Poetry Blog by Celia
I have black sand at the bottom of my soul.
It is not always still. It whirls around sometimes,
Sometimes it creases and makes shapes
(If they mean something, I don’t know)
But then it settles down again.
Dark, harmless, smooth. Each grain tiny.
So what’s the weight?
Other people have rocks at their bottom,
I only have sand; I cannot complain.
Black sand and rather still...
Monday 19th October 2020 2:41 pm
Poems are not for happy days,
For resolutions and self-promises,
For being tough and unresponsive,
Poems are not for new beginnings.
Poems are searching, searing, morbid,
They turn you in and leave the sun,
Poems seek out your obsessions,
They tickle them, they wrap them in a bow.
Poems are not for going out and doing,
For being your great mechanical self.
Tuesday 14th April 2020 3:04 pm
The chirp comes halfway between my dreams and yours
And this time you’re not there for me to ask
What did you dream
What did I dream
To confirm that what we dream is real
Like the bird and its little white chest
Is my hand as it strokes yours on my stomach.
The bird waits patiently outside my window and yours
Now at different places, but the very same bird
How does he do...
Friday 4th May 2018 3:04 pm
Excuse me sir, how long
till Central Station?
Thirty. Five. Minutes.
Thirty five. Another hour
Or day springs open abyss
Before me, that is, before us
Before I can rest my hand on your shoulder
And pretend not to expect you there
Or you me.
These minutes are unlike any other
Minute I’ve known on earth
They are viscous, solid,
Friday 12th May 2017 4:41 pm
I can only think of your gentle
lips, I can only picture your
delicate touch, I can only
remember within myself
the words, those words
you never spoke.
Because time is too small for
us caught in the wrong
corners of it, at the start
and the ending, but never the
Because yesterday was the right
time for today for the
kiss that I gave to the
Sunday 25th December 2016 1:04 am
This gushing of love from my eyes
At the dark-haired mug of the stepped-in passenger
Ugly like a dark night with no moon
Dirty with paint and with a grin
Of pain and tiredness and incomprehension.
Love gushes through eyes and pores
Of my skin, leaking out of any orifice
At the reticent hard reality of a train car,
The suited and tied clerk fingering
His phone oblivious o...
Friday 18th November 2016 4:19 pm
She saw the stars
apart from one another and serene
like one could never hope to be
or wish to be, upon this crooked Earth where
a galaxy onto himself
commands and strikes and wrecks
a disappointed mind bent upon illusion.
Sometimes the stars
would send a soul-mediator
disguised as bird or grain of sand
alighting on her open palms,
Sunday 13th November 2016 2:14 pm
Speak to me like you speak,
in tongues, or in plain old English
dusted with a view of sparkly seas
or oceans, as you say, my owl.
My crow, my dove, my dolphin
plunging among the waves that roughen,
among the sands that graze and toughen
your skin and hair but soul untouched.
Tell me of the call you heard
from a distance, from the depths
of blue or green or blackened water,
the rover, ...
Thursday 22nd September 2016 3:26 pm
Swing around on your fixed throne of sorrow
Pushing on hardened feet the world away,
Away, let the landscapes slide and disappear
From languid eyes and parched open lips.
Tears have always been ungrounded, you know,
Unhinged like your throne and flowing like your hair,
Falling on newly sun-warmed hips that twist as well
And have no memory of what once seemed so cruel.
Saturday 25th June 2016 1:09 am
Nothing's easier than leaving
when the trace of smoke behind you chokes
the asphalt and the road is empty for you.
Behind and ahead confuse each other
with mingled salutations aimed at your heart,
puny heart that every touch can turn to blood.
Blood left paths in your dreams, remember,
as they used to swallow up these streets and rooms
and lock them, skinned alive in fearfu...
Wednesday 18th May 2016 4:40 pm
The only life in here is you
Crying out for food or for your mouse
You righteous creature demanding your due.
Your skin does not erupt
Nor flake at blows or wear,
You wear your coat without remorse
Without a tear.
The only life in here is you
Fantastic creature whom I fail to adore,
Imitate you I would, I don't know where to start,
For between us two
The only life ...
Saturday 14th May 2016 8:18 pm
She broke the waves thinking that England would make her famous,
He sat in homemade tweed and knew his critics were just heinous.
She took his heart and gave her life in the bargain,
He took her hand and scribbled something in the margin.
She hoped that love from him would burn and inspire,
He stayed out late and burned of an earthlier fire.
She opened up, confesse...
Sunday 8th May 2016 10:54 pm
Rising sun upon the smoke clouds, and you,
Dragged out of bed, out of sleep, traversing
The rising city upon mountains of dust,
Challenge the glare, defy the sun.
Betrayed, the light won’t set upon your face
At sunset, leaving streaks of orange
And pink over the fields, over the city,
But you, expectant and resigned,
Lie on the rug, offering up your face.
Thursday 21st April 2016 10:17 am
The third one was born alive
the second one so and so
the first let's forget about him.
Nobody said it'd be easy
to tread on this land of discomfort
to walk among throngs of discordants.
The first day he thought rain was sunshine
the second he drank from the pond
the third one he picked all the flowers
and wiped off his tears with their leaves
and lay on the petals till sunset
Wednesday 30th March 2016 5:53 pm
The night comes. The fire crackles. And nothing happens.
Nothing happens to your voice, once so mellow,
Nothing happens to the sky, but where are all the stars?
Nothing happens, I can see it,
I know, I'm here,
But the magpies in the gutters
know far better than I.
Another night has set. The world's revolved again. And nothing's left.
Wednesday 30th March 2016 5:50 pm
'I am open to the possibility' you said,
'of love with you, at least I was,
then something happened which drove me quite mad.'
Love is not a possibility
a stranger at the door
you may invite inside
if fancy takes you;
Love is not a beggar
after a bowl of soup
which you can refuse
if your day’s been rough;
Love is not a tree in the garden
Thursday 24th March 2016 10:02 am
And now I must recover myself
Left, after centuries of fearful neglect
Washed up to dry on a sunless beach.
And now I must plait my hair
Dull, after nights of washing in grease
The guilty searches for lost affection.
And now I must return home,
Home, where I’ve never been
And sit a while and say sorry, I’m sorry, to me.
Wednesday 16th March 2016 3:27 pm
Life must be held suspended in a glance
That moves backwards, forwards, holding
Your life together, ceaselessly
Reminding that you are
Something; this thing.
You stop looking: You fall
From a vacant gaze
Into vacant skies
Or even less.
That time is now and truth outside
You can assent to abstractly,
While the watchman in your eyes
Saturday 13th February 2016 4:22 pm
Hold your head high and smile and
Straighten your back and look ahead
They tell me
Never know who I am and what I deserve
My place in the world.
I think I am a cloud or a see-through curtain
I fancy myself a vase with no flowers in it
I walk around like a clown on a journey
Outside the walls of the home.
I would let birds alight on my shoul...
Saturday 30th January 2016 11:29 pm
From my bed of butterflies I stretch out a hand
Toward the sun, who caresses my palm,
Tepidly, because of the distance,
Tentatively, because I am a woman
Who worships the night, womb of forgetfulness,
Night of night mares,
Night of utter release.
Sunday 24th January 2016 5:58 pm
Weaving sunlight in one’s hair
Is not easy, uncle Thomas,
As you should have known best of all,
As I had to learn overall.
The days are grey and my energy saps
Sunlight I can no longer produce
And it’s all for nothing, all for no good.
I wish you had told me before.
And to tell me you tried, I grant you that,
My ears inattentive, or biased, or sad.
Saturday 12th December 2015 7:09 pm
Here I begin again
Not knowing where I'm going
Not even wanting to.
I go to sleep late and wake up later still.
I water the plants when I remember.
I have a cat with a cone round his head.
These things are transparent
To my daily pattern-making occupation
My storytelling condition
My meaning making compulsion.
I sleep, forgetting plants and cat,
Forgetting you thank God,
Thursday 3rd December 2015 11:20 am
I should find
some way to combine
the lightness of these giggles
and earnest, loaded questions,
this freedom, ropes of light,
my sorrow, pounded wisdom.
I should move
between the child who wants
just to be fickle, tickling, gaping,
and this silent, throbbing person
whose torments are my own.
Red leaves are rotting under too much care.
Can we tilt
Thursday 26th November 2015 1:10 am
I didn't know
how many muscles
a body can have
I didn't know
one can dwell in Eden
if there is no god
until a year ago.
I thought I knew
one can fall from grace
But I didn't know
what it means to descend
and how long the road,
and to where,
to crash or land,
I still don't know.
Thursday 25th June 2015 8:55 pm
You are imperfectly absent
you are in the empty house
too big for me.
You are outside,
in the thick ancient walls
where I run my hand
and make my finger bleed.
in the space,
surprised by my voice
You are the absent answer
to a cry stifled in my mouth
with a handkerchief.
You are not
where I reach out, when I try...
Sunday 14th June 2015 12:29 am