Unusual preference

What is it, where is it, how can it be?
That you look at him in preference to me
What is it, where is it, how can you say
You don’t love me and you’ve called it a day
What is it, how is it,
Why does it matter?
That I once had your love but it’s now in tatters
Why do you look on me with disdain
I bought you flowers once, that’s surely a gain
I’ve taken all I could in every way
Trodden on feelings night and day
If you’ll just leave him, give me another chance
It’ll be fine if we just lead the same old dance
How can you say you no longer care?
Can’t you see MY life was always unfair?
So give me a chance, I promise I’ll bring
A new-old life with a much worse sting!!
Just tell me one thing, I’ll leave you alone
I’ll stay away from you, at least never phone
What is it, where is it how can it be
That you look at HIM in preference to Me??

Ailsa

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Back to front

You hurl forth your words, like a stone from a slingshot
Your accuracy of so sure of
But the reaction shocks you to your core.
The smile on your face as you can’t wait to say
You’re just like your grandmother
Awaiting my denial, hot and angry
That doesn’t come
THANKYOU!!
Is my reply, and you are perplexed
At 10 I may have thought otherwise
Now, I know of her life, struggles
Of some of her reasons for being her.
If I am half the person now that she was
If there is a comparison
You expect me to be shamefaced?
For good or ill,
I can look and say I am strong, independent and have faith to follow my path
With wisdom gleaned from someone
Far wiser than me
I have gained from her my future self
What a compliment, again I thank you
Your face turns crimson
As you try to laugh off the shot back firing
In your eyes confusion
You didn’t understand a word I just said

Ailsa

Art

From Chimera Poetry 🙂

Chimera Poetry

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Artist: one who creates art

art·ist

Spelled [ahr-tist

a person who produces works in any of the arts that are primarily subject to aesthetic criteria.

2.

a person who practices one of the fine arts, especially a painter or sculptor.

3.

a person whose trade or profession requires a knowledge of design, drawing, painting, etc.: a commercial artist.

4.

a person who works in one of the performing arts, as an actor, musician, or singer; a public performer: a mime artist; an artist of the dance.

5.

a person whose work exhibits exceptional skill.

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I am an artist.

It has taken me a lifetime to say this without blushing.

Without looking around for someone sniggering.

To not say it in an affected voice or to make light of it. An artist is one who creates art.

Not only great art. Not only popular art.

Not…

View original post 579 more words

Painter

ailsacawley

We talk without the words sometimes,
Squeeze of hand or shoulder
Looking at one another, then smiling
Gentle recognition
Now we’re talking and you say things
Check no-one is around to hear
As you curse the ones you know don’t think
At all mostly
Ask if I mind these curse words, I don’t
Of course you’re aware already, just checking
Your chuckle tells me that
I wonder where all this has come from
Do you just need a sounding board?
Someone who won’t tell you
You can’t say, mustn’t think, shouldn’t feel that!!
Just the canvas on which to paint
That picture swirling in your mind
Because it torments you so
Stopping your colourful imagery for a moment
To check if I’m okay with the canvas
And how you fill it
With happiness, sadness, expletives
Observing that it’s just as it should be, you carry on
A squeeze of the…

View original post 93 more words

Painter

We talk without the words sometimes,
Squeeze of hand or shoulder
Looking at one another, then smiling
Gentle recognition
Now we’re talking and you say things
Check no-one is around to hear
As you curse the ones you know don’t think
At all mostly
Ask if I mind these curse words, I don’t
Of course you’re aware already, just checking
Your chuckle tells me that
I wonder where all this has come from
Do you just need a sounding board?
Someone who won’t tell you
You can’t say, mustn’t think, shouldn’t feel that!!
Just the canvas on which to paint
That picture swirling in your mind
Because it torments you so
Stopping your colourful imagery for a moment
To check if I’m okay with the canvas
And how you fill it
With happiness, sadness, expletives
Observing that it’s just as it should be, you carry on
A squeeze of the hand,
Looking to see who’s listening
Though frankly you have no care
Let them listen, all of them
Your anger has returned again
The painter was told how his canvas should be
He isn’t exactly sure what to do
His fuse has been lit, gunning for you!
Looking, he says what the hell do I do?
Tells me his wishes, needs my support
Calm again now
I’ve said do what YOU want, I’ll fight them all
That’s settled it now, no holding back
Be wary of crossing that sweet looking old man

Ailsa

Unaware

She appears full of knowledge
Exactly like her friends, oozing confidence
Tap at the surface gently
The marshmallow centre spills forth
Along with the anxieties,
Doubts about being enough to all
Who might expect anything from her
Her eyes cloud uncertainty
Has raised its ugly head, pulling her
This way and that
A massive tug of war takes place
Inside and out, written on her face
So boldly as if in permanent ink
Temporarily we can erase it
Though it is only hidden by a mask
None can see past
She tells herself this daily
One day when she’s grown and learned
To be the person she is inside
The mask will be discarded
Maybe forgotten
Left to disintegrate like old things do
Then she will understand that to be
herself
Is all she can be, all she needs to be
I stand idly by, observing the maelstrom within
Having travelled that journey and can do
Nothing
Except wait and watch

Ailsa

Charlotte

You were not meant to be I’m told
Why? Why you?
Did I not want you enough
Or would I have not loved, cared for, nourished you?
I would have gone to the end of the earth
In my mind’s eye I see you
Like a shadow at the corner of my vision
Catching the sun in your hair
Waiting to be seen
But I can never turn speedily enough
To see you before you are gone,
Again
I would have been there forever
But you can only watch from that place
That shadow land
I am not destined to touch your face
Not in this life

Ailsa