Tag Archive | art

93. Take courage 


Know who you lend your voice to,
For you only make theirs louder;
Know who you shut your heart to,
For you only make life bleaker. 

Be not the yes-man,
The one with neither guts nor clear sight;
Please, if you see someone wronged,
Speak up and make things right. 

These waters are no longer still
For the first rock has been thrown,
The ripples are moving far 
Beyond where the winds have blown. 

Don’t you have a conscience?
Haven’t you felt such pain?
Look at what you stand for,
What do you hope to gain?

Know who you lend your voice to,
For you only make theirs louder;
Know who you shut your door to,
For you only make others suffer.

©Brindology 2017 & simplyjes
©Original artwork by simplyjes 

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Daily prompt: Yellow

40. Washed away

My sins have been washed away by rain.
All the colours of my past
— red, green, blue —
Are gone.

Only the black ink of my memory stains my skin now.

Let my body be my canvas,
Don’t judge me.
My body is mine,
My words are sacred to me.

©Brindology 2016 & Belinda Low
©Original artwork by Belinda Low

If you like Belinda’s artwork and are interested in finding out more about her paintings, please visit Belinda Low.

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

26. Myself

Come on over here and take your shoes off.
Let the grass tickle your feet gently.
Is it stinging your soul?

Breathe in deeply and smell the joy in the flowers
as they lift their faces to the rains and dance oh so daintily!

You can dance daintily too.
Go on. Do it.
No one is watching.

Taste the water that’s
Falling from the sky.
Does it taste familiar to you?
Is it salty?
Think back to the time when you first tasted it.

Free your senses.
Let them caress you.
Let them envelope you.

But stop just awhile…
Do you hear that noise?
Or is it just you breathing?

©Brindology 2004

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8. 2004 Revisited

This madness crawls inside my head,
this ugliness leaves my words unsaid,
this emptiness makes me cling in dread
to the shadows of the living dead.
It has left me bereft
and afraid
to move,
to speak,
to stand up and be seen,
to rise above myself and walk,
to happily live my dream.

Would I be happier if words were silent?
Would I be saner if hurt had no voice?
Would the world be silent if I made no sound?
Would the world be voiceless if I made the choice to sacrifice my art,
to stop my words from spilling out of my barren soul onto this guiltless paper?

©Brindology 2016

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7. Quiet


Quiet, child.
Whisper not a sound.
Your tears have been seen,
And we weep for you.

Rest your voice now,
We will speak for you.
Quiet, child.
Whisper not a sound.

©Brindology 2015 & Belinda Low
©Original artwork by Belinda Low

If you like Belinda’s artwork and are interested in finding out more about her paintings, please visit Belinda Low.

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