Redemption – Poem of the Month – July 2018

Redemption

The morning star
Still visible in the early sky
A whisper of a breeze stirs the bushes
Releasing a butterfly

Big, lazy drops of rain
Fall dampening my hair
A dog barks in the distance
Under someone’s back stair

A cardinal sits high on a branch
Capturing the essence in his morning song
Squirrels squeak their messages
As if to play along

A plethora of flowers drink the rain
Puddles waiting to evaporate
Sunshine hiding inside clouds
Ready for the drops to dissipate

Raising my arms to the sky
I unfold the origami of my limbs
Stretching, hands open to the universe
And send up my sins

Another new day is here
Another chance for redemption
My thoughts become clear
As I witness the sun’s ascension

Gratitude warms my body
I know I have been blessed
The sun reflects the raindrops
And a rainbow manifests

Christine Bolton

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Life Patterns

Two lost souls wandering
Life had broken the heart
Born same place and time, yet
Three thousand miles apart

Opposites in every which way
Growing and learning
Fighting life’s battles
All the while yearning

Affection withheld
When so desperately needed
Tricked by those convincing them
To go there unheeded

In disguise to dupe
Love appeared from the blue
Confusing and manipulating
Never proving to be true

Love was a weakness
It was an Achilles heel
Difficult to hold on to
Like a slippery eel

Pain and torture
Of trying again and again
Handing out life’s résumé
Never knowing when

Some would turn on the crazy
Never knowing what you’d get
Hokey-pokey relationships
You’re in, you’re out, never a duet

To embrace the notorious game
Somehow continuing to look
Knowing each other was out there
Until discovered by hook or by crook

So similar were the life patterns
They were smitten instantly
Their pieces came together
Fitting each other beautifully

Bodies and minds now intertwined
Looking back at the past
Coming from different worlds
And celebrating together at last

Christine Bolton

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The Job That Never Was

“Blimey”, said Eric, as he noshed on the pie and mash lunch at Cookes, the best pie shop in the East End of London.  “Are you sure we can pull off a job like that?”

“Yeah, ‘course we can” answered Freddy, “As long as we’re not stupid and keep mum about it.  You know the docks are on the Krays patch, yeah?”

The two were a couple of wide boys, living on their wits.  Crafty and street smart, but intellectually challenged.  The notorious Kray Twins were London’s Gangland Kings. They ruled over their manor with murder and a violence that made your blood curdle.

Eric and Freddy had not thought their plan through very carefully.  They were known for their petty theft and some home burglaries, but they were not violent.  This new hair-brained schemed involved holding up a container transporting electronics from Asia.  The cargo would be unloaded down at the East India dock and transferred to a lorry destined for a warehouse in Milton Keynes.  The problem was they had to organize a large enough transport to move the stuff and likely would need weapons to pull off a job this size.  Neither of them had the contacts or the brains to mastermind something this big, and the docks were right in the middle of the Krays’ turf.

Eric suggested, “Lets go down to The Blind Beggar tonight for a couple of pints and maybe we’ll suss out out Jimmy the Fingers.  ‘e usually knows what’s going down and maybe he can give us a lead on a couple of sawn off shotguns.”

“You know, you can be a right nutter when you wanna be”, said Freddy.  “We’re going to get ourselves nicked by the Old Billmessing with guns.”

He continued, “Worse still, if the Krays get wind of this we’ll end up wearing concrete shoes and feeding the fishes at the bottom the Thames.”

“Yeah, well… maybe you’ve got a point there”, said Eric.  “ ‘ow about we knock over this pie shop instead?  That till must be packed with cash”

Christine Bolton

In response to Three Things Challenge June 26: Nicked, Nutter, Nosh

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The Reader

Sweet sounds of the mourning dove
The sun filtering through the trees
A clearing full of buttercups and
Daisies fluttering in the summer breeze

You are sitting under the oak
Reading your book so intently
Not noticing my arrival
I observe you patiently

Your hair thick and dark
Glasses on the tip of your nose
Long legs stretched out
Sitting in a comfortable pose

Your book is of course a classic
Catcher in the Rye
You have read it a dozen times
Only you know why

You are in your special place
I do not want to disturb
Happy to be observing you
I will not perturb

Engrossed in your reading
I will watch you for a while
You do not see me
But I am giving you a smile

In nature’s mystical playground
Infused with its energy
I yearn for you from afar
But we can no longer be

I am your past
Gone now from this life
We were once together
When I was your wife

Christine Bolton

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Contrary

Contrary

I say black
You say white
You’re strange, I joke
Vehemently offended
You respond with spite

Always outraged
Forever the victim
The aggressor jumps down my throat
Robbing my mouth of words
As if his was the hand bitten

Walking in a minefield
Paralyzed in space
Not knowing where to tread
Gingerly stepping
Memories to efface

Behavior contrary
No grey area
To meet in the middle
Just you versus me
Provocative hysteria

The battle is fought
A winner has to prevail
Harmony is lost
Never in your wheelhouse
Sanity does fail

Who do you see
When you look at me
An adversary or lover
Someone to bait
Or someone who might agree

What is important to you
Is it the fight to be right
Winning the ultimate prize
Victorious in the onslaught
Risking the opponent’s flight

Christine Bolton

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Escape from Chaos

Desperate to escape the chaos
I reach for my formula of medicine
Journal and writing implements in hand
Slipping quietly into oblivion

My thoughts become an epiphany
Exploding in my head
Furiously I write them down
Capturing all before they are dead

The clear night
Gave forth to brilliant stars
Lighting the sky
Like a fireflies in jars

The soft breeze
Was calming my soul
Musical leaves fluttering
I will soon again be whole

My words move quickly
Across the page
Reminiscent of ballerinas
Dancing on a stage

My heart empties
Its tears of pain
Forming verse so beautiful
Reminding me I am sane

When inside my head
Becomes dark and captured
I can set the demons free
With writings enraptured

Flowing effortlessly
Like waters in a stream
Unleashed onto paper
As if in a dream

Therapy for my head
The jumbled pieces of my brain
Coming together in harmony
My heart does not beat in vain

The pen is mightier than the sword
My words are my power
Grounded by my enlightenment
While adversaries inhabit ivory towers

Christine Bolton

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Save The Sailor From The Sea

Demoralized and discouraged
Surrender to the darkness
That will surely come
Life held in the balance
Leaving it heartless

Joy drowning
Breathless and weakened
Laughter comes no more
Spirit trodden and squashed
Thoroughly beaten

Treading the troubled water
Exhausted by endeavor
Resistance fading fast
Hope is lost at sea
Now gone forever

Voice weakened from the cry
Who would have listened
Words fallen on deaf ears
Nobody cared
He was as if imprisoned

Nothing left to fight for
Not one possibility
Insignificant and invisible
Was is life
Save the sailor from the sea

Christine Bolton

© 2018 Poetry for Healing

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Trigger

Trigger

There is a trigger
I unknowingly squeeze
Time after time
I’m blindsided
God help me please

Not recognizing
All the warning signs
I stumble blindly
On your mood this day
Failing to read between the lines

On reflection
It was there to see
In plain sight
Why did I not know?
So foolish of me

Clear indications
Of your displeasure
Slowly building
Gaining strength
Difficult to measure

I had opportunities
To notice the clues
But once more I failed
Blind to the fact
You would soon accuse

The last interaction
Was highly explosive
We are struggling
To find our way back
From a place so corrosive

More than a squabble
It was a full-blown fight
Once more we jump
On the merry-go-round
Too eager to incite

I don’t know how
To keep us afloat
I navigate your angst
Running on to the rocks
And capsizing the boat

Until we find common ground
And begin the repair
There is no hope for us
We will surely drown
In our mutual despair

Christine Bolton

Daily Word Challenge: Squabble

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What Happened To Us?

What happened to us?

Give me your tired, your poor
Your huddled masses
Lady Liberty welcomes you
You can escape the classes

Come here, it will be safe
You will be able to flourish
Bring your family with you
So they can be nourished

America was founded
So those could flee
Oppression in their native land
Come to America and be free

Sadly this is not the case anymore
America has its own oppressor
Preposterous that he has been allowed
To become an aggressor

Putting children in cages
What a despicable plan
Crying for their Mama
The work of a bogeyman

How can this happen here
His party is enabling
He speaks only to his base
Dividing and dismantling 

This is so far removed from liberty
What kind of person cannot relate
To the plight of these families
America is no longer great

Christine Bolton

Fandango one Word Challenge Preposterous

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