I don’t know what I’m doing or where I stand before these waves on this forlorn strand will the waters inundate me and make me flow or the wind push me away with its aerial force?
Lost in this giant abyss and life’s unbearable heat I long for the shade, the faraway streets exhausted beyond endurance, suffered beyond suffering lone, melancholy, a troubled, broken thing…
Water, carry me now, or Earth, swallow me whole Fire, leave no traces behind, when to the Air, you let me go…
Who
sorts out
the poet
giving a voice
to your unuttered
despair left in the wake?
I cannot run to you now.
We survived the end of our world,
unfortunately not each other.
Paths once united, just dust from our past.
A reader commented “Exquisite”, I agree. 🙂 Thank you, Frances Tates, for this beautiful piece of deep, heartfelt emotions. ❤
By Frances Tate
You are moon to my tide,
You pull away – I ebb and flood.
Rare blue moons, I keep up
with your wax and wane.
Hunting through clouds to see
which bloodied or
honeyed face you wear-
which scars and valleys show.
But the black moon, the dark sky
reveal nothing.
I’m not ready to stop trying.
Stop hoping that,
of all the courses run,
one will be your resistance.
I can’t explain why it matters,
what it is about you
I can’t relinquish-
even though you’ve never
been mine to lose or hand back.
I never question my lunacy.
Frances Tates writes because, “the words made me.”
Willow I hide in you Where the pale winter dwells Waiting for light to come again Darkest Nights cry In silent solitude for love Once held in softest hands Come again love Call me
STRIPPED
Stripped by winter’s darkest rays I lie in sorrow’s deep embrace Tears erupt fill empty days Disappear in rising haze Light comes again in unknown ways Stripped by winter’s darkest rays I lie in sorrow’s deep embrace
WHERE LIGHT IS BORN
Stuck in The damp dark earth My fingers scrabble cries Rising silently to heaven The veil Is torn By unimaginable pain I dwell in the darkness Where light is born Screaming
CALL ME
Call me As the snowdrops Die in pure innocence While the wild winds roar their rage Holy Sacred Is the silence now as death comes Sighing in the stillness Of the last breath On earth
LAST BREATH
Come lie In my sighing Sadness caress me now As I breathe in woe my last breath Leaving Behind You whom I love dearest of all Whisk me to the darkness Quickly now cry No more
GIFTED
In sun’s Pure light blinded I see an open door With the eyes of my heart softened By tears Gently Dancing with the stars in my eyes Gifted to me by love Unseen unknown Before
~~~
My name is Lorraine Lewis. I have always written poetry but began to write more in earnest following having serious advanced blood cancer and going blind and becoming wheelchair-bound. I greatly enjoy experimenting with different forms of poetry, preferring the shorter forms.
As I mentioned in my comments on this piece originally – “I’m always so impressed with the delicacy your words and how they handle the heart. Loved it!” – I hope you feel the same! 🙂
her heart was fragile strong yet easily broken decided to guard it in a protective shield for she’d rather bury it deep inside the envelope of her soul than tossed, turned and shattered by hands ungentle
Unfortunately, the blog no longer exists. I didn’t get to know Natalie well, but she was one of my favorite reads. I realize that nothing stays the same and for whatever reason, she doesn’t write anymore. It just makes me sad when blogs sometimes just fade away. I hope Natalie sees this post and knows her words touched me. This piece reminded me so much of my thoughts and feelings during the terrible teens and tumultuous 20s. They sure did leave some scars. This was originally published on August 4, 2018.
Faceless
It all started as a game.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been a people-watcher.
As a child, I would watch people for hours before even attempting to talk to them.
I’d scrutinize how you spoke. What you wore. When you laughed. What you liked. Whom you talked to.
I would watch and watch, try to figure out who you were. What you wanted.
And once I put together the pieces of your identity, I would form my own, making sure they clicked.
It was like a puzzle that only I could finish and it amused me to have that sort of power over you: to control exactly what you see.
But under all of that, I’d ensured that I was that girl:
The girl you want to speak to.
The girl you share all your secrets with.
The girl you like.
I flit from one person to the next, as graceful as a butterfly.
Always smiling. Always pleasing.
You come to me when you don’t have anyone else, and it’s my shoulder you cry on, it’s into my ears you whisper your darkest secrets.
I soothe. I comfort. I encourage. I motivate. I charm.
And when I’m finally alone, I laugh.
I laugh at the world, at how gullible you are, to think you know me, to trust me the way you do.
I laugh till I cry and then I cry till I can’t breathe.
The tears never end, it seems, they flow and flow relentlessly, leeching me of everything.
The real joke was on me, all along.
And I’d never realized.
I look in the mirror and don’t recognize the shadow that looks back into my eyes.
I don’t ‘like’ her.
I despise her.
I see myself wrapping my hands around her throat and squeezing until the light slowly fades from her eyes.
And then, I realize the girl is me.
The irony: I’d gained the affection of everyone else, only to realize that I couldn’t win me over too.
Alone, I’m a coward. I’m despicable. Spineless. A doormat. A hypocrite.
I morph myself to suit the people around me. My very identity is built on everyone else’s desires.
I’m no one without someone to please. Nothing without a task to complete.
And there is nothing left of ‘me’ now, of the person I could have been.
Before. Before all the masks.
When I look back, all I see is crushed dreams, and when I look forward, I see an eternity of nothingness.
But it’s what I see when I look within that truly scares me.
her heart was fragile
