Day: June 7, 2020

The sun was very hot

I  have lost  my lingerie,oh dear
I dried it on a shrub, the sky was clear
The sun was very hot, my washing dried
I put in a bag which I can’t find

So now I wait for Amazon to bring
A parcel of white cotton underthings
I also have an ulcer on my toe
I thought it  only fair to let you know

Where are all the clothes that I have lost
While in my poetry I am engrossed?
Once my home had order and restraint
If a man came near me, he would faint

Maybe all this loss  is a defence
Keeps my mind  from wondering where he went

The change is come

The tender glance, the heart, the love displayed
Where will I find a home  now you are gone
Where in the abyss is such a place?
Where the eyes which will contain my gaze?
The voice that spoke to me can’t be replaced
At this turning point , the change will come
The tender glance, the heart, the love displayed
Where will I find a home,my love is gone?

He is no more

The heart that touched my heart I feel no more
Alone in this great space. I feel afraid
Like a conductor who has lost the Score
The soul that touched my soul I feel no more
As other orders  that soul did obey
The heart that touched my heart I feel no more
Alone in the abyss. I feel afraid

He is alive again

 

 

 

 

barn owl perched on tree
Photo by DSD on Pexels.com

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triolet#:~:text=A%20triolet%20(UK%3A%20%2F%CB%88,have%20appeared%20in%20its%20history.

 

 

The face that was familiar is no more
Yet in my dreams ,he is alive again
If ,by a fluke, his life could be restored
It would affect me like the hidden chord
If played, my own life force would go.
That one must live and one must die is plain
The face that was familiar is no more.
Yet in my dreams ,he is alive again

The baby sees but cannot speak

They tore the blanket in my pram in two
I could not sit up but I could see
Is this what older brothers often do?

I have no other memory nor a clue
I could not speak nor could I even flee
They tore the blanket in my pram in two

Ambivalent,dynamic,what’s this glue?
They fought at every chance,ignoring me
Is this what older brothers often do?

Parents were not there,that’s nothing new
Where do the feelings of the mute dwell silently?
They tore the blanket in my pram in two

Still these speech-wrecked moods descend on me
How to transform fear, indentity?
Is this what older brothers have to do?

Intense emotion feels  too sharp. though  true
The feelings push and shove inside of me
They tore my knitted blanket into two
If I’d had no brothers,I’d be who?