Tag: poetry

High

The persona that you projected

I am up here on high and bear your presence

I will grit my teeth to see gratitude

Spewing out of you and I remain high

Lofty, above you, and someone to aspire to

Accepting all adulation with a wave

Expect you to fall at my feet and you will.

Your world depends upon who sees you as special

Who will do anything to please you

Fawn over you and into line

Like little tin soldiers you watch from on high.

Apparently I dissented in the ranks

Fell out before I was told to go

Oh I can see all the cracks, chinks in armour

I’d rather be here on the outside

Than there on your fake high

Wondering how far it’s going to be

On the way down to the bottom.

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020

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The world he’s locked in

His stories are those of a person persuaded

That life has passed him by

People crushing his spirit and grinding

Their heels into his head

Because he isn’t what was expected.

So he chooses the path of least resistance

Pressing a button that destroys his world

Because he’s afraid of losing happiness

Fighting it from happening is easier

Than the disappointment as it walks away.

He’s tired of hiding behind the shell of pretence

That he’s so carefully constructed

To show the world the clown who loses

But it’s there flickering , the light

That’s now refusing to be extinguished

Now he knows some people believe in him.

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020

The stuff inside

Inside I know so much about things

But people see a person wasted

I’m in turmoil as I try to get through

Knowing what I know about myself

Knowing what people think of me.

Some look and turn away

From the person they’re sure they know

Judge me on my exterior facade

It’s tough and harder by the day

Keeping a mask in place for you all.

Some people just see the man underneath

But most see someone they’re scared of being

Like my life, hurt is contagious

Cross the road he’s coming

Dodge him or you catch his plague

I’m still battling my demons and I might lose

If I don’t have the people who will pass

The time of day and let me know

They see me really see me

Not the damn bogeyman out to get them.

I don’t expect your help I’m a man in turmoil

And we’re supposed to just deal with it.

I can’t. I can’t.

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020

Bright one

Blessings to you from the earth

This Brigids day morning

Dawn of the new day

And new season has sprung.

Blessings to you from the wind

On which your poetry carries

Far and wide, land to land.

Watching over the people who see

That the maiden breathes warm air

Over flowers for land

Be they edible or medicine

Blessings from the bright one

Brigid sends blessings among you

As water runs clear and cool

The babies will come now winter ends

All hail Brigid bringing her blessings

To you bright one.

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry 2020

If you can’t say something nice

I have the words ringing in my head

Words I’ve tried to live by

If you can’t say something nice then

Don’t say anything at all.

Yet ricocheting round inside is the glee

That dripped from your voice

As you remind me that this time

You’re in with the cool kids

That you were always desperate to join

A game of who has one upmanship

You say that you’re doing a charitable act

Of friendship for someone else

All you want is to pass the gossip on

And to say I was there because I am more

Than you like I always was.

I’m not surprised at the snub it’s not important

It’s your pleasure that cut more deeply

Yet you’ve not got a clue

Or maybe you have.

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry 2020

The Muse

The Muse

Iridescence, voluptuous, careen 3 words challenge

She lies on the chaise aware of his eyes

Voluptuous yet feeling conspicuous

Her nudity almost complete

A vague smile says she’s awaiting censure

He is watching yet probing gaze

Making her feel beautiful yet she knows

This painting will come to an end.

He concentrates trying to capture her eyes

They radiate iridescence blue, green, grey

And still he sees her beauty stills him

She’s unaware, self conscious, pinkened

His scrutiny almost clinical

As he feels he’s likely to careen towards her

Telling her she sparkles with beauty.

She is his muse. He wants her to stay.

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2019

The charm

Sat in the boat moonlight flickers

Hauling at the oars

My young years the reason I’m given

The work of the donkey

Seventeen is what I told them

No soul here knows me

shall keep it so till the sea leaves my blood.

We row till my arms are screaming in pain

Begging for rest and warmth

I need to do this for proof of a life

A secret to know when I’m old that I did

Something different even for a while

Lucky that I’m tall for thirteen

As we load our shipwreck spoils to sell

No bodies were there no man harmed

I shiver in relief and grin

Lad, you can go when we hit the downs

And don’t turn back will you?

Our secret is not yours to have yet you see?

I nod and give a gruff reply

Race away across the beach and up

Into the sands hood pulled up breath ragged

starting to slow now I know I did it

They didn’t even guess they had a bad luck charm

They took a girl to sea.

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry 2019

#Y’sWords. #poetryprompt #DavidBeaverArt

Death is a mercy, sometimes.

I wrote this after watching a programme which was about a family but PTSD features heavily and this is what came out!

He was a speaker with animals

before the destruction

Feeding them, knowing their ways

Before the fodder was him.

Sent underground to set traps

For an unwitting enemy

A generals mind in foot soldiers body

The damning combination.

A world destroyed a mind fragmented

By bangs, shells, sounds, screams

Some are his own

When he wakes from the sleep

That he tries never to have

Nightmares worse than any day can conjure

He doesn’t speak of what happened

The words are not yet invented

Distractions, diversions, plans

All to keep his mind from being idle

So the torture stays away

He is there but not there

A spectre in his own life

This living breathing moving ghost

Who everyone knows

Yet nobody understands he’s locked in

Always in the terror of then

The time he cannot speak of

He is voiceless and it’s all there

Waiting to explode

At the back of his mind is a thought

Humming louder daily

Death is a mercy, sometimes.

Ailsa
©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2019

A wound too far

Hands gripping tightly so I see

Bone crunching bone

Nobody is talking about anything

Unless you’re the topic

And if they laugh it’s at you

You’re sure because it’s what they do.

She’s asks you quietly why they would

Eyes narrow in anger, suspicion

Turned on her because her words

Are what will always be known

Her opinions the most eminent

And she has something for all seasons

It matters not if it’s cutting, hurtful.

The girl turns away sighing

Another battle of wills to try and say

That the world doesn’t not turn

Around one woman or man

Every thought not about her

Still sure the whispers and smiles

The laughter is aimed at you.

From this distance I see the girl

Trying not to sigh or show anything

Which will be misconstrued or hurled

To her head at a later date

When you decide to deride her

Once more for not being the captive

Who is grateful for her tongues captivity

At some point she knows very soon

She will walk away not to return

Her binds have been broken

With your last savage words that tore

One wound too many.

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2019

Chameleon

Opinions change to match the mood

Colours nailed to your mast have

Disappeared in a wink if you can see

A chance for getting something

Anything even if you don’t want it

It’s something gained to be shelved

With the dust and dirt you held onto

In case it came in handy.

Control of others your endgame

By play acting at being guileless

You were taught by a master of deceit

And you’re proud of the ability

To change for the audience

Putting on a coat that says you’re confused

Or a shawl that says I’m determined

And all the while there’s no real you left.

You forgot who you were or could be

When you decided to play the system

To suck everything dry from anyone

Willing to give a drop to the vampiric

Little knowing they’d be slowly worn

Away to nothing by a smiling face saying

It’s your fault for living better lives than me

As the chameleon changes once more.

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2019

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