Poetry

Here goes....

Ok, I am not an expert and I do not have any published though one day just for my own collection I might gather them up and self pub one copy for me. I have these posted on my Authorsden and Writing.com sites and thought to share these here as well. My mum used to write poetry for her own musings so in a way, I guess I followed her footsteps. I am a very emotional being so when I can't openly express it, I write it. It is sometimes biting and possibly dark so be warned. Also, I sometimes rhyme, I sometimes don't. Sometimes there's a pattern, sometimes not.

This is my latest and I must admit, I enjoyed writing it immensely.

I even have a review to share!

Jerry Bolton, Author, AuthorsDen.com

"Well, as for me, I am very happy I am not in your line of retribution. But carry on, sometimes revenge is the ONLY thing that will satisfy. Good wordplay here too."

I was in a mood you see...

Revenge

Words are what I need

Gnawing, ripping, searing

Those that slice with mere letters

Ravage with only a sound

Yes, that is what I need

Dark and twisted

Like the perfect knife

To exact my revenge

Only, no blood shall be shed

No, blood is not good enough

Not for what I have in mind

No, this revenge is much sweeter

What I crave is from the mind

A thought, yes just one single thought

It can wrought more damage than a mere fleshy wound

It can be remembered long after puckered skin has healed

Remember, oh yes, the deed will not lay forgotten

Memories, oh how they haunt the soul

When it has wronged, when it has blighted another

It becomes a gift turned curse upon the wicked

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An Optimist's Conclusion

In a perfect world...

The skies never darken
The days never age
The winds never stale

My worries do not overwhelm
My sorrows do not drown
My frustrations do not suffocate

My health is not an issue
My mind is always stimulated
My heart is never torn

In a perfect world...

How beautiful
How boxed
How boring

**********************************

String

When there is nothing left
to reach for
to hold onto

A tiny string dangles before me
thin
brittle

It slips around my fingers
cutting off circulation
slicing my skin

I refuse to release it
despite the searing pain
my grip tightens

*can you tell what this poem is about?*

*****************************************

Hope

Isn't always pretty
It is never easy
It makes no promises

It is years in the making
It is lost and then found
It doesn't defeat the impossible

It is strength
It is courage
It is continuing

Fumbling through darkness
Crawling across jagged rocks
Defying everything just to be

*****************************************

Weary

On my knees, tears staining fiery cheeks

Breath caught in my throat, my chest held tight

I embrace the darkness before me, it does not frighten me

For within all darkness there is a light

And within all light there is darkness

One must have the other to obtain balance

For this I accept my demons, as fierce as they may be

and even draw strength from them

Always within my weakest moment I remember that this too shall pass

For every breath I take, each mistake I make

I am humble, I accept my imperfection

It is as much a part of me as I am of it

I can never give up, no matter how impossible it seems

I don't bother to wipe away the tears, they are my strength

I am slow as I push myself from the ground once more

My body trembles and I do not stand near as tall

Yet here I am, slightly bruised and weary but ready for more

Beginnings...

Each of my Fragments of the Key novels have a poem at the opening. I don't really know where they came from but I enjoyed writing them and think it is an added touch to the books that set the tone. I've two completed and working on the third poem. Here are the first two since they are already published in book 1. Perhaps a sneak peek at book 3's might be in the future--it is much darker than the first two but as the story of Caede Gadron and her friends grow so does the darkness that threatens them. If I were to sum up the series in one word, it would be 'strength'. Strength does not necessarily mean a physical ability and sometimes the weakest can be the most strong.

Misfit

A misfit you say…

An outcast…

I’m not like you…

I don’t belong…

Yet here I am, I exist…

I breathe the same air…

My heart beats…

My blood flows…

Maybe…just maybe, it is you who is the misfit

Maybe…just maybe, this is the only way you can fit in

By pushing me away…