Ghost slaying

Sometimes you find it necessary to walk back where they reside
For there’s only so long that it works,  hiding
Not always needed to be able to go revisit
The bad stuff I found can be exorcised mostly
So similar are they to any night time haunting
Turn a corner and see a former life living there
And it has to be given the nod a simple action
That it existed in the other world
But it may be close enough to touch while it’s a light year away
Give it gentle acknowledgement of being there
Once
Then gently wish it peace and be gone
It will take it’s leave only if you allow it
Let it go free to float like a feather blown on the wind
Deep breath in and out fill you with newness
No need to forget,  but don’t live there.
Let ghosts be slain if they bring pain.
Choose your energy to be from the heart
Ensure it’s not fighting the painful demons of long ago.

Ailsa
©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015

Healing

The words wash over me, cleansing, healing
Filling in the cracks and chips that time has made
Not one syllable do I know from a spoken language
Or at least that I have been taught by any man
But my soul accepts their soothing
It tells me I understand when I should not
And that it does not matter
For what are words but an expression of the soul
If the soul could not be heard in all dialects and none
In any language and many
We are alone all of us,  forever.
So I allow the ancient words of all our ancestors
To enter and teach me to be
Just to be still to quiet my mind

Ailsa
©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015

Slipping into light

She slipped and slid towards the precipice her body cold
As fear broke out and saturated her in a film of sweat
He smiled as he kept pushing, nudging her over
The edge ever closer.
When she had little left to throw aside in hope
She began to wonder aloud at her own fear
He taunted, teased that she had nothing, was nothing
Whose guidance would she seek on the way down?
Out of the world she knew into the realms of the unknown
And she would have to crawl back if, just if
She managed to break her fall after the final push
The last thought she had before the final push
Was not of survival
But of even in falling she could sink no lower
Lose nothing else
As he came to push the last time she stepped
Backwards over the edge and the wind carried her
As though on a downy coverlet
To a place not safe, but free of the constraints
That had held her fast and she felt lighter than ever before.

Ailsa
©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015

The cat and the seagull

Such vivid, multi coloured dreams that swish and swirl

As she rests at night her work is only just beginning

For as much as she tries to turn away her eyes from the impending storm 

They take on a will of their own

Draw her back to where they demand her vision be trained

Momentarily, she sees only a wave, spray from the sea

Her mind clearing, stubborn heart softening she watches from within

And for the first time she sees , where it was hidden in plain sight 

The seagulls call out warnings to one another ‘stay back’

Braver souls scream, screech and carry on their daily battle

With the cat in hiding 

No ordinary feline that sits on the window seat purring 

She is the cat who can calm, charm the storm cat 

Making him over into the kitten he was many moons ago 

While one lonely seagull sits on a cliff side, 

Unsure of what he did so wrong that he is punished by loneliness 

Till the time they both take their eternal rest 

But will they ? Their memories linger after they depart the earth 

You may see them around the village 

One flying higher than possible for a gull

The other singing calming, hypnotic lullabies to the storm cat.
©Ailsa Cawley Poetry 2015
*This is a compilation and tribute to the books Jonathan Livingston Seagull and The Mousehole Cat by Richard Bach and Antonia Barber/Nicola Bayley respectively*

The unspeakable truth

Your words speak of your yearning to know every single part of me, 

And almost tempted am I to pour forth more

So many more secret parts I have played, lives lived

Than your eyes tell me to give freely to you. 

I eke out snippets here and there to ease digestion

Give you the chance to run which you will one day, I feel the chill wind

Void cajoling, pleading that I lie instead of giving truth 

If this can be escaped with honour and no honesty you will sigh

Content that your vision isn’t altered beyond reckoning

Blundering on as I do, the lie will not lay pleasantly 

And be petted , stroked into submission at your feet 

The truth they say will always out, so better now than …. 

Your eyes change from terror to anger as the game is spoiled

It is all of my doing, but rather the unspeakable truth 

Than a vipers nest of indigestible lies to bite me when they choose.
©Ailsa Cawley Poetry 2015

Arianna

She rode the wind that danced upon the waves
Flaxen hair trailing out like the tendrils of an octopus
Sapphire eyes that shone as beacons to lost ships
And sparks shooting from her slight body
So many her whole body seemed to have a current of it’s very own making.
A hand in front of her pointing out to sea
Her fingers straight and commanding the very elements
Towards the shores an old man watches transfixed
As the beautiful maiden in the shimmering garment comes closer
He sighs as she reaches the surf line separating sea from sand
Sleepy now his head nods as a voice as smooth as liquid silver
Speaks to urge rest
He tries to fight like a child at bed time
Urgently she says ‘if you see me I cease to exist my friend ‘
Obediently his eyes close despite his minds protest
He wakes,  and she is nowhere to be seen.
Never finds out in waking hours who she was
But on the sand he hears a whispered ‘thank you ‘

Ailsa
©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015

Standing by

They walk by unnoticed by some at their side
Quiet support always there unwavering
And sometimes because their profile is kept so low
Almost secret to the point of being missed
Until it isn’t there because they feel used,  rejected
It can be done by omission not meaning to harm
And slowly,  silently you take a step back and another
Until you fall so far behind that you lose sight of….
The person who was always by your side,  and at your back
Sometimes you feel like taking a step back to find out
Exactly who you are everyone wanting a piece
Some that don’t even exist in you
But are wishing thoughts of who you would be
And the pressures build till you disappear
In a sea of other people’s wants
Press down,  down,  and then you force your way
To the surface and break through taking a gasping breath
Grasping for a lifeline and finding someone
The one who steadfastly stood by,  silently
Waiting at your side till YOU returned.
I have.

Ailsa
©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015

Elevated beyond 

Their eyes met, as eyes tend to across a crowded bar 

She knew that this was right, well okay maybe on a Saturday 
It advanced and the glances became scrutiny 

Sometimes uncomfortable peering into her soul without permission scrutiny 

But then he’d smile taking her measure slowly with his eyes 

And she’d brush aside the doubts, put them in a trunk 

It grew to such a size you could have fit a body in that wooden casket 

Looking for all the world how she’d always imagined a pirates treasure trove to be 

There were glimmers at the corners where it was fastened with chains 

Yet still he peered at her with hooded eyes giving away nothing 

She awoke cold and in the dark of night , a welcome feeling 

Wondering why the moon looked so deliciously close 

Finding as she went to explore that her feet had become stuck fast.

Looking down she saw they were entrenched in stone 

And she stood atop a monument, a pedestal 

She shouted to him as he chiseled the stone below 

Help me down, I seem stuck on this platform, it’s pretty and all but…

I built it for you, of you after filing off the rough parts came an angry retort 

It was then she remembered the chest with the best of her in it 

She couldn’t reach so she willed those parts to come back 

Below he still frantically chiseled and polished 

Eventually the chest was emptied but the contents had altered 

Shoving them roughly inside with the chest shrinking to nothingness 

The chain turned to a rope and she reached the ground 

I elevated you beyond…..he said 

Yes but I wanted to stay here and not be an immortal impossible goddess 

She replied over her shoulder as she departed.

Eggshell heart

I see them trample on your eggshell heart,
Without a care of whether it will break.
My instinct to dash forth and protect ricochets in my mind,
But I know I cannot and to stand still until you call
Or waver and glance needing reassurance that the shell has not broken,
At least not beyond repair this time.
It grows stronger, tougher every onslaught
But it shouldn’t have to,  it shouldn’t.
I swallow my anger for that helps no-one
Least of all you who needs my heart to heal the cracks
You try to cover in your eggshell heart.

Ailsa
©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015

Fear the feeling of difference

You were offered something bright and shiny, it wasn’t Gold

But never were you told it was, just that it meant a new horizon

Where the pot of Gold and more, lay yours for the taking.

Your head told you lies, that you couldn’t do it alone, alone, alone,

That word tolled like a bell in your head, clanging out the possibility of future

Dully moving away, thankfully saying no to the changes

The words the bell kept saying, “fear the feeling of difference, fear it well,

you cannot be different, “

and you nodded, swallowing the words whole, drinking the pain

Bitter you’re told, because it has to be when you try and think of change.

Now drink your medicine, ease those endless thoughts if you just drink,

close, close, close your mind to future. Cut off your chances.

If you’re standing still, statue like, you don’t need to fear the feeling of difference.

%d bloggers like this: