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with..without hope

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without hope
where would we be…
buried under heaps
of rotting despair

without hope
what would we think…
that all is lost
and nothing is gained

with hope
where would we be…
searching for sunshine
and reasons to hold on

with hope
what would we think…
that after every dark night
there’s always rays of light

© Jacqueline

may there always be light at your end 

strange and estranged…

I always thought that I was strange
till I became totally estranged
not knowing when things would change
or if one would become deranged

this is where I am truly me
yet I feared my space for many moons
caught in the mire of an arid desert that bogs us down
getting through each day of life like a clown

with many faces that smile and scares
with glinty tears, recurring fears and frozen scars
forgotten in the sirens of deaths mounting toll
and staying thankful to every lifesaving call

© Jacqueline


…life is never truly sunshine and butterflies

I became one of those who disappeared…

I became one of those who disappeared…
diving into the belly of disjointed thoughts
malaise, discontent and limbo

I became one of those who disappeared
my voice broken and rusty
like an old unused tap on an abandoned site

I became one of those who disappeared
saving all my energy for survival
battling existential crisis

I became one of those who disappeared…
from out of the deep a voice called
head raised, I stare into the sun

it’s not yet over…

© Jacqueline 2019

Image credit – Pixabay

The Silent Ones’…

she turned
unwillingly against her will,
by the stroke of faith
and lottery played
by virtue of birth

she became
one of those diligent
bowed, sad women
who live on a long course
of docile, thankless servitude

she lived 
in fear of showing,
saying or doing the wrong thing
her desires swallowed
dreams doused and denied

she smiled
pretending to have
no misgivings about life
but when you looked closely
silent desperation stood stark and pathetic

© 2019 Jacqueline

 

I know many women like this. Maybe you know one too. They are all around you. Maybe you used to be one of them.

Sage and Vine – Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Challenge

 

fruits of the vine

mature with age,

and so does sage.

wisdom, she lost,

buried in the deep cups

of the grapevine.

© Jacqueline 2019

 

Thank you Ronovan, I enjoyed this prompt.

Sage &  Vine

 

The numbers…

These are
the number of kisses that we’ve had
the little dinners we have held
the evening walks on Tuesday’s end
the glorious sunsets around the bend

These are
the number of laughter we have shared
the times our silence has been paired
the million tiny tales we’ve told
the times you held me when I cried

These are
the moments we lived as we foretold
the times that slipped and went untold
the many nights our eyes went unslept
the promises made and yet unkept

These are…

busting at the seams…

Image result for images of emotional eating

I don’t do drugs,
she told herself in consolation,

yet she stuffed her face
and got sedated
on pies and cream cakes,

her righteous self
busting at the seams

This is me of late. Guilty! I am an emotional eater and when I’m unduly stressed like I’ve been for many weeks now, I go into eating overdrive.