Samantha G K

447

Name: Samantha Kennedy
Age: 41
Gender: Female
Location: Kent UK

Total Posts	Last Post	Last Seen	Joined
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where you can find me

Me & My guitar

You love,
those long metallic whispers,
how they fascinate your fingers
and smear your soul with rhyme.
I'll watch your mouth caressing
those shadows breathing word,
somewhere a voice is calling you,

and you are a bird:

You love
those killer curves,
which rest against the inner surge,
and man, the way it turns.
I'll watch your eyes sink into
a ghost you've never heard,
somehow that choice forgives you,

and you are a bird:

behind Closed Doors

I decided to
keep the blind down,
ignore the dog
and slow my breathing
till I thought I was dead.

-

To render me quiet
my eyelids stayed shut,
I avoided the beauty
in the view from outside.

-

I quietened the phone
by throwing it out,
and counted the raindrops
that battered the pane.

-

I drank too much whiskey
and fell through the sofa,
switched the TV to mute
watching actors lips move
...to the sound of my pulse.

-

I did not brush my hair
nor,
much did I care-
and I feasted on the wounds
I'd forgotten were there.

-

I ran the hot tap
in time with the cold,
stuck my toe in the stream of things
and let my dreams overflow

still....,

by morning,
the sun crawled lightly through my veins
and
smoothed out the creases ,
until I stood straight.

-

Today,

I'll leap into new pages,
and fall out
with
the shadows on my face.

Behind closed doors,

who

would have known.

S-G-K

When I Return

I used to know you,

smudge upon my mirror,

me.

Now, kaleidoscopic creases

pin the brow

& incoherent

bones

forget to bend the knee;

The mind sees what it wants to see.

Sometimes the silence

haunts my lips,

the diaphragm swells

a heartbeat skips

an ache

a pain

the tendency to trip.

When I am born again

remind me not to come as this…

I shall return with wings of steel

and feel no

ill.

Then I shall flit from blue to gold

……..Like a butterfly

that wont grow old,

how beautiful to be.

I used to know you,

smudge upon my mirror,

me.

S-G-K ©

thought on a park bench

The shades of day bear a bruised sky,
indigo air threading envious clouds
that pull a blistered sun;
And every shadow has begun
to creep and beg in ripened reds,
like welts they rise exposed in palms,
which dread.

Where go the wandering secrets?
White flecks expelled from
spotless tongues,
a butterfly on mornings song…
where no one cares to reach it;
Save for the ancient avenue
that lifts my feet
to meet those questions holding you.

On measured steps,
I drown regrets in puddles tainted blue-
In heaven I shall drink his wine
and care to dine and dare to chew,
a clemency that wakes the soul I should renew.
I do not grieve the lesion
on my hearts despair,
so leave it there
for all who care to view.

My fingers spread and open dreams
which weep relief;
I shall not die, I am not dead!
but buried in belief…
I've emptied out,
what I'd become,
forgiven,
beneath a bruised sky,
indigo air threading envious clouds
that pull a blistered sun.

S-G-K ©

~*~

It's not down to filling voids with pieces of pride,

before you fall.

It takes a lifetime to get acquainted with yourself,…

but only your last breath

to understand it all.

S-G-K©

~*~

me most of the time

A Weeping August

I am afloat,
an unanchored alteration
behind your gluttonous eyes,
a fluid flow
that reaches in
and soaks the soul.

Those conscious circles
as turquoise beads,
extract the rhythm,
until the heart unfurls
and her naked toast
unties the spine
with blushes.

And when you sleep I view your brow
allow the skin to abandon
a weeping August,
but I still glimpse the ocean
embracing the sun,
and a slice of the moon,
a golden sail,
at our fingertips.

S-G-K©

My Occupation

Reiki III, Writer...

la de da

Create a playlist at MixPod.com

.

My first love in life are my children-

my sons have flown the nest, but visit me often, if only to nestle under my wings at times.
I live with my daughter & dog, by the ocean-
I walk, eat, breathe poetry, it is a soul companion for me-
I read, read, and read some more, for it is in doing so, that I continue to learn.
I am spiritual, and love to be outdoors, taking photographs;

When the weather confines me to home I put my hand to painting.

I play harmonica, guitar and the didge,
congas djembe and bongos,music is everything to me....

I love the silence of first light, and the embrace of twilight.

Life is magical.

I study Reiki, and healing is a huge part of my life-that is the path I am comfortable walking.
My writings are often viewed as sad, and I have come to realise that perhaps a part of me was born this way- so I am happy to release it.
I have a wonderful poetic family online- and aspire each day to the gifts they bring in written word.
I am grateful to them all.

Poetry & Photography-SGK©

TIDE

The shores unfold,
shivering where the horizon scratches the sky,
like a tie-dye scar
yawning in the amethyst morning.

And I am upside-down
in that growing smile.
Beneath white specks
of weeping feather
strangers pass by
as ribbons of flesh.

I watch their steps
abandon the dreams
and rise up in dust,
charcoal smudges
behind the followers eyes.

I'll allow my feet to surrender the water,
exhale a beautiful secret into
the turning blue;
Let it all slip away soundlessly,
then perhaps I can swallow the echo,

of what I've

become.

S-G-K

Moments

The eye reminds the mouth
to smile,
the dream, sleeps ignorant, beneath those growing greens
which drape in lustrous growth.

Memory fools the thought to grieve;
The body sinks,
the earth is fed with me-

I shall lie down, forget to breathe.

Far off the trail where no one knows the way
the wakening rains will contradict the sun,

and cleanse the heat~
~ and rid that burning beat

so that
my spine will weep a slower hum.

But,

this molting skin will wake in the art of happiness,
such bliss shall flood the vein and move my sight
to harvest long awaiting tears...
soaked in awkward bright.

Summer, moves my shadow,
dark escaping light,

somewhere,

…………………… I'll become a rainbow.

S-G-K ©

The things I like to do

Samantha G Kennedys' MYSPACE
^
Click to visit

Poetry,
Spiritual Healing/Reiki,
Art/ Photography-
Didge & Harmonica-
Guitar

folk/blues/rock festivals-

Blues

Unnoticed

My hips
slip,
grazing the space beside you,
and your hands inspire to pinch the drop,
smooth time, between fingers...
but it's the blistered sips
from your impoverished lips,
I find I want to watch.

Don't catch me questioning
the strangers subsistence in
a claret reflection,
but spy your fortune circle
the porcelain patterns
of your inside-out cup...
until it tires,
and dries,
much like running out of hope.

The light switches heat,
allows your soul
the will to reach
and stain its colours on the door
as it passes underneath
where cabalistic corners
cannot breathe.

I'll stay here
imagining tall windows opening,
then dare to lean out

and scream.

S-G-K