Tag: spilled ink

18/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

Today,
Autumn was glowing in amber.
The wind was blowing with anger.

Today,
My heart was glowing with echoes of you.
My perfume was blowing gently around me.

Do you remember this scent?

Violets in the spring.
Musk for the winter.
And sunshine for autumn.

Spring never came,
did it?

I remember you best

When I’m leaving.
When I’m running away.
When I’m turning away from a loving heart.

Was it how you felt?

When you walked away.
When you stopped answering.
When you faded into a breeze.

Life keeps on knocking at my door.
and I say no.

No, I don’t want him.
No, I don’t want this life.
No I don’t want to take this path.

The leaves scatter at my tired feet.
The mud settled around my bare feet.
The sand weighs over my sunken feet.

I cannot.
I will not.
I refuse.

But you will never answer my whisper.
But you will never turn around.
But you will never return to me.

Never.

Why do I stay here?
Why do I linger here?
Why do I take roots here?

People walk by.

Some talk to me about the world beyond.
Others take my hand and try to lure me to their own paths.
I want to find my own way.

The way back to myself.
The way back to my own realm.
The way back to me before you.

To walk away from the ruins of a delusion.
To walk away from a castle of dreams.
To walk away from something truer than reality

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is further that I can go.

17/09/19 14:00

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

There’s a green and golden field.
Far away.

There’s a turquoise and glass ocean.
Nearby.

There’s an emerald and amber forest.
Within me.

Where you stood next to me.

Before the world.
Before time.
Before life.

A summit within the stars.
A nest within a supernova.
A plain within a galaxy.

Spiraling
Intersecting
Merging.

It came back to me,

In a dream.
In a flash.
In a breath.

Was it centuries ago?
Was it now?
Was it after our death?

We stood,

Face to face.
Hand in hand.
Soul to soul.

And you finally could speak the truth :

You knew me.
You remembered me.
You loved me.

And we were finally free from

The veils of our world.
The pandemonium of our society.
The wounds of our lives.

Healed and whole.
Whole and healed.

I open my eyes.
I stand motionless.
and I look around me.

I am still here.
You are not.
This life must still be braved.

Without you.
Without your hand.
Without your words.

Holding on only to

A fading dream
A carefully crafted story.
A lingering yet unfathomable memory.

And to the One who created us together.
And to the One who brought us together.
And the One who will bring us together.

After this long journey.
After this long tribulation.
After this long darkness.

Back to that green field.
Back to that golden sunset.
Back to that crumbling castle.

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… And those unforgettable words.

17/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

There’s a man I once,

Dreamt of,
Wrote about,
And fell in love with.

I never named him.
I never saw his face.
I never talked of him.

Until you came along.

The same eyes,
The same light,
The same soul.

There you were.

Straight from all those books I devoured.
Straight from all those songs I sang.
Straight from all those dreams I weaved.

Unreal,
Uncanny,
Unattainable.

The stories I always dreamt of writing.
The man I always dreamt of meeting.
The life I always dreamt of living.

Could it be?
Could it be true?
Could it truly be true?

I asked everyone…
But you.

Where did the birds flew to?

Where the leaves fall.
Where the petals scatter.
Where the wind blew.

Ah that wind!
Lo that wind!

Setting fire to a whole forest.
Spreading waves  of radioactivity.
Scattering seeds of bitterness.

But you weren’t a story,
But you weren’t a character,
But you weren’t a dream…

You were but a broken man
You were but a lost boy.
You were but a real person.

So I watch the blackbird leave for the winter.
So I watch the finches packing their bags.
So I watch the robin redbreast waiting for the new year.

You are but a person.

These pages are too heavy for you.
These poems are too heady for you.
These dreams are too scary for you.

Too much,
Too soon.
Too late.

I repeat like a mantra.
I whisper like a prayer.
I write like a farewell.

and now, I don’t miss you.
and now I miss him.
and now I miss her too.

The one who was before.
Primeval.
The one who was always.
Primordial.
The one who was for me.
Primal.

And as the harvest moon rises.
I reap bits of hope again

And as the stars barely glimmer.
I gather wisps of dreams again.

And as the sun glides bravely.
I glean melodious songs again.

And I sing…

To the ever lasting trees,
To the late rising birds,
To the lingering sunsets.

And I sing…

For the children who will never know.
For the adults who will never remember.
For the man who will never return.

and I sing…

To the smiling girl who still dreams.
To the crying girl who still writes.
To the glowing girl who still hopes…

The maddest of hopes.
Hope against hope.
Fool’s hope.

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Hope.

09/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

Now that the birds are fleeing,
and the leaves falling,
and the petals scattering –

I can no longer be the girl you met in summer,
autumn is creeping over me;

shading me, sheltering me.
changing me, polishing me.
cradling me, burying me.

The summer berries’ taste is still lingering

on my lips
in my hair.
… my fingers.

But I can hear a call.
But I can hear a whisper.
But I can hear a song….

From deep in the forest.
From beyond the river.
From beyond my summer lair.

I must go,
I have to return.
I have to run and run…

Until I see it :

that glimmer in the sky
that spark in my heart
that glow in the distance.

Closer,
closer,
closer.

Here,

I can feel the wood under my hands,
I can feel the soft rug under my feet.
I can feel that gentle warmth on my skin.

Outside,
Outside the world is dying and decaying.

Inside,
Inside, our home is glowing and full of mirth.

Here and now,
Here and now, I am close to you and I am safe.

Every year,

when the leaves are aflame,
when the ground is cold,
when the birds have bid us farewell,

I take that path…

In the dark mud,
through the sleeping trees,
over the freezing river…

to the cabin.

Where the fire sputters,
Where the heart settles
Where the soul flies….

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and You wait.

08/09/19 15:00

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

Romeo and Juliet is a tale full of violence,
and death.
Not love.

Titanic is a tale full of madness,
and death.
Not love.

Twilight is a tale full of mental affliction,
and death,
Not love.

Never love.

But what of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy?
But what of John Thornton and Margaret Hale?
But what of Angélique and Joffrey?

This is love,
true love.
Isn’t it?

But what of you and me?

The mad rambling of a lonely creature.
The wild feelings of a sensitive woman.
The gentle pebbles of a dreamer sparrow.

Wool gathering,
Castle building,
Raindrops collecting.

Sand slipping through my fingers.
Ashes slipping through my fingers.
Seawater slipping through my fingers.

The wind,
The ever evasive wind.
Constantly

Never to be predicted,
Never to be perceived,
Never to be remembered,

by others.

Yet, always,

Waking me up at the death of night.
Drifting into my deepest sleep.
Floating over my ardent sunshine.

The wind;

Not a love story,
Not a love song,
Not a love poem;

A tale of madness,
A tale of sickness,
A tale of emptiness.

Loving without touching.
Loving without seeing.
Loving without speaking.

Only living in memories.
Only living in dreams.
Only living in words.

Only.

This isn’t love.
This isn’t life.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

It’s you and me.

04/09/19 12:33

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

I know you don’t care,
I know you don’t even know me.

But I have to tell you,

my love,
my life,
my hope;

that if I leave too,
I will never return.

Will you ever find that castle by the sea?
Will you ever find that hut in the woods?
Will ever find that cabin in the valley?

Will you even want to find it?

Behind the crest,
Under the oak and the aspen.
Far beyond the tree line, and beneath the everlasting ice.

But I will not be waiting.
But I will not be pinning.
But I will not be praying….

for you.

I will be living for me.

Filling my life with songs and stories.
Filling my silence with birds and cats.
Filling my heart with wonder and God.

Too far from the world of men.
Too far from the world of greed.
Too far from the world of decay.

To be tainted.
To be hurt.
To be held.

away, away,
my love.

I know you won’t wonder.
I know you don’t even wonder about me anymore. 

I know, I know,
Do I?

Don’t ask my laments.
Don’t ask my stories.
Don’t ask my soul….

Because you cannot handle my truth.
Because you cannot handle my love.
Because you canot handle me.

Just run,
run.
my love.

I am gone too, this time.
I am lost too, this time.
I am out of reach too, this time.

Never to return.

25/08/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

Hey,
look outside.

Hey,
look really hard.

Hey,
look please look!

My dear old friend is back.

Fiery yet greying.
Tempestuous yet cold.
Roaring yet decaying…

Autumn is back.

Along with the cold breeze.
Along with the return to reality.
Along with that deer old ghost.

Dear to me,
Yet deadly.

So I write long letters to others.
So I write long poems to you.
So I write long diatribes to myself.

And keep you out of it.
Yet in my heart you remain.

Will you ever leave?
Yet you are long gone.

Never to return.
Never to write.
Never to behold.

Gone.
And yet you remain.

They call autumn the season of farewells.
They call autumn the beginning of the end.
I call it the return of my love.

Leaf after leaf,
the pretenses are bared.

Drop after drop,
the confessions rise.

Flutter after flutter,
hope flies off and back.

Back to the feeling I cannot shake off.
Back to the hopes I cannot bury down.
Back to the dreams I cannot forget.

But I heard they are burning down the forests,
But I heard they are throttling down the truth.
But I heard they are choking down the birds.

and the stars,
the stars.
they watch helplessly.

Twinkling
Burning
Suffocating

So far away,
Like you.

But I canot get a glimpse of your glimmering eyes.
But I cannot get a glimpse of your glittering soul.
But I cannot get a glimpse of your waning heart.

Nothing but silence.
Nothing but darkness.
Nothing but dust.

Do I need a deep autumn cleaning to make the ghost scram?

05/08/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment 
 I close my eyes
 breathe in
 Breathe out.
 

 I can feel your pain.
 I can feel your struggle.
 I can feel your hopelessness.
 

 I open my eyes
 Look around
 Look about.
 

 You are not here.
 But I am here.
 

 With a soft voice
 I sing for you.
 

 With a strong voice
 I pray for you.
 

 With a voiceless voice
 I hold you.
 

 As I lay down to sleep
 I try to remember your face.
 

 As i settled down to sleep,
 I try to reach you.
 

 As fall down in sleep,
 I try to write to you.
 

 In my dreams,
 I write and I write.
 

 In my dreams
 I share and I share.
 

 In my dreams,
 I dare and I dare.
 

 And then I wake up,
 And I remember.
 

 And then I remember,
 how you you left.
 

 And you left,
 never to return.