Teddy bears forgotten atop wardrobesCough dust as they yawn awakePeering patiently over the edgeWatching - watching the girlThey used to know.Would they be proud of who you’ve become?Your laughter used to animate their limbsLong picnics in parksFast frolicking in grandpa’s gardenA memory - long gone. What secrets could teddy shareKept behind stitched lips and beady… Continue reading Teddy – a poem
Tag: poetry practice
Powerlessness – a poem
Dry cracked palms pray - For better, better than this. Broken promises pierce pockets Pennies pouring into bottomless pits Foreigners found on shores - Imprisoned. Beautiful black men hands high Bloody. Same-sex Lovers lying in arms Denied. We plead. We pray. We play along... From high white thrones - They cackle. Monstrous men mighty. Footprints… Continue reading Powerlessness – a poem
And I’ll Be Fine, Happy Even (poem/journal entry)
*This is a poem, of sorts, but also just a stream of consciousness about the fears and pressures I've faced lately...* We'll find a house and make it our home. Draped in cosy comforts that feel like ours. It'll be tiring and imperfect but we'll make it work. And I'll be fine, happy even, just… Continue reading And I’ll Be Fine, Happy Even (poem/journal entry)
Copacabana NY (poem)
Underground space always alive. Awake. Laughter, clinking glasses, dancing heels the song of the sax chant of the cello pull of the piano. Each ever-moving body is clad, head to toe, in golds and silvers twinkling like stars, at night with every jig. Suit and tie are mandatory, here. Mystery is kept by smoky… Continue reading Copacabana NY (poem)
Broken Compass (poem)
Lost and uncertain The space between a forgotten past and an elusive future grows. Thickens. Stretching across the black sea I'm surrounded. My boat drifts along the endless landscape of time. My clock, ticks. Is it this way, or that? I've long been alone, here. Broken compass shifts, with each passing tide. Am I… Continue reading Broken Compass (poem)
The Ache of Knowing (poem)
It is a horrid thing. Knowing the exact weight of choice. Knowing, from here, you fly or you fall. This is it. Loud are the opinions, the "advice" and judgement of others. Tip-toe ahead... or leap? from the cliffside Will wings grow as I fall? It hurts to be so aware. And it's… Continue reading The Ache of Knowing (poem)
S. R. Crawford 