Once upon a December

Posted on by estlh

Yes, I know I’m a little late with posting this one, but it all got a bit busy in the run up to Christmas. The prompt for this poem was “Once upon a December…” Here is what I wrote

Once Upon a December night
The sky was dark but the stars were bright
I took your hand and gave a smile
we lost the whole world for a while
Once Upon a December night
A frosty cold December night

Once Upon a December Eve
As snowflakes settled on my sleeve
we danced beneath the sky, carefree
So cold but happy as could be
Once upon a December Eve
A happy cold December Eve

Once Upon a December morn
As choir’s sung of messiah born
You took my hand and asked of me
myself, while down on bended knee
Once upon a December morn
A happy bright December morn

Now upon this December day
While children wait to see the sleigh
You smile at them and pull me near
to breathe devotion in my ear
now upon this December day
This joyful bright December day

Stronger than I think

Posted on by estlh

You aspired to silence me;
To still my tongue
And prevent the telling of my tale.


For a while I acquiesced,
My passion gone,
Crushed by the demands of solitude.

I lay mute and diffident
And languished long
In lethargic denial of strength.


But do not think that you have won,
Have gained your end
And doused the fire that burns within me.


For though the embers grow dim
New breath brings life,
Reigniting flames that grow once more.


My voice will be heard again
Like none before
Bursting forth, my song will carry truth


To all who have hearts open to hear.

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

True Friend

Posted on by estlh

Everyone needs at least one true friend who can always speak the truth to them, good or bad. Who can tell them they’re making a mistake, either by doing something they shouldn’t or not doing something they really should. Of course it is entirely up to us whether we actually listen to our true friends! The “them” in this poem are definitely not friends!

They told me once to try again, I asked Them why I should
I liked what I had done this time, They said it was not good
I asked Them what was wrong with it I loved it done my way
But this was met with tutting and yet They wouldn’t say

So I refused to try again, proud of my first attempt
It came from a true, honest place - I questioned Their intent
But They would not accept my choice, They would not let it lie
They wailed and cried and pestered me to have another try.

Yet I feared if I gave in, that if I let Them win
A lifetime of enslavement and servitude would begin
For once they had the best of me would They then let it go?
Or tighten hence their grip on me? I really didn’t know

But something told me to beware, to not let Them dictate
Even the least of my designs I should myself create.
So I stood firm, dug in my heels, They turned away from me
No more acknowledging my work, pretending not to see.

And I, no more so self assured began to wonder now
Was the beauty in mine eye real or feigned somehow
As I began to doubt myself a true friend came along
And questioned why my tongue was stilled, he no more heard my song.

I am no good I told him, my confidence curtailed.
But he would speak the truth to me - my ego did avail
And so I paid Them no more heed, I ceased to play along
I showed the world what I had done, once more sang my own song

Now free once more to be myself, to plan and to create
I rose above Their tired attacks their nebulous dictates
And stronger now I found the wings I’d never known before
And from that true friends confidence up to the stars I soar

 

Listen to the kids

Posted on by estlh

When my children were small I had a notebook in which I would write down some of the cute things that they said. For example, the time my son asked “why do you have beard on your arms daddy?” or the time my daughter rolled her eyes back as far as she could and exclaimed in disappointment “I just can’t see my eyebrows!”. But as well as being entertaining some of the things they said were actually quite insightful and poignant. When someone recently shared a video of kids being asked what it meant to be kind, some of the answers were really quite profound. It got me thinking about how as we get older we sometimes make things unnecessarily complicated when to children they seem straightforward. Children see the world through very different eyes to adults. As adults we have been shaped and damaged by life experiences and although these are unique for each of us, we all have something of cynicism, prejudice and pain in the lens through which we view things. Children often speak with a refreshing honesty too, saying things we would be too embarrassed to say, and seeing straight to the heart of a situation when we may have to peel back layers of assumption and expectation to reach the same point. Maybe listening to what children have to say sometimes, can help remind us of what is really important.

I listened to a child today
She spoke with a wisdom that belied her years
And gifted me her insight.

I listened to a child today
She spoke with the reasoning of innocence
And opened my jaded eyes

I listened to a child today
She spoke with a compassion that shamed me
But filled me with such bright hope

I listened to a child today
She spoke of such wondrous possibilities
And made me pause and ponder

I listened to a child today
She showed me everything I could become
And gave me desire to fly

The Injustice in the Corner

Posted on by estlh

Inspired by a ‘ thought for the day’ that was shared at The Arches project last week, this just kind of flowed out in response.

The injustice in the corner
Is ever so small
I turn my back, don’t see it
Ignoring your call

The injustice in the corner
I do not wish to see
Though slowly growing larger
Does not yet bother me

The injustice in the corner
Is no longer small and faint
I have to now acknowledge it
To hear your complaint

The injustice in the room now
So clearly in my view
Can still be ignored if I
Close my eyes and ears to you

The injustice I must see now
I’ll stand and rail against
But words are feeble weapons
And my strikes make no offence

The injustice right before me
I try to reason away
But all that I’m achieving
Is a break, a slight delay

The injustice in my face now
Continues hour by hour
So I must wrestle with it
And try to staunch it’s power

It may seem overwhelming
But yet I’m not alone
The seeds of revolution
Have already been sown

And so we come together
Injustice to oppose
Our common purpose strengthens us
And hope for justice grows

Hope

Posted on by estlh

Today I am feeling hopeful. OK, so I still slept late and didn’t get much done, but I have coughed less and, joy of joy, CHOCOLATE TASTES LIKE CHOCOLATE AGAIN!!! My sense of taste has been restored, my sense of smell is improving and i can enjoy eating again! Funny how we take it for granted that things smell and taste, what a bland world it is without these senses.

This afternoon I have written poem number 2 for National Poetry Wrtiting Month.

Hope

There has always been hope
Though everything around may be crumbling
The storm clouds gathering to obscure the blues skies
And the very ground quaking beneath your feet
Hope prevails

There is always hope
Though fools may bring you down, refusing to listen to truth
Valuing opinion more than knowledge and understanding
Letting their instincts trump calm rational thought
Hope does prevail

There will always be hope
Though times of pain will come to us all
We will each take our turn to suffer in our individual way
Everyone of us living through darkest days
Hope still prevails

Just know this
There is always hope.