Pineapple and its cross section (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
You’re like a pineapple
Rough on the outside
Sweet within
Prickly your hide dear
Sharp and hard your skin
Let me cut you open
Let your juices flow
The sweetness in your soul dear
Is what I yearn to know
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
The painter and his muse (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Sing me your song of love
Sing me your song
Hand in hand, glove in glove
Here I’ll belong
If you must stray from me
Don’t tarry long
Sing me your song of love
Sing me your song
Write for me poems sweet
Write now for me
With you I’m so complete
With you I’m free
If we are far apart
Cling more to me
Write for me poems sweet
Write now for me
Paint me the heart of love
Here for me paint
Strive for the gods above
Show no restraint
Let all the colours run
Brightness to faint
Paint me the heart of love
Here for me paint
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
Poising here
on the crest of waves
that won’t peak
Listening
for words from mouths
that won’t speak
Offering
your trembling soul
You’re refused
Here instead
are options displayed
you can’t choose
Denial
shown to you here as
hopefulness
Trickery
Nothing to gain now
but distress
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
Marilyn Monroe is frightened in the theatrical trailer of the 1953 film Niagara directed by Henry Hathaway. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Live with the fear
Poised as an animal
About to flee or fight
In trembling
Dissembling
Find odd delight
My knife against your throat
Makes swallowing hard
And yet you’ll know
Each breath of life
Each turn of card
Live with the fear
Like adrenalin
Coursing through your veins
Revoking all
Invoking all
Human remains
The circle drawn keeps out the dark
But you’re within
It makes you bride to nightshade
Or groom to sin
Live with the fear
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
No person (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
You were a person of interest
In the pit of my life
A criminal, dark nightshade
A switch blade knife
Your photo pinned to walls
And jagged lines
The passage of relationships
Are here defined
A sociopath in cultured clothes
Your nails pristine
And of your rank nefariousness
You kept your visage clean
I’ll never pin this crime on you
They’ll never know
Your clever plans and strategies
Can’t overthrow
You’re just a photo in the files
Of my lost memory
Some notations and connections made
Known just to me
Your joker’s face will hide the dark
So skilfully
So only those who feel the crime
Will ever see
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
If I were to see your face today
I’d turn away
There wouldn’t be a single thing
I’d want to say
I’d pretend I hadn’t seen you
Or never knew
The things that you turned into
And how you grew
It’s such a bitter shame to say
I wouldn’t care
And should you call me on the phone
I won’t be there
The voicemail you leave’s a ghost
I’ll never own
Just hang ups like the darkest days
You’re left alone
Where once I would have smiled at you
To see you smile
I’m rather sick from what you gave
Your lies and guile
You made me doubt myself and worse
I doubted you
There isn’t any cure for this
Nought you can do
If I were to see your face today
I’d turn away
There wouldn’t be a single thing
I’d want to say
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
English: A exposure blended photo of the Sydney Opera House, as viewed from the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Taken by myself with a Canon 5D and 100mm f/2.8 macro lens. Français : L’Opéra de Sydney, vu depuis le Harbour Bridge. Suomi: Sydneyn oopperatalo kuvattuna Sydney Harbour Bridge:ltä. Gaeilge: An tÁras Ceoldrámaíochta i Sydney san Astráil. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I do not crave change
Not now
There were times in my life
I needed diversion
Adventure just to breathe
Not now
The hum of big city streets
Was a melody to me
Not dark discordant artistry
Not now
It’s been over a year to reach
Today
When I returned so briefly
To old stomping grounds
But felt more alien
Today
The need for speed has passed me
Like a phantom on these streets
These days I crave less to repeat
Today
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
The conversation is done
The waiting has begun
Such structured, strict confines
Illuminates and then defines
One’s life in epigrams
Lost postcards, telegrams
The dance of words is all
One now awaits the call
The call may never come
Now the tale is spun
The questions were obtuse
The answers lost and loose
I tried to give them me
I hoped that they would see
Perhaps they saw too well
I now await the bell
The hang up on the phone
The answer so postponed
Perhaps they never called
It was not them at all
Internally I deride
My presumption and my pride
See how my race is run
The waiting has begun
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
Down the dark road (Photo credit: Sam T (samm4mrox))
Loquacious in your silence
you are a jackal
or born of one
You’ve been on the hunt again
way past midnight
Even ghosts writhe in pain
in your wake
Fretful you have walked
these empty, wide suburban streets
Pacing beneath lamplight, predatory
Blood on your lips
and on your icy fingertips
far worse
You whisper your one promise
to the dark unfeeling night
‘You’ll never be rid of me’
Skin stretched taut against aging cheekbones
I’ve seen better days
You make me handmaiden to destitution
And there isn’t a safe passage
out of town anymore
That was yesterday’s reprieve
I’ve seen your shadow in alleyways
Your scent is such a give-away
Your gods died so long ago
from bitterest regret
Epitome of nothingness
your barren eyes glaze
The animal within coiling
more serpentine than warm-blooded
Are teeth bared
about to strike
or shall we have peace
for one more night?
Underneath you susserate
one promise to eternity
‘In a thousand lifetimes and a thousand more
you’ll never be rid of me’.
(c) Helen Valentina 2013 All rights Reserved
For mindlovemisery’s prompt inspired by PJ Harvey songs, at http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com/2013/10/13/prompt-25-pj-harvey/
Check it out and join in!! 🙂
Guillotine (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I understand your fall
Somehow across the centuries
I live and feel it all
The fear and the intrigues
Are familiar, I recall
I somehow know them all
A sword upon your throat
The weaving of the politic
Pretenders here will gloat
And any chance of rescue
Is tragically remote
With this sword upon your throat
And here in modern-day
The subterfuge is similar
The same games that they play
Are deadly in intent
And ancient in their way
Still here in modern-day
I understand your fall
I reach across the centuries
To give some comfort, small
Sweet gestures given so
You somehow still stand tall
I understand your fall
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
Like most people, I have a number of sides to me. The most interesting one probably emerges through my writing, hence this blog. I love to read, and also to write, and so this is a way to share both.
Gravatar image credit: (c) iStockphoto.com/Lobsterclaws
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