ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
My existance is based around love. And i'm hoping that one day, I will be discovered, like a shooting star, and named after someone before I disappear. [July 2002]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (2) Moving On (Poetry) This is a collection of verse that portrays my feelings towards journeys that had to be made by me. [940 words] [Travel] The Love I Feel For You (Poetry) These are poems I wrote a while ago, when all I could do was sit and watch the one I love and completely at ease. [460 words] [Relationships]
Life's Work Elizabeth Jessica Allen
Counteract
I have never felt more alone
Than how I feel when I lose the one I loved.
The whole world disappears from view, -
As I fall rather than fly over the pain.
A contradiction of feelings
Like a flipbook I go from tragedy
To happiness; then the cycle starts again
As someone plays with my emotions like a toy.
Sitting on a lonely park bench,
As the people hurry by as though I am
A dirty pigeon lady or bag woman,
As though I am about to steal their happiness.
Occasionally I am a busker: -
Where people who pity me throw
What measly feelings they can spare.
For the more talented, the less u receive.
A sunset, with missing colours
As a soon approaching storm steals them away.
And the darkness that falls after the rain
Hides the rainbow that promised to show.
A Bird incapable of flying, a leopard unable to run,
A trout afraid to swim, a kookaburra unable to laugh,
A human unequipped to feel compassion.
A wounded animal cursed with life.
A person being stalked by humanity; –
No matter how much they check over their shoulder
It reaches them and drawls them into a lair
Where pain and suffering is tested for a few laughs.
A hyena hidden behind your back
Ready to laugh when you are feeling low.
A step hidden by your feet
Ready to trip you up when you aren’t looking.
A tissue ready to wipe your tears.
A pocket ready to hide the handkerchief
A pillow ready to smother your cries.
A teddy bear ready to hear your cries.
The upper story
Banished into this desert
No love could survive here
In it’s brooding, pulsating emptiness
I grow weary of its endless journey.
Apparently, this torture isn’t enough, for I
Have to live through a sun without breeze.
Only eyes water this desert, but they too
Have dried, as this sun continues to blister
And my heart is singed once more.
Water. Love. These are what I yearn for
But like a poultice they linger; and they
Fade away as though they never dwelled at all.
Quicksand, like black bubbling tar
Exuding all love from the atmosphere
As I sink further still.
I plummet beyond the darkness.
Descending. I see, hear and feel nothing
As the dank dark surface swallows my pain.
This isn’t the first time I have taken the journey;
The last is far beyond the horizon
As though it belongs only in a dream.
Sand whips across my face, penetrating.
The wind furiously tries to blow me over.
But I exist, and shield my face from its blows.
A mirage! Oh, how I long for the oasis
To bring a breeze powerful enough to give Goosebumps,
To bring Emotions who trickle down my back like water.
The enemies may be different, but the traits,
They are the same. The same bitterness, evilness
And the same determination to search and destroy.
Drive
I have driven a man into the depths of anger –
The darkness closes in on him as he thinks
About the way I reacted tonight.
If his world crumbles down tonight,
A wall will be built around his heart.
And I have no strength to knock it down.
I fear what the future has in store –
From one adjective comes many verbs,
Many emotions, many divisions.
I have twisted his mind, like a wet sponge
And then left it to evaporate all goodness
That he once thought surrounded me.
The blue tide went out fast today,
And the moon can’t drive him back towards me.
For cement has been placed where sand once was.
My face is like a puddle, not sure what to reflect,
And all I know is water. A puddle, wishing
It was made by the ice around his heart.
My hands are like an earthquake – Shaking with every
Violent movement of my memory.
Hoping that when it stops there will be little damage.
My mind is like a blunt knife. Ripping at the confusion,
Desperately trying to cut through it; yet,
Making a bigger and more chaotic mess then there originally was.
My heart is like a galaxy, twisting and turning
From beauty to the unknown to darkness
Cold, isolated and afraid.
The Wrong Direction
Taking it one step too far;
So he never has a reason to doubt why we ended.
Taking it one step too far;
So he never has time to think about his feelings.
Taking it one step too far;
So I never have a moment to analyse my feelings.
Taking it one step too far;
So I never have to go a moment in pain.
Taking it one step too far.
We never had a chance to contemplate the
Actions we were about to take.
Taking it one step too far.
We never gave a thought to the consequences of the
Actions we were about to take.
Taking it one step too far.
We never gave sensibility a chance over lust.
Taking it one step too far.
Letting myself fall for him, before he
Had a chance to fall for me.
Taking it one step too far.
Ending my life with one, before I
Started my life with another.
Taking it one step too far...
Too far over the edge and into oblivion.
Taking it one step too far...
Too far past the no returns.
Taking it one step too far...
One-step too far, in the wrong direction.
No Regrets
The song, our song, came on the radio last night.
The one night he and I lay together again, the song appeared.
I listened to it, and couldn’t help but smile –
I had found myself again, and the song had found us.
When we weren’t together he told me how he hated this song;
But I saw no cringing, or anger when we lay together and listened.
The song moved around me, over me, through me
Making me feel whole, as he had done not all that long ago.
I listened to more than our song that night. I listened
To him breathing, to him snoring, and to his heartbeat.
I listened to the sounds of the night, which brought out passion.
I listened to the calm, peaceful setting around which we laid.
I cringed when I heard the sound of morning.
I cringed at the sound of the alarm going off in my ear.
Well, that was until it played our song. I closed my eyes –
Not hearing the cue to wake, but a cue to stay in bed.
I had no intention of regretting that night.
No intention of regretting the final four hours double I had with him.
And even now I regret nothing: because that song; our song;
Was a sign that that was where I was meant to be that night.
READER'S REVIEWS (4) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"You have many introductions to many would be poetic expressions. Please try not to kill the meaning of poetry by turning your poems into a patchwork quilt. Better luck next time...PS-don't kill yourself. Maybe you don't love each and every one of those guys-sounds like they're hot flings to me;-)" -- Charlie, Luxembourg, Germany, Swedan.
"That was powerful work Elizabeth. Your emotions were transferred which I think is what poetry is about. Smile :D" -- Your Friend, Brisbane, QLD.
"a lot of that was rather depressing. You must have been in quite a bit of pain when you wrote these poems. These people that have hurt you must have either been very special or you very fickle to make you feel this way. Good luck with all your future work." -- Vicki, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia.
"Don't fear the shadows! There is nothing wrong with writing things that may seem to be depressing. See my work for instance." -- R. Bennett Okerstrom.
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