Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Oct 2020 Ayesha
Tom Salter
Tomorrow I shall go to the beach
And begin to throw each stone,
Pebble and rock back
Into the sea,

But I shall deprive the lonely conch
And the bundles of seaweed,
They shall stay on this
Stoneless coast,

And I shall sweep the snow
Back into the clouds and
Cut the mountains
Down into the ground,

I shall unsow the forests and
Consume the leftover seeds
And perhaps if you let me, I
Will persuade the bees
To disperse,

I shall do all this,
All this ******, out
Of fear
Of the universe.

Am I heard ?
Am I heard ?
 Oct 2020 Ayesha
Me
The Beginning
 Oct 2020 Ayesha
Me
The old Villa creaks under your careful steps. You know each nook and cranny, each dark, friendly and not so friendly corner. The wood and marble staircase spirals up like a reminiscent Chinese dragon, half asleep but moving. The chandelier - once crystal-clear and almost arrogant in its sparkling shine - now hangs from the high ceiling, unsure and slightly insecure about its own value. The doorknob under your warm hand feels irritatingly cold but familiar. You walk into what you know will be the hardest room for you. The room that you have avoided all this time but that, now, moves itself into your presence and you know, because you feel it, you cannot avoid it any longer. You don’t have to, either.
You turn the ****, and with a soft push the door gives in. One step, and you are in the room. You smell it, dusty childhood smell;
you know this, oh you know this, immediately. Yellow paper before you, crumpled school books, old toys, all of it - you remember
all of this.
You stand still for a moment. Half inside the room, half ready to leap backwards and shut the door again. You take a breath,
gathering your courage, your stability.
Then you experience a surging feeling, a wave-like movement that both comes towards you and seems to be oozing out of you, seeps from right out of your body, your chest. For a moment you have to close your eyes; it is too much.
Then,
in a powerful second inhale, you drink it all up, all of it, surrender
to all of this
understand
suddenly
with a magnificent pain and hot compassion, a lighting strike, that
all of it
until here
was necessary
made sense
makes sense
That you are all of this and more
and more
So much more.
Your lungs hold this breath, hold it for a timeless moment
before you, with utmost decisiveness and finality, open your eyes again
in slow-motion
facing
one last time
all of it

Saluting every single cherished item

Before you let
this
breath


out


and let everything

explode before your eyes

every structure


You lower your eyes


take a mental bow and step

back


And another step

You see



everything being lifted, moved around


unbound


explode in the air, into a million particles that are free to dance now


The things

the staircase the door the


room



the house



open


~


Somewhere at the shore, in white sand, a figure wakes up, stretching and shifting, squinting at the sparkling rays of sunlight reflected from the soft ocean waves. A naked, peaceful figure. The beach is as good as any place, and from here it begins.

A vague memory is welling up to the surface - vague, and yet engraved with care and absolute clarity;
there were certain things waiting here for a while.

A few meters away in the shade of the pine trees, there -

The figure gets up, a smile growing to full radiance. Naked feet starting to walk towards those trees, towards

Towards
 Oct 2020 Ayesha
Nonah
Framed
 Oct 2020 Ayesha
Nonah
In the densest fogs
Wander morning birds

Between the trees, evergreen
Yet ever unseen

You can hear the croak of frogs
Their own amphibian words

The day crests high
Light fills the leaves

Glowing green among the gold
As seen from below, but not above

Until then comes the night
And the world then goes to sleep

To wonder if the sun will rise
Once more for different eyes

Or if the same will see
The lovely forest green
Life, time
 Sep 2020 Ayesha
Dr Peter Lim
Come to me in the dearest cheer of spring's happiness
visit me in the bleakest hour of lonely winter
as my mood in autumn sinks into gentle greyness
I'll reflect upon the sunshine of summer-

life is enshrined in every season's splendour
how love bursts into song in the heart of the lover
when I fade away as the last flowers in slumber
memories of me will you still treasure?
* after Shelley,  Rupert Brooke, Christina Rossetti and the Bronte sisters'.
 Sep 2020 Ayesha
Erian Rose
Cemetery
 Sep 2020 Ayesha
Erian Rose
A brink of clouded moonlight
amongst oranges and blood-kissed red tucked away between headstones
with stories longing to tell
Next page