New Beginnings -and a new poetess!

first a gentle breeze
ripples through the landscape -
the new wind of change
Miss Gan Ching

Ghost

I saw you yesterday
you passed me in the street, talking to a friend
you didn't see me.

I stopped and turned
watching you walk away
your familiar lope
Those hands

Your face is etched in my mind forever,
despite my efforts to forget
your jawline, hard
your soft mouth
and unreadable eyes.

And with that brief sighting
my heart filled up with pain:
memory of the pain you caused me
and my ever-present longing
to be with you.

Time's healing, undone
I leant against the wall
senses reeling
your voice in my ears
your taste in my mouth
a synaesthetic tide
flooding my body
as each sensory function merged with the next
triggered by the sight
of you walking away from me again
Olivia

Untitled - by Dr Maroon

After the rains come fresh breezes,clearing out the heavy air and refreshing the spirit.

Thank you Dr Maroon for crafting this exquisite piece. Not only does it have a special meaning for me, but, as our friend Miss Redhead pointed out, most aptly, anyone who has survived the bad times, will appreciate these sentiments.

Carefree, a child among the rock pools,
Paddling, in the warm sandy ripples
Inviting water warm,
Calm with fishes
Strong over-arm strokes take him out a bit
The water’s colder here
Not quite so pleasant
A bit of cramp
No panic yet
Although there’s a current now
Bit more effort
Still in control
Bit of a swell
The sea’s gone grey
Full power now
The smallest tug of panic
Just as suddenly
Feet back on the sand
Wading ashore into the sunlight
Warm and dry
But turn and look
This is not his shore
The Rubicon has been crossed.
Dr AHK Maroon

The Wish

If I could find one,
just one friend
to know me,
My loneliness would slip from my shoulders
like a dressing gown
revealing my naked person,
its beauty and its flaws

There can be no greater isolation
than to be around those,
who feel they know who I truly am

All that they know is their own projection,
a likeness of a person,
a rough drawn scrawl on the back of an envelope,
two dimensional, rushed,
a vulgar grasp of two, three traits
at best similar, but never the same.

As the years pass, the distance between
me, and the people who would know me
neither widens nor narrows,
but stays at an eternal, uncomfortable length.
For two paths that meander will surely cross at some point
parallel lines never meet,
the gap between our different life journeys
is filled
with ignorance and sadness.

I am no better.
when I look at colours, mine
is surely a different shade of violet to yours
and what makes my heart tighten,
may leave you tepid.
Yet I would have you share the things
that make my soul soar,
regardless of your own reaction,
because I want you to feel
what it really is like to be me.
Olivia Harris