Greetings Everyone!
It’s been some time since I posted… several months at least, just wanted you to know I’m alive, coping, creating, taking one day at a time.
I might even be ready to start interacting again.
Hope Life has been treating you well.
Sharonlee Goodhand Poet and Image Weaver
For serious poetic fantasy lovers…
SIRIDEÁN SÚILEABHÁN – Dark Eyed Searcher
By Sharonlee Goodhand
*
Legend has it that she with the crystal ball
will come with all the answers…
she, sorceress of southern climes
the Dark Eyed Searcher
and so the seers plot by season & stars
the time of her arrival…
the people wait and tend their roles
and whisper prayers… soon… please come soon
Sirideán Súileabhán sorceress of our salvation…
It is said, that Sirideán reads signs like no other
that her travels in realms unreachable have harvested much wisdom…
Sirideán is the sorceress all sibyls go to for guidance
the sultry Dark Eyed Searcher that all wizards & magi
secretly lust after on moonlit nights …
the one Earthly woman all gods yearn to own…
But it is also said the dark-eyed Sirideán
walks heaven and earth & cosmos alone… a solitary candle in the darkest of nights;
her obsidian eyes…
View original post 1,020 more words
Wingless
Particles cling
peripheral vison
see’s unseen shadows
I
saw new horizons
over the
machinery of cities
lost connections to
the moors…
where the bracken fern, an
unwitting witness
of supernatural darkness
flying on Earth with a whisper of night,
and songs of
cities contemplating
the burning fire…
– smog hisses thick
pervasive
on
Earth
laden with grit
stops the flight of wings,
I
saw –
a
raven
contemplating the machinery of
civilisation…
wingless, I saw myself
standing in a
dimly lit vacuum
unable to reach the essence
Of Time…
glossy black
feathered
wings clipped by
social structure
I saw myself standing
in chilling limbo
– the Doors to silence
beyond my reach …
I saw new horizons
over the
machinery of cities
lost connections to
the moors…
forever hovering
on the threshold of flight
nothing more than a caged bird.
*
SharonleeGoodhand
There is a more to me than simply my spoken words
more than the rhymes that spill and spin onto a page…
… there is more to me than what you see;
Thoughts run deep in those hours when sleep is foreign
and minutes tick deafeningly into the seething silence…
… contemplations race helter skelter into chaos
night breathes heavy in the echo between unheard sighs
where remnants of wistful melancholy breed moments of desolation …
Is this life
these days that stretch and tumble and drag into yesterdays lived
but not breathed, as one might breathe in the very essence of communion –
lived, without soul connection and spiritual union, the synergy of
souls joined, connected through mutual understanding of love
and what love is…
Reality stares out from a two faced mirror, trading looks with destiny
and caught between the two… I hold together what’s left of me
for there is a more to me than simply my spoken words
more than the rhymes that spill and spin onto a page…
… somewhere a heart beats in time with mine
I hear the steady pulse in the echo of my soul
the sweet rhythm of their breathing
rocks me to sleep at night
and if it is meant to be, that we never find each other in this life
perhaps… perhaps we will come together
– in our next.
*
Poetry & Art SharonleeGoodhand©
Authoritarian hierarchical
will not silence me
gunboat diplomacy
will not silence me
I do not fear them
– jail me, starve me, deny me
the innate rights of all humanity
I will not fear them
They cannot
will not
silence my words
my art
my thoughts
my heart
I will not be silenced
I will not sit quietly
obediently
while this chaos reigns
I will not turn a blind eye
to the violence and pain
I will not ignore starvation
death of innocents
extinction of species
I will not be silenced
take my name and number, if that feeds your ego
but I will NOT be silenced.
*
Art & Poetry – SharonleeGoodhand©22-Nov-15
