Woman on a Cliff's Edge

Drunk with fatigue

her weary steps

progressed along the path

and toppled her

not caring, over

precipices of despair.

©Eleanor Clark

5 October 2011

Earthbound Elyssium

Oh brave band of women

who bundle up

those dreams and images

of fat swaddled babies

and sun-filled cottages

in earthbound Elyssium.

Ye resolute Dianas,

not by choice but

Fate's e'er encircling

mists doth prod thee

onto a path

less trod and somewhat thorny

for want of wandering.

Yet thine feet

doth tread upon those bitter ways

watered oft by tears

where perchance 

ye might find a sun-speckled glade

untouched by time

to dream a while

and dance amongst

hoped for dreams and phantoms.

©Eleanor Clark

9 May 2011

Man of Hate

What turns a man to hate
and wither gentle feelings long forgot?

Does he hold within him
seeds of evil
germinated by weathering storms
of poverty,
oppression,
hate?

What turns the smiling boy
into a man of
blood and bombs,
that incendiary malice
fanning the fires
of infected hearts?

Do fiendish thoughts
and actions
lie in wait
to trap the disillusioned
trapped?

When did hungry tears
turn to course down
pain weathered cheeks
and drip on malice ridden
words?

What might have stemmed
the bitter tide,
and would we
have built the dam?

©Eleanor Clark
2 May 2011

untitled - 8 January 2011

Roles we wear

Discarded

At moments notice

On bedroom chairs and floors

Leader

Lover

Traitor

Friend

Mother

Daughter

Cowherd

King

Who are we really

in this 3-D contraption

called skin?

©Eleanor Clark

8 January 2011