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For what reason does the soul sing a symphony of words?


A celebration of life,

I ponder what is such without poetry?

And what is poetry without life?

But for the empty void of letters amassed

together to create a void of

existence nullifying to the soul…

Karen Hayward ©2017




A passing essence of lost hope.

Your soul is empty,

your spirit waned,

’tis the reason you

play desperate games.

A master of words, they slip

from your tongue, soothing

the edges whilst you have your

fun. The world is created

through images of flesh,

and you consider them this or,

perhaps a bit less. You play and

you take your feelings so fake.

A whirlwind of fantasies out rank

life’s realities. But when day break

comes and you’re all out fun, you’re

going to realise whilst you were playing the field

with nothing to build,

she passed you by, that single one.

Karen Hayward ©2017


I was going to

I wanted to 

I’ve needed to

But every time

I go to ..

KH© 2017

I am but a whisper 

I am but a silent whisper 

A petal lost on the breeze.

An autumn leaf  burned 

Orange, delving into a sea 

Of red. I am but porcelain

Or finest lace, softest satin

Warmest cashmere, i am but

The morning birds you hear.

I am but serene glass, celestial

Dance, divine beauty, star dust. 

I am but star dust dancing 

In the sun’s rays. 

I am but a whisper

Hiding beneath this warrior. 
Karen Hayward*©2017

If time is linear…?


So tell me my sweet,

whisper it too me as I sleep.

If it is so that time is linear

then those days that we believe(d)

that the Oceans mist beckoned

to our souls in ancient whispers

of love’s unity traversing the

barrier of time,

perhaps, I ponder now,

that we were wrong,

for in the sea’s golden mist

I hear now a souls song.

The guiding light of purity

embracing me upon this shore.

The ebbing tide that caresses our minds

and teases the contours of our spirit

the distant call of past lives, an eternity

in love and now it is, my dearest sweet

that I hear your voice upon the sea,

a linear promise that you are guiding me

true love traversing time, forever in unity.

Karen Hayward *2017

Image and words.




To rise again…


The time has come that I must

again stand upon my feet

and go forth

into this world.

Rising from the ashes

your spirit

now the ink within my pen,

your love is the voice within

my words… and yet still my legs

shake as a new born deer does on her

first arrival.


Image found on Pinterest

The world, it sounds all too noisy. 

Cars swishing through puddles 

Raindrops slamming into pools

Of momentary stagnant waters. 

Worn shoes pounding concrete. 

Birds screaming, echos drifting. 

Wind whistling a storm through

Blossoming leaves,

Branches creaking in dying trees. 

People talking, thoughts uttering,

Teeth gnashing, tongue slurping,

Fingers wringing. 

Flowers peeling back petals a slow

Mechanical grinding of iron on iron.

Life exploding into chaotic sound…

And all I want is silence. And all I 

Want is silence. 

What screams but the howling banshee…

To be or not…To be…Now that, is the question,

I will drown in this sea of indiscretion.

To spill anger will condemn me in the pits of selfish need,

Yet, to grieve without voice I am warned, take heed. 

To break a promise of magnitude on created trust

Would dispell the eagle’s and thier scornful lust,

Yet still I saunter on purpose edge of qualms

Self imposed malice, pointless wars meant only to harm. 

I feel echoless screams erupt from my soul,

Pele? She has nothing on this ancient Celtic Doll. 

To be or not…Lingers the crossed eyed devil,

As his soldiers fickle and sweet revel. 

My growl a soft rumbling hiss,

Still calmed I see by your celestial kiss. 

Still calmed I see by the essence of you

Turns out what we thought…Was true. 


From the centre of conformity. 

Fuck everyone!

That’s poetry right? 

Losr vortex of hope. 

Screw you,

let reality burn 

in the lost embers 

of hope.