A Fleeting Feeling

After spending time outside
Its hard to step back inside.
It jolts uncomfortably
Causing moments of loss;
A loss of control over situations,
Surroundings.
In these moments of
Fleeting surrender
I am in the hands of the guardians.
Keep or kill they whisper to one another;
Pain-full or pain-less?

I stood back and watched my universe
Stop for a while.
A gentle acceptance of could have been fate.
No struggle, no fight.
As the hands of those I trust deeply,
Full of pain, came to my rescue.
I surrendered too easily, not knowing when or how to fight,
Choosing that time to try to fly.

I would have become the wind
The dust that sits on every embryo
Protecting, nurturing, comforting.
Drawn down deep inside every being
And flung back out again at a thrilling speed.
Not that much different from now,
I chuckle to myself,
I'm just made with more earth,
More places to hurt.
And it's still just as ethereal,
Demanding and
It dissipates just as quickly
as it coagulates.

Dust

 Dust

I pace around and around in a house of closed doors.

I open each and wander through.

I have moved through this room before

And will do again.

I circulate the house

Round and round,

Opening and closing, closing and opening.

My pacing slows

My skin dries

My mind gets heavy with the dust

That sits in the stifling air.

'Go outside' my heart whispers

Weakened to the thoughts of my mind.

My mind answers 'fuck off'

And my heart cowers behind my chest.

It keeps on beating, refusing to stop.

Whispering still

'Immerse yourself and your primal urge'

My mind, heavy with new dust,

settling on old dust and dead skin,

relents a tiny bit.

My mind is stagnant, stuggling. It is not free.

My choices are imposed on me.

As I walk around and around

This old crumbling house

I stop and look at the shafting sunlight.

My heart screams out..

'GO OUTSIDE and breathe some fresh air,

Go outside and smell frost giving way to spring.

The woodland sounds are yours to hear

The grass is soft and lush to touch.

Go, give your life to the earth out there.'

I pause for just a little bit longer

As the sun slides away, giving way to night.

I go outside,

Walk outside,

Run outside,

Down the road and to the right.

Dust flying from my sight.

Feb 2012

Start Travelling

You say that love has ruined you

And I say I see the depth in which your love

Will continue to give.

And I know you don't believe it right now

But believe me when I say

You are love.

You've come across pain.

The deep wounding pain that makes you

Question all manner of purpose and goals.

But deep down, at its very core

Love still lights and warms you.

Feed that fire so that it guides you,

Takes you on a journey.

Melts frozen bits, lights up dark bits.

Allow that warmth to flood your veins

To make you dance and sing.

It is not easy

To let go of that other just enough to allow

Yourself to rest.

And in that rest, that chrysalis

Your wings will grow, bright and beautiful.

But they are your wings and cannot be shared with another.

You may fly side by side for a while,

The beauty of another's journey

Is not the same as yours.

Don't close your eyes to yours.

ljmh2013

Destroy

Love has nearly destroyed me

And it continues to burn unnoticed.

Its fierceness unbound.

It eats me, pounds on my bones

Making then ache and plead for mercy

Ground into delirious dust.

Confusion as to where my present lies

Hidden in the dull persistent ache of

Old love's residue

And the rawness of being ripped away from

New love without explanation.

All my love now only exists in the centre of the crash

Grasping and wanting to cling onto whatever

Looks alive.

All my love I must direct inwards

To force my beating heart to carry me forwards

And not expel it outwards towards people

That will not honour me. Give me the

Simplest of kindnesses,

Honesty. And often the hardest

To say when the dignity of the

receiver feels in jeopardy.

Still, the known is better then

It's more secretly supported

savage sibling of the unknown..

ljmh 2013

Twist

We twisted our tales,

Merged imagination.

Told each other stories of love

And how love has hurt us.

We twisted our tails

Shared our wishes for wings.

I unfurled before you,

Filled my senses with you.

It was good,

I fell so quickly

So deeply

So I twist, twist it into my myth.

We twisted our splendour

As our spirits soared over the sea

I would sing to you daily

If only you'd let me.

We untwist, I untwist.

And I let go,

I try.

Another Thread to Weave

Another Thread to Weave.

I pluck at a thread, I begin to tease it loose,

its tangled up tightly.

This thread needs to come loose, I need to find it's end

it's reason and along the way I will

stumble into and over what it feeds on

and shelters under.

This thread begins with sex.

(a pause for me to consider the subject in an objective way

for it leaves me blushing at the best of times)

I come to you with veiled eyes

Eyes that need exposing to me to see

That I am a woman, one at one with desire

And not at the mercy of desire.

I have veiled my eyes as I as yet

still live between places.

Scattered fragments that I pick up as and when

I happen to see them lying discarded.

And for others looking upon me

the veils hide the fragments that are missing

So they see nothing unusual and remind me

of the bits that I have forgotten along the way.

Grandly I hold you higher, able to see it all.

I like the way you bring me to my

being, a fierce but careful love.

With a passion still to be fully undressed.

And I like the undressing.

But it was not to be and the absence

of such desire, the absence of the reforging of the bond

I have with you has simply got me worried.

That something in its blossoming

has got caught by an early frost

And it lies heavy

with melted water in its fragile cells.

I expected sex. It was that simple.

I didn't get it and I am disappointed,

And lost in shame for wanting that so much.

Not at one with desire at all but at it's supreme mercy.

I feel tossed aside.

A two day old toy of a fickle child.

And I see very clearly, (though my mind

shut down and loaded silence once again

took centre stage, singing proudly in the sulk,)

Just how much I feed off others and

rarely off myself.

(It hurts to realise my gifts have been cast aside for others for almost all my life.

It hurts to realise my gifts have been cast aside for my own self harm for almost all of my life.)

I enjoy the pain of the shut down, oh how I enjoy the flagellation of the wallow,

Breathing blackness in a sunken ribcage.

Only the succulent globules of salt water spewing from my eyes

Allow a purer breath and a clarity to enter.

But my mind still spins with stories of other lovers,

and whilst nothing is defined there will be other lovers.

And I do not wish to be caught and kept nor do I wish to catch and keep

But oh, oh! how I long to be your only and you my only-madness I tell you

This love. For my beating heart, my beating love wants more, it is my sadness

That clings to you as my hero and my sadness and my mind

can dictate no longer.

So from sex and absence of sex,

A whole world opens to be looked apon.

The thread I pull seems endless.

My habits, my patterns, my motivations

That all need realising fully

And changing to allow acceptance for whatever situation I find myself in.

Another thread to weave into the shawl that will keep me warm.

The Tapestry of Skin

I sit on this solstice eve

Remembering the time when

Creeping tendrils fell from my hand,

Tying me tightly and as still as stone.

That is when I lost the egg I was holding

And the life that it held

For the life was tainted and rotten.

The rain still falls heavily on my head.

Submerging me in cold murky water that leaves

Mud trails down my legs.

The moss still dies in the moisture

And the lichen, it still crumbles

But the dust that collects at my toes

Protects my connection with the earth,

With myself.

For there was a time and will still be times

When I cannot hear the quietude, the whispers

Of love and peace.

And I try to cease the harm to my spirit

Tracing the dried blood trails down

Her ethereal thighs.

Her eyes, though heavy, still stop the see the sublime

In the honesty of every story. That I praise.

I'll happily allow the hummingbirds

To sip the nectar from my eyes

Suckling the syrup of my precious vision,

To bind.

And give freely of my soul to the songbirds

Spinning the silks

To sew

Into the tapestry of my

Skin.

For me to walk upon.

For you to walk upon.

I was shocked when, one day I picked up a wasps nest

At just how fragile and delicate it was

Less then paper thin. A home of crushable walls.

A creature feared but courageous I say

beneath the black and yellow.

I shall battle fearlessly once again

Thanking myself daily for all I have.

And in doing so

I dedicate my life to each of you

In devotion and deep gratitude for

all you have given me.

And as I look up towards boundless skies

I know I will soar with the red kites that

Fly high above my mothers house.

Landing only to share experience 

And to hear the sweet sounds of stories.