Diamond dust



27/11/2016 Six poems from a meandering mind; Hopeless/Chained to the future/Seconds slipping into years/She/Adam/Ugly duckling



A catch cry,

a phrase plucked from the consciousness of society.


"We can make a difference."


What bollocks.



Chained to the future


Freedom is a myth,

we are all slaves

to our tomorrows.



Seconds slipping into years


We bend like blades of grass

in a spring breeze...

Our lives flow

with the ebbs and tides

of societal and internal pressures.

Today becomes yesterday

becomes a decade gone

in the blink of an eye.

I woke up as Moses

and I go to bed as Nannu.





Her smile shining like starlight

on a moonless night.

Behold her eyes glowing like dreams,

like diamonds;

catching and amplifying their own energies.

My heart swells at the thought of holding her,

solid in my arms,

though a fantasy for my heart.

I inhale her hair,

I kiss the top of her head

like a baby,

like a prayer...

like my dearest memories.





A puff of dust held still in the air,

by some miracle

the breeze does not touch it,

and it hangs there,

waiting for a nebulous hand

to shape it into a man.



Ugly duckling


I walk through this cloud of dust,

it chokes and clings to my skin,

shrouding and cloaking me

like all my yesterdays.

Which I wear and display proudly,


on my face, for all to see,

for those who know what to look for.

This dust coats me like the thickest oil.

It sticks to me like a crying baby,

like mucous it is everywhere.

The weight of this experience slows me down,

it restricts my movement,

and as I emerge I attempt to shake it off,

to free myself of its shackles...

...and then my eyes land on the mirror of yours,

and I see what I have become,

I behold the aftermath of my experience...

and I realise that I am beautiful,

and I feel what you see

in my heart.

I am gold.


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