untitled - 22 march, 2016

some days you walk through hell,
unscathed - sometimes.
but today is not one of those
days.

bomb blasts, pain, horror, death -
become nonchalant afterthoughts
in the media-frenzied aftershock
of waiting for more news.

until the cycle repeats again.
and again.
and again.
and again.
and again.
and again.

when will this all be enough?

until only cockroaches remain
on the dusty ashes
of towns and tombs
amid the shrapnel of
what once were
men with guns claiming
this bit of land their own -

until a hundred years from
now, someone else will do the same.

© eleanor clark
22 march, 2016

acid pain

chronic pain
wears me out
like acid water
dripping through
my bones
into my veins
and heart
and brain
until "I"
no longer
remains

© eleanor clark

15 march, 2016

Snowflower

This love, it blossomed
as a flower in the
winter cold -
entombed in ice and snow
yet burrowing up
into the warmth
of your sunlit smile.

© Eleanor Clark
25 February, 2016

Change

Look -
one more time
in the mirror.
Tomorrow
will be different,
other, completely
not the same.
Nervous.
Terrified.
Stepping into
the river,
flowing swiftly
forward to
a future I
cannot tell.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
The coming
dawn will
be alight
with fiery
flame.

© Eleanor Clark
18 February, 2016