Insomnia
Her restless eyelids open, kickback sleep
as thoughts overflow, reap worries
from overwrought days. Heartbeats
quicken, her skin sweats beneath the duvet –
its high tog, winter weight, squeezes musk
smells from below her ruched-up nightdress.
She rolls this way and that. Acid tension
agitates her trembling limbs. Exhausted,
for split seconds dreams ambush her.
Hallucinations almost pull her consciousness
thrashing down into oceans of somnambulance –
but no, saline currents sting, raise gashed
memories.
Wide awake again, she self-pleasures
to soothe her frenzy –
when spent, her mind still writhes as
daylight
prises apart gaps in blinds. Defeated,
she abandons bed, showers herself
clean into another grit-eyed day.
bonfire
night
smoke
catches
in her throat
her eyes water
owls hoot in bleak skies
her gloved hand reaches out
old expectations die hard
her chilled fingers envelope space
he stands back from autumn’s naked flames
did he once stand close enough to warm her
rockets
arc sprays of stars across inked skies
children’s ohhs and ahhs defy sadness
if only he were here to see
fresh wonder in young faces
a mittened hand tugs her
their small grandson bears
his granddad’s smile
present tense
is not
lost
His Mind Games
She steps out from her house today,
churned by rage, into wind and rain.
Her cheeks flare red, her mind is flayed,
his toxic words crow in refrains.
He undermines her motherhood,
his cruel taunts drive her insane.
She heads for lonely, darkened woods,
his toxic words crow in refrains.
She clutches her babe to her chest,
starts to run as her thoughts derange –
she’ll seize her longed-for, lasting rest.
His toxic words crow in refrains.
She stepped out from her house today:
his toxic words crowed in refrains.
[Kyrielle
Sonnet]
Devotion
response to Trinity by Adélia Prado
Can you live on a diet of dreams …
Yes, even those conjectures
inspired by your god …
In stripping you bare –
ignoring your howls
of despair and longing,
how is he god …
What nightmares
weld your lust for Him,
for your Jonathan,
to your mortal damnation…
Should you be judged wanting
by a god, dour and dominant,
his eyes socketed in rock …
You and Jonathan:
your fingers brushed, your eyes
slow-danced with His and traced shy love-lines
to taste the laden dishes of your feast.
Did you want Him to know your fuck-ache …
Did you burn together,
or did you dream His kisses …
Your love for Him, for Jonathan, out-spans
god’s love for you – god’s frigid caritas,
his pulseless power is cruel. Or
do you need Jonathan to be Divine
to sanctify your human hunger …
Embrace Him, attend not on
god’s absolution. When Jonathan
enters you, believe your
love. Defy your god
to reinstate him as God
and honour your sacred sex.
Ardnamurchan Point
After miles on single tracks sharp-bended,
she arrives. Far from home, unrestrained,
she’s free to jump way down.
Waves lick and crest, spit spray into sunless air. Wet
drops spurt salt winds, sting dry eyes,
ones that have refused to cry.
Pent up drops of sadness, gritted gobs of
grief,
so poorly understood, drag her to the cliff.
Her gaze pulls down to whirlpools, hypnotised.
A stranger’s voice blasts, Listen. Look. She’s
shocked
awake. The speaker’s crunched-rock tones skim over rocks,
press her empty ears to listen, direct her dead eyes to stare
and there they
are. a
lively pod.
Bottle-nosed dolphins jump, arc
and dive, as fresh crescendos rise again and again
sleek forms rear with grace to punctuate the swell
of savage waves.
On this iced granite day,
these creatures save her, slap her back to life
at Ardnamurchan Point.
Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon
Ceinwen lives near Newcastle upon Tyne, UK and writes short
stories and poetry. She is widely published in online magazines and in print
anthologies. Her first
chapbook was published in July 2019: 'Cerddi Bach' [Little Poems], Hedgehog Press. Her first pamphlet is
due to be published in 2021. She is
a Pushcart Prize (2019 & 2020) and Forward Prize (2019) nominee and holds an MA in Creative Writing from Newcastle
University, UK (2017). She believes everyone’s voice counts.
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