Originally one of my micro poems on Twitter the prompt word Oblivion (#TastyPoem) was the inspiration for this one.
She paused, what was it, what was it she could almost see,
Almost feel, to touch, an unsteady, feeling; uncertainty.
But an excitement too, with her stomach floating high
But her heart falling heavy, she exhaled with an overwhelming cry
As if from nowhere her eyes filled with tears - un-cried
It was as if she was looking on, not in but outside.
Then it was clear, in a moment she knew,
Her pattern of remembrance was right on cue.The divine coloured crimson caught in a crystal beam,
Reminded her of him; how intoxicating, he had been.
Her oblivion, her delight, her home and her man
Now lost to her and this world, this was never in their plan.
Every now and again, she'd return to this moment and smile
To sit and be with him, let her self dream, just for a while.The wine's bouquet held a memory, like he was there,
# Permanent link to The gift (#TastyPoem)
She could almost feel him run his fingers through her hair,
Then a laugh began to bubble in the back of her throat,
This cocktail of emotions, and only one she could note,
Love.
She raised the glass to her lips with a triumphant lift
Liquid swirls and her heart takes it in; a living memory, like a gift.
A poem from the point of view of post-break-up, trying to choose to move on.
It would be so easy to hate you
# Permanent link to Because I choose
Or the way you make me feel
The way you make it all okay
Whilst my heart breaks
- But I can't
It would be so helpful to be angry
Or shout and cry out and kneel
The way I forgive you on sight
Whilst my heart breaks
- But it isn't
A free-written poem about a journey through a final goodbye to a loved one, as part of a Grand Guignol suite of monologues in poetic and free verse 'Cabaret of Confessions'
Published on Spillwords in 2016
As she gazes into her eyes can she see the pain,
Will she see the shadows, will she see the shame,
She can see the love, she can see the light,
She can feel the pull, feel her chest coiled tight,
She hopes her heart won't break as she tears away,
Will she hear it crack and feel her fingertips stray,
As they grasp onto the moment that's no longer real
As they clutch for hands that can no longer feel.Lost reaches — brush nothing, her heart begins to flake
Her soul hopes for sleep and the longing lays awake.
Would she really be missed, her mind starts to break
To feel like she belongs, what would it take...Love like thunder, as light and as fickle as the promises now unspoken.
# Permanent link to A goodbye, broken
Scribbles of an insomniac 