Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together – Vincent Van Gogh

Posts tagged ‘poem’

Something In Her

There was something in her, and it sometimes kicked.
It made her tummy rounder and bigger.
The doctor said she was too small to bear this something,
but her mother in a drunken stupor could not care less.


She yearned for love in the signs that she made,
in the words that could not escape her mouth.
But the man who threw her on the floor,
overpowered her, left her bleeding
went beyond what she could put sound to.


So she hid her shame till she could no more.
And when the something inside her grew too large,
it kicked at her tender, innocent heart.


The words again fled her mind as she lay writhing on the floor.
Oh what pain she bore.


(This is a poem to someone I knew. She died a few months back in premature child birth)

Colours of Paint

Slather me with huge swaths of colour

The mysterious blue of an ink well,

The luminescent yellow of flaxen hair

The shimmering red of raging eyes

The sexy brown of lustrous skin.


Slather me through, with rough, cruel passion,

Pent up anger, nauseous distress,

Straining taunt muscle, hacking, frenzied to break loose

Rippling their way from the depth of your bowls.


Slather me, with words that have no utterance

Thought incomprehendable,

A whirlstorm of action that shreds to atoms

Pell-mell in a million directions.


Slather me thick,

From my skin to the deepest crevice of my being,

So I transcend into your hell,

For a moment, breathe as you.

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