Again I Live and Die
World of shadows
Of now and then
Of before and the next
Gusts of weary air
And I stand again
Under the fragrant linden tree
White sweet bitter flowers
Falling on my hair
My mortal coil yet warm
Under lavender flowers
Is without memories
The I that knows, close my eyes
against the bright pure light
so familiar in unknown ground
picking flowers from walls
circles whispers of hopes
I hear the vague calls
Of lost siblings in the mists
Of past lovers gnashing revenge
Of soul-mate’s unfound
Lost in the whirls of living
Passed by unnoticed
While skies clad white to black
And back to azure again
In the circle of cycle
I travel on, back to life
To bow to death again
In love, in faith, in devotion
To live life to, lose once more
Bound on mysterious quests
As yet unknown nor ever revealed
But to abide by unquestioningly
In the meadow there I stand
Listening to thunder claps
From afar the screaming wind
Fly me to silent calm,
there be I born.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 10th May 2013 11:32pm
Autumn Symphony
the golden hues of leaves in fall
sparkles of dying on the trees
the beauty crowned with fluttery brown
clinging on to the toughest branch
rays of rosy hue the sun catches
flung on boughs that they may stay
to smile at dancing of the sprites
among the leaves, in its last glory
hamadryads in languid repose
wake to mourn the dying leafy tresses
yet knowing they will dance again
among the blossoms within the groves
faeries in glades continue to dance
to memories of sunny days and blooms passed
but darker shadows are arrived
mantles to the spirit of Fall
the sighs of breeze through the trees
shedding their beauty to the ground
standing stark among evergreens
with branches like anguished claws
warmth of the hearth embrace
call the beloved to their home
watching the last leaf of autumn
makes it way to the ground below
as the leaves cascade to the ground
burying all signs of spring
wishes for beyond the cold
made with the last leaf- fall
Fall is arriving in full glory
not far the winter will enter
in its majestic indifference
to what it covers, what it smothers
for the moment the dryads sit
under the shadows of the grooves
until the last day of fall
then they too shall repose.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Breaking
The heartbreak of never
knowing why
you left forever
Never knowing what
broke your heart
Never Knowing when
your love turn
to ashes in your mind
Never shall I know how
to bring you back
to this hour, this now
of needing and desire:
You just left.
knowing why
you left forever
Never knowing what
broke your heart
Never Knowing when
your love turn
to ashes in your mind
Never shall I know how
to bring you back
to this hour, this now
of needing and desire:
You just left.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 17th April 2012 6:46pm
Its Love Actually
A soulmate trapped in a circle of waiting
an empty fist
just keep holding on
promises made on thin air
sieves without end
No words spoken
yet strength of a liana
vice like grip
on the dying vine
never letting go
until fire turn to ember
its love actually
the fierce undying type
through thick and thin
and water run to forever
But you kept on Running
for your life
Ben.
* this poem was entered in a competition here. Thank you for reading*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 22nd May 2015 3:46am
Once there was You
Once there was you
with a face and a name
words in thoughts expressed
tattooed thunderously on falling rain
your thoughts were real
once there were footsteps
together imprinted on the sand
when the glass broke
drizzles from rainbows
blurred the trails
once there were promises
whispered in the wind
nothing changed
but the You had gone
disappearing in the mists
of empty dreams.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 16th September 2015 00:36am
with a face and a name
words in thoughts expressed
tattooed thunderously on falling rain
your thoughts were real
once there were footsteps
together imprinted on the sand
when the glass broke
drizzles from rainbows
blurred the trails
once there were promises
whispered in the wind
nothing changed
but the You had gone
disappearing in the mists
of empty dreams.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 16th September 2015 00:36am
Reminders
The cold dark night
The gushy belligerent wind
The star lit shore
The moon, shining silver
high in the sky
They remind me of
the warmth of a lover's embrace
the whispers of assurance
against dark loneliness
Or aloneness in a loveless night
The sunny dawn
Lighting up the mountain
The misty rain
Hugging sleepy hamlets
homes among hillocks
they remind me of home
of places where love abide
where children’s laughter
and innocence endure
promises of love true
The grassy meadow
Flowers strewn
The green woods
Twitters of birds
A hooting owl
Is a promise of when…
Is a word of whom…
Is a pledge of whose…
I will go home
To heart’s true bliss.
The gushy belligerent wind
The star lit shore
The moon, shining silver
high in the sky
They remind me of
the warmth of a lover's embrace
the whispers of assurance
against dark loneliness
Or aloneness in a loveless night
The sunny dawn
Lighting up the mountain
The misty rain
Hugging sleepy hamlets
homes among hillocks
they remind me of home
of places where love abide
where children’s laughter
and innocence endure
promises of love true
The grassy meadow
Flowers strewn
The green woods
Twitters of birds
A hooting owl
Is a promise of when…
Is a word of whom…
Is a pledge of whose…
I will go home
To heart’s true bliss.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Tripping Trolls on the Roll
donkeys were trip tripping over the bridge
while the trolls looked up and thought
why couldn't they be donkeys too
and start their own hullabaloo
oh they need to be heard
they need to be known
the trolls just trolling
under the bridge
so they climbed up to the bridge
and started their walk back and forth
and back and forth on the plank-way
they taunted the donkeys
who just brayed and ran away
the cows who just looked bored
horses that disdainfully kept away
the trolls they were mad
so they started to pout
and they started to spout
all manners of stories
sonnets and verses fit
for the King's court
the trolls they sang their hearts out
told of fantastical worlds
and mysterious universe
delighted, their audience listened
enthralled with the stories
they started to cheer hip hip hooray
for the trolls the fancy trolls
who copied the donkey's brays
and all the cows little moos
and the horses neighing splutters
were in a frenzy of ideas
but after replays of a hundred and ten
tunes and verses again and again
the audience walked away
to adore altars of other orators
the cats, and dogs, the monkeys
crocodiles and kangaroos, they left
the trolls sputtered in anger on empty air
and slunk back to their grey domain
songs sad and lonely are still heard
from their home under the bridge
a repetition of pretty and fancy verses
but then they might be back one day
to dance their jig and recite their tales
to a happy adoring audience
...the tripping trolls.
(inspired by the Three Billy Goats Gruff-Hans Christian Anderson)
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 23rd September 2014 10:26pm
while the trolls looked up and thought
why couldn't they be donkeys too
and start their own hullabaloo
oh they need to be heard
they need to be known
the trolls just trolling
under the bridge
so they climbed up to the bridge
and started their walk back and forth
and back and forth on the plank-way
they taunted the donkeys
who just brayed and ran away
the cows who just looked bored
horses that disdainfully kept away
the trolls they were mad
so they started to pout
and they started to spout
all manners of stories
sonnets and verses fit
for the King's court
the trolls they sang their hearts out
told of fantastical worlds
and mysterious universe
delighted, their audience listened
enthralled with the stories
they started to cheer hip hip hooray
for the trolls the fancy trolls
who copied the donkey's brays
and all the cows little moos
and the horses neighing splutters
were in a frenzy of ideas
but after replays of a hundred and ten
tunes and verses again and again
the audience walked away
to adore altars of other orators
the cats, and dogs, the monkeys
crocodiles and kangaroos, they left
the trolls sputtered in anger on empty air
and slunk back to their grey domain
songs sad and lonely are still heard
from their home under the bridge
a repetition of pretty and fancy verses
but then they might be back one day
to dance their jig and recite their tales
to a happy adoring audience
...the tripping trolls.
(inspired by the Three Billy Goats Gruff-Hans Christian Anderson)
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 23rd September 2014 10:26pm
True Friendship
A friendship known
forever bound
with stories told
to each other
never known to all
Friendship forged
through sorrow
and hardships
never forgotten
between true friends
on the dying bed
friends hold hands
saying farewell
with tears
to pledge, we will meet again.
forever bound
with stories told
to each other
never known to all
Friendship forged
through sorrow
and hardships
never forgotten
between true friends
on the dying bed
friends hold hands
saying farewell
with tears
to pledge, we will meet again.
Published 30th November 2013 3:05pm
* Reflections of my Mind
there is a warrior in the mirror
looking back at me, smiling
her arms akimbo, always ready
her sword sheathed on her waist
there is a woman there standing
tall and fearless against the world
with the scars of many battles
on her lined but regal face
there is a veteran of war
with a crown of greying hair
on her head, a face of experience
scales of justice as her shield
It is I
with Grace
to fight and survive
another day.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 15th July 2015 00:02am
looking back at me, smiling
her arms akimbo, always ready
her sword sheathed on her waist
there is a woman there standing
tall and fearless against the world
with the scars of many battles
on her lined but regal face
there is a veteran of war
with a crown of greying hair
on her head, a face of experience
scales of justice as her shield
It is I
with Grace
to fight and survive
another day.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 15th July 2015 00:02am
*Heart and Soul
they run parallel in the mist of time
one in another world the other in this one
they seek each other in different realms
they seek to reunite as seers has it
the cycle of circles they traverse
never finding each other on time
a boom, a flash one is reborn
while the other sway unto death
Heart bleeds for her beloved
trapped in time with another
not yet hers yet belonged together
deaf to her calls he tarries
Soul finds his beloved untrue
remembers a time of true love
in the arms of his Heart
now lost in the circle of cycles
they run together parallel again
Heart in distress listening for him
lost in the fields of forgetfulness
Soul dances with Father Time
Wandering Heart is seeking still
running for the Gypsy Soul
lost in time, in birth and death
forever seeking never meeting.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. Thank you for reading.*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
one in another world the other in this one
they seek each other in different realms
they seek to reunite as seers has it
the cycle of circles they traverse
never finding each other on time
a boom, a flash one is reborn
while the other sway unto death
Heart bleeds for her beloved
trapped in time with another
not yet hers yet belonged together
deaf to her calls he tarries
Soul finds his beloved untrue
remembers a time of true love
in the arms of his Heart
now lost in the circle of cycles
they run together parallel again
Heart in distress listening for him
lost in the fields of forgetfulness
Soul dances with Father Time
Wandering Heart is seeking still
running for the Gypsy Soul
lost in time, in birth and death
forever seeking never meeting.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. Thank you for reading.*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 16th November 2014 8:00pm
*Lest we Forget
Silent shadows filing up the tropical mountains
Forced death march by the conqueror
God turned away from his children
Who fought and killed for dominance of His creations
In a land other than their own
Full blasts, angry greedy minds of puny leaders
the winds from the mighty six
words written on parchment
gentle calligraphy Suzuki’s dragons
the winds of war rages over the sea
swords forgetting the laws of Bushido
now ground the meek, force the inhabitants
to bow to their mighty civilisation,
the proud Flag of the Rising Sun flew
they seeded the skies with death
destruction over Borneo, over the Pinoys
over the Sulus, the kings of the seas
the sea dwellers, the seafarers
the tribal hill warriors
the graceful plains people
the worshippers of the emperor
who reigned under bright peace
enlightened harmony, Shōwa
awoke the sky with man-made lightning
The ground shook with thunder
The innocent lost their loved ones
lost their innocence
Hell's gate opened, paradise lost,
fruits of rape, pillage and plunder
on sombre ground planted
Of mindless acts urged by lust
hate and anger
The Islanders know still
We will always remember.
Forced death march by the conqueror
God turned away from his children
Who fought and killed for dominance of His creations
In a land other than their own
Full blasts, angry greedy minds of puny leaders
the winds from the mighty six
words written on parchment
gentle calligraphy Suzuki’s dragons
the winds of war rages over the sea
swords forgetting the laws of Bushido
now ground the meek, force the inhabitants
to bow to their mighty civilisation,
the proud Flag of the Rising Sun flew
they seeded the skies with death
destruction over Borneo, over the Pinoys
over the Sulus, the kings of the seas
the sea dwellers, the seafarers
the tribal hill warriors
the graceful plains people
the worshippers of the emperor
who reigned under bright peace
enlightened harmony, Shōwa
awoke the sky with man-made lightning
The ground shook with thunder
The innocent lost their loved ones
lost their innocence
Hell's gate opened, paradise lost,
fruits of rape, pillage and plunder
on sombre ground planted
Of mindless acts urged by lust
hate and anger
The Islanders know still
We will always remember.
Published 7th August 2014 00:18am
- Last modified 7th August 2014 10:14am
*Love and Hate
the shine in eyes that love
uninhibited and truth that shows
each blink a message of desire
each smile a need for kisses
love the touch of fingers' caress
thus the beginning is full of hearts
full of words so soulful
full of loving and giving
tangled limbs start and end unknown
until the fire singes the spirit
deeper need want complete subjugation
no breath to breathe no secrets unknown
settled dusts of trusts stir
green eyes wake to distrust
when inched away the body
that echo the cymbals
of alarm...leaving now?
distrust followed by suspicion
dislike to hate
the acid in the vinegar
feel free the spirit roams
love shackles break
hate is now a bed
to sleep on just so
not to feel again
the prison of love...
hate is the key
out.
uninhibited and truth that shows
each blink a message of desire
each smile a need for kisses
love the touch of fingers' caress
thus the beginning is full of hearts
full of words so soulful
full of loving and giving
tangled limbs start and end unknown
until the fire singes the spirit
deeper need want complete subjugation
no breath to breathe no secrets unknown
settled dusts of trusts stir
green eyes wake to distrust
when inched away the body
that echo the cymbals
of alarm...leaving now?
distrust followed by suspicion
dislike to hate
the acid in the vinegar
feel free the spirit roams
love shackles break
hate is now a bed
to sleep on just so
not to feel again
the prison of love...
hate is the key
out.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 11th August 2015 4:19pm
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 22nd October 2014 11:30pm
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 20th September 2013 7:33pm
A brief union
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 12th December 2011 4:50pm
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 11th August 2015 4:19pm
*Loving You
Loving you was beautiful
your words soothing caresses
upon my mind and heart
you carried me over galaxies
of adventures within myself
finding out the desires embedded
within waiting to awake
over the threshold of desires
flame ablazed blooming and bursting
engulfing us in its entirety
a bonfire of loving lusts
reaching into the skies
burning everything on the way
it was us within the pyre
The blindness caught up with us
the bonfire finally turn to mere flickers
in feeding each other we forgot
the cracks and the scars
inflicted by our greed
scatches and abrasions of selfishness
personality clashed and differences collided
Lies applied to smoothen cracks
Lies told to balm the hurts
love couldn't go any deeper
than scrabbling carnal desire
nights filled with desperate couplings
didn't erase the days' indifference
Humpty Dumpty crashed down the wall
a cool morning on a Monday
it was a silent goodbye
you didn't say a word
nothing left to say
A new beginning
for me I didn't know
where to start again.
your words soothing caresses
upon my mind and heart
you carried me over galaxies
of adventures within myself
finding out the desires embedded
within waiting to awake
over the threshold of desires
flame ablazed blooming and bursting
engulfing us in its entirety
a bonfire of loving lusts
reaching into the skies
burning everything on the way
it was us within the pyre
The blindness caught up with us
the bonfire finally turn to mere flickers
in feeding each other we forgot
the cracks and the scars
inflicted by our greed
scatches and abrasions of selfishness
personality clashed and differences collided
Lies applied to smoothen cracks
Lies told to balm the hurts
love couldn't go any deeper
than scrabbling carnal desire
nights filled with desperate couplings
didn't erase the days' indifference
Humpty Dumpty crashed down the wall
a cool morning on a Monday
it was a silent goodbye
you didn't say a word
nothing left to say
A new beginning
for me I didn't know
where to start again.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. Thank you for reading.*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 5th November 2014 11:38am
A Bit of Nowhere
Commemorative meal for a date
long ago when before midnight
a lusty lung filled with air
and screamed a wail into the world
a girl again five of them now
two died and this one would live
most time wishing she would cease
to exist or be another real piglet
She dreamed of lands faraway
where mothers hugged and fathers
smiled, no fists shown or thrown
She prayed to sprout wings
Today I wished for candles
to blow and make my wish come true
a midday meal with those uncaring
just another day nothing special
Tonight at the close of day
upon my bed I do recline
another year through which I lived
to another year I hope to travel
Happy birthday little Grace
of long ago
I wish I could hug you
and say we will be alright.
long ago when before midnight
a lusty lung filled with air
and screamed a wail into the world
a girl again five of them now
two died and this one would live
most time wishing she would cease
to exist or be another real piglet
She dreamed of lands faraway
where mothers hugged and fathers
smiled, no fists shown or thrown
She prayed to sprout wings
Today I wished for candles
to blow and make my wish come true
a midday meal with those uncaring
just another day nothing special
Tonight at the close of day
upon my bed I do recline
another year through which I lived
to another year I hope to travel
Happy birthday little Grace
of long ago
I wish I could hug you
and say we will be alright.
Published 22nd October 2014 11:30pm
A Blessing
Hear ye, o’soughing spirits of the winds
Hear ye, o’ blessed ones
The spring of love is nigh
The offspring of souls
From the realm of then
To now a child to be born of them
Strength of thine bestow this child
Hear ye, o’ light of morn
Hear ye, o’ brightness of the dawn
Bestow this child a beauty born
of love and life in all its shine
Leave not darkness un-overthrown
Let fairness be on his countenance
Beauty shine and beauty borne
Hear ye, o’ spirit of eventide
Hear ye, o’ spirit of the night
Let nothing give this child the fright
Of darkness gloom and foul sight
Let him thrive in all airs
Be it day or darkest dusk
In all ills he will fight
Bestow, o’ spirits of all there is
Beauty and courage
Kindness and Love
Health and strength
To bestow his parents
With pride and joyfulness
Bless this child.
Hear ye, o’ blessed ones
The spring of love is nigh
The offspring of souls
From the realm of then
To now a child to be born of them
Strength of thine bestow this child
Hear ye, o’ light of morn
Hear ye, o’ brightness of the dawn
Bestow this child a beauty born
of love and life in all its shine
Leave not darkness un-overthrown
Let fairness be on his countenance
Beauty shine and beauty borne
Hear ye, o’ spirit of eventide
Hear ye, o’ spirit of the night
Let nothing give this child the fright
Of darkness gloom and foul sight
Let him thrive in all airs
Be it day or darkest dusk
In all ills he will fight
Bestow, o’ spirits of all there is
Beauty and courage
Kindness and Love
Health and strength
To bestow his parents
With pride and joyfulness
Bless this child.
*This blessing is for Miki and Paul's baby. Congratulations guys!!*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 18th September 2012 9:34am
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 18th September 2012 9:34am
A Bout of Melancholy
There is a vague timeline
In this earthly transition
looking at the ticking clock
counting the seconds
Am I that afraid of the darkness
Of an unknown beyond
Well, nothing promised nothing gained
I look into the mirror
Where beauty once resided
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
they say but no, not this decline
forever is just a word
Nobody have returned and told
where forever resides
So do I wait for death
Or expect the unexpected
Things happen for a reason
So they say…
but not aging pain and demise
or is it?
I refuse to seep in melancholy
So let me think positively
A good beginning
makes a good ending
may not apply to me
the beginning was terrible
the same ending…
o help me Lord!
Better to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved at all
that’s positive
lost my love to lost love
His not mine
She returned…..
Positive indeed.
I give up
Tick Tock
I’m counting
Definitely not sheep.
In this earthly transition
looking at the ticking clock
counting the seconds
Am I that afraid of the darkness
Of an unknown beyond
Well, nothing promised nothing gained
I look into the mirror
Where beauty once resided
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
they say but no, not this decline
forever is just a word
Nobody have returned and told
where forever resides
So do I wait for death
Or expect the unexpected
Things happen for a reason
So they say…
but not aging pain and demise
or is it?
I refuse to seep in melancholy
So let me think positively
A good beginning
makes a good ending
may not apply to me
the beginning was terrible
the same ending…
o help me Lord!
Better to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved at all
that’s positive
lost my love to lost love
His not mine
She returned…..
Positive indeed.
I give up
Tick Tock
I’m counting
Definitely not sheep.
Published 20th September 2013 7:33pm
A Brief Madness
A hobo his head in the trash
looking for tidbits
snuffling down discards
from a nearby cafe
looking up and smiling toothlessly
Yellowish eyes crusted
smelling like a dumpster
shivering like a wet cat
For a brief moment
I saw a machete through his head
smashing the ugliness
in bits of bones and brain
A club smashing his twisted body
beating his gangrenous flesh
into the dirt where it belonged
stamping on it with glee
I stared at him and flinched
as he spoke in a gravelly whisper
not all you see are what they are
beauteous countenance can hide most evil
The hobo walked away
holding a half eaten burger
a tinkling bell sounded
briefly, and I knew he knew
my brief madness
visiting angels
often do.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 10th October 2014 9:13am
- Last modified 10th October 2014 9:24am
looking for tidbits
snuffling down discards
from a nearby cafe
looking up and smiling toothlessly
Yellowish eyes crusted
smelling like a dumpster
shivering like a wet cat
For a brief moment
I saw a machete through his head
smashing the ugliness
in bits of bones and brain
A club smashing his twisted body
beating his gangrenous flesh
into the dirt where it belonged
stamping on it with glee
I stared at him and flinched
as he spoke in a gravelly whisper
not all you see are what they are
beauteous countenance can hide most evil
The hobo walked away
holding a half eaten burger
a tinkling bell sounded
briefly, and I knew he knew
my brief madness
visiting angels
often do.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 10th October 2014 9:13am
- Last modified 10th October 2014 9:24am
A brief union
The day you came home
My love, hands entwined
Looking deep each other's eyes
Knowing deep passions and desire
Among the flowers we stand
I unbound myself from the world
The trees shrouding us from them
The day you came home
I unbound myself from contraints
The sea came to the mountain
The wind blew a symphony
of love and sweet belonging
To each other we entwine our soul
in one, through the joining of our bodies
Eve came home to Adam
At the threshold of Eden
lighted by the moon and stars
Breathes met and coalesced
midair like a promise of forever
The wholeness began from my heart
and set within me
Lending a blush to a tired rose
Among the dewy grass I lay me down
with you in my arms
You became mine again among the roses
Your claimed my body and soul
and lavish upon me ecstasy
Bringing me up to the heavens
and down again like fluttering confetti
You charm my soul
The day I came home
to you my love was the day
I said goodbye
To them for I have chosen you
As my home, my love
I followed you through the portal
to a rebirth, a death, an eternity
Until we return.
My love, hands entwined
Looking deep each other's eyes
Knowing deep passions and desire
Among the flowers we stand
I unbound myself from the world
The trees shrouding us from them
The day you came home
I unbound myself from contraints
The sea came to the mountain
The wind blew a symphony
of love and sweet belonging
To each other we entwine our soul
in one, through the joining of our bodies
Eve came home to Adam
At the threshold of Eden
lighted by the moon and stars
Breathes met and coalesced
midair like a promise of forever
The wholeness began from my heart
and set within me
Lending a blush to a tired rose
Among the dewy grass I lay me down
with you in my arms
You became mine again among the roses
Your claimed my body and soul
and lavish upon me ecstasy
Bringing me up to the heavens
and down again like fluttering confetti
You charm my soul
The day I came home
to you my love was the day
I said goodbye
To them for I have chosen you
As my home, my love
I followed you through the portal
to a rebirth, a death, an eternity
Until we return.
Published 12th December 2011 4:50pm
A broken child
he will beat her today
he will slap her face again
opening the old cuts
that has bled again and again
I confess father
I stole the banana
I was hungry father
You took my supper away last night
cos I wet my panties again
but when you shout I do that
don't beat me too hard
it's only been two days
since the previous hitting
forgive my rumbling stomach
But I only took one
she turns her back
and thought of comfort
in her mother's tummy
as he takes up her four year old body
and throws her against the wall.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 17th December 2015 7:57am
A Child of Pain: Part 1
The cold and sterile atmosphere in the hospital ward was impersonal and did not do anything to comfort Elisha. She sat by the bed where her best friend rested, so still. Her best friend was also her grandmother whom she called Grammie Willie.
Elisha stared at her grandmother’s still placid face for the longest time and her memory flashed down memory lane to more than 30 years ago. She was then five years old. Her mother Tiffany was holding her hands and literally dragging her down the lane towards her mother’s house.
Elisha had been too weak and small, and allowed her mother to drag her, whimpering as she was hungry, hurting and tired. Her weak protestation had been met with a slap and a scream of Shut Up!!
Her mother in bellbottom pants, high heeled platform shoes and a flowery halter top with her long curly black hair was as beautiful as an angel. She was once a kind and angelic figure in Elisha’s life, but drugs alcohol and debauched men had transformed her into a snarling glaring witch.
Tiffany had lost her job several months ago that day, as a receptionist in a hotel. She had been absent too many times and her friends who had stood up for her had given up. The management had caught up on her many absent days, her slack attitude and rudeness to hotel guests, and gave her a warning letter. That did not deter her, and she blatantly went against rules, smoking at the front desk and being drunk on duty. Those of course did not endear her to the bosses and one fine day she got her termination letter with a three months’ salary compensation, which was kind actually. Tiffany had gone home that day and thrashed the house in her rage. Elisha saw that side of her then and knew that her life as a loved child was over. She wished she had a father, but she never knew one as she was a ‘love’ child. The result of her mother’s union with the flower children…any man…it was free love after all. After that incident their life went down to the pits, there were long instances when there was no food, and long instances when her mother disappeared and Elisha had to climb up to the shelves to eat anything in boxes including cereals and biscuits. She found some powdered stuff one day and in trying to get it made it spill to the floor instead. It did not look like food so she left it there. When her mother came home a day later, looking almost sober, she saw the mess and went into a rage so fierce and ugly that Elisha ran out of the house and hid among the plants. Her mother found her of course and grabbed her in, and slapped her around. She did not know how long her abuse went or her screaming, but soon she lost her voice and went silent, just feeling the whack and smack on her small body. As she sat there against the wall, numbed she heard the door bell and a voice and then her mother’s voice. It seemed to be an argument. And then the door slammed, and Elisha was scooped up by her mother and brought out of the house. She was thrown into the back seat of the car and then the long drive began. Through the drive, her mother smoked and berated her, calling her a whore-child, a bad luck blob, a specimen of the devil. Elisha just kept quiet. She thought that she must indeed be bad for being called such and being beaten to an inch of her life.
An hour later, her mother pulled up along the road, and started crying. Her tears were cascades that got through wracking sobs, and low wails. Her head on the steering wheel, she shuddered through her tears. Elisha looked on in horror. After a while, her mother composed herself and drove on. They reached her Grandmother’s house in the country late in the evening, and that was the first time Elisha set eyes on her mother’s mother. She could not believe her eyes as they looked like twins.
Her grandmother had the same long black curly hair, the slim body and deep penetrating eyes. She however looked kind and warm.
The two women had looked at each other for the longest time, and Elisha had expected them to embrace, but that never happened. Tiffany had just pushed her towards the older woman, Wilhelmina, and said ‘Take this whore-child…” and then she walked away.
Wilhelmina or Grammie Willie to Elisha later, took the thin dirty child into her arms and hugged her for the longest time.
Elisha felt the tears in her eyes as she jolted back from Memory Lane; her Grammie moved one of her hands and she held it tenderly.
“I owe you so much Grammie…” she whispered.
Elisha stared at her grandmother’s still placid face for the longest time and her memory flashed down memory lane to more than 30 years ago. She was then five years old. Her mother Tiffany was holding her hands and literally dragging her down the lane towards her mother’s house.
Elisha had been too weak and small, and allowed her mother to drag her, whimpering as she was hungry, hurting and tired. Her weak protestation had been met with a slap and a scream of Shut Up!!
Her mother in bellbottom pants, high heeled platform shoes and a flowery halter top with her long curly black hair was as beautiful as an angel. She was once a kind and angelic figure in Elisha’s life, but drugs alcohol and debauched men had transformed her into a snarling glaring witch.
Tiffany had lost her job several months ago that day, as a receptionist in a hotel. She had been absent too many times and her friends who had stood up for her had given up. The management had caught up on her many absent days, her slack attitude and rudeness to hotel guests, and gave her a warning letter. That did not deter her, and she blatantly went against rules, smoking at the front desk and being drunk on duty. Those of course did not endear her to the bosses and one fine day she got her termination letter with a three months’ salary compensation, which was kind actually. Tiffany had gone home that day and thrashed the house in her rage. Elisha saw that side of her then and knew that her life as a loved child was over. She wished she had a father, but she never knew one as she was a ‘love’ child. The result of her mother’s union with the flower children…any man…it was free love after all. After that incident their life went down to the pits, there were long instances when there was no food, and long instances when her mother disappeared and Elisha had to climb up to the shelves to eat anything in boxes including cereals and biscuits. She found some powdered stuff one day and in trying to get it made it spill to the floor instead. It did not look like food so she left it there. When her mother came home a day later, looking almost sober, she saw the mess and went into a rage so fierce and ugly that Elisha ran out of the house and hid among the plants. Her mother found her of course and grabbed her in, and slapped her around. She did not know how long her abuse went or her screaming, but soon she lost her voice and went silent, just feeling the whack and smack on her small body. As she sat there against the wall, numbed she heard the door bell and a voice and then her mother’s voice. It seemed to be an argument. And then the door slammed, and Elisha was scooped up by her mother and brought out of the house. She was thrown into the back seat of the car and then the long drive began. Through the drive, her mother smoked and berated her, calling her a whore-child, a bad luck blob, a specimen of the devil. Elisha just kept quiet. She thought that she must indeed be bad for being called such and being beaten to an inch of her life.
An hour later, her mother pulled up along the road, and started crying. Her tears were cascades that got through wracking sobs, and low wails. Her head on the steering wheel, she shuddered through her tears. Elisha looked on in horror. After a while, her mother composed herself and drove on. They reached her Grandmother’s house in the country late in the evening, and that was the first time Elisha set eyes on her mother’s mother. She could not believe her eyes as they looked like twins.
Her grandmother had the same long black curly hair, the slim body and deep penetrating eyes. She however looked kind and warm.
The two women had looked at each other for the longest time, and Elisha had expected them to embrace, but that never happened. Tiffany had just pushed her towards the older woman, Wilhelmina, and said ‘Take this whore-child…” and then she walked away.
Wilhelmina or Grammie Willie to Elisha later, took the thin dirty child into her arms and hugged her for the longest time.
Elisha felt the tears in her eyes as she jolted back from Memory Lane; her Grammie moved one of her hands and she held it tenderly.
“I owe you so much Grammie…” she whispered.
A Child of Pain: Part 2
The ward was silent, except for the constant bleep of the EKG monitor.
Her grandmother moved her head a little but she did not open her eyes. The tube going into her nose and an IV on her arm, made her looks like a grotesque scientific experiment. Elisha stared at her face, so worn and lined now and recalled how brilliantly beautiful she used to be.
On the pavement of her house so long ago, Elisha remembered again how she trembled as her grandmother embraced her. She had clung to the older woman who hushed her and rocked her in her arms. She felt a sense of coming home then. The days ahead were spent with her grandmother in quietness, there were no screams or shouts, and there were no loud noises. The house where her grandmother lived in was surrounded by tall trees, and an orchard. There were flowers and vegetables thriving side by side around the house. There were also a few free ranged chicken and ducks running around. The pond at the far end of the garden was always occupied by ducks. Elisha learned the real sense of tranquillity. Any normal child would have hankered for television but she only wanted peace quiet and love. She missed her mother every day, the way they were, laughter and bedtime stories, but she also learned to love her Grammie Willie. She was different somehow, strong and active.
After a couple of month, Grammie had enrolled her in a kindergarten. This was also new to her as she never had any schooling. She did not know how to read or spell. Going to the school was interesting and to Elisha it was also enjoyable. She met so many girls her own age that she could relate to and talk to.
She soon had a best friend named of Sheena, whom she sat with and chat to everyday. Elisha was so happy. She would come home every day and tell her Grammie about Sheena and how the other girl had a big farm house and that her parents owned more livestock than Grammie. The elderly woman had smiled and asked the little girl if that bothered her. Elisha in her happiness had hugged her Grammie and said that she loved Grammie, and the house and the pond and the fish and the ducks…and she named all the animals around her, that the older woman laughed, swung her around and made her pick tomatoes for dinner. It was indeed the happiest moment of Elisha’s life.
On her sixth birthday, her Grammie had organised a small party for her and six other little girls. She had placed a table cloth on a huge tree stump that adorned her garden, and served the boisterous girls lemonade and orange juice, cookies and cupcakes as well as a chocolate cake that she baked herself. The children sang Happy Birthday and stood around in delight as the birthday girl blew out the candle, and cut the cake. Soon after they were filled with cakes, cookies and fruits; the happy group ran around playing chase and pin the tail on the donkey. Elisha had a blast.
Later that Sunday afternoon, when the young guests have been fetched by their parents, Elisha snuggled with her Grammie on the chair-swing.
“Thank you so much for my birthday Grammie….so much!” she had whispered, her eyes closing as sleep took over. She felt her Grammie’s arms tightened against her and all was well in the world.
It was a sudden movement that woke Elisha up, her Grammie had stood up and she felt it. She held on tighter, her eyes still closed in sleepiness.
And then she was cruelly wrenched from her Grammie’s arms. Her eyes fluttered open and in horror saw that she was held by her mother, who was holding out a knife at her Grammie.
“What are you doing, Tiffany?” Grammie screamed.
“I want money, Willie…I want you to pay me for her…!” her mother screamed back.
“But you brought her to me…and after all those months….” Grammie stammered.
“I don’t care Willie…I don’t care! I just want the money. I don’t care…I could bring her and strangle her and throw her somewhere…but I believe you love this whore-child….so if you do, give me the money…or I will just break her neck right here and now….!” The younger woman said.
“Ooooh Fannie, please. Come home, I will take care of you. I know you lost your home and job, but you will be alright. Come home, Fannie, I will take care of you…you can get cleaned up and get a job…we will be together, all of us. It will be like old time….okay?” Willie said, gently.
“What makes you think that I want to be with you, or even want this little cunt eh? You stupid dyke!” Elisha screamed.
There was utter silence. Nothing stirred. Elisha felt the ground came up to meet her.
Her grandmother moved her head a little but she did not open her eyes. The tube going into her nose and an IV on her arm, made her looks like a grotesque scientific experiment. Elisha stared at her face, so worn and lined now and recalled how brilliantly beautiful she used to be.
On the pavement of her house so long ago, Elisha remembered again how she trembled as her grandmother embraced her. She had clung to the older woman who hushed her and rocked her in her arms. She felt a sense of coming home then. The days ahead were spent with her grandmother in quietness, there were no screams or shouts, and there were no loud noises. The house where her grandmother lived in was surrounded by tall trees, and an orchard. There were flowers and vegetables thriving side by side around the house. There were also a few free ranged chicken and ducks running around. The pond at the far end of the garden was always occupied by ducks. Elisha learned the real sense of tranquillity. Any normal child would have hankered for television but she only wanted peace quiet and love. She missed her mother every day, the way they were, laughter and bedtime stories, but she also learned to love her Grammie Willie. She was different somehow, strong and active.
After a couple of month, Grammie had enrolled her in a kindergarten. This was also new to her as she never had any schooling. She did not know how to read or spell. Going to the school was interesting and to Elisha it was also enjoyable. She met so many girls her own age that she could relate to and talk to.
She soon had a best friend named of Sheena, whom she sat with and chat to everyday. Elisha was so happy. She would come home every day and tell her Grammie about Sheena and how the other girl had a big farm house and that her parents owned more livestock than Grammie. The elderly woman had smiled and asked the little girl if that bothered her. Elisha in her happiness had hugged her Grammie and said that she loved Grammie, and the house and the pond and the fish and the ducks…and she named all the animals around her, that the older woman laughed, swung her around and made her pick tomatoes for dinner. It was indeed the happiest moment of Elisha’s life.
On her sixth birthday, her Grammie had organised a small party for her and six other little girls. She had placed a table cloth on a huge tree stump that adorned her garden, and served the boisterous girls lemonade and orange juice, cookies and cupcakes as well as a chocolate cake that she baked herself. The children sang Happy Birthday and stood around in delight as the birthday girl blew out the candle, and cut the cake. Soon after they were filled with cakes, cookies and fruits; the happy group ran around playing chase and pin the tail on the donkey. Elisha had a blast.
Later that Sunday afternoon, when the young guests have been fetched by their parents, Elisha snuggled with her Grammie on the chair-swing.
“Thank you so much for my birthday Grammie….so much!” she had whispered, her eyes closing as sleep took over. She felt her Grammie’s arms tightened against her and all was well in the world.
It was a sudden movement that woke Elisha up, her Grammie had stood up and she felt it. She held on tighter, her eyes still closed in sleepiness.
And then she was cruelly wrenched from her Grammie’s arms. Her eyes fluttered open and in horror saw that she was held by her mother, who was holding out a knife at her Grammie.
“What are you doing, Tiffany?” Grammie screamed.
“I want money, Willie…I want you to pay me for her…!” her mother screamed back.
“But you brought her to me…and after all those months….” Grammie stammered.
“I don’t care Willie…I don’t care! I just want the money. I don’t care…I could bring her and strangle her and throw her somewhere…but I believe you love this whore-child….so if you do, give me the money…or I will just break her neck right here and now….!” The younger woman said.
“Ooooh Fannie, please. Come home, I will take care of you. I know you lost your home and job, but you will be alright. Come home, Fannie, I will take care of you…you can get cleaned up and get a job…we will be together, all of us. It will be like old time….okay?” Willie said, gently.
“What makes you think that I want to be with you, or even want this little cunt eh? You stupid dyke!” Elisha screamed.
There was utter silence. Nothing stirred. Elisha felt the ground came up to meet her.
A Child of Pain: Part 3
Elisha pushed her chair nearer to her grandmother’s bed, and gently rested her head on the mattress. She sighed. She felt tired as it had been a hectic week.
She had gone to see her grandmother in the nursing home where she found the older lady on the floor. Grammie Willie had fallen out of her bed. The staff had called an ambulance which then brought her to the hospital. Elisha who visited her every evening before going home had gone with her and when they had found out that the old lady had suffered a stroke and had to be hospitalised, she had gone to her grandmother’s bedside every day.
Elisha sighed again, and closed her eyes.
On that fateful afternoon when her mother Tiffany returned, Elisha felt like it was the end of her world, her happiness and everything else that matters. She fell to the ground released by her mother from a vice like grip, and laid there stunned looking at the sky, gasping.
“Tiffany…” Grammie Willie had uttered the voice full of sadness.
“Oh…don’t you Tiffany me, old woman. I know what you are…o yes! My father left because he could not stand to be with you anymore! You cunt-licker!” Tiffany raged.
“It was not like that Fannie…even if you hate me, don’t think it was like that. Your father left us for different reasons…” Grammie pleaded.
“Oh please!! Cut that out…I don’t believe a word you say. I know that Gloria woman was here…she was your best friend, wasn’t she , Willie…she came here to console you, didn’t she….by getting into bed with you….!”
“No…! it was not like that at all….”
“Liar! You fucking liar!”
“Listen Fannie….listen,” Willie yelled as she strode towards her daughter.
“No you listen, Cunt! You give me the money for that…that…”
“Fannie….I was never with Gloria. She came to visit us when I called her. Your father was leaving me and I had to have someone to talk to…”
“Liar…!! I won’t listen to your lies anymore…!!”
“Its true, Fannie…please listen! Your father had to go…he was sick, Fannie. He could not live with us any longer. He had leprosy, that’s why he left…and he never returned. He was in Foreign Service, remember….He loved us, Fannie, but he had to leave.”
Tiffany was quiet for the longest time and then she screamed. Her scream was so loud and forced that she did not sound human at all. She then ran towards the older woman.
Elisha had grabbed the knife that had fallen near her and ran…screaming too.
Her mother kept on running towards her mother, but looked back, and that was then that she fell as her platform shoes gave way on the soft soil. She fell towards Elisha and on her with a resounding whump.
Elisha felt the breath squashed off her and everything went swimmy for a while, until her Grammie got her out from under her mother.
“Oh Elly….oooh Elly…!” her Grammie moaned, as Elisha looked at the red liquid on her hands and chest.
Her mother moved and whispered ‘Gimmie that…” and Elisha looked down at her. Her mother grabbed the knife that was still in her grasp, and then she hid it under her.
“Go awaaaayyyy!!” her mother screamed, throatily and went still.
A neighbour who heard the screams ran up to see what was going on. Seeing the woman on her stomach with blood seeping out and the older woman cradling a dazed child and rocking her back and forth a few yards away, she summed up that something very wrong had occurred. She then called an ambulance.
Elisha did not remember what really occurred after that, but the funeral was almost lonely. Only Grammie Willie and her cousin Joe and his wife came. Elisha was sent to her best friend’s Sheena for the day. But Sheena had told her that her mother was a suicide. Elisha did not understand that either.
The episode was only mentioned years later when Elisha was going to college and leaving the house for the first time.
Her Grammie had said, “You know I will never really know if your mother ran to me to reconcile or to strangle me. But in the end, she was an angel. She loved us, deep within her, she did.”
Elisha had merely nodded.
On the hospital bed, Elisha smiled in her sleep, as her Grammie Willie opened her eyes and her hand moved to stroke the long curly hair. Wilhelmina breathed her last, as her beloved grandchild dreamed of Elysian Fields.
Ends.
She had gone to see her grandmother in the nursing home where she found the older lady on the floor. Grammie Willie had fallen out of her bed. The staff had called an ambulance which then brought her to the hospital. Elisha who visited her every evening before going home had gone with her and when they had found out that the old lady had suffered a stroke and had to be hospitalised, she had gone to her grandmother’s bedside every day.
Elisha sighed again, and closed her eyes.
On that fateful afternoon when her mother Tiffany returned, Elisha felt like it was the end of her world, her happiness and everything else that matters. She fell to the ground released by her mother from a vice like grip, and laid there stunned looking at the sky, gasping.
“Tiffany…” Grammie Willie had uttered the voice full of sadness.
“Oh…don’t you Tiffany me, old woman. I know what you are…o yes! My father left because he could not stand to be with you anymore! You cunt-licker!” Tiffany raged.
“It was not like that Fannie…even if you hate me, don’t think it was like that. Your father left us for different reasons…” Grammie pleaded.
“Oh please!! Cut that out…I don’t believe a word you say. I know that Gloria woman was here…she was your best friend, wasn’t she , Willie…she came here to console you, didn’t she….by getting into bed with you….!”
“No…! it was not like that at all….”
“Liar! You fucking liar!”
“Listen Fannie….listen,” Willie yelled as she strode towards her daughter.
“No you listen, Cunt! You give me the money for that…that…”
“Fannie….I was never with Gloria. She came to visit us when I called her. Your father was leaving me and I had to have someone to talk to…”
“Liar…!! I won’t listen to your lies anymore…!!”
“Its true, Fannie…please listen! Your father had to go…he was sick, Fannie. He could not live with us any longer. He had leprosy, that’s why he left…and he never returned. He was in Foreign Service, remember….He loved us, Fannie, but he had to leave.”
Tiffany was quiet for the longest time and then she screamed. Her scream was so loud and forced that she did not sound human at all. She then ran towards the older woman.
Elisha had grabbed the knife that had fallen near her and ran…screaming too.
Her mother kept on running towards her mother, but looked back, and that was then that she fell as her platform shoes gave way on the soft soil. She fell towards Elisha and on her with a resounding whump.
Elisha felt the breath squashed off her and everything went swimmy for a while, until her Grammie got her out from under her mother.
“Oh Elly….oooh Elly…!” her Grammie moaned, as Elisha looked at the red liquid on her hands and chest.
Her mother moved and whispered ‘Gimmie that…” and Elisha looked down at her. Her mother grabbed the knife that was still in her grasp, and then she hid it under her.
“Go awaaaayyyy!!” her mother screamed, throatily and went still.
A neighbour who heard the screams ran up to see what was going on. Seeing the woman on her stomach with blood seeping out and the older woman cradling a dazed child and rocking her back and forth a few yards away, she summed up that something very wrong had occurred. She then called an ambulance.
Elisha did not remember what really occurred after that, but the funeral was almost lonely. Only Grammie Willie and her cousin Joe and his wife came. Elisha was sent to her best friend’s Sheena for the day. But Sheena had told her that her mother was a suicide. Elisha did not understand that either.
The episode was only mentioned years later when Elisha was going to college and leaving the house for the first time.
Her Grammie had said, “You know I will never really know if your mother ran to me to reconcile or to strangle me. But in the end, she was an angel. She loved us, deep within her, she did.”
Elisha had merely nodded.
On the hospital bed, Elisha smiled in her sleep, as her Grammie Willie opened her eyes and her hand moved to stroke the long curly hair. Wilhelmina breathed her last, as her beloved grandchild dreamed of Elysian Fields.
Ends.
Published 25th July 2013 8:13pm
- Last modified 3rd September 2013 1:20am
A collection of writes:
Quatrain
I wish I was a butterfly
Walking in the park today
Among the bright red blooms
The colours so bright and gay
Emanating nature’s perfume
Floating by, a butterfly
Fly and rested on the ground
I wish I had wings so fluttery
To fly around the world
For free it is to travel
To worlds magical and enchanted
No tears or sighs, never fearful
Loving, living life so pleasant.
Free Prose
Lamentations of self
I hear the music play again tonight. The melody and the lyrics like little pins and needles, they prick into my soul. Like tentacles they creep sinuously into my heart, breaks it and then minced it into little tiny mewls of pain. The words they reached into my depth and rip off any semblance of peace.
For with this song I remember you. Your eyes looking deep into mine, brown flecked with gold, they sparkled.
You coming into my life was a boon, a balm to a hurt soul that had just recovered from the deceit and bed of lies from another. How I prayed for one who would hold out a hand and help me up from that crib of thorns, so painful to lie on but lie I did. For what choice did I have; nowhere to go, nowhere to run. Until at last, a night of sorrow pain and humiliation gave me no choice but to leave. That night when I left; I never looked back and for years I did not, until you. My love my life, but that was then wasn’t it; time when I was loved and needed by you. Wanted and lusted upon.
You were my knight on a long haul truck, we lived in our castle in the woods, playing King and Queen of love loving and salving past pain.
Until she came, your ex-sister in law…she sashayed into the room showing her beauty in her swan-like neck and the moves of a ballerina. In the living room of our house during the first time, your eyes never left her. For beauty she was, as beautiful as the morning sun…so bright so gold….so young. And I so brown, a child of the faraway sun, the sand my home the sea my life-canvas.
You were lost then. In a week of her arrival, she took my place in your arms. In a two weeks my bed, until one day I just walked out into the wilderness of life again. I could not force you to love me….I could not pick up the pieces of my broken heart. But I carry this song with me. Every time it plays, my heart’s stigmata bleed.
Haiku
A morning song
Mountain reflecting sun rays
The east in strength grows
The lyre sings
I wish I was a butterfly
Walking in the park today
Among the bright red blooms
The colours so bright and gay
Emanating nature’s perfume
Floating by, a butterfly
Fly and rested on the ground
I wish I had wings so fluttery
To fly around the world
For free it is to travel
To worlds magical and enchanted
No tears or sighs, never fearful
Loving, living life so pleasant.
Free Prose
Lamentations of self
I hear the music play again tonight. The melody and the lyrics like little pins and needles, they prick into my soul. Like tentacles they creep sinuously into my heart, breaks it and then minced it into little tiny mewls of pain. The words they reached into my depth and rip off any semblance of peace.
For with this song I remember you. Your eyes looking deep into mine, brown flecked with gold, they sparkled.
You coming into my life was a boon, a balm to a hurt soul that had just recovered from the deceit and bed of lies from another. How I prayed for one who would hold out a hand and help me up from that crib of thorns, so painful to lie on but lie I did. For what choice did I have; nowhere to go, nowhere to run. Until at last, a night of sorrow pain and humiliation gave me no choice but to leave. That night when I left; I never looked back and for years I did not, until you. My love my life, but that was then wasn’t it; time when I was loved and needed by you. Wanted and lusted upon.
You were my knight on a long haul truck, we lived in our castle in the woods, playing King and Queen of love loving and salving past pain.
Until she came, your ex-sister in law…she sashayed into the room showing her beauty in her swan-like neck and the moves of a ballerina. In the living room of our house during the first time, your eyes never left her. For beauty she was, as beautiful as the morning sun…so bright so gold….so young. And I so brown, a child of the faraway sun, the sand my home the sea my life-canvas.
You were lost then. In a week of her arrival, she took my place in your arms. In a two weeks my bed, until one day I just walked out into the wilderness of life again. I could not force you to love me….I could not pick up the pieces of my broken heart. But I carry this song with me. Every time it plays, my heart’s stigmata bleed.
Haiku
A morning song
Mountain reflecting sun rays
The east in strength grows
The lyre sings
Published 26th April 2013 2:15pm
A day without It
Idle buzz a single leaf
A butterfly a bird a bee
Drifted by languidly
Sunny afternoon bright,
Lazy zephyr passed by
A yawn kissed my lips
a baby cried somewhere
hushed by a loving mother
quiet reigned in treacly
sweet air, languidly blowing
into my face
a car honked in the distance
A distant plane flew by
I sat there watching nothing
On that bench a dragonfly rested
Looked at my fingers
Flew again, evoking a sigh
From me; a few ants travelled by
A life without my laptop
So cut off from the world
So alone in the big blue marble
Grieving absent coffee calls
A butterfly a bird a bee
Drifted by languidly
Sunny afternoon bright,
Lazy zephyr passed by
A yawn kissed my lips
a baby cried somewhere
hushed by a loving mother
quiet reigned in treacly
sweet air, languidly blowing
into my face
a car honked in the distance
A distant plane flew by
I sat there watching nothing
On that bench a dragonfly rested
Looked at my fingers
Flew again, evoking a sigh
From me; a few ants travelled by
A life without my laptop
So cut off from the world
So alone in the big blue marble
Grieving absent coffee calls
Published 16th May 2013 4:53pm
- Last modified 16th May 2013 5:30pm
A Fall from Grace
She felt she was pious and good
Praying to God every chance she could
loud and shrill she humbly implored
for forgiveness from her almighty God
she was very neat and meticulously clean
for cleanliness was next to godliness
she used to spit very decorously in the bin
when she sneezed she covered her ears
she had never had a lover
for none dared to approach her
until a friend’s Uncle Roger
brought her home for dinner
she was good and she was fine
she laughed and chattered happily
as she drank and heartily dined
slurping and munching rather noisily
Uncle Roger married her
During a gusty summer day
She was glowing like ember
With her billowing white attire
She was not so neat afterwards
Her hair was always mussed
Her face seemed forever blushed
But so was uncle Roger’s.
Praying to God every chance she could
loud and shrill she humbly implored
for forgiveness from her almighty God
she was very neat and meticulously clean
for cleanliness was next to godliness
she used to spit very decorously in the bin
when she sneezed she covered her ears
she had never had a lover
for none dared to approach her
until a friend’s Uncle Roger
brought her home for dinner
she was good and she was fine
she laughed and chattered happily
as she drank and heartily dined
slurping and munching rather noisily
Uncle Roger married her
During a gusty summer day
She was glowing like ember
With her billowing white attire
She was not so neat afterwards
Her hair was always mussed
Her face seemed forever blushed
But so was uncle Roger’s.
Published 2nd March 2014 9:19pm
- Last modified 2nd March 2014 10:40pm
A Father's lamentations
Weeping will not do you any good
You stupid son of a bitch
You have done everything against God
teaching, Faggot, you backdoor loving bastard
If you have not been born
If your mother had an abortion
To scrap you out of her womb
No, to erase you obilerate you
You would not be here
In this hospital with that tube in your face
Do you know, I looked for you every where
In the back lane of this sweltering city
Looking into descrepit houses
Into garbage dumps, praying that I
would see you there, find you
even in rags and bring you home
I prayed in churches in parks
In open spaces that I might find you
and bring you home
Even if you did not want us
You left, you little whore-man
without telling your mother
that you left with another man
a faggot he was and so are you
You never said anything to us at all
You just left, bringing us sorrow
and grief before the eventual
would that we grieve for your death
clean death, o dear God, clean
But this? This I cannot stand
How did you become this?
You were my son, so beloved of mine
I remember the first few toys I bought
Darth Vader, Godzilla, robotman
You loved them all then
although you spent your mother's
lipstick on them
The bicycle, remember it?
You painted it with pink hearts
Remember?
Remember the swing under the linden tree
where I pushed you and you sang
that song about the banana man?
Oh my son, my son what changed you?
Can I even get to understand
why you changed? Even your name?
From Billy to Bella, isn't that insane?
And here you lie, eyebrows plucked
like a thanksgiving turkey...
I cannot understand why..why?
Your face pale with oozing pustules
Your lips cracked, your eyes sunken
Your voice is gone, your hands skeletal
You breath rattles you stink of death
Oh my son my son, I will wait with you
if only I could fight the reaper with my fists
for you my son...
But no, I can't , so I bid you good rest
drink this concoction now, it will make you sleep
Nightshade will bring eternal night to you
Good night My son.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 10th December 2011 11:48pm
You stupid son of a bitch
You have done everything against God
teaching, Faggot, you backdoor loving bastard
If you have not been born
If your mother had an abortion
To scrap you out of her womb
No, to erase you obilerate you
You would not be here
In this hospital with that tube in your face
Do you know, I looked for you every where
In the back lane of this sweltering city
Looking into descrepit houses
Into garbage dumps, praying that I
would see you there, find you
even in rags and bring you home
I prayed in churches in parks
In open spaces that I might find you
and bring you home
Even if you did not want us
You left, you little whore-man
without telling your mother
that you left with another man
a faggot he was and so are you
You never said anything to us at all
You just left, bringing us sorrow
and grief before the eventual
would that we grieve for your death
clean death, o dear God, clean
But this? This I cannot stand
How did you become this?
You were my son, so beloved of mine
I remember the first few toys I bought
Darth Vader, Godzilla, robotman
You loved them all then
although you spent your mother's
lipstick on them
The bicycle, remember it?
You painted it with pink hearts
Remember?
Remember the swing under the linden tree
where I pushed you and you sang
that song about the banana man?
Oh my son, my son what changed you?
Can I even get to understand
why you changed? Even your name?
From Billy to Bella, isn't that insane?
And here you lie, eyebrows plucked
like a thanksgiving turkey...
I cannot understand why..why?
Your face pale with oozing pustules
Your lips cracked, your eyes sunken
Your voice is gone, your hands skeletal
You breath rattles you stink of death
Oh my son my son, I will wait with you
if only I could fight the reaper with my fists
for you my son...
But no, I can't , so I bid you good rest
drink this concoction now, it will make you sleep
Nightshade will bring eternal night to you
Good night My son.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 10th December 2011 11:48pm
A Feast of the Gods
Upon the table, the buffet stand
gourmet all in a row
gormandisers standing in line
plates on hand
to dig in the delectable
hearts from virgins so pure
sliced so thinly
peppered with chili
from beyond Cathay
piled up with shredded mango
innards and gizzards
of gutted rogues
stuffed with diced lotus roots
mixed with nuts and parsley
sprinkled with sauteed shallots
soft succulent brains
of baby monkeys
fried in soy sauce
with ginger and onion
celery cuts on top
the stew is thick
bones grounded fine
filled with potatoes
it is good hot stew
the diners are licking their lips
happy thanksgiving
tuck in
The turkeys
are all six-footers
Enjoy the entree.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 11th November 2013 9:06am
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 1st August 2014 11:22pm
gourmet all in a row
gormandisers standing in line
plates on hand
to dig in the delectable
hearts from virgins so pure
sliced so thinly
peppered with chili
from beyond Cathay
piled up with shredded mango
innards and gizzards
of gutted rogues
stuffed with diced lotus roots
mixed with nuts and parsley
sprinkled with sauteed shallots
soft succulent brains
of baby monkeys
fried in soy sauce
with ginger and onion
celery cuts on top
the stew is thick
bones grounded fine
filled with potatoes
it is good hot stew
the diners are licking their lips
happy thanksgiving
tuck in
The turkeys
are all six-footers
Enjoy the entree.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 11th November 2013 9:06am
A Gasp in Time
it was a stop in a minute
designated randomly by time
a pause, like a slowed clock
the heart skipped a little
witnessing a perfection
in that small tick
it was a gasp
a little stumble
a slow growing ripple
and a euphoria
starting from the centre
encompassing the surrounding space
a writing on the wall
a graffiti, etched there
adorning a pulse
that would go on for a while
adoring that perfection
an honesty in the words
I love You.
designated randomly by time
a pause, like a slowed clock
the heart skipped a little
witnessing a perfection
in that small tick
it was a gasp
a little stumble
a slow growing ripple
and a euphoria
starting from the centre
encompassing the surrounding space
a writing on the wall
a graffiti, etched there
adorning a pulse
that would go on for a while
adoring that perfection
an honesty in the words
I love You.
Published 1st August 2014 11:22pm
A Graceful Prayer
Show me mercy o Lord
That I may not murder, and I may live
Teach me compassion, God
That I may not kill, that I may survive
This hatred born of love
When reaper reaped my betrothed
Thus denied his embrace
Denied the sowing of his seeds
That I may not murder, and I may live
Teach me compassion, God
That I may not kill, that I may survive
This hatred born of love
When reaper reaped my betrothed
Thus denied his embrace
Denied the sowing of his seeds
Published 21st November 2011 5:00pm
A Grain of Sand
miracle cures offered
at every step
pushing papers to faces
a twinkle in the eye
for cures of all ills
stands he on a grain of sand
ailing to his core
old skin sloughed off
changing his spots
leaving scratch marks
grains of sand trickles
the wall clock ticks on
ponders he on deeds
done to bulge his coffers
he has done all, short of murder
the hungry child
sewing thick jeans
the haggard woman
stooped over necklaces
for his wealth chains
what cares he
they are far away
beyond the stars and stripes
just dark ones
in eastern slums
stands he there
pondering on the one
grain of sand
that will fall for him
calling scytheman
his millions
buy him not a minute
far away the bell rings
they troop out of factories
as he flashes out
A grain of sand
the last one fell
thudding on his ornate box
roses and poses
his rich widow smiles.
at every step
pushing papers to faces
a twinkle in the eye
for cures of all ills
stands he on a grain of sand
ailing to his core
old skin sloughed off
changing his spots
leaving scratch marks
grains of sand trickles
the wall clock ticks on
ponders he on deeds
done to bulge his coffers
he has done all, short of murder
the hungry child
sewing thick jeans
the haggard woman
stooped over necklaces
for his wealth chains
what cares he
they are far away
beyond the stars and stripes
just dark ones
in eastern slums
stands he there
pondering on the one
grain of sand
that will fall for him
calling scytheman
his millions
buy him not a minute
far away the bell rings
they troop out of factories
as he flashes out
A grain of sand
the last one fell
thudding on his ornate box
roses and poses
his rich widow smiles.
Published 3rd January 2014 10:14pm
A happier Year ahead
Hog stands in penned grass
fat to the slaughter
to adorn his master's table
nudging the mugs of beer
to witness cries of cheers
clinking of full goblets
simpering maids dressed foolishly
in body hugging contraptions
a happy new year they'll cry
wrenching off legs and ribs
of still chicken and pigs
dressed up in goey liquid
Hog faints in the heat
so they pass him by
that one's dead they thought
leaving with other squealing pigs
Alone in the sty
grunting among garbage
Hog will face a happier new year
living an interesting serene life
That'll do, Pig
that'll do.
fat to the slaughter
to adorn his master's table
nudging the mugs of beer
to witness cries of cheers
clinking of full goblets
simpering maids dressed foolishly
in body hugging contraptions
a happy new year they'll cry
wrenching off legs and ribs
of still chicken and pigs
dressed up in goey liquid
Hog faints in the heat
so they pass him by
that one's dead they thought
leaving with other squealing pigs
Alone in the sty
grunting among garbage
Hog will face a happier new year
living an interesting serene life
That'll do, Pig
that'll do.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. Thank you for reading.*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 29th December 2014 8:54pm
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 2nd February 2014 00:24am
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 6th January 2013 10:30pm
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 18th December 2011 6:47am
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 17th December 2013 9:56pm
A Lullaby for a Dream
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 26th September 2014 8:24am
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 14th October 2012 6:51am
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 14th October 2012 6:53am
A New Dawn
A Pain Remembered
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 29th December 2014 8:54pm
A haunter haunting haunts
a flick of a duster
a whip of a handkerchief
a whisper of gowns
on deserted hallways
an echo of memories
on silent sober pictures
all hung neatly on the wall
eyes of then watching passersby
shrieks and screams
rebounding on the turbid air
churning out thoughts of sorrow
from whipped ravaged flesh
the chambers for the lost
are all empty now
just silent walls stand
witness to the endless haunting
for the haunters haunt their haunt
trying to find out what went wrong
why was love locked out
with people called their own.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 4th June 2015 2:10pm
a whip of a handkerchief
a whisper of gowns
on deserted hallways
an echo of memories
on silent sober pictures
all hung neatly on the wall
eyes of then watching passersby
shrieks and screams
rebounding on the turbid air
churning out thoughts of sorrow
from whipped ravaged flesh
the chambers for the lost
are all empty now
just silent walls stand
witness to the endless haunting
for the haunters haunt their haunt
trying to find out what went wrong
why was love locked out
with people called their own.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 4th June 2015 2:10pm
A heart on the Grass
In a lighter shade of green
Upon a grassy field
A heart is carved
On the mat of grass
In shades of Lavender
Leaves from trees
Embracing the autumn sky
Flutter to the grass below
The union of nature
In the dawn of fall
Leaves to heart
In time for winter
Come Spring
they will live
again, all of them
nature sigh love songs
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 1st October 2013 10:30am
Upon a grassy field
A heart is carved
On the mat of grass
In shades of Lavender
Leaves from trees
Embracing the autumn sky
Flutter to the grass below
The union of nature
In the dawn of fall
Leaves to heart
In time for winter
Come Spring
they will live
again, all of them
nature sigh love songs
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 1st October 2013 10:30am
A Jaunty Afternoon Walk
A day today that just went by
a walk in a balmy but blustery day
a stranger strode by with happy Hello
with a smile that sent lightness to my heart
steps buoyant, in a cheerful jaunty way
all cheery and gay with a gladsome smile
lighthearted and sunny, whistling an upbeat tune
This exuberant and exultant man
jubilant and rapt with the wonderful day
rejoicing and thrilled to be alive
hopeful and optimistic for a rosy tomorrow
what was his story, I wondered
was he free from all his sorrow
his burden heavy, and feeling blue,
was he brokenhearted and cast down,
by the woman he dearly loved
or crestfallen and dejected,
by children who depressed him
was he despondent and disconsolate
after losing everything he owned
even so, he was no longer down or downcast,
nor was he downhearted and forlorn
this train of words passed by
visions of embroidered miracles
laughter bubbling out my lips
happy endings on my fingertips
Its heartening and heartwarming
inspiring and stimulating to songs
that spells of stirring, uplifting joy
A delightful and enjoyable sojourn
outside the door on a sunny evening
A pleasant encounter so welcomed
a joyous and happy day!
a walk in a balmy but blustery day
a stranger strode by with happy Hello
with a smile that sent lightness to my heart
steps buoyant, in a cheerful jaunty way
all cheery and gay with a gladsome smile
lighthearted and sunny, whistling an upbeat tune
This exuberant and exultant man
jubilant and rapt with the wonderful day
rejoicing and thrilled to be alive
hopeful and optimistic for a rosy tomorrow
what was his story, I wondered
was he free from all his sorrow
his burden heavy, and feeling blue,
was he brokenhearted and cast down,
by the woman he dearly loved
or crestfallen and dejected,
by children who depressed him
was he despondent and disconsolate
after losing everything he owned
even so, he was no longer down or downcast,
nor was he downhearted and forlorn
this train of words passed by
visions of embroidered miracles
laughter bubbling out my lips
happy endings on my fingertips
Its heartening and heartwarming
inspiring and stimulating to songs
that spells of stirring, uplifting joy
A delightful and enjoyable sojourn
outside the door on a sunny evening
A pleasant encounter so welcomed
a joyous and happy day!
Published 2nd February 2014 00:24am
A letter from Beyond
Did you get my letter yesterday?
Did you read it at all
Did the boy give it to you
Or did he give it to your parents
Did you read it, dear John?
You see I waited for you at the bustop
You said you would be there
I waited for a night and a day
But you never came by
I couldn’t go home anymore
I couldn't tell you why
I told my parents I was going away
I said I would never return
For I am going with you
To a place where
there is only you and I
They pushed me out the door
Good riddance to bad rubbish they say
Get out and stay away
You are little more than a slut
They turned away and closed the door
I waited for you again today
Sitting at the bustop all day
Its been a year and a month
That I fell asleep on this bench
I have been here since
I heard a woman say today
This bustop is haunted by a young lady
Died of exposure here so long ago
I shiver as she walked away
Passing right through me…..
Did you read it at all
Did the boy give it to you
Or did he give it to your parents
Did you read it, dear John?
You see I waited for you at the bustop
You said you would be there
I waited for a night and a day
But you never came by
I couldn’t go home anymore
I couldn't tell you why
I told my parents I was going away
I said I would never return
For I am going with you
To a place where
there is only you and I
They pushed me out the door
Good riddance to bad rubbish they say
Get out and stay away
You are little more than a slut
They turned away and closed the door
I waited for you again today
Sitting at the bustop all day
Its been a year and a month
That I fell asleep on this bench
I have been here since
I heard a woman say today
This bustop is haunted by a young lady
Died of exposure here so long ago
I shiver as she walked away
Passing right through me…..
Published 6th January 2013 10:30pm
A letter from the Mountains
Dear John
The ice is thick the snow is deep
The sky is blue but unmerciful still
Its heated cauldron is so up high
Since we landed on this white wasteland
The jagged peaks around us loom
Like dragon’s teeth planted on the ground
My heart is breaking as I say this
Our son, yours and mine
He breathed his last today
He was broken deep inside
In both his body and his spirit
I weep, no, I wail, I grief
For him our only son
Born of my womb
Consecrated with your love
Our first born
Our beloved
Would that I died in his stead
Would that I know where heaven is
I would trade myself for him
So you will see your son once more
So you can embrace him
My beloved husband
My Love
It has been a week since the tragedy
I see no signs of rescuers
No humming of helicopters
There are little sounds here
Except for the screaming winds
Gushing through the plane’s broken wings
Almost all have perished
For food is gone and morale is low
Along with the others,
Our daughter is fading away
Just six, she is so sick
My beloved John, My husband
I am one of two that’s still alive
I am fading fast, I feel so light
Our daughter’s in my arms
Dead those four days
I leave to see our son now
There is light around us
Roars of clapping thunder
Rotating lights and flashing lightning
Waves of screaming voices
I can’t see them but they are near
Are they angels of death then…
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 7th July 2012 10:03pm
The ice is thick the snow is deep
The sky is blue but unmerciful still
Its heated cauldron is so up high
Since we landed on this white wasteland
The jagged peaks around us loom
Like dragon’s teeth planted on the ground
My heart is breaking as I say this
Our son, yours and mine
He breathed his last today
He was broken deep inside
In both his body and his spirit
I weep, no, I wail, I grief
For him our only son
Born of my womb
Consecrated with your love
Our first born
Our beloved
Would that I died in his stead
Would that I know where heaven is
I would trade myself for him
So you will see your son once more
So you can embrace him
My beloved husband
My Love
It has been a week since the tragedy
I see no signs of rescuers
No humming of helicopters
There are little sounds here
Except for the screaming winds
Gushing through the plane’s broken wings
Almost all have perished
For food is gone and morale is low
Along with the others,
Our daughter is fading away
Just six, she is so sick
My beloved John, My husband
I am one of two that’s still alive
I am fading fast, I feel so light
Our daughter’s in my arms
Dead those four days
I leave to see our son now
There is light around us
Roars of clapping thunder
Rotating lights and flashing lightning
Waves of screaming voices
I can’t see them but they are near
Are they angels of death then…
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 7th July 2012 10:03pm
A Letter to Angel
a flame within the soul
needing the desire to love
wanting to touch feel smell
the scents of carnality
evaluating this burning need
mere pleasure for a time
seed the universe with lust
or grow a life in a womb
love indeed, having worshipped
at its altar, that God created
he had spoken of Love above all
to Love, be loved, to forsake
all others, without whom no rings
were exchanged, except that curbed
the unwanted breath, to be birthed
yet he desired to fuse with another
Love yes, in letters profoundly stated
in words, spoken trembling voice poignant
advocating love, loving, promises made
it would come to naught those words
for Love, in love's needs and desires
limber offerings of physical contact
penetration into lust and hearts
of G-spots, could wander off afterwards
hear the beating of your heart
in love deep and true, or not
mere needs to curtain off the dark
of lonely years, wetting sheets
with your loving dreams
until such when you fly
from this shell free at last
or to fold your other half fast
stay true to love spoken then
when blush of youth bloom
stay true as they turn to memories
beneath wrinkles love stays honest.
needing the desire to love
wanting to touch feel smell
the scents of carnality
evaluating this burning need
mere pleasure for a time
seed the universe with lust
or grow a life in a womb
love indeed, having worshipped
at its altar, that God created
he had spoken of Love above all
to Love, be loved, to forsake
all others, without whom no rings
were exchanged, except that curbed
the unwanted breath, to be birthed
yet he desired to fuse with another
Love yes, in letters profoundly stated
in words, spoken trembling voice poignant
advocating love, loving, promises made
it would come to naught those words
for Love, in love's needs and desires
limber offerings of physical contact
penetration into lust and hearts
of G-spots, could wander off afterwards
hear the beating of your heart
in love deep and true, or not
mere needs to curtain off the dark
of lonely years, wetting sheets
with your loving dreams
until such when you fly
from this shell free at last
or to fold your other half fast
stay true to love spoken then
when blush of youth bloom
stay true as they turn to memories
beneath wrinkles love stays honest.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 31st July 2014 9:07am
A letter to Tara
Tara, read this letter
Please don’t tear
It to pieces and throw it away
Please read on this is my plea
I will never write to you again
Don’t worry this I swear
I know I hurt you so
I know I was wrong when I took him
Away from you
But I loved him too
Maybe more than you will ever do
As your face is your fortune
I know that I was wrong
When he told me it was never me
It was only me because of sympathy
Of my plain face and the many tears
When I begged him to be with me
My imploration and passionate coercion
He left this morning Tara
He boarded a train to faraway
Before he left he said this
Tell Tara I love her
Tell Tara I will be back
Its for her that I will live
I was never the one
I was just someone
Who wanted too much to be loved
Who suffered the years of lovelessness
Who endured bare tolerance
Who has been set free at last.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 16th July 2012 9:13pm
Please don’t tear
It to pieces and throw it away
Please read on this is my plea
I will never write to you again
Don’t worry this I swear
I know I hurt you so
I know I was wrong when I took him
Away from you
But I loved him too
Maybe more than you will ever do
As your face is your fortune
I know that I was wrong
When he told me it was never me
It was only me because of sympathy
Of my plain face and the many tears
When I begged him to be with me
My imploration and passionate coercion
He left this morning Tara
He boarded a train to faraway
Before he left he said this
Tell Tara I love her
Tell Tara I will be back
Its for her that I will live
I was never the one
I was just someone
Who wanted too much to be loved
Who suffered the years of lovelessness
Who endured bare tolerance
Who has been set free at last.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 16th July 2012 9:13pm
A Link Forgotten
just a touch a little nudge
whispered reminder
of what has been
love songs sang
off an evening
through the years
compiled into concerts
remembering
glorious sunsets
beyond the mountains
twin peaks with glowing cleavage
an imaginary walk along the terrace
of hillocks with flowered gardens
a romance of then
reality and mortgage payments
scratched the walls of dreams
heaven shot up to the skies
leaving life mundane as dead leaves
on some forgotten highway
the scents of lilacs
stirs in dreams
the fantasy of then
the perfect life of loved
and beloved
in dreams are the highway and bridge
to the link forgotten
to perfection.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 7th September 2015 3:09pm
- Last modified 7th September 2015 3:40pm
whispered reminder
of what has been
love songs sang
off an evening
through the years
compiled into concerts
remembering
glorious sunsets
beyond the mountains
twin peaks with glowing cleavage
an imaginary walk along the terrace
of hillocks with flowered gardens
a romance of then
reality and mortgage payments
scratched the walls of dreams
heaven shot up to the skies
leaving life mundane as dead leaves
on some forgotten highway
the scents of lilacs
stirs in dreams
the fantasy of then
the perfect life of loved
and beloved
in dreams are the highway and bridge
to the link forgotten
to perfection.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 7th September 2015 3:09pm
- Last modified 7th September 2015 3:40pm
A little dying today
Dirges for my hopes
wailed from my heart
today
choking up my throat
tearing up my eyes
today
A little dying within
happened very slowly
today
A small chant began
within my soul
today
The chant for a dying
soul, incantations for peace
on the travel to the netherworld
today
There is a soul on a passage
to the other side
The spirit of my love
The soul of my heart
The hopes of my dreams
The future of my being
They started dying today
Cos I heard her sleepy voice
besides you, when you took
up the phone
today
Her sleepy sexy voice
Saying who is it baby
and you answered 'no one'
wailed from my heart
today
choking up my throat
tearing up my eyes
today
A little dying within
happened very slowly
today
A small chant began
within my soul
today
The chant for a dying
soul, incantations for peace
on the travel to the netherworld
today
There is a soul on a passage
to the other side
The spirit of my love
The soul of my heart
The hopes of my dreams
The future of my being
They started dying today
Cos I heard her sleepy voice
besides you, when you took
up the phone
today
Her sleepy sexy voice
Saying who is it baby
and you answered 'no one'
Published 18th December 2011 6:47am
A Love Dance
breathes the musky scent
of a man
feel the skin smooth
of a woman
tantalising dance
on private ballroom
fusion of bodies
in the changing dazzling lights
touches hands clasped
lips touching, giving life
taking life, a union
engulfing the other
one another in a giving
soft dance of love
a waltz, with eyes closed
feeling the union
exquisite joining
Riding the waves
of ecstasy
entwined
intertwined
feel, touch
caress
pulses of life
searing pain pleasure
a death
drowning in each others eyes
one in all
united in love
falling together
passion sleep
a light slumber.
of a man
feel the skin smooth
of a woman
tantalising dance
on private ballroom
fusion of bodies
in the changing dazzling lights
touches hands clasped
lips touching, giving life
taking life, a union
engulfing the other
one another in a giving
soft dance of love
a waltz, with eyes closed
feeling the union
exquisite joining
Riding the waves
of ecstasy
entwined
intertwined
feel, touch
caress
pulses of life
searing pain pleasure
a death
drowning in each others eyes
one in all
united in love
falling together
passion sleep
a light slumber.
Published 17th December 2013 9:56pm
A luggage, in an empty room
it was a grainy picture
cracked at the edges
that nudged my thoughts
of how you were
wasn't our palms warm then
clasped together
like we would never let go
cast in iron so we thought
the smiles we shared
the dreams we dared
to walked towards to
the foundations built
along the way we forgot
the softness of our hearts
enshrined in our vows
pushed far behind our ambitions
we vacated the room
where our hearts danced
the music faded away
and silence reigned
one day someone else entered
and danced the waltz
enticing you in your shroud
of loneliness to dance
you left to pursue the hopes
of the promises of rainbows
in a new land with renewed vows
just not with me
I whirled along with swans
with an aching heart
left to do the finale
done without an encore
wandering in this room again
squared within my mind
I touched the ghosts
and listen to echoing laughter
of then
this old grainy photograph
a full luggage of memories
is surprisingly light
I walk out into a bright day.
cracked at the edges
that nudged my thoughts
of how you were
wasn't our palms warm then
clasped together
like we would never let go
cast in iron so we thought
the smiles we shared
the dreams we dared
to walked towards to
the foundations built
along the way we forgot
the softness of our hearts
enshrined in our vows
pushed far behind our ambitions
we vacated the room
where our hearts danced
the music faded away
and silence reigned
one day someone else entered
and danced the waltz
enticing you in your shroud
of loneliness to dance
you left to pursue the hopes
of the promises of rainbows
in a new land with renewed vows
just not with me
I whirled along with swans
with an aching heart
left to do the finale
done without an encore
wandering in this room again
squared within my mind
I touched the ghosts
and listen to echoing laughter
of then
this old grainy photograph
a full luggage of memories
is surprisingly light
I walk out into a bright day.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 22nd September 2015 8:15am
Published 22nd September 2015 8:15am
A Lullaby for a Dream
Hush sweet dream
Hold me within your arms
Show me the way
To dreamland
Where I can play
Again
The swing from the tree
The weeping willow
By the river
This used to be
My playground
I danced here
The field of flowers
Hidden in the woods
Where butterflies flutter
Watched by baleful toads
Water lilies on the pond
Where dragonfly soar
Hush says the wind
Over the treetops
The smell of rain
Sudden drops
Clouds over blue
Rainbow hues
My home
In my dream
Im there again
Don’t stop the lullaby
Just for a while
Bring me Home.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 16th September 2013 11:51pm
Hold me within your arms
Show me the way
To dreamland
Where I can play
Again
The swing from the tree
The weeping willow
By the river
This used to be
My playground
I danced here
The field of flowers
Hidden in the woods
Where butterflies flutter
Watched by baleful toads
Water lilies on the pond
Where dragonfly soar
Hush says the wind
Over the treetops
The smell of rain
Sudden drops
Clouds over blue
Rainbow hues
My home
In my dream
Im there again
Don’t stop the lullaby
Just for a while
Bring me Home.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 16th September 2013 11:51pm
A Magical Interlude
away from home
small lonely and afraid
shivering with fever
on decks of cardboard
silent tears wishing hard
for some relief
painkiller at least
to bring the fever down
praying for surcease
let me die O Lord
hunger and pain
won't exist in heaven
Deep sleep ensued
dreamt of a proper bed
and a table of food
was so happy in that dream
woke up tired
but with fever gone
found a fiver in my jeans
had a feast in a bowl
Prayers answered after all
I knew it was magical.
small lonely and afraid
shivering with fever
on decks of cardboard
silent tears wishing hard
for some relief
painkiller at least
to bring the fever down
praying for surcease
let me die O Lord
hunger and pain
won't exist in heaven
Deep sleep ensued
dreamt of a proper bed
and a table of food
was so happy in that dream
woke up tired
but with fever gone
found a fiver in my jeans
had a feast in a bowl
Prayers answered after all
I knew it was magical.
Published 26th September 2014 8:24am
A monologue from Konzentrationslager Auschwitz
I look towards the sky
Such a dreary day
And yet I can pray
To the Lord, My God
Yahweh, Adonai, El-shaddai
God of my Father
Deliver me now, O Lord
Hear my plea your child
One of the chosen
Of the Tribe of Benjamin
Help me now My God
Have Mercy on us
The pogrom is again with us
Lend us your shield of fire
My son, my son!
Proud to wear the Star
But he has gone now
To the dungeon
Let him have his heaven with you
Tonight he will cross
To the Other side
They come for me now
I hear my brother Aaron
I hear my brother Shmule
The thuds of our conqueror’s boots resound
This evening I join my beloved
From this Gehenna to my Lord
I feel the prod of guns on my back
I am naked, the vents are open
The gas permeates from above
‘Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one!
May His great name be blessed for ever, and to all eternity
Blessed be His name, whose glorious kingdom is forever
May His great name be exalted and sanctified
In God's great name in the world
which He created according to His will!’
Such a dreary day
And yet I can pray
To the Lord, My God
Yahweh, Adonai, El-shaddai
God of my Father
Deliver me now, O Lord
Hear my plea your child
One of the chosen
Of the Tribe of Benjamin
Help me now My God
Have Mercy on us
The pogrom is again with us
Lend us your shield of fire
My son, my son!
Proud to wear the Star
But he has gone now
To the dungeon
Let him have his heaven with you
Tonight he will cross
To the Other side
They come for me now
I hear my brother Aaron
I hear my brother Shmule
The thuds of our conqueror’s boots resound
This evening I join my beloved
From this Gehenna to my Lord
I feel the prod of guns on my back
I am naked, the vents are open
The gas permeates from above
‘Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one!
May His great name be blessed for ever, and to all eternity
Blessed be His name, whose glorious kingdom is forever
May His great name be exalted and sanctified
In God's great name in the world
which He created according to His will!’
Published 14th October 2012 6:51am
A monologue from Konzentrationslager Auschwitz Part II
With the swift cut of my scalpel
With the prod of my knife
I can see wonders in this body
Once a breathing, living human
He was a Jew, what a shame
Such a fine human specimen
To be named Moishe…
This woman Sarah
Her womb may produce no more
For to perpetuate this race
Of cursed people
they must all die
women shall not procreate
She screams, this woman
This man on this grill
Over a slow fire
I wonder how long he takes
To die
Never mind I may send him
To the dungeon to fry
Makes my work easier
The Angel of Death is here
I wonder what he wants
To hook up sixty pounds of flesh
Or prod a Jew for his stew
And see how long it takes a man to boil
I see he picks a set of twins
So cute and so doomed
I am done for the day
I will look at the dumpsite
To see how far it is full
They may want to dig another hole
And fill this one to the brim
Now if they dig a swimming pool
Wonder how many skeletons will float….
With the prod of my knife
I can see wonders in this body
Once a breathing, living human
He was a Jew, what a shame
Such a fine human specimen
To be named Moishe…
This woman Sarah
Her womb may produce no more
For to perpetuate this race
Of cursed people
they must all die
women shall not procreate
She screams, this woman
This man on this grill
Over a slow fire
I wonder how long he takes
To die
Never mind I may send him
To the dungeon to fry
Makes my work easier
The Angel of Death is here
I wonder what he wants
To hook up sixty pounds of flesh
Or prod a Jew for his stew
And see how long it takes a man to boil
I see he picks a set of twins
So cute and so doomed
I am done for the day
I will look at the dumpsite
To see how far it is full
They may want to dig another hole
And fill this one to the brim
Now if they dig a swimming pool
Wonder how many skeletons will float….
Published 14th October 2012 6:53am
A Mysterious Encounter
thunder clapped and lightning flashed
smell of ozone in the air
then the rain began to fall
buckets of it not a drizzle
running as hard as she could
towards the shelter in the wood
just a few metres off the road
gasping she made it inside
a cough startled her
looking around she saw a man
shivering cold in wet clothes
he smiled at her saying sorry
she sat on the floor
of the leaky hut
they looked at each other
listening to the falling rain
his name was Jim, aged of 30
had a scar on his cheek
his dad once punched him
for some mistakes long ago
she laughed at his jokes
listen to his tale of faraway land
how he ended up at the hut
she never thought to ask
the man reclined against the wall
looking tired and unwell
she listened to the rain
as he went to sleep
dusk came and she woke up
the day was sweetly darkening
she looked around for Jim
he was gone like silent air
she skipped happily home
her mother gave her an earful
for her wet uniform and books
late from school again
she never told anyone
of meeting the man in the hut
one day she accidentally stumbled
on a lone gravestone just nearby
a suicide, he was never buried
in hallowed ground
he killed himself for losing
his sweetheart and baby girl
he drove his car into a tree
when he was very drunk
celebrating his fifth anniversary
he killed his family.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. Thank you for reading*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 1st November 2014 4:58pm
smell of ozone in the air
then the rain began to fall
buckets of it not a drizzle
running as hard as she could
towards the shelter in the wood
just a few metres off the road
gasping she made it inside
a cough startled her
looking around she saw a man
shivering cold in wet clothes
he smiled at her saying sorry
she sat on the floor
of the leaky hut
they looked at each other
listening to the falling rain
his name was Jim, aged of 30
had a scar on his cheek
his dad once punched him
for some mistakes long ago
she laughed at his jokes
listen to his tale of faraway land
how he ended up at the hut
she never thought to ask
the man reclined against the wall
looking tired and unwell
she listened to the rain
as he went to sleep
dusk came and she woke up
the day was sweetly darkening
she looked around for Jim
he was gone like silent air
she skipped happily home
her mother gave her an earful
for her wet uniform and books
late from school again
she never told anyone
of meeting the man in the hut
one day she accidentally stumbled
on a lone gravestone just nearby
a suicide, he was never buried
in hallowed ground
he killed himself for losing
his sweetheart and baby girl
he drove his car into a tree
when he was very drunk
celebrating his fifth anniversary
he killed his family.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. Thank you for reading*
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 1st November 2014 4:58pm
A New Dawn
Here comes a new dawn
The hues of morn
Colours the eastern sky
Freshness of air
Crisps and cool
A joy to see and feel
Everyday
But not today
She turns over
Tears on her pillow
Pulls the blanket closer
No answering tug today
No mumbles of protest
Or hands on her hip
Or playful tug on her nightie
Or night breathe on her cheeks
She closes her eyes
as a little girl snuggles
wriggling into her worn arms
no more waking up
to make coffee
no more joy in making bread
on the old stove
or eating a man’s bad cooking
She never wants to get up
To see the crowd they made
Through forty years of love
Nine girls with nine grooms
Twenty-five grandchildren
Worn, he had slipped away
To the land
beyond the mountain
She hopes he remembers
The welcome mat
When she comes.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 19th June 2013 10:24am
The hues of morn
Colours the eastern sky
Freshness of air
Crisps and cool
A joy to see and feel
Everyday
But not today
She turns over
Tears on her pillow
Pulls the blanket closer
No answering tug today
No mumbles of protest
Or hands on her hip
Or playful tug on her nightie
Or night breathe on her cheeks
She closes her eyes
as a little girl snuggles
wriggling into her worn arms
no more waking up
to make coffee
no more joy in making bread
on the old stove
or eating a man’s bad cooking
She never wants to get up
To see the crowd they made
Through forty years of love
Nine girls with nine grooms
Twenty-five grandchildren
Worn, he had slipped away
To the land
beyond the mountain
She hopes he remembers
The welcome mat
When she comes.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 19th June 2013 10:24am
A Pain Remembered
Until next time
he says as he walks away
looking after him
she smiles brightly
not sure if he will look back
sadness encircles her heart
its healing
doesn't matter anymore
and the band around
her hurts break
her heart pulses
and shifts a little
blocks her throat
and moisten her eyes
her lips quivers
not that he is leaving
but that her feelings
are ashes under
a remembered pain
his goodbye a truth
Only to her.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 8th December 2014 3:40am
he says as he walks away
looking after him
she smiles brightly
not sure if he will look back
sadness encircles her heart
its healing
doesn't matter anymore
and the band around
her hurts break
her heart pulses
and shifts a little
blocks her throat
and moisten her eyes
her lips quivers
not that he is leaving
but that her feelings
are ashes under
a remembered pain
his goodbye a truth
Only to her.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published 8th December 2014 3:40am
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