Category: Healing

Assault

Assault

His voice was husky
With breath of whiskey
In his eyes he took me
I felt a shiver down my spine
He had the look of a swine
He thought he was a somebody

His hands on my body touching
My fists  tightly clenching
I wanted to retch
Mauling me like an animal
I was trying to be rational
As he pushed me against the ketch

The marina was poorly lit
And this deplorable wouldn’t quit
No one heard me shout
The weekend noise
Was covering my cries
I was being assaulted no doubt

He’s telling me I want it
I’ve been asking for it
As he viciously bit my lip
My knee jerks upward
And he just got suckered
Loosening his grip

My attacker once ruthless
Now bent over useless
Writhing in justified pain
I pushed him to the ground
Enjoying his whimpering sound
He won’t try this again

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Deplorable

Week

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Not Worth It

Not Worth It

She stood fearlessly
On the balcony wall
One more step
And she could end it all

Not that she would
She just wanted to scare
A brief moment of power
Silently saying a prayer

What is the point
of anything anymore
His hateful words
had cut her to the core

Time and again
she would acquiesce
Living with him
was like a game of chess

She always had to be
Two steps ahead
To know what was coming
Or fear to tread

This day was like
Just any other
She was only breathing air
But to him it was a bother

He was irritated as usual
With what she was doing
A fight ensued
It was always brewing

Emergency vehicle sirens
Sounding in the distance
Probably coming for her
To offer their assistance

Digging deep in her soul
Searching for serendipity
This is letting him win
She’d had an epiphany

Stepping down from the ledge
Her strength had returned
The power was hers
The tide had turned

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Serendipity

Balcony

Acquiesce

Emergency

OctPoWriMo – Poem a Day #16 – Catch me when I fall

 

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Wounded

Wounded

I love your gentleness
Even though I see your fire
You are a wounded soul
Who fights
I feel your ire

Rugged exterior
But silently brooding
Your spirit bruised
Its power immense
But always eluding

Your head
is lit by the moon
Your heart
darkened by the storms
Your body has been hewn

Let me heal you
Protect you from harm
Light the way
Out of the tunnel
And your enemies disarm

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

 

Word Prompts:

Rugged

Silent

Immense

Moonlit

OctPoWriMo – Poem a Day – #9 – Love

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Different Animals

Different Animals

Anticipating your response
Of what will surely come
I brace for the onslaught
My nerves tightening
As I become more fraught

Vacillating the point
Until we were drained
Back and forth and back again
Wishing it would end
But the winner does not yet reign

Storming off in anger
I see you under the lamppost
Smoking a cigarette
Exhausted from the argument
I prefer solitude feeling a threat

After an abundance of angst
You come back in the house
Our boiling has lowered to a simmer
Your eyes find mine
and hope is now a glimmer

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Anticipate

Brace

Vacillate

Lamppost

OctPoWriMo – Poem a Day – Prompt: Strange Animals

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Recovery

Recovery

My capacious heart
Full of affection
Secretes slowly
The love you need
Like an intravenous injection

Your wounded soul
Beaten and bruised
Crying to be nurtured
And healed
No longer misused

Let me nourish
Your spirit and mind
With milk and honey
Infuse them with strength
Until once more entwined

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Capacious

Secrete

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I am a Rock

I am a Rock

This small round stone
Has warmed in my hand
It is smooth and colorful
From where did it come?
Perhaps the hinterland

How did it get here?
Who has held too?
Was it part of something
much bigger
Or just a rock in the fescue?

Energy from the pebble
Is soothing my soul
I am connected to nature
At peace with myself
And feeling ultimately whole

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

In response to D’Verse Poets Tuesday Challenge from Sarah Mindfulness

We were asked to hold an object for a period of time and then write about it.

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Freedom

Freedom
did not come easy
She fought hard
for what was truly hers
Stolen from her
with his lying words
feeding her ego
Promising a fantasy

She could not recall
When it happened
One day he had control
and he ruled her world
Her voice stolen
and thoughts buried deep
unable to share
This the beginning
of her downfall

Increasingly taciturn
she allowed him
to become her mouthpiece
She cooked and cleaned
and wore what he chose
Her once professional
appearance now quaint
She had become his slave
Reaching a point of no return

Inside her silent anger raged
What had she become?
A shadow of her former self
Until the day she found
her strength
and voice
Reaching out to those
Who could help
free her from the cage

Reflecting on her bondage
She pondered the cause
of her personal plight
Her heart had made the decision
Her brain, the excuses
Her head finally argued
and liberty became hers
Now she flies solo
Never again a hostage

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Quaint

Taciturn

Personal

Solo

Go Dog Go Cafe – Promote Yourself Monday

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Flower and Flour

Flower and Flour

Flowers in the rain showers
Drinking their wine
Soaking in the goodness
Drenching the vine

Flowers for senses
Pleasing the eyes and nose
Calla Lilies, Freesias
And the red, red, rose

Flowers for healing
Lavender and Eucalyptus
Remedies for ailments
From fruits of the citrus

Flour from corn and wheat
Rye and barley
Ground in the mill
Making good whisky

Flour in the kitchen
Mixing into the cake
Self-rising goodness
For the perfect bake

Flour in cookies
A different bouquet
Confections galore
A sweet array

Flower or Flour
Both provide pleasure
And healing qualities
Measure for measure

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Linda G Hill’s Stream of Conciousness Saturday Flower and Flour

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Driven

Driven

The street her catwalk
The clothes her haute couture
Head held high
She strutted her stuff
At sixteen she was quite mature

Wrong side of the tracks
Not a good start to life
Being posh elevated her
confidence
Avoiding the strife

Able to work this
To get what she needed
Knowing herself
Trusting herself
A few years conceded

Love on the streets tonight
For sale at a price
Your place or mine
The front seat of your car
She could add a little spice

She had their number
Her expertise fortuitous
A carnival of sexual needs
She had seen it all
Separating herself from anxious

Sometimes there was violence
The Johns were abominating
The older girls looked out
not always able to protect her
She rarely saw it coming

She didn’t remember
How many there had been
Mostly it was a blur
Soon she would have enough
To say goodbye to the obscene

The end justified the means
She was almost there
Suck it up for a little longer
A few more tricks
Then nothing left to share

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Anxious

Carnival

Posh

Number

Fortuitous

 

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Therapy

Therapy

Drawing her strength
being in the elements
Her mentor had become nature
Walking at the golden crepuscule
when the sun disappeared
was her portraiture

Beauty surrounding her
her mind felt cleansed
The coolness of the evening
calming the activity of the day
Having ample space to breathe
the experience healing

With clarity of mind
She realized now
her street smarts never failed her
Her instincts were right
A wolf in disguise
His identity a saboteur

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

 

Word Prompts:

Element

Mentor

Crepuscule

Smart

Ample

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