Eiderdown

Eiderdown

by undercompulsionpoetry ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

The wind brings with her

cloud after cloud, each calling

in turn with a draught at the door

to sweetly kiss my cheek

and bid me peace on the breeze,

for theirs is but a fleeting visit,

full of vows

that this October will be different, darling.

The faint figure of a single starling,

black at a distance, seen closer

with a gloss of purples and greens,

fast in flight, impeded by mistrals

on its route to the roosting site

where a mass murmuration

warms its wings on winter nights.

I watch from my window,

not yet convinced by the change in weather.

Cat in Repose

Cat in Repose

by undercompulsionpoetry ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Crescent moon

curled up on a cloud

my lap brings the comfort

and her deep sighs, the sleeping sound

though gentle noise twists her ears

and open peeps one eye.

She could stay still for hours

with her chest a steady rise

and fall, then slight twitches

or flicks of the tail.

Her white fluffy paws knead the air

as pleasure prevails

with gentle pur on the outbreath.

A parcel of ginger and black,

her warm coat a replacement

for the fur that I lack.

Cicatrix

Cicatrix

by undercompulsionpoetry ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

It starts as an itch,

an idea in bits,

scratched

till the skin splits

and ink meets its match

in the bleeding that drips

a pattern onto the page

which sticks,

holding the nib

with firming grip

as the blood begins to buffer

the cut

clotting thick

till the meaning fits

and settles itself

as a scar,

starting at scarlet

to a shimmering blush

when the sparks rush

to the surface

with one sensitive touch,

and when the sensations

created

are all out of love,

its silver surface stays

as a statement

to be heard

for what happens

when the heart tries

to stop the writer’s words.

Random Scenes

Random Scenes

by undercompulsionpoetry ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

i. The saddest thing

is half of half of it,

if you want to know the truth.

Dropping down memories,

it’s as though

they hadn’t lived.

Something remembered,

but that’s all.

ii. The sky lit up

when the colour started happening.

I watched for anything better;

I wondered if we grow through cold,

while looking at the thing in my arms,

warm eyes

told more than romance,

made fairy tales come true.

She discovered a colour new

and the feeling life.

iii. All God really wants

he made through experience.

Life means hard things,

not like home,

where Happy lasted.

iv. Thinking differently,

I wanted something written

before I met the story.