Michele Brenton's Poetry Blog.

Intelligence.

What has passed is wiped away,
a wish repeated often enough
to make reality of lies.
For what has passed remains
embedded in the now,
flavouring scents and subtleties
changing all that comes
into something else.
And maybe that's a good thing?
Because I don't know about you
but I wasn't born yesterday
and surely that's a good thing?

Michele Brenton 27th December 2011

5 a.m. and all's well.

The day has not begun yet.
Sitting in the darkness
listening to them breathing
as they sleep.
They are so peaceful
lines erased
cares forgotten
pain escaped.
The day has not begun yet.

14th Dec 2011 Michele Brenton

Alive

It
hurts
breath
pains
eyes
sting
mouth
dry
head
aches
heart
cries
silently,
Bring it on
I will take it
I always have.

Michele Brenton 13 dec 2011

Useless female.

I spoke up.
So now I must be squashed
deep into the ground
my nose smelling the appropriate stink
of dirt and dust and all the leavings
life has dropped and here I belong
dribbling tears as if they could wash it all away.

When will I learn to disappear quietly?
When will my spirit finally accept
it is not of benefit to me?
I need rewiring - my program is obsolete
I am unfit for purpose.

Take a scalpel to my brain,
carve out the useless,
the dreams,
the needs,
the hunger.
There is no happiness
while they persist.

I only need some basic skills
required to carry out my jobs
Please grant me peace to live my life:
remove the bit of me that sobs.

Michele Brenton 1st December 2011