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There are stories in your eyes.

I never told you how
sometimes I fell asleep
with the thought that you
were perhaps the moon-

always disappearing
with the dawn.
I would awake with
nothing
but the shape of you
on my bed and the
gloom of you on
my skin.
i’m


    began                                        back

    ­
     i                                                            agai­n


where                                              at


    from ­                                  the

       place
 Oct 2014 CAROLYN BAYNE
Anand
I strive to be
like a Bo-Tree,
Dwelling so Deep
my Roots that Seek
water and nutrients from soil

Yet High I Rise
To be more Wise
by embracing
the nourishment
of Light!
This came to me when I was looking at the Pipal Tree in my garden. It has grown very tall in 8 years, and it's roots have spread far and deep.

This can be looked at from different perspectives:

1. To be strong and rooted to one's own principles, ethics and moral values. And building on them one should have a tendency to always learn something new, to attain wisdom.

2. To be strong believer of good age old teachings, traditional way of life that we are so accustomed to, that are passed on to us by our elders but also welcoming new changes and good reforms in the society.

Please feel free to reflect on your thoughts and express your perspective.
A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains


A poet
Is Poetry
You & I,
are a lullaby

We're the deafening *silence

just after the crash
we are moments of happiness
that never last

We're a riddle
that has no answer
we are both the cure
and the cancer

We've read this book
a thousand times, and in our hearts
we both know this fairytale
can never have a happy ending
I wish it did.....
Why do we feign such rapturous delight,
in pretence to others that all is alright,
what if the soul is quietly suppressed,
cloaked in darkness, hidden and repressed,

Are we ashamed to drape the veil,
to retreat into darkness and embrace the pale,
truth can be found from deep in a frown,
so why wear the clothes and tears of a clown.

© H V Swan
 Oct 2014 CAROLYN BAYNE
Sia Jane
I'm made of all;
The books I've ever read
Poems I've ever written
Faces who have smiled at me
Hugs that have wrapped around me
Caresses that have graced my inner thigh
Countries & continents my feet have touched
The lovers as we simultaneously reach ecstasy within
Lonely nights shedding tear drops
Nights gazing black skies moon & stars
Children falling asleep to my heartbeat
Animals whose soul was found through reflective eye stares
Conversations spoken in French, Spanish, Italian, Xhosa, Afrikaans, Norwegian, German
Years of ******-, cognitive-, dialectical-, art-, drama-, music-, mindfulness-, trauma-, psychiatry-; therapies
The drinks & drugs & mind altering substances dispersing my mind
In all I'm made of;
Love
Lust
Greed
Fear
Joy
Freedom
Longing
Dreams
Despair
Sadne­ss
Anger
Frustrations
Happiness
Anxieties
Insecurities....

In all I'm made of;

A soul; securely contained within a body of battled scars;
over;
pain & triumphs, losses & gains, rejections & acceptances, dishonours & accolades...

With the hope; she too, can live life through.

© Sia Jane
Written at 1.53am
When did it visit me?
I really don't know when.
It came out of nowhere,
I feel that it's a sin.

Naked in the shower,
washing up clean.
I felt this little lump,
scared and unforeseen.

Feeling all alone,
I looked up to the sky.
Fingers locked together,
I asked the Lord, "Why?"

Now, I lay in silence,
while the tumor grows inside.
Putting up these walls,
all I do is cry.

Months have gone by,
with the chemo and the draws.
The sickness took my *******,
now that's the final straw.

It's been six months now,
I struggled for my life.
I beat the **** cancer.
I AM HAPPY, I WILL SURVIVE!!
My mother is a breast cancer survivor. But I also wrote this for all the survivors and to the ones to whom that lost their battle with this disease!  PLEASE SHARE AND LET THIS TREND!!
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