A collection of prose and poetry by Theresa Curnow.

2008 ©

Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted. ~Percy Shelley, A
Defence of Poetry, 1821

God is the perfect poet. ~Robert Browning

Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood. ~T.S. Eliot, Dante, 1920

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the
expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who
have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.
~T.S. Eliot, Tradition and the Individual Talent, 1919
Index:

1. Chasing Leaves.
2. Dead Heart.
3. Death and I.
4. Now You’re Gone.
5. Going Home.
6. Broken Needles.
7. Behind Closed Doors.
8. Black Widow.
9. Illicit.
10. Strangers.
11. In the Night.
12. Betrayal and Retribution.
13. Devil in the Night.
14. The Clock.
15 A Thousand Tears.
16. Bending With the Wind.
17. Hidden.
18. The Silence of the Seasons.
19. Nature’s Frost.
20. Eternal Stars.
21. Days of Yore.
22. The Witch’s Song.
23. The Boy on the Moon.
24. Searching For You.
25. Snowflake On Your Lips.

Chasing Leaves.
As the Winter takes the sun
and disrobes all the trees,
I see you shimmer in purple dusk
amidst the falling leaves.

When drifting night takes the day

and paints the sunset hues,
your laughter brings a husky warmth
and takes away my blues.

The rippling lake before us lies

a fragrant breeze adrift,
you cloak me in your sweetest words
your touch like gentle mist.

The velvet sky like ebony falls

giving birth unto the lights,
I shed my clothes and slip unseen
into the coldest night.

The lake envelops skin of pale

and gives rise to my breath,
I float awhile with you beside
feels like we've died a death.

We swim across into the trees

that beckon in the breeze,
silently with glistening skin
we chase the falling leaves.

Your laughter lifts me up so high

onto a heavenly plane,
Nature's lovers we've become
we are the one and same.

Your kisses land like fairies wings

upon my cold pale skin,
I feel the love that once we had
burning strong within.

Yet even as your touch inflames

and warms me from the heart,
the truth is tugging at my soul
and has been from the start.

You run ahead a fleeting blur

your fingers skimming air,
my smile it falls from ruby lips
as emotions are laid bare.

As the moon hides its pallid face

and mist pulls down a cloak,
I remember all that has now gone
a time my heart had broke;
a time of parting, of such sorrow
when tears had washed my face;
a time when loss had left me blinded
from your sweet embrace,
but now the time has come for me
to join with you in rest,
I shed all things that hold me back
pick up my smile in death;
and as the song thrush calls and sings
and the frosted branches sway,
like two fireflies we dart up high
into the night we fly away....

Dead Heart.

Your dazzling smile is that of Winter frost,

whilst deepest shadows in those cold eyes shine,
'neath clouds of darkening grey I am lost,
a way towards your frozen heart to find.
A Summer's sun could not melt this dark mask,
nor my ardent love thaw this dull facade,
torturous months of stormy depths have passed,
yellowed bruises tell of deathly charade.
But comes a time of silence so sublime
as angry breath falls stagnant, oh so still;
eyes that darkness touched now death will find;
his frozen heart my love it had to kill.

And now I stand on heathered cliffs so steep;

'neath peeping moon and gazing stars, I leap.

Death and I.

Come be with me,

don't be afraid,
death whispered.
The night is filled with secrets
to be found;
Dantean beauty that daytime hides
'neath light and life
while the midnight sky holds
more than diamonds in its depth;
so come with me and let me
touch your despairing soul.

My fingers glide through

velvet mist and to his fingers
cold and dry;
his breath lightens on my neck
lips full of carnal promise,
as tongue tastes my longing.
We walk through glistening
hazy streets where flickering
lights cast dancing ghosts.
Here I feel no fear as death he grins,
eyes illuminated by milky moon.
The darkness radiates a warmth,
that cloaks me with restful ease;
while his cold firm grip feels
like a lover's soothing clasp.
Death, he pulls me closer still
as our destination we reach;
A dilapidated undone house
a dark gaping vault,
an open coffin of silk and dirt
empty of everything that is dead.
My breath comes heavy, laden
with wanton anticipation.

I turn to death then, his quiet gaze

and see eternity in those eyes;
his touch stirs deep,
as his lips meet mine
and flesh it shudders with
ardent longing;
his lips move down
and pain I feel,
a sharp and seductive
sting of death.
He drinks his fill
so sweet and hot
and with his kiss feeds me
eternal life,
in the darkness
I feel a strength
that only comes from
centuries rich blood.

I take his hand

and with ruby smiles
we search the night
death and I.....

Now You’re Gone.

My heart does ache, an empty vessel

cracked and worn with silent echoes.
A naked past where love still lays
yet tired and torn that’s where it'll stay;
where in my dreams my face is fair,
my skin still smooth 'neath lustrous hair.
You told me you'd forever be here,
But now you're gone my eyes weep fear.

This loneliness creeps over me

a silent bringer of misery.
I cannot speak of how I feel,
emotions scarred and yet to heal.
This bed once sound is now unsafe
a barren cold and joyless place.
My soul leapt high when you were here,
But now you're gone my eyes weep fear

As darkness takes the light till dawn.

restless memories deliver the morn.
My hands they stroke where you caressed
but nothing brings me to the edge.
All the love songs say the same;
my heart will never heal again.
The shadows retreat, birdsong I hear,
But now you're gone my eyes weep fear.

Time will heal so some fool said,

yet my heart will hurt until I'm dead.
My infidelity has cost me dear,
Because now you're gone my eyes weep fear.

Going Home.

The house stands broken;

dark windows,
empty eyes,
door a silent mouth
of chipped paint.
She turns the handle,
steps into dancing dust motes
amidst musty air
and a surge of memories.
The living room holds
dusty shelves
of scattered tomes,
forgotten words,
characters long dead.

The woman opens yellow pages;

her tears drop and stir life
and the words fly,
forming voice and soul.
She moves upstairs
fingers trailing,
crumbling walls,
to a place where
dreams and hopes
echo laughter and smiles.
Cobweb curtains cloak
all that remains
as inert spiders crouch
and watch.

She sits
on tilting bed,
the musty sheets
wrinkled
like her skin.
She stretches out
a gnarled hand
and smoothes the place
where love once lay;
echoes of the past
she hears,
reverberating
down through time.
With a smile she stands
and pirouettes,
grey hair like an
aging fan;
the window beckons
and the night it calls
along with a familiar voice.
She walks with vigour
of youth, not age,
her smile like a butterfly
on her lips and then
through glass she glides
into the night,
a hand outstretched
to her love,
to the past,
to home.

Broken Needles.

Like boiling waters, emotions swirl

anger tastes of bitter pills
I see your lips, they move, you lie
my eyes are dry, I will not cry.
The truth I must now boldly face
and walk away with stumbled grace
The drugs you take have bruised your mind
and any peace you seek to find.
Syringes hold the joy you hate
I have to leave you to your fate
so out the door I walk on through
and leave the love I thought I knew....

Behind Closed Doors.

A slap, a sigh, a moan, a cry

an anger that defiles, belies
a strangers face, no smile, no grace
behind closed doors, a dangerous place
secrets beneath dark hooded eyes
pale stiff limbs and muted cries
hate a shape that's taking form
when love has been so ripped and torn
a day will come when tides will turn
and then that anger with hate will burn

Black Widow.

Darkness tells of
deepest sighs
of fear and pain
of silent cries
Shadows move amid
the night
evil hides
just out of sight
Creeping coldness
Scores his skin
Breath hangs frozen
Death moves in
Darkly cloaked
veiled eyes
Grinning lips
Emit goodbye
Illicit.

Your touch inflames me

a flicker of yearning
ablaze within,
a sensuous sigh
takes my breath
as lips savour flesh
and eyes tell of adoration
Illicit connections
guilt tainted
with delicious sin
Sighs, cries, lies
but what price
pleasure
a moment
in time
suspended
in this haze
of slick heat
before reality
bites
and emotions
unveil
the truth

Strangers.

Noisy, sticky and dirty

here among the smoke haze
sitting with you
People laugh and dance
around our private space
the sounds of partying
like the beat of my heart
In your eyes I see
a heat, a certain knowledge
of tumbling limbs
and wet urgent cries

Your fingers entwine

with sensuousness, pick a
path along goose bumped flesh
slip a strap down
my glistening skin
So, away from the others
we pause for nothing
shedding inhibitions
along with clothes
no words slip into silence
as blood rushes like a river
and kisses burn like embers
while gasps lick at skin
No meeting of minds
only bodies in rhythm
as the music pounds
in perfect harmony
ebbing and flowing like a tide
coming, going, coming
then a sigh and a languid
touch, a soft goodbye
to the soundtrack of the music
and back into the haze again
like strangers....

In the Night.

The day's light trickles

into slivers
and I shiver
at the sudden chill
as night drops
dark and comforting.
My lungs fill with
the scent of fading heat
of honeysuckle
of jasmine...
...of blood
as I sense my prey.
I smile as the night
cloaks me like a friend

Betrayal and Retribution.

Love and hate

a touch away,
I could reach and brush
warm skin, slick sweat
but I don't.
My lips catch
in teeth
as frustration stirs
and swells;
fists clench
and I want to
pummel
and retch
as the truth
shatters.
I can't forget
that you
smiled
as you lied,
that your words
were loving
as my heart
fractured.
I want to
kill you,
kiss you,
smash you
love you
I hear you breath
and want it to
stop
retribution for
my pain.
Was she pretty?
Did she taste like me
or of damnation?
Was she worth
your
death?

I close my eyes,
listen to your breath,
poisonous gasps
from traitorous lips.
Your hand jerks,
fingers entangle,
and I sigh at
your fading warmth;
hands that caressed
with love
then betrayal.
As the sun rises
and the shadows
retreat,
my stinging tears dry.
The dead silence is
comforting
I move from
your side
and I leave your life
forever.....
Devil in the Night.

In the heat of the night,

distant thunder rolls
over hills and trees
that move with an uneasy wind.
Sleep is far away
and I rise to the night;
skin clammy,
eyes sultry,
waiting.
Thin curtains move
with a gasp from
the wind
and lightening cleaves
the darkening sky.
I stare to the hills,
breeze cooling my
fevered skin,
fluttering my hair
and on the hill
I see you.
Devil man,
silhouetted
in the flash of the storm.
My pulse quickens,
sweat beading
and I enter the night,
the rain a cooling balm
on butter skin.

You come to me then

with strong hands,
dark eyes,
little words,
and your kisses ignite
my dead soul,
as the wind whips and moans.

Devil of the night,

my man of darkness,
here to take me away
from this life.
Here to take me home.
As the rain falls,
we walk through the storm
into the darkening night.
The Clock.

The Clock ticks,

unnoticed in the silence
of white washed walls, dirty floor.
Its face has seen many faces,
eyes open, eyes shut;
people come, people go;
emotions thrown on turbid air,
their tears a stinging path
on skin so pale and frayed.
The clock watches, hands move
unremitting.
Time doesn't stop,
tick tock,
for anyone.
Life continues unabated,
and bodies come, bodies go,
and the clock seems loud
in the wretched silence,
amidst the pallid face of death.
This is home, for a while,
the white washed room;
full of people, silent,
with the clock,
tick tock.....
A Thousand Tears.

On this night
there is a thousand tears,
when children drift and ebb
on an acrid Summer's eve;
when laughter is hotly peppered
with gunshots and hate,
against a backdrop
of terraced houses
in leafy ordinary lanes.

On streets built with

apathy and empty beer cans,
broken needles and empty eyes;
somewhere hidden behind dirty nets
one parent drinks, another cries,
and upstairs Big Brother blasts
as a child sits, empty,
father's razor in soiled hands,
scratch
scratch.

On a park bench,
defaced with the names of the lost,
misspelt and childish,
written with alcohol veiled eyes,
within a garland of cigarette butts;
love is tossed around
and kisses dirt cheap.
Alone and abject a girl sits,
scraped back hair and swollen lips;
too many kisses, too much wine.
Her tears sting
but she wants, needs more.
Abasement.

On this night,
of a thousand tears,
when politicians make vapid promises
and footballers make indecent money,
while pampered stars make rehab groovy,
who will speak out for desolation
that calls inner city an uneasy home?
Who will speak up for the hopeless;
the guns and X Factor generation;
the lost and fading children of today
who drink and play and kiss
and cry and live in the echo
of the gunshot.
Bang
Bang.

Bending With the Wind.

Come over here,

whisper to me
the right words
sweet and endearing,
my sustenance

Your touch as velvet

where solace hides
like a cradle full of calm
your smile, glistening
as a balm

Bewitching your eyes

dark and guileless
seemingly...
but the truth lies
tainted and shifting
under your soul
where worms find a home

Crying I am done with

my heart is numb
you don't realise
I know, my love
what evil you have done
lives taken, bathed in blood
from that your
pleasure gained
the night cloaked you
and hid your crimes
until discovery wrought
my pain

In boxes, mementos
of your crimes
chilling, sickening
echoes of lives

So, come here

hold me one last time
I'll pretend a millisecond
that all is right
as your treacherous lips
touch mine,
before I smile and
slip cold metal into
your ruinous heart
and feel now the
warmth of your blood

Your whispers grow silent

as your touch slips
to the floor

Outside, the wind blows

and my heart lets go.
I step outside,
heels clicking,
face salty wet
and I bend with the wind
before the night beckons me
like a new lover.....

Hidden.

The darkness falls fast and clammy

amid the grey of the gathering clouds
as the sun hides its hard heat
behind the dancing horizon.
The shadows take on shimmering life
in the midst of the entwined trees
as their branches move like
skeletal fingers, the leaves hissing
in the stiffening breeze.
I walk fast and edgy,
hands damply clenching,
hair long in my face,
skin sticky from fear
because I know,
I know
what lies in the shadows
watching me, wanting me,
craving me, my life's sweetness.
Sleeping all day, ready for the night
taste of copper hot on its breath
skin cold and clammy,
touch of the dead.
My breath, it comes quick as
the leaves whisper and move
and I smell death in the dank air,
dry and fetid like the earth
under my fleeing feet.
I turn eyes wide, glistening
and see it in the hissing trees.
Hidden.

Silence of the Seasons.

Four haikus inspired by four swiftly and silently moving seasons.

Blades of grass shiver

as drops of inspiriting rain
paint them neath Spring clouds.

Grains of sand beneath

an azure sky so halcyon
lazy white cloud drifts.

Waning moon conceals

a field of dancing corn
talking in the wind.

Crystal flakes alight

on fir needles green and dense
neath yellow tipped clouds.

Nature’s Frost.

In the dense emerald forest, magic does sleep,

slumbering like a giant in the fir tipped deep;
dormant by day and alive in the night,
not many have seen this wondrous sight.
As the dusk falls softly like a delicate veil,
tiny creatures stir, their wings of silver pale;
with long golden hair and Summer blue eyes,
they fly with grace through the trees and sky.
Jewels and crystals they wear for clothes,
and music they make as the Autumn wind blows;
flitting through branches amidst swaying trees,
they dance in the moonlight with crisp falling leaves.
They sprinkle soft fairy dust over the ground;
the whole forest watches with barely a sound,
and when morning comes and the darkness is lost;
the sharp bracing light reveals Nature's frost.

Eternal Stars.

The stars they look down

like cold diamond eyes,
they've seen every truth
all the laughter, the cries;
the fragility of hope
that hovers with clouds;
the throbbing of love
that hangs like a shroud.

They watch with a stillness

as man beats his chest
and blink with dismay
at the pointless bloodshed.
When towers fall down
in a desolate heap,
the stars bow and shiver
at hates heinous feats.

When old and ill pass,

when sick children die,
the stars take their souls
and teach them to fly.
The lights guide the way
past all that has been
and show them a place
that’s forever unseen.

When good people pray

for a more peaceful earth
the stars come together
to hope, they give birth
and when man asks his God
for relief from all pain
the stars bow in reverence
to God's holy name.

But as is mankind’s will

wars will blacken the sun
the earth will revolt
and all will be undone
but hope binds all people
and keeps hearts alive
even as torn souls
learn with love how to fly.

So when mankind is gone

when the earth is no more
the stars will shed tears
on the desolate shores,
and when the only sound left
is the echoes of why,
the stars will still be there
keeping watch in the sky.
Days of Yore.

One Christmas Eve

in the midst of the war
as the Luftwaffe flew over
England's fair shores,
the sound of grand music
drifted through snow
and glittery laughter
met the wind's blow

A ballroom of old,
its windows made black
where a young man stood firm
shoulders held back.
Cross tinsel clad room
he spied beauty bright
eyes of an angel,
face sweetness and light
He wanted to speak
to ask for a dance
so mustered his courage
then took the chance
and with hat in hand
he limped cross the room,
she looked like a rose
in perfect full bloom

With trembling soft voice

he whispered her name
and hoped she wouldn't see
that he was now lame.
She gazed with emotion
at his nervous face
then pulled him in close
for the sweetest embrace

Injured while battling

in the snowy Ardennes,
dark forests of pine
that claimed many men.
He'd made it back home
but crippled for life
He feared of never
making her his wife

But love didn't forget

and hope prevailed strong
that he'd make it back home
where he belonged.
She took his cold hand
and together they swayed
as the Christmas lights winked
and the band loudly played

Then the dulcet smooth tones

of Bing Crosby sang
'I'll be home for Xmas'
as the church bells rang.
With tears in his eyes
and relief on tired face
he held his angel tight
as their love filled the place.

The Witch’s Song.

Prologue.

When icy winds blow

cross vast swollen seas,
can you hear the sad song
as melodic tones tease?
They pull at the soul
and wrench at the heart
a voice of pure satin
sublime like a harp.

A tempter, a vixen,
a golden haired witch,
singing for lost souls
your heart she'll bewitch.
Through mountains of old
and to magical lands,
she'll haunt you, pursue you
cross halcyon sands .

Beginning.
From times long ago,
when goblins were kings
and fairies were slaves
with broken, clipped wings,
she lived in a place
where magic was strong,
where witches breathed fire
and wizards belonged.

A witch such was she,

with the blackest of hearts
with looks that killed breath
a queen of dark arts.
She stole babies hair
and gathered pure souls,
mixed them with crystals
the blood of a foal.

A spell to create,
that was so evil and dark;
a plan when laid bare
revealed coldness so stark.
Her target for magic
a maiden of beauty,
whose betrothal to the Prince
was of love and of duty.

The witch felt a love

that was alien inside.
She wanted the prince
no time she would bide,
but the princess's beauty
made her heart curl and die,
more fairer than she
her rage made her cry.

His love she would have

come heaven or hell,
so with hate on her face
she set off with the spell.
The prince and his love
they slept unawares,
peaceful bliss on both faces
without any cares.

The witch crept up soft

and with smile like spun lace
cast the spell on the couple
and beauty was defaced,
with skin like dry leaves
and disfigured for life,
the prince stared in horror
at his now ugly wife.

His grief and his sorrow

turned to bitter despair
and with desperate rage
he tore at his hair.
The princess she wept
at her ruinous face
and with desolate screams
she ran from the place.

The witch laughed with joy

and danced 'neath the moon
but her ravenous glee
had come far too soon,
for the Prince grabbed his sword
and with a loud cry
buried the blade
far deep inside.

He crumpled to ground
at the witch's bare feet
and with horror she watched
as in death he did sleep.
Screaming with grief
she ran though the night
crying and screeching
till the sun brought the light.

The End

Then as the birds sang

and the wind blew a song
the witch screamed a curse,
'Let my words be lifelong!
For I will find my prince
even though he's in sleep
every man that I call
his soul I will keep'

Until I do find him,

my truest of loves
I will leech from their souls
even those from above.
I will sing my pure song
and stir with my touch
my looks will excite
and please very much'

Epilogue.

Her charms will seduce

with heat, fire and light
but what lies beneath
with the coming of night?
Your soul she will purge
as sleep drags you away;
your dreams will be lurid
your hair will turn grey.

When morning then comes

you'll pray for death's kiss,
as the truth shows its face
and you view the abyss;
for there's no escaping
from the witch's embrace,
if she thinks you're her prince
your heart she will taste.......
The Boy on the Moon.

Inspired originally by the beginning of a film, this poem is a metaphor for all the abused
children who suffer at the hands of those who should care for them most. 'The boy on the
moon' is all of those children who use fantasy as a way to escape fear or loneliness. This
is in tribute for all of them......

The boy on the moon sheds silver tears

down pallid cheeks held tight with fears.
He wants to dance amidst moon beams,
but his limbs feel taut from arcane dreams.

For so many years he has sat up high

living his life in the star slung sky;
hiding in craters from the beast that smiles,
gazing to earth through the space and miles.

His wishes he makes on countless stars

from Venus to Saturn to fiery red Mars.
He wants to feel loved and warm and safe
but knows that true love is dead in this place.

In the inky night when the coldness is stark,

the boy reaches up to touch the dark,
he senses infinity in the blackest veil,
glimpses forever in a star's frosty trail.
He wants to fly where spaceships roam
across the galaxies to a far off home,
where spirits sing in harmonious peace
and the beasts sour touch will dare not reach.

But emotions bind him to milky moon

above cloudy earth and the haunting loon.
He daren't move lest the beast might see
but he longs in his soul to be ever free.

He wants to run where the corn sways slow

and dip his feet in a river's fast flow;
to feel the heat of the long Summer sun;
to play in damp grass and belong as one.

He needs to feel his mother's soft kiss,

to experience her love, emotions of bliss
but she went away and never came back
and since she's been gone, life has been black.

As black as the beast that stands so tall,

as dark as the night that steadily falls
but light always rides with hope alongside
and so with this spark to the sky he does hide.

He imagined the moon as a haven to stay;

a milky white orb, a place he could play;
where the stars sweep a path of silvery dust,
and the breeze smells of candy in every gust.

But now comes a time for all little boys;

a time to reach out for love and for joy .
He hears a sweet voice that tells him to leave
to fly away home, to trust and believe.

So with all his strength he faces the beast,

even as all of his fears they increase.
He turns and looks up with a face that’s so sad
and gazes with loathing at the beast he calls dad.

He takes a deep breath and in a clear voice

says, 'No more of this. I do have a choice'
The boy on the moon is no longer alone,
as he spreads out his arms and flies away home..
Searching for You.

Stones like crooked teeth

trip my progress as I walk
along between where bodies lay,
among the faded flowers that
wilt in the Summer heat and
dip their heads
against the dry grass
as if in remembrance of the dead.
I feel pain and a longing
for something that I
cannot grasp.
I feel only the warming
stones under my trembling
fingers as they trail a
path guided by my teardrops.
I fear I have lost him, so
many lie here, their eyes
shut in stillness beneath.
And then I am here, his name
carved in black, chipped
and worn.
Gone but not forgotten, no
never forgotten for my
heart contains all of you.
And in the harsh heat of
the bleaching sun, I lay
down beside him and shut
my eyes in perfect
stillness.
Together again

Snowflake on Your Lips.

When the darkness

washes the light from the day,
I'll be there, your star and comfort.
In coldness and black velvet,
I will reach through dimensions
to touch your heart.
Your dreams will
write a smile on your lips
as I waltz through,
trailing memories and light.
Come the dawn,
when your tears rise
and fall with the sun,
I will stroke them away
with a touch like a breeze.
From the corner
of your eye,
you will see me shimmer;
fleeting glimpses
of a treasured beauty,
and for a while you
will wonder and smile.
When you walk on sand
and slip on snow
or splash in rain,
I will follow,
my feet in your steps,
guiding with hope
and when the trees
shed the leaves,
I will be the leaf on
your shoulder.
When Winter winds blow
I will be the snowflake
on your lips.
In the darkness
of a long night,
search the sky and I
will be there.
I am your love,
gone but not lost.
for I am infinity....