Poetry

Invisible Woman (Poetry)

By on February 3, 2018
Invisible Woman

The Invisible Woman

 

I am an invisible woman.

Age makes me invisible.

Men no longer call me from buildings or cars.

Men no longer try to touch me uninvited.

I like this.

I enjoy my invisibility.

 

I am an invisible woman.

But sometimes people see me.

These people want my humour,

My wisdom, my experience.

These people pay genuine compliments

and give heartfelt invitations.

I like this.

But mostly I am invisible.

 

I am an invisible woman.

I work behind the scenes.

Facilitating others.

The lack-lustre drudge of my life

reflected in the vibrancy of theirs.

But all of this is hidden.

I am mostly invisible.

 

I am an invisible woman.

Sometimes I am screaming inside.

Sometimes I want to be recognised.

Just for a moment

to pull back the veil and be seen.

But mostly I am just invisible.

 

I am an invisible woman.

Sometimes like today people see me.

Sometimes they realise where I am,

who I am, what I do.

They appreciate and value.

I like this.

I like the brief moments when I am seen.

But mostly I remain invisible.

 

 

More poetry

 

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Life | Poetry | Writing/Creativity

Croning

By on December 27, 2017
croning

Emotions; yearning, aching,
but for what?

Both questions and answers elude me
lost in life’s fog.

I’m drowning, suffocating,
I need to expand and fly.

Instead, I continue to retreat and retract,
I diminish.
Frustration fills the void that once was me.

I have to stop.
Just stop.
Let myself breathe.
Let myself mourn for what is lost
and forever gone.
Let it go, move past, move forward, move on.

I abandon myself, falling,
into the cauldron, warm, dark welcoming.
The womb engulfs me, takes me deep inside myself.

I emerge. Cleansed.
Torn, I am repaired, replaced and reborn.

I am crone.
I am wise.
I am strong.
I am beautiful.
I am ME.

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Poetry | Writing/Creativity

Goodbye Dear Friend

By on December 24, 2017
writing friend

So long we have been together;
46 glorious years
Full of fun and sorrow,
of laughter and of tears.

You were new and shiny when we met,
I took you for granted back then,
But now I miss you deeply,
More than I can say, dear friend.

I was my own undoing
I did not care as much as I could,
I nurtured you so little,
You were a hassle, such a chore,
I acted with resignation and resentment,
You just weren’t that exciting anymore.

So now you are gone,
I will long remember the pain our parting,
With such a huge gap left behind,
how can that ever be filled?

But nature abhors a vacuum,
And frankly, so do I,
You have been replaced,
with a false tooth.
Life is hard, but not as hard as poetry,
or my heart.

Goodbye, my old front tooth.

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Poetry | Writing/Creativity

The Uninvited Guest – A Poem by someone who doesn’t write poems.

By on September 11, 2017

You come creeping  on slow, silent feet.

You enter my life unbidden and unwelcome spreading shadows in your wake.

Your tiny whispers poison me; sucking the life from my soul.

You come as a friend, a mother, a lover,

A confidante with gestures of concern to disguise your malevolence.

Your tiny voice slips in under the radar, quiet at first until it booms

in my brain.

Your demands to be heard will not be denied.

Slowly your critique undermines, gently, sweetly at first.

A question here, a comment there.

Time  passes and you grow strong.

My Will, My Self is eroded away.

I  diminish as you grow, fading softly and imperceptibly into the void.

Now there is no ‘me’, there is only you, my uninvited guest.

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