thelibraryrooms

Young girls on fat ponies
That swish their tails against flies
Red rosette ready
They are hungry to win

“I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God has given you one face and you make yourselves another”

Well Mr Shakespeare I disagree

Firstly is there really a god?

And if so would he really be bothered what a woman’s face looked like?

I’m sure that he’d be no control freak

He’d be OK with a bit of evolution defining our cheekbones

And then some further annotations with lippy and blusher

Then I’d argue that it’s actually the patriarchal society that paints a woman’s face

Misogynists objectify and rewrite women in the image that they want

So any face painting isn’t the decision of an individual

But instead an example of man’s oppression and desire to make women comply with their ideals

I’m calling you out on this one…

The woman is supposed to be here to arbitrate

But her opening sentence seems unnecessarily antagonistic

I am dressed down with hair dyed red, piled on my head

I’m wearing something with some stain, unnoticed until too late to change

The other party is smart, ready with a list and a clipboard

It all seems like a difficult end to a difficult year

The division and discussion forms something like negotiation

I’m lost in thoughts of change, unsure

The conversation fades in and out, city noise through the open window

Sunshine and warm memories of pleasure keep distracting me

I listen again, the list is agreed, some form of solution

A resolution of sorts, never again will I be here

These are the final days of the year that stretched out forever

Never again, I hold onto the moment, taste the sounds of a place

That wound its way into my world and formed

Into memories and daydreams that last me a lifetime

We shake hands, three strangers, whose lives touched

For one hour and the span of a life well spent

You find words again
Hiccuping silence is over
You stumble towards sound
And find somewhere
Syllables that escaped you

You link silence to sadness
Seek to fill empty space
You whisper your words
Haunt a room made of rumours
With the wisdom someone lent

Your borrowed insight flags
You seek out corners, contemplate
The crowds gather and escape
Your haunting drags against past
dreams and clashes with him

Your restless excesses 

Make him fret

You present

A possible solution

He is not impressed
#micropoetry

Four letters

One word

A girl’s name

#micropoetry

I am caught

Between two worlds

In one

I know the name of the roads

But not how to exit

In the other

I speak the language

But know no names

First, they sculpt hillsides from heaps

Shape my landscape

Add dimensions and distance

And time passes

Then, they form pathways

Fire roads and footpaths

That form borders and order

As time passes

Gravel pits fill from rainfall

Creatures find home

At the end of a spring, frogs spawn

And time passes

The wood pigeons clatter in branches

Shadows of wings storm through space

Birds sing out the words of a song

As time passes

They turn what was into what will be

Fashion a future from pasts that hold fast

Fists wrapped round fences

And time passes

Trees grow from saplings to strength

The earth yields a glory of green leaves

A fabric of flowers, foxgloves, bluebells, poppies and primrose

As time passes

They sow the seeds, plant into bare earth, turn barren land

Into my land

Return to fertile earth,

Return my land

You bring me unmatched buttons

In a box

From under the stairs

Stones, from a far away beach

A mouse’s nest for the hedgehog box

A collection of things

Broken ornaments that need to be mended

Cold hearts, which you warm

Old friends, who you reminisce with

These are the things that you bring

You wrap them in tin foil

And baking paper

While you sing

Words to a song that you remember

You bring me sunshine.

Everything was covered in dust.

When we returned

To a heat hazy, lazy summer.

And found out how far we could go.