans fade
no relief
or rest
just confusion

2:30 7th Aug 2007

Dilemma

Dilemma

The words just fall into place,
Each in its own special time,
They arrange themselves with ease,
Without searching for rhythm or rhyme.

The songs for the places are simple,
The poems for my thoughts seem to flow,
But the ones for people, they haunt me,
Where they belong I really don’t know.

The ones for places are bland,
The ones for thoughts are obscure,
But the ones for people are dangerous,
Should I chance it and share them? I’m not sure!

They mean more to me that the others,
But the damage they could do is immense,
Should I keep them, show them, or hide them?
Should I risk causing offence?

Do they leave me with feelings laid bare?
Do they show what I really should hide?
Should I write them and burn them straight after,
Or just keep them locked safely inside?

They torture my brain with emotion,
They wring out my spirit with pain,
Feelings burst to be free and be noticed,
But I crush them back down once again.

2:15 7th Aug 2007