Tag Archives: Prose

Karmic Ruin

Mothers beware
Your maternal sins
Bide their time
As sons grow into men
 
The role of dutiful son;
the singular fatherly inheritance
His masculinity a life long performance
Of karmic violence
Without mirrors
There can be no reflection
No understanding
No compassion
 
Bitterness unleashed
On the old frail woman
Bewildered and hurt
Unable to challenge or run
She can only sit and absorb
The volcanic eruption
 
He cannot see
Ageing insists
The woman before him
Be understood differently
Without memories
She is not the same
Each sunrise is new
 
What happened in the past
Is the past
To understand this
Is to let go of the ruin
And forgive

Luvbeingadyke
 

Small

I demand attention
Am imposing and assertive
I will not be quiet
Or accept second place
I am ego
 
i don't need to be capitalised;
given an over inflated false value
i see myself as many
different but the same
i am small, human and genuine.
 
Luvbeingadyke

A Gift

Bury the sublime
The unparalleled emotion
Of soaring freedom
All but ephemeral
In its addictive sweetness
 
Bury it deep
So as not to dwell
On what is no longer
Where it can be kept safe
 
Indebted to the universe
Our paths crossed
I can savour the all consuming joy
In a heartbeat
The connection never ceases
I soar in the sublime.
 
Luvbeingadyke
 

Let’s Go Home

Conversations of the other shoppers
ebb away
I notice
your long sleek black hair
falling over your tanned bare shoulders,
your hands
pressed against the cold glass refrigerator door
bearing the weight of your day,
your eyes searching
for more than just your favourite wine
for release, peace.
You
catch my reflection in the glass
transfixed by your prostrated body,
you know that look
of rising desire
and heat,
you no longer want wine
but sweet release
surrender.
I walk toward you with clear intent
assured you are waiting,
wanting
“Let’s go home”
           Luvbeingadyke

Fool for Love

Words of promised affection
Hoping the sentiment
Will be eaten to feed another's
Insecurity
 
Who is the fool?
 
Disingenuous words veil a want
An addiction to praise
To sympathy
A gluttonous ego
 
Nothing more than a scavenger of love
Preying on a perception of weak
They are clear and the agenda
Visible
 
Someone I now, used to know
 
Luvbeingadyke

Morning Has Broken

Music that fraction too loud
Drowning my thoughts
One more thing
To add to the whirlpool of a morning
Money lost
Lost where?
I put it there, I did!
The text
Ok see ya next time I guess
What!
Did I hear the first message?
No
Was there a second attempt?
No
A call?
No
Money lost, people lost
Watch the time
Don’t lose that too
Need to pick up a coffee
Is this a good idea?
Caffeine and stress
A marriage made in hell
A calming presence
Happens upon an alcove of respite
Big old leather chairs, soft lighting
I begin to exhale
           And write

                   Luvbeingadyke

That Moment

That  moment
the truth is known
the hurt cannot find expression
in words or tears
filling my being
the hurt leaches out of my pores
dismissed, disposed, discarded
the words scaring my body in self harm
but there is no relief 
only more pain
I came with open heart and gratitude
not seeing their masks
I brought the beans
I left unknowing I never existed
I have little in common with these people
so why should I care?
          because they’re family

Luvbeingadyke

Rain

Overcast
clock ticking
rain dripping
birds nestled under the leaves
calling to one another
I’m here, I’m safe
 
wet lush and green
the rain nourishes and heals
subtly commanding reverence
movement and mood naturally adjusts
why do we keep insisting
we have the power

Luvbeingadyke

8 dec 2014

Never Nothing

hearing a minor commotion I turn around. father is berating the young boy about 6yo. the commotion keeps going and I’m not the only one noticing. same question being repeated. over and over and over. no response, none wanted. my heart begins to pound; intuition. recognising and fearing the worst. the boy raised by his wrists to where eyes meet then pushing him down with a thud. again the question. again raising the child. again pushing him down. womyn –  mother,  wife -stood there. head bowed saying and doing nothing. abuse must run in the family. I couldn’t take it any more. enough! car door slams. marching up to the wire fence. hands clenched. fury.

Oiy you! what the hell do you think you’re doing? you don’t treat a child like that!

voice projection worked well. he heard loud and clear. walking up to where I was he stood before me. with rail line and wire fence between us. he listens dutifully with hands clasped in front like a ‘good’ child; condescending bastard. all my energy used to calm my fury. reason. empathise, knowing how frustrating children can be. the need to detach from the situation and calm down. over and over it said. conversation becoming circular. can  do  no more. I go on my way. rest of the night wondering if the abuse continued. or got worse out of the public gaze. it’s always a concern whether speaking up is the right thing. the alternative is to do nothing. nothing is never acceptable. we have to give a shit. and he was challenged.

Luvbeingadyke

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