First Time I have EVER shared

[annaide]

Please be kind people

I've been writing poetry for years, but I have never shared with anyone - ever. I've tried to but freeze up with fear at the very thought, so I'm being very brave here. (This is also the first time I've ever started a thread - I'm so daring today). I'm not so talented as many on this forum, but anyway...

I lost two people I love this year, my baby nephew Astoirin and of course, Michael and I wrote these for them:

Wake

My friend
walk in on the lapis blue.
The earth lies down in folds of silk,
the ripples wink a lightening trace
then shiver west in search of you.

Breathing

A well
weighs deep
on my chest, where
each time
I draw breath,
I feel a stone,
sink slow and alone -
a swollen bruise,
to the stratum
made of your name
in my heart.

Okay Annaide, you can do it - just take a deep breath and click "submit new thread". Eeek.

[hihipeeps]

You shouldn't be afraid! This is wonderful!

The second one, especially; where you wrote:

a swollen bruise

It's very emotive language. I really do love the second one. I love the first one but there's something about the second. I'm going to write it in my diary.

You're good. Post more! =)

[annaide]

Thank you hihipeeps - I really am very touched, that is so kind of you to tell me that and to encourage me - not even my own mother has ever seen them. My other pieces are not really about Michael but I guess you could interpret them in light of him. I wrote one, for example, about something which I think Michael calls "The Force" - at least he does at the start of Don't Stop Til You Get Enough. I didn't think of it as having any relation to anything or anyone else when I wrote it but in hindsight, I guess we may be talking about the same thing, although my expression of it is very different.

Wind in the Shore Trees (a temporary title only)

On the darkness
walking down
the face of the deep
and stalking round
eyelash shadows
that ribbon;
over and under your
pewter light.

Moon on the midnight
oil water
and lips of the deep
in skin and mortar
rolling on nothing's
naked cusp;
and breaks the husk
between my teeth -

and then alone at the shore of trees,
a wound where the tides turn over seeds
'til he burns cold and white
on my flesh, yes -
over and under your
pewter light.

[MJILOVEYOU]

You shouldn't be scared, these are wonderful, thank you for sharing. I really like how expressive you are with words for example when you said:
A well,
weighs deep
on my chest, where
each time
I draw breath,
I feel a stone,

Very beautiful ...

[hihipeeps]

It's almost abstract...there are a lot of different images that float around that create a wonderful, yet oddly disturbing picture. But don't be deterred - it's amazing it can do that. You should show your friends/family - I'm sure they'll love it just as much as me.

[annaide]

LOL. I think "oddly disturbing" is something that happens quite often when I write - don't worry about your reaction to it. I think what it is, is that I write from a point of feeling where it feels as though I might just fall off a cliff - not necessarily in a bad way, but I get in the space between the sure ground under my feet and that swimming feeling of being at a height and having the wind push me closer to the edge. In anycase, poetry is one of those things where the reader can take from it what they choose - feeling or thought-wise.

[annaide]

One Beat

Hope jewelled like sap
across my brow
to know a beauty like pain.
The mantra morphed,
words, burned to ash,
no easier for all the sky could rain.

Come, that soft sunlight,
one beat of your heart
at my window like lace.
Wait for pale morning,
first break of your touch
but my eyes meet white and lonely space.