The poems and art featured here all reflect these emotions. Every image and poem shows awareness, determination and strength.
I chose Sybille’s poem Listen to start off the features, as it so powerfully screamed our need to be REAL. I teamed it with Tamarra’s amazing image, Maid, Mother & Crone . Not an obvious paring, but in both the image and the poem, we are celebrating our own realities, and rejecting the stereotypes.
MAID MOTHER CRONE by © Tammera
Listen by © Sybille Sterk
we play our roles as proscribed
names become labels of the things we do
echoes of you and me fade to grey
ghosts of a brighter past float from room to room
sounds of a different life wither and die
nothing remains and nothing is what it seems
the voices on TV and cars rushing by
the wind howling and birds singing
the stair creaking and the silent tears
Broken by Berns, and Shackles by Laura Broussard, seemed to go so well together. The dramatic and powerful image showing to me what happens when we are shackled by others. Laura’s emotive poem is equally strong in her determination not to let this happen any more.
Broken… by © Berns
Only you and I, know the answers.
You entrap me.
Yes, you……., shackles…..
I am getting ready to throw you to the curb.
..... much longer.
and make you into a beautiful necklace, ....
I will make you into a beautiful necklace.
I will take the power away from you.
Feel the heat of the smelting pot,........
as I pour you into a beautiful cast, .........
and wear you around my neck,
as a reminder of all the shit, .........
you have put me through.
I won’t be shackled by you any longer.
I will change you,
and you will be the beautiful reminder ……..
around my neck.
I by © dmcart
Hidden Needle In The Haystack by © Jenifer De Bellis
The one blowing in the wind while the world rushes by,
reaching, always reaching for a sky beyond my reach.
Waiting in the masses of loneliness to be the lucky chosen one,
squirming, always squirming for a chance just out of reach.
Summing the equation’s three parts doesn’t equal the whole –
longing, always longing for something to add up right.
swimming while struggling to stay afloat in uncharted waters,
treading, always treading just outside the restricted areas.
That one was bought for a quarter, eaten with a knife and fork,
and her crumbs became lost at sea once the bag flew away.
feminine by © moyo
No excuse me
Just right there
Dropping the inkwell
Into my mind
Dispersing the thoughts
I have tried and failed
To keep bottled up
Won’t take this away
And bring back my once upon a time
Or I wonder about this ,that and oh the other
Masquerade for ?
I dress in the same clothes
I fall asleep in
My face bare
With no trace of beauty left
I want to say to those who only
Took me at face value
I am decaying.
and just kill time to feel
the melancholy that used to be
Yesterday by © Geraldine (Gezza) Maddrell
Daisy Daunted by © Cynthia Lund Torroll
They have turned inward, slightly curled
and yellowed on the edges.
from years of smoke and sedative
and lack of air and light.
The breath from my lungs
It is a struggle to sit
this close, to hold her hand
and not slump also.
and float on top, more the
observer – sending care and pats
of simple reassurance.
thirty minutes of diversion -
no conversation of
any weight or effort -
just some eye locks
to start the shift.
a few drops do it.
She is funny,
when she forgets who
I teamed this with the powerful image from m-mission which I think is a real motivator for us all. m-mission explains…”VENUS HAIR..RUTILATED QUARTZ KNOWN AS THE ILLUMINATOR OF THE SOUL.” I think that both the image and the poem illuminates our struggles and, hopefully, give us the energy and motivation to keep going, however hard the odds.
THE ILLUMINATOR by © m-mission
My Way by © Maggie Summers
so very hard
to be everything you wanted me to be
it’s not my fault
it’s just the way
with a hated faceless stranger
for your attention
nor hide in the shadow
you keep me in
while you decide if
I am worth bringing out
into the light
to realise how brightly I shine
then you can’t be looking
I let go of the need to need
and I let go
of the desperate longing