The fusions and confusions of a curious mind

Learning from the heart outwards, by kempspace

Category: poetry

song

when night cuts through the deepest stars,
and soldiers cannot brave the march,
the encore cry’s a silent voice,
the table’s laid with Hobson’s choice.

when paper’s out and ink’s run dry,
the last note ends the lullaby,
there’s nothing then to bargain for,
what’s left is empty handed, raw.

and all I feel,
at depths so keen,
is the break that burns
at the heart of me.

when cries ring out but echo cold,
‘gainst walls of stone, a story old,
there’s nothing there can bear the truth,
the shift moving inside of you.

and all I breathe,
and all I weep,
is the yearn to turn
a heart to me

and what I’m told and what I know,
is this journey’s mine to take alone,
the echoes cold that still deny
are preying here right by my stride.

so I’ll take the cries
and I’ll take the pain,
and I’ll weave them through
a core left slain.

and every step
I place a vow
to listen to
the child’s song now.

those echos sent
to distant parts,
I’ll take them back
and mend this heart.

kempspace

with this ring

with this ring, I thee wed,
we’ll figure out the path we’ll tread,
together go, come hell, high water,
weave the threads this life has brought us.

to have, to hold, from this day forward,
to nurture life, our son and daughters,
ever loving, ever cautious,
that they hear the words life taught us.

to love and cherish, share our time,
hand in hand we’ve walked the line,
joy, celebration, fear and sorrow,
always there for the other’s tomorrow.

when all’s laid out before our eyes,
a look of wonder, a little pride,
our family, a world created,
none as ‘I’, we made it.

the heart, ruby, precious and warm,
beating for the life we’ve born,
since the altar, all with love,
today once more I plight thee my troth.

the river

I have no time
to sit and stare
Stone by the river
Washing my wares

Life it tests me
here and there
Heart by the river
Trading its cares

Seeing things through
Teasing things out
Sat by the river
Fathom what’s fair

Feeling little
But casting out
Follow the river
Truth will out

The river’s banks
Verdant, stout
Gaze at the river
That’ll last me out

handwept

handwritten
hand wept
wrung out to dry
hung out to dry
sung out
written out
too wrung out to cry
tongue moves to try
words for a cry
to formulate bye
bye bye

a tie
that binds
unwinds
truth sits spry
awaiting sight
the bind
was blind
the bind
broke
love
choked

kempspace

pot of gold

reworked for my little sister who liked the original that was lost…

a pot of gold
once was told
feared as lost, a tale grown old

a silent light
hidden tight
waiting soundless lost in night

ever brave
ever true
the fairies marshalled strength anew

here they flit
there they sought
the precious gift for those distraught

into dreams
through the veil
they wound their hopeful gleaming trail

just as darkness
seemed to spawn
they came upon a girl forlorn

the tears she shed
made glimmered threads
of stories weaved with sad and dread

they caught each drop
pure crystalled crops
multi-hued from every sob

they showed her how
each wrench of brow
had made her brave as she is now

to share her shroud
to speak it loud
was nemesis to darkling cloud

for every tear
when held as dear
shed wisdom’s light on future years

that pot of gold
was found at last
forged from tears so deeply cast

kempspace

a penny for your thoughts

a penny for your thoughts I said
but this I cannot do!
why not?
because I’m caught! She said
I haven’t seen them through!
It takes a while to capture them
until that comes I’m stuck
between a full and empty space
and what I need is luck!
not so, I said
for there’s the space
that needs to be explored,
that very gap
is where it’s at
not to be ignored!
ah so! said she
from what you say
it’s easier to see,
that in the middle of it all
is where my words find me

kempspace

Two chairs

on being a psychologist in psychoanalysis…

take these tools
I can lend,
my head and heart
the path we tread,
as side by side
we learn to step,
I find your pace
you find my tread.
I see your grace
you speak your truth,
the best you can
the best you could,
you see me there
sat forth to listen,
witness to
anothers presence.

we seek the links
that carry pain,
that hold you back
against the grain.
you stay in mind
feel through my heart,
until your own
can bear to start,
and when it does
as beat shocks breath,
I’ll stay until
the floor’s at rest.
The parts you gave
that I protect,
you take them back
you hold intact.
hearts returned
heads rediscovered,
a moment shared
a mind recovers.

you’re leaving now
we both are changed,
through what was shared
through what became.
my tools are shaped
by each new us
that walks into
the chair across.
I use my head
I use my heart,
one without other
couldn’t start
to fathom what
its like to be
the person sat
across from me.

a person sat
across from me
bears the things
I fear to see,
opens space
that’s stilled around
the sound of truth
pursued by hounds.
discriminates
like northern star,
a lit path cleft
through darkened scar,
truth seeps like pain
through fractured mind,
integration
aches that bind.

both chairs,
the reach,
the possibility,
to bear
our shared
humanity.
no difference
in the
space between,
the bridge?
our
universality.

kempspace

stars

that part
can only sit in a field of daisies and
stare up at the stars
at wishes seemingly as distant
and unfathomable.

kempspace

fight

what a fool
to think too small
to rush and grasp
loose sight and focus

when no doubt
a moment out
would find control
an inner locus

racing hard
to leave the start
in bitter fight
against unconscious

day is won
when story’s spun
with threads that lead
from dark to conscious

kempspace

social tedium

Facebook Facebook everywhere
byte-size chunks of think
pages, status, dare to share,
to travel to the brink,
of every timeline’s life and times,
and some, the kitchen sink.
projections shown, carefull honed,
the missing link? to sync.

kempspace

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