How far would you travel from where you were born?

She spends more on her dogs in one week,
Than the government provides for those in trouble.

She’s a naturally happy person.

The mottled concrete walls of the council block she’s moved in to,
Complement her pock-marked, pink skin.

For a rich person,
She’s ugly.

The doors to buildings are painted bright colours,
-blues and greens-
And stand out against the brown stone that is everywhere.

Kevin is a mousey young man with stringy brown hair,
Recovering from drugs,
And she thinks he looks like a very nice man.

They are playing football on cement outside,
-plants are expensive-
Now talking over vegetables, around a table,

About the young mothers who will be coming in to learn,
How to grow turnips -
Like growing confidence, they’ll be told.

Did you know that people move to Dundee from Warsaw?

Makes you wonder what Warsaw is like-
-who’s fault it is that people can’t eat alcohol-

She’s hanging knickers out to dry and telling me that she’s discovered,
She doesn’t need all the shoes that she has,

And would it do if she were to donate,
A hundred and fifty thousand pounds?

They smile when they receive their checks.

Their blue doors fly open,
And when they say thank you, they mean it,
The money is enough.

Round the back,
The husband is in tears.

A brook runs through my Grandmas farm,
That used to carry gold.

My Grandpa
-Benjamin-

Did not yield the land,
To the British, who wanted it dammed.

In 1968, they took him in,
To have his appendix removed,
And Grandma never remarried.

My Aunt Alice,
Was a witch.

She flew in on broomsticks
We never saw,

But heard in the barn,
Where she parked.

She brought foreign sweets that didn’t
Crack our lips,
And told us naughty jokes.

-Oh Pope the *******,
Please pass the Custard!-
We’d squeal and never tell,

And feel all grown up and,
Conspiratorial.

Grandma says she died running with
The wrong pack,

That she was knocked from the sky,
By a cross.

Later we learned,
It was a broken heart that did it, that

Grandma wouldn’t accept a,
Jewish man in the house,

So she killed herself.

Mary was dead when we got here,
Her tree is the prettiest.

It’s a large yellow poplar that
Trembles in the slightest breeze.

She was a violinist,
A frail, little thing, who

Is fading away in family photographs.

Irridescent sparrows trill,
Beautiful harmonies,
From skinny branches,

Shielded by the most delicate,
Drooping fronds.

You see, my Grandmother has three beautiful trees,
Growing in her garden,

One for Benjamin, one for Alice, one for Mary.

My grandmother used to sit under these trees.
They’re feeding off the bones she says.

When Peace evades me
     and Hope fades to a memory.

When Frustration and Grief become my only friends
     and Weak and Weary try their best to settle in.

Just as Hatred is knocking at my door...

My knees find their way to the floor
    
      and I cry out

I NEED YOU LORD, like never before.


© Tina Thompson

When you are born,
You know that you are,
Here to change the world,
And it is good,
And it’s alright,
To do your best.

Then,

You’re checking the curtains,
Just in case,
You run out of sunshine.

I* am the one who owns this game
This game of cat and mouse; the chase
Not him, not them, not those
The men
Who think it is in their place

The ones who covet the loving gleam
In a woman’s drawn up eyes
But then tell her that she was no more
Than a *****, a ****; filthy pennies in disguise

They leave her rotten, confused, revised
Writing sickly poems of love and gore
Reflection in her puzzled heart
Rebuild the sloppy, slaughtered gears, restart and then restore

I have written those poems too,
When I bore marks of the lost and broken
whispered words, shaking from my lips,
of things yet unspoken

Now I need no more
For poetry unheeded brings more sorrow on which to thrive
And anyways poetry writes itself for me,
Cause I have eaten it, alive

I have learned the trades of love
And unlearned how to feel
I threw my heart away gladly
For the others I could steal

I am the one who pulls you in,
Not you, strong soldier, the statue,
clearly cut and manned
I am the one whose glistening strife
Slides, dripping, through your open hands

I have the voice, purring rolls of silk,
Emerald slants, gaudy blue feathered eyes
Lupines bloom upon my lips
And foxgloves on my thighs

I have the sterling studs of class
The cocky robin smile,
A drink like silver wine am I
From a savory crystal vile

I have the shift of gentleness,
A tender, blooming embrace
You hold nothing but trust in me
Adoration upon your disgusting face

But I know something you do not
That only I have the key
Patience until the shaking burst
A monster waiting to break free

She howls and rips your heartstrings raw
Ignores your pleading glance with glee
A smirk, a sneer, arched lips pause
Knowing your demise is our reward
We won’t stop until you cease to be

I have strength beneath my beloved monster’s wings
The power to bend with whip-like throw
Each man I take, battles for my neck
And I slaughter each, basking in the glow

We have done this for ages
Sold perfection, curving laces at every door
Like gypsies we steal what you cling to most
Our silver infused fingers beckoning for more

Love is no longer fun for us
We crave deception, challenged lies,
We’ll never give you what you want
Only slay your mind and watch as it dies

As the madness creeps on mottled claws
And you beg and plead curled up in pain
Letting us in through your wracking body rocks
A glimpse, peeled back to reveal the stain

So pound the floors as much as you want
Drag splinters from your drooling cavernous screams
Throw yourself away again and again
Cause I will never leave your mind,
Having sown myself into your dreams

I am what you think about
What you've sold every scrap of yourself for
But I am a fake, a mask, the satin covered machine
What you fear will reap your corrupted core.

You never knew that all I want
Is to take but never give
To ****** but never stay
The girl who steals your love to live
And buries it in your own decay

After every sumptuous feast,
We give a trill, a gauzy lilting stream
Notes lift our cool heads high
Poised waiting for the choking screams

And as we slide through fractured lives,
My monster and I
We ponder the day we'll wake in hell
Eagerly awaiting the reward for all our lies

For we're not scared of death or flames
Flickering bodies of damnation
Cause we know we’ll live forever
In those suffering from love starvation

--Lily

The biggest mistake I ever made
was missing the chance I didn't take.

The ground beneath my feet, I feel,
is moving slowly, sharpening steel.

The smallest sign was blind to my eyes,
and now my heart can feel its shrinking size.

The chance He made
I chose not to take
always was my biggest mistake.

My mind traces your every curve and valley,
yearning for adventure in new lands.
For though unexplored, I can see you fit
me as water in glass.
So why not rush into me, why evade?
Guiding is my specialty, but you writhe
as if in storm, with wind in current as I
grasp futilely at your crashing
waves,
beg for your ordering.
But so it goes,
again,
again,
until I see you have no waves, you weather no storm.
It is merely my eye-shard's trick,
reflected as I lay broken and shattered
about the kitchen floor.

The vivid colors,
Through my eyes,
I see.

They remind me of what’s
Meant to be.

If my life were lived blind of
Everything,

Then I suppose I’d only know of
What my other senses bring.

It’s a shame,
The amount of complaints
Each moment summons.

Especially when,
If I started counting my blessings
Right now,
I’d already be in the dozens.

Sometimes
The complexity of emptiness terrifies me.

Sometimes
I lose the will to prove myself.

Sometimes
Holding on feels more comforting than moving on.

Sometimes
Being cradled in the arms of confidence
Leaves me with legs too weak to stand, as a kind of consequence.

Too many times
I’ve found myself deep in a sea of gluttony
Drifting with the waves of privilege, luckily.

Too many times
I’ve put my pride before love
Setting others’ feelings aside, rather than above.

But without some of these times,
Life wouldn’t be worth all the climbs.
No steps to take above perfection
Always just walking in the same direction.

Slowly destroyed.
Put down.
Stood up.

Every day she tried
To better herself.
But, in the end,
It was easier
To shut out and hide.

She tried to appear bona-fide.
But where her life was going -
She felt it was up to others to decide.

It’s not that she always wanted to be lead.
It’s that, when she really needed it,
No one ever heard what she said.

But when given the chance to freely express
Herself with no limit,
All the judgments she’s ever heard
Seemed to push their way into the spotlight,
Now well-lit.

Crossing paths with others
Who have done great for themselves,
She thinks,
I wonder how it brought them here,
Their trip through hell…

She needs no reminders of where she could be.
A look in the mirror
Is all she needs to see.

Even the physical scars of the past
Are evidence of
Where all these moments,
Called life,
Have taken her;
Right up to the last.

Throw around words you never really learned.

Toss ideas into a dish best served raw.

Hope that those who take the time to give it a chance

are captivated.

But no one’s taste buds are the same.

Most, including the creator, never satisfied.

I present to you

Judgment

Growth

Knowledge

Life

I enjoy
The bliss in life.
The often unnoticed
Abyss of life.

The Touch-your-toes,
Now-head-and-shoulders,
Feather-in-your-hat,
Swo­rds-stuck-in-boulders
Sides of life.

Looking up
And out at the sky,
The cold wind
Greets my skin and my bones.
In the grass,
With you,
I lie…

Talking about how too many people
Live sheltered lives
And how they try and make us clones.

I put my hand on my chest,
And feel
My heart beat inside of me.
I close my eyes,
And no longer doubt,
I’m where I’m supposed to be.