His Decorated Soldier

I attached pins to his words;

wore them like badges

sewn onto my breast.

Accomplishments, they were.

Skills attributed

to an adherence

of another’s will.

Another’s way of being.

A projected accolade

to which I conformed,

reflecting nothing more

than his desires;

a mirror of his intentions.

How proud I had been,

to be his decorated soldier.

My medals shining

more brightly than my heart.

The velvet lined box,

taking pride of place

above and beyond

any of my own desires,

which sat muted

in the shadows of a love

I could never make whole.

it is time

The clock strikes the hour

slapping her sharply across the face,

admonishing her precision;

her steadfast requirement to record

each and every second.

Never looking back,

the metronome of her heart

keeps her dutiful march steady

as she leaves history in her wake.

Her divine potentiality,

kinetically buoyant.

Its creation equal

to its destruction.

She waits

for no-one.

Time waits

for no one.

No queues

or overtaking masses.

Mankind scared

to look her in the eye,

scared to take hold

of her ticking hand,

for he will find it empty.

Empty of everything.

Empty

but for this moment.

Within Reach

What is my life,

by which I seek accord?

My dysfunction the result,

of opinions squatting, uninvited.

My unseen mate,

anonymous in his visibility.

A bond forged,

an unbroken potential,

of another who sees me

as he sees himself.

Torn open by my longing

of his unfeeling touch.

Knowing me,

as I know myself.

To share the love

we both kept distant,

now within reach.

Leap of Faith

Your dreams filled my mind,

replacing logic

with a desire

to escape from the drudgery

of a dog-eared life.

Unrealistic

perhaps

in its offering.

A one-sided expectation,

to leap into the arms,

of not even a promise.

Abundant willingness,

tethered to the reality of experience;

the scars of my healed past,

rightly lighting my way.

Both of us deaf,

to the pulse and beat of the other.

Judged by tone and geography

rather than the sensory magic

of meeting in the flesh.

What a fool I had been, but no fool am I now!

As a child I was told, how I ought to behave,

that the doctrine of others, was what made me brave.

Within those confines, I did not flourish, nor grow,

my dreams became limited and desire could not flow.

 

I stumbled along blindly, trying to discern my own way,

ignoring intuition, found her words to be bray.

Mismatched with existence, at great odds with myself,

with no respect for my currency; the coinage of my wealth.

 

Although held by the moon, my fear swelled with each dawn,

my mind strangled freewill, saw any choice as a thorn.

It continually re-routed, just to champion its own plan,

thoughts blurring the edges, of where I ended or began.

 

For years this continued, for years I was lost…

For decades a mere puppet, until my own heart had been crossed.

And as the beating did stop, and all the pieces were shattered,

only then did I awake, to the reality of what mattered.

 

What a fool I had been, but no fool am I now!

There will never be another master, to whom I will bow.

My ache is my own, the true gift of existence,

my courage and self-worth, the real armour of persistence.

Permutations

I’ve seen the blueprints, I’ve seen the plan

The permutations of could, can’t and can

The present’s arrived and taken my hand

Showing me I am everything, but bland

 

My courage unveiled, I know I am strong

The Universe holds me, when my path is wrong

I recognise my judgements, they all come from me

From times when my heart and mind disagree

 

I believe in all that I am, life isn’t a thought

I know what I know; the lessons have been taught

Letting go of old concepts, that no longer serve

Living the life my ego says, I do not deserve

 

There’s no need for control; there never ever was

I followed like a lemming; society saying ‘because’

My concept of perfect, now turned on its head

By unlocking my child, I am no longer dead

 

I cannot be held by projections, or fear

Nor feel an obligation, to those I hold dear

I’m an amazing woman; I’m all my own work

To not live life wondrously, well I’d be a real berk…