There are often times that I think that I could never let this go. That I will carry this love for eternity; hidden, braved and simmering quietly amongst the hum-drum of everyday life. There are other things that are offered. The six cups show me my options, yet I throw cloth over them and pay no attention. They levitate and dance around me and I simply turn away. The contents of them make me feel sick and stale, through to my very core. That one cup, the seventh vessel, bubbles alone in the corner. No cloth covering its contents, the vapours of hope, want and need rising with the rhythm of a beating heart. I see the vapour condense and carefully drip down the wall, refilling the chalice with reborn dreams. As I turn my thoughts to it again and again, I hear the clanging of metal hit the floor as sensibility crashes and burns. The cloths soaked with the blood of sweat and tears, the guilded sparkle, tarnished and worn. Abandon all hope, ye who enter this place. The corners are bright but unattainable.
~ Leccie aka SRWB aka Defyance 2008
Thursday, 18 December 2008
Monday, 29 September 2008
Table
My will to live free
gives me this strength
It is not pure freedom
in selfish wants
but freedom from pain
and uncertainty and wondering
In making a move myself
and arranging the table
as I see fit
I will entertain
on my own terms
and if you need to eat
you must work hard
and show me how much
you really want the nourishment
as you distrusted a meal once
I now distrust your need for it
no more twisting questions
and safe let-downs
in stages of gradual abandonment
I break myself away from bonds
and the pull of a love unrequited
The centre piece of my space
is a clear cut evergreen spray
of all your confusion
with a translation in technicolor blooms
that shout louder as the candle glows
Wax drips smear foliage unkind
and my attention accepts
the soft fragrant petals of love
Love for myself
So this is me... and where I will be
Watch carefully now
My location will change soon
and my heart will be my own.
~ Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2008
gives me this strength
It is not pure freedom
in selfish wants
but freedom from pain
and uncertainty and wondering
In making a move myself
and arranging the table
as I see fit
I will entertain
on my own terms
and if you need to eat
you must work hard
and show me how much
you really want the nourishment
as you distrusted a meal once
I now distrust your need for it
no more twisting questions
and safe let-downs
in stages of gradual abandonment
I break myself away from bonds
and the pull of a love unrequited
The centre piece of my space
is a clear cut evergreen spray
of all your confusion
with a translation in technicolor blooms
that shout louder as the candle glows
Wax drips smear foliage unkind
and my attention accepts
the soft fragrant petals of love
Love for myself
So this is me... and where I will be
Watch carefully now
My location will change soon
and my heart will be my own.
~ Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2008
Saturday, 27 September 2008
Double Knit
I have a vision
Of boarding house madness
and feline, prowling company
Of wiry roots in silver hair
that blends to nicotine beige in lengths
Of greasepaint smeared in theatrical rage
on leathered skin and pinched, sunken face
Of flouncing nylon, in layers of unneccessary kitsch
built up from corsets, bandages, bits of silk
and hand knitted sleeves keeping chill from old bones
Of nourishing cats with prime cut beef
while they rip, scratch and tear
at old furniture gathered from years of stories.
Garish colours sit in a twilight life
as a walk to the shop fulfills all that is left
Licking furious, pink stained lips
as the knitting needles start their train track
click clack, click clack
dont think... dont stop
click clack... train track
more sleeves to adorn the layers of years
to keep out the cold and old, bitter pain
They're comfortable though
Made with determination and love
To see out these days...
These empty, trivial days
in numb and cat piss- polyester dreams
and high tension...
...double knit
...and in prelude to this
memories of love gained and lost
of heart given and fulfilled
with every need and want
and then snatched away in seconds
of doubt, pain, confusion and panic
And if love was felt in such purity
for the first and only time
I dare not find it again
So this is why I have my vision
of cat-piss life
My heart clad in blackest coal
and coldest steel
If what I feel now is love and care
then the pain I feel equals
what was given and taken away
I don't want it back... ever again
I will live in beige nondescript
and grey-mist of mundane
I could love again
I could give my warm heart
repeatedly... until the nails
and band aids and cat-gut stitches
can no longer hold the wounds of years
The gaping holes are left
where someone's truthful
heart should have been
The path that sprawls and meanders
...through a pain-filled ventricular abyss
into which I fall... again and again
and in time I will grow hardened
to the rocks of life and slipping sand
But to walk those rocks
and let go of these hopeful grains
I cannot give an inch
Dare not!
Nor smile in any direction
Lest those bonds that wrap my fragile heart
be broken again
and exposed.
~ Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2008
Of boarding house madness
and feline, prowling company
Of wiry roots in silver hair
that blends to nicotine beige in lengths
Of greasepaint smeared in theatrical rage
on leathered skin and pinched, sunken face
Of flouncing nylon, in layers of unneccessary kitsch
built up from corsets, bandages, bits of silk
and hand knitted sleeves keeping chill from old bones
Of nourishing cats with prime cut beef
while they rip, scratch and tear
at old furniture gathered from years of stories.
Garish colours sit in a twilight life
as a walk to the shop fulfills all that is left
Licking furious, pink stained lips
as the knitting needles start their train track
click clack, click clack
dont think... dont stop
click clack... train track
more sleeves to adorn the layers of years
to keep out the cold and old, bitter pain
They're comfortable though
Made with determination and love
To see out these days...
These empty, trivial days
in numb and cat piss- polyester dreams
and high tension...
...double knit
...and in prelude to this
memories of love gained and lost
of heart given and fulfilled
with every need and want
and then snatched away in seconds
of doubt, pain, confusion and panic
And if love was felt in such purity
for the first and only time
I dare not find it again
So this is why I have my vision
of cat-piss life
My heart clad in blackest coal
and coldest steel
If what I feel now is love and care
then the pain I feel equals
what was given and taken away
I don't want it back... ever again
I will live in beige nondescript
and grey-mist of mundane
I could love again
I could give my warm heart
repeatedly... until the nails
and band aids and cat-gut stitches
can no longer hold the wounds of years
The gaping holes are left
where someone's truthful
heart should have been
The path that sprawls and meanders
...through a pain-filled ventricular abyss
into which I fall... again and again
and in time I will grow hardened
to the rocks of life and slipping sand
But to walk those rocks
and let go of these hopeful grains
I cannot give an inch
Dare not!
Nor smile in any direction
Lest those bonds that wrap my fragile heart
be broken again
and exposed.
~ Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2008
Not Enough
It seems that love is not enough
to pull us through right now
If my love cannot heal your pain
I can do nothing more... just wait
It seems that courage is scarce
and decisions are made for others
our wants and needs are put on the shelf
I can do nothing more.... just hope
It seems that I cannot hold on to this
because it is good and true and warm
I would heal you and love you, make you whole
I can do nothing more... just watch
It seems that I will be that watcher
the one who loves from afar
but as long as happiness is in your life
I can do nothing more.... at all
~Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SWRB) 2008
to pull us through right now
If my love cannot heal your pain
I can do nothing more... just wait
It seems that courage is scarce
and decisions are made for others
our wants and needs are put on the shelf
I can do nothing more.... just hope
It seems that I cannot hold on to this
because it is good and true and warm
I would heal you and love you, make you whole
I can do nothing more... just watch
It seems that I will be that watcher
the one who loves from afar
but as long as happiness is in your life
I can do nothing more.... at all
~Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SWRB) 2008
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