Archives

71. My father and I 


Noisy raindrops splash down on the heavy green waxed umbrella.

My father carries me in his arms,
High above the drenched path.
He holds me tight,
He keeps me safe.

From my vantage point I see a colourful world:
Umbrellas in a multitude of rainbows hurry past me,
My head turning eagerly towards the nearest one.

Amidst this adventure, my father calls out to me,
He’s waiting to pop a few more Smarties into my mouth.

His eyes smile back at my grin.

How I wish I could travel back in time to that afternoon.
So much has changed between then and now.
He can no longer carry me;
But I mustn’t forget,
He still holds me tight,
And he still keeps me safe.

©Brindology 2016
Original image by Brinda Naidu 

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

Daily prompt: Enthusiasm

69. Pause, breathe, relax

This is my time to pause,
To close my eyes,
To sit in silence amongst these stones,
And forget all that’s false.

This is my time to breathe,
To forgive my every sin,
To fill my heart with love,
And sway gently with the trees.

Let me abandon tomorrow’s worry,
Let my mind be relaxed,
Let me float up to the stars,
Let me wipe away my tracks.
Let the dark night engulf me,
Let every sorrow disappear,
Let my mind be set free,
Let me banish every fear.

©Brindology 2016

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

Daily prompt: Relax

67. Unattainable moodiness on a bright day

the sun came up shining today, even though I didn’t want it to.
I kept my windows shut and pulled the blanket over my eyes, but the warm scent of coffee drifted in anyway.
my neightbours’ children were playing noisily — some new toy had caught their attention, much to their mother’s amusement,
but not mine.
I just wanted the world to stop revolving, and let me off this ride.
but it wasn’t going to happen.
the world continued spinning, taking me on a round trip into tomorrow.
somewhere the sun was still shining, and it wasn’t bothered about self-pity or worse.
the world just has a job to do.

Daily prompt: Moody

©Brindology 2016

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

65. On a moonlit night 

Night.
You’re here once again.
Your blackened countenance gazes upon me as I close my eyes.
My memories belong to you.

In my dreams, your look is inscrutable;
I know not what you think of me.

Night,
Will you bring me peace?
Will you lie beside me,
Watch over me
And chase the nightmare away?

Will you let an all-consuming sleep be my bedfellow once more?

I hear footsteps beyond my door.
The voices travel far to reach my ears.
I imagine they talk about me.
Yes, me.
Sad little me,
That nobody else talks about.

The footsteps walk away
And a silent pause stays behind.

No, I do not hear the heartbeat anymore.

Night.
Shall I lean back on my pillow?
Shall I allow you to embrace me with the wickedness of your depth and surrender to your breathing?

©Brindology & Cassandra Luey 2016
Original image by Cassandra Luey

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

64. Verandah 

Sitting in the verandah,
I watch the rain fall from the grey skies,
Bringing with them the tears that you once shied away from shedding in front of me.

The heat is gentle on this evening,
And my hair hangs loosely –
Dancing locks in the darkening breeze.

Am I guilty of an unforgivable sin?
Your sobs are numbed by the softness of the raindrops,
But I am not too sure if the wound runs deeper than I could ever imagine.

Your eyelashes are wet.
Your tears stain your face.
Your lips tremble;
I should look away,
I should not intrude,
I should turn my face away.

Forgive me for trespassing upon your private grief.

©Brindology 2016

If you like this page and would like to read more of my work, please follow Brindology.

63. Screaming

There are screams travelling across rooftops tonight,
Making their way to my ears and yours.
Screams emanating from a fire that burns within a soul so wounded and torn.
Do I shut my eyes to the noise and pretend I hear nothing?
Somewhere, someone is in pain.

Another minute goes by.

I turn to look at you and I know you hear it, too.
The screams grow louder.
Why do we pause?

Are we so absent from life?

I remember that time we argued.
Our voices shrill with anger,
Our hatred boiling over.
Nobody listened
To your cries or mine.

The screams grow fainter.
Perhaps,
It was no use trying.

©Brindology 2016

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

62. Empty table for 6

For what defines a family if the family bleeds with cracks unseen?
By those who know not the deeper sense of belonging,
Oh what does it mean?

What does it mean to belong to no one
even though we are more than one?
What will it take for you to see what you’ve done to me?

©Brindology & Joanne Garnell 2016
Original image by Joanne Garnell

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

61. Bird

i am a bird
trapped in my cage
my wings clipped
my feathers torn off

i look out
past the rusty bars
and see a world
that doesn’t remember me

my face has grown old
my features are no longer the same
my voice is weak
my spirit has flown on from here

i am a mere afterthought
something that sits in the corner
something you once loved
but no longer need

this cage never opens
this is my only home
darkness runs rings around my eyes
there are no more tears to shed

©Brindology 2016

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

59. Scribbles in your notebook

Why do you let your words remain silent?
They are more than scribbles in your notebook.

That secret you hold deep in your heart,
That love that nobody knows about,
That thought that keeps you from breaking apart,
Are but mere scribbles in your notebook.

Set them free.

©Brindology 2016

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology.