Mask

Posted on by estlh

Over the years my self-confidence has waxed and waned many a time.  I am glad to say that with the psssage of time this has happened with less frequency and mostly decreasing extremes. As time goes by I am increasingly comfortable in my own skin and less focused on what others (may or may not) think of me. After all, I am who God made me to be and I seek to embrace my identity as one of His children. I am still very much a fan of wearing makeup, but I am no longer reliant on it as a mask that allows me to face the world. This poem is one that was written at a time when my self-confidence was definitely waning.


I am not myself today
I have come out without my face.
In all the rush of this morning it was
Overlooked.
At first I was happy in my ignorance.
All it took was one look.
The fleeting question in the eye of a
casual acquaintance
Told me all was not as it usually is.
As the realisation dawned I was horrified,
and bowed my head in shame.
I had allowed someone in.
Allowed someone to see the real me
in all it’s painful colours.
And yet for that momentary flicker
I would have gone about my day
uncowed by self judgment or derisory expectations.
So my feet are getting all my attention today
as I withdraw
to ignore
this beautiful life in which I play
a reluctant part

4.4.24

Posted on by estlh

Day four of the poetry prompt advent calendar and the prompt was “unseen presence”.

You are here
Beside me always.
I know you are with me
And though I may not see you
When I stop and breathe
I feel your presence.
When I lie quiet in the darkness
Your unseen arms enfold me
And I hear your whisper in my ear.

You are the peace I know in the midst of the chaos.
You are the beauty I find when all around is spoiled.
You are the hope I find when the darkness descends.
And when I feel ugly you remind me of my true beauty.

How sad that too often my eyes are blind to what you show
How sad that my ears sometimes close to your words of comfort
How sad that the petty distractions of the world oft obscure your truth
And when worried I often forget that your hands hold me

But still, I know that your patient love is mine forever
Your presence with me, though unseen, is eternal truth

3.12.24

Posted on by estlh

The prompt for today is ‘anticipation’

We await the day
When our certain hope becomes
A promise fulfilled

Our preparations
Build as we look to the day
of celebration

Anticipation
Fuels our frantic busyness
As the time draws close.

Frustrated we pray
Will we ever be ready
For the coming peace

2.12.24

Posted on by estlh

Day 2 of the poetry prompt advent and the prompt is patience.

The in-between
A time of malcontent
When what is no longer amiss
Is not yet as it should be
Patience does not come naturally
The grumbles burst forth unrestrained
By manners or propriety
And annoyed by my own agitation
My hackles strain skyward

Yet still you do not respond
My unanswered pleas for conclusion
Hang unrecognised between us
The strides we made in danger of being overlooked
When still our destination is not gained

All in good time my child, all in good time.

My petulant cry –
“Now is a good time”
Dies on my lips
As I finally meet your gaze
And am engulfed in the love within.

All in good time my love, all in good time

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 well

Posted on by estlh

A few years ago I wrote a poem about the women in the bible who encountered Jesus. In my poetry journal today the prompt was to write a poem from the point of view of someone in a well known story. I chose the woman at the well.

He saw me.
I had come alone to draw, unseen, unjudged, from the well.
He spoke to me
Asking for a drink from one he should have ignored
He told me
That I should never thirst again – he would make it so
He revealed to me
The truth of who he was and why he came
He knew me
He knew the very worst but did not shrink from me

When previously I had felt judgement,
here I met compassion
And for the first time I felt free.
I found truth,
I found purpose,
And I felt beautiful.

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.

 

Self Righteous

Posted on by estlh

Self righteous assemble and all take their place

Tilt heads and down long noses sneer at my face

As I play my part in their glorious disgrace

 

Self righteous assemble forgetting their climb

Scrambling up bodies o’er shoulders like mine

Their arrogance prohibits waiting in line

 

Self righteous assemble and spread far their lies

Others not like me were less in their eyes –

They told me against all I held dear they’d rise

 

Self righteous assemble to look again down

Along their stiff noses to where others drown

And worried their heads over who wore their crown

 

Self righteous assemble so keen to condemn

Those who would broadcast the truth about them

The outpour of difficult facts keen to stem.

 

So if you would stay off this slippery slope

And strike the deceit of misinforming tropes

Come take your place in discomfort and hope