December 1st

Posted on by estlh

So I found a poetry prompt advent calendar. Day 1’s prompt was simply ‘A candle’

The room is still
Save for the flickering light of the candle on the mantel
It’s orange cast dancing on the wall behind.
The persistent motion is mesmerising as she watches through the window
The light shed by the candle does not spread far,
Showing her barely more than the silhouette of the familiar old chair
His chair
In its rightful position by the hearth.
But the hearth is cold and empty.
Summoning her courage, she takes the few small steps to the door.
She pauses, sighs, hand on the handle before,
Resigned, she pushes it open.
The sudden chill that floods the room
Is all-encompassing
And the feeble flame is no match for it.
As the door shuts behind her
All is
Darkness

If only

Posted on by estlh

If only days were dreams
And all not as it seems
If only time would fly
The hours racing by
To bring you back to me, my love
From far across the sea, my love

If all the sky were blue
And all earth’s colours true
If all the stars were bright
To guide you through the night
And bring you back to me, my love
From far across the sea, my love


Now all the world is black
The clock needs turning back
Your final bed of wood
Carried all it could
And brought you back to me, my love
From far across the sea, my love

Beautiful Face

Posted on by estlh

Because I don’t know

I don’t know what to say

I don’t know what to do

I don’t know how to fix this.

I don’t know because

There is nothing I can say

There is nothing I can do

There is no way to fix this.

And so faith is my only option

Because I Do know

God Is Good

[Apologies for dodgy sound mix – recorded on my phone! 🙈]

Lord I call to you, I cry out to you
I don’t understand, I feel so helpless
There’s nothing I can do, so I give it all to you
I feel so small, but you are mighty.

And Lord, you’re glorious
In your great goodness, I trust.

Lord send your power, to move in this place
Flood the whole world with your glory and grace
Send your mercy, send your healing
Let the whole world see your beautiful face.
Your beautiful face.

Lord I call to you, I cry out to you
I don’t understand, but you know all things
And as my tears fall, and as my heart breaks
I turn to you, for you are healer.

And Lord, you’re glorious
In your great goodness, I trust.

Lord send your power, to move in this place
Flood the whole world with your glory and grace
Send your mercy, send your healing
Let the whole world see your beautiful face.
Your beautiful face.

And Lord, you’re glorious
In your great goodness, I trust.

Lord send your power, to move in this place
Flood the whole world with your glory and grace
Send your mercy, send your healing
Let the whole world see your beautiful face.
Your beautiful face.
Your beautiful face.

Three times

Posted on by estlh

Often I will have inspiration for just a few lines of a poem. I’ll write them down and come back to them at a later date to write the whole thing. A while ago I wrote the first Stanza of this, originally about a very different matter. However when I came back to it the poem has gone in a totally different direction. So here, very different to what I intended, is the finished poem.

The first time I said no I meant it
The second I wasn’t so sure
The third time I said no I knew that
I’d bend if you asked me once more

The first time I said yes I waivered
The second I felt that I must
The third time I knew I had no choice
To say no would lose me your trust

The first time I walked out I tested
The second I still wasn’t sure
The third time I walked out I knew that
I’d never walk back through that door

The first time I felt love he meant it
The second he meant it much more
The third time 1 felt love I knew that
I’d always be scared and unsure

The first time he promised I questioned
The second I silently wept
The third time he promised I knew that
Once more and 1 might just accept

The next time he promised he held me
In earnest looked straight in my eyes
Whatever wherever whenever
He’d always be right by my side

And that time I really believed it
For once more my heart was made whole
With him by my side I have risen
And reclaimed the me that you stole

At the end of the universe

Posted on by estlh

When people read poetry they interpret it in their own way. I know from comments made to me about my own poetry that if I write a poem about one thing, some people will read it as being about something else entirely. And that is fine. Like any art form, people view it through the lens of their own personal life experience and preferences; it means different things to each of us. That is one of the reasons that I often write a little intro to my poems on this blog – to explain a bit about what I was thinking or feeling when I wrote the poem. But sometimes I don’t want to share that much of myself, and sometimes I just want to throw a poem out there and see how it is interpreted without any hints from me. Today’s poem is not straight forward for me to explain so I’m just going to throw it out there. Comments are encouraged!

Weep with me for the forgotten boy who lies quiet at the end of the universe.

Exiled.

Expelled with such force that he can never find his way home.

And all for a misunderstanding that can never now be explained.

So instead he lies in quiet contemplation

of the injustice of existence.

Wishing he had at least done something worthy of eternal exclusion.

 

At the end of the universe all is clear.

He can look back at what could have been –

The sheer potential afforded to those who so oft neglect it

chasing after instancy instead.

Oh to be once again in the opportune abundance of those at the centre.

 

The tears deluged once, but that stream has now run dry

Futile waters washed away no part of his pain.

His resigned heart long torn in two.

Naive and trusting he yearned at the start for a vindication that never came

Reliant on the honesty of another with naught to gain from confession

and much to lose.

 

So alone he waits.

All angered out

self pity over

indulgent hope abandoned

Surrounded by stardust and cosmic redundancy

 

Weep with me for the forgotten boy who dies quiet at the end of the universe.

 

Secrets

Posted on by estlh

I generally don’t like keeping secrets. Thankfully most of the secrets I keep revolve around birthday presents, surprise parties and the like, so are short lived. They are also the good kind of secret, the kind that you want to tell because you know the reaction will be positive.

But sometimes the knowledge we keep hidden is heavy to bear and we want to lighten the load by sharing it. Much has been written about how keeping secrets can be bad for our health. Occasionally however, the secrets that we keep are not ours to share.

I wish you had not told me that
I did not want to know
But now that I possess the truth
I cannot let it go
My heart cried out ‘this cannot be,
It can’t, it must be lies
But from your face I knew at once –
I read it in your eyes

That scene now stuck in my mind’s eye
never to be erased,
Delivered to me such a shock
It left me feeling dazed
The Nightmare that now plagues my sleep
And interrupts my rest
Have been my night-time company
Since to me you confessed

And all the while the shame of it
That should be yours not mine
Now Haunts my every waking hour
As if by your design
You have made me your companion
In knowledge of this deed
And I can never now forget
I never will be freed

I would I could just run away
The dread of it to flee
But no matter where I go
The truth will follow me.
For all around is tainted now
My illusions undone
The world is a less pleasant place
Your cloud obscures my sun.

I would you had not shared with me
The burden that you bore
For now I find this secret binds
Us two, for evermore

Corner

Posted on by estlh

I am a dreamer. I dream often and regularly remember bits, if not all, of the fantastical tales and crazy adventures I have during slumber. The weird and wonderful worlds I inhabit whilst sleeping can be a rich source of inspiration for my writing whilst awake, and I keep a note book beside my bed to jot down anything I want to hold on to. Sometimes when I look back at them my night-time scribblings make no sense at all, but once in a while when I check my notebook I am amazed at the insight or poeticism I find there.

A few days ago I had an unusual dream, even for me. Instead of being in the dream, playing ny part, I was an observer. And as the scene played out before me it wasn’t live action it was a black and white cartoon, all rough drawn and jiggling. I can only remember a very small part of it but it was such a striking visual images that it inspired a poem.

I can see myself in the corner
In a small stark patch of light
All couched and folded inwards
In a world of black and white

The darkness that surrounds me
Is slowly pressing in
The fear of it constricts my chest
I feel it chill my skin

But flickering, and glorious
A white light comes to shine
And rages ‘gainst the darkness
In this corner small of mine

So sensing something easing
I dare to lift my head
And see the light expanding
And catch a glimpse of red

I can see me in the corner
In a growing patch of light
All couched, but less uncertain
In a world of colours bright.

Betrayal

Posted on by estlh

Sometimes I am quite deliberate in my poetry writing. Sometimes when I start to write a poem I start with just a phrase or couple of lines and have no idea where it is going to go. This was one of those poems, it wasn’t really until I reached the last verse that the pieces fell into place.

I took my lover to the sea
Where I made him beg to marry me
I grasped the heart he proffered me
And flung it hence into the sea.

I took my lover near the sky
And made him look into my eye
And swear to love me til he die
Then I did poke him in the eye

I took my lover atop the hill
And begged to know if he did still
Love me for sufficient thrill,
I threw my lover down the hill

I knew my lover was not true
And felt the sting of trust eschewed
I did what I had to do
To heal the heart he’d rent in two.

If

Posted on by estlh

After a good start to this year I got a bit distracted and didn’t write anything for a while. This week I suddenly seem to have found my mojo again. I have been writing lots. From odd lines that will eventually develop into full poems, to snippets and phrases I have just jotted down to insert in a future poem, to a rather random short story. They are mostly first drafts still and will need a bit of tweaking before I share them, except for the one I am sharing now. I was playing around with different poem structures and with increasing and decreasing syllables and this was the result.

If

If
Only
It were true
That which you say
Statements of great love
Pretence of devotion
The words by which you deceive
The lies that you exhale
Carry me away
On clouds of hope
But like rain
They soon
Fall