The Torment

TIME EXPLODES

and I remember the wretched childhood
the unending moaning
emerging
from behind closed doors
as you mourned what was no longer

yet I was still there

I still am

yet the wretchedness lingers on
ignoring my existence
as though I too never was

but i was

and I still am

Dawn Whitehand Poem

Biro on Handmade Paper

Dawn Whitehand © 2017

A New Years Resolution

A New Years Resolution…

to smell warm eucalyptus and forthcoming rain
not the smoky black burden of fires ferocious aftermath

to listen to a gentle summer breeze rustle green leaves
not unseasonal winds wreaking havoc across the now barren land

to taste clean fresh water gurgling
not greedy corporate pollution running through my veins

to feel warm sun and green grass
not despair at the grisley cries of once bountiful Mother Nature dying

to gaze upward and outward
not inward where gloom grips the soul with an unending relentless grasp

My New Years Resolution….

Conte Sketch altered in Prisma

Conte Sketch altered in Prisma

© Dawn Whitehand 2017

obliteration

the grey bare Earth shivered
a harsh scathing wind enveloping her
as icy rain lashed her naked body
silver tentacles spiralling upward
squeezing her vulnerable flesh

until finally erupting

and the grey bare Earth was no more

Pen on handmade paper

Pen on handmade paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2016

Insomnia

darkness seeps through these veins
my pounding heart an unlikely companion
invisible ceiling hovering
crushing my body
the absent tick tock of the clock
trawling through the long hours
dreamlessness a curse to my once stable mind
the sweet peace of sleep evading this restless soul
as I wait night after endless night

2016-08-03 18.46.08

© Dawn Whitehand

Playing with Words

I wrote a poem in my head today
but now my mind is completely dead
and I think back on it bleakly
hoping for that extra creative hit
even becoming unusually meditative
then it comes to me and I write furiously
my spirits to an even greater height
inspiration – the great inflater

Conte on Handmade Paper

Conte on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2016

 

A Mother’s Day Poem

do you miss the child we never had
that cheeky smile that never was
joyous shrieks of delight at new discoveries
pitter patter pitter patter of little feet
on the cold bare floor
that could have been warm and cozy

do you miss the sparkling sunshine
shining on her golden hair
that innocent trusting stare of clear blue eyes
gazing blankly at eternal nothingness
clap clap clap clap of chubby hands
excited beyond belief at what could have been

do you miss that little life denied by fate

our child that never was

Conte on Handmade Paper

Conte on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2016

Day 30 NaPoWriMo – Yay I Made It!

tiny pin pricks in my head
threatening an incision
feeling heavy as solid lead
struggling to make a decision
reluntantly clambering out of bed
barely with any forward vision
I start the day with bitter dread

Conte on Handmade Paper

Conte on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand

napo2016button1

YAY! I made it through the month 🙂

I Remember – Day 29 NaPoWriMo

I remember the first time I saw poverty
a shrivelled old woman sitting hoveled, I remember

I remember the first time I felt hungry
a calculator in hand at the supermarket, I remember

I remember the first time I saw powerlessness
a faceless person in a mindless queue, I remember

I remember the first time I felt passion
a niggling feeling slowly awakening, I remember

I remember the first time I saw needless suffering
a forlorn mother cradling her child, I remember

I remember the first time I felt outraged
a life changing epiphany, I remember

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2016

napo2016button1

Today’s prompt www.napowrimo.net – to write a poem based on things you remember.

Day 28 – NaPoWriMo : A Poem Written Backwards

transforming a peaceful existence to one of ultimate hell
the phone rang loudly bearing tragic news of untimely black death
a comfortable house nestled amongst freshly mown green grass
the eager twitter of tiny birds flitting from branch to branch
warm yellow summer sun rising in a mellow sky
it was supposed to be the best day of my life

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2016

napo2016button1

Prompt from www.napowrimo.net – to write a poem that tells a story. But here’s the twist – the story should be told backwards. The first line should say what happened last, and work its way through the past until you get to the beginning.

Day 27 – NaPoWriMo Seventeen Syllables!

the slippery grass was a glossy green on the east side of the hill
where the golden sun sparkled happily in the early morning dew
casting rainbow reflections upward and outward toward a blue sky

but the west was shadow ridden and forlorn, dismally bleak and dry
a desolate landscape blighted by greyness within a warped quagmire
of slimy bog and smelly sludge, relentlessly encroaching forward

the microcosm of a world fuelled by mindless ideology

increasingly doomed, forever bent on terminal self destruction

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2016

napo2016button1

Todays prompt form http://www.napowrimo.net
The Irish poet Ciaran Carson increasingly writes using very long lines. Carson has stated that his lines are (partly) based on the seventeen syllables of the haiku, and that he strives to achieve the clarity of the haiku in each line. So today’s challenge is to write a poem with very long lines.
I have taken on board the seventeen syllables and used that as a starting point.