Waylaid by sentimental stirrings,
unintentional memories
found folded in my pocket.
The faint scent of those yesterdays
clinging to the paper …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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©2020 Christine Kelly
Photograph by the author
Notes to nobody
but this girl I used to be.
Confessing gritty truths
to a parchment soul
stained with salty abandon …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You
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:
©2020 Christine Kelly
Photograph by the author
The mind becomes a ticking
time bomb, silence
settling like a fog.
Questions have no answers
and the weight of every one of them
smothers
what you do have.
You cannot breathe, for the journey
your mind takes you on
a whirlwind of emotions
you run down rabbit holes
better suited to a tale of Alice
and the person you wish to be
is masked
by this temporary madness …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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:
©2020 Christine Kelly
All Rights Reserved.
Photograph by the author
We the People
was our birth,
our beginning. But, we are no longer
We the People. How long has it been
since we could claim to be We
instead of Them or Us?
We the People
is an idea we fetishize,
placing it on a pedestal
when it is meant to be read
cover to cover,
intended to be worn
until it slides over us
like a second skin,
covering us in a common identity …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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© 2020 Christine Kelly
All Rights Reserved
Photograph by author
It’s raining, a drink of water after parched days. The ground was littered with odd drops, scattered randomly, before the thunder came and the heavens opened.
The rain always stops me in my tracks. I wait. I watch. I wonder. And my heart aches with some unfathomable feeling that soaks me to my core with a haunting want …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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:
© 2020 Christine Kelly
All Rights Reserved
Photo by Nadia Valko on Unsplash
The ivories he tickles
are behind her eyes
accidentals touched
strings struck …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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:
© 2020 Christine Kelly
All Rights Reserved.
Photograph: my own
It defies explanation or definition
yet persists —
days when it is there, quietly
sitting in the corner
waiting to speak,
other times
words filling me
with a rush –
images vivid in tone and texture.
What is it that calls my pen to action
my being to yearning …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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:
© 2020 Christine Kelly
All Rights Reserved.
Photograph by author
Beginnings,
new dawn breaks
with a whisper. Layers
peeled back like blankets
or the first glimpse of skin
in summer;
winter, a recent memory.
Left hand foraging for comfort …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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:
© 2020 Christine Kelly
All Rights Reserved
Photograph by author
Sometimes
writing is like slipping
off your clothes
in the waning light of day.
Effortless
exhalation on a sigh.
Most often it is retching
in solitude, a heaving up
of your insides.
Results that are never pretty,
generally painful
but necessary …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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:
©2020 Christine Kelly
All Rights Reserved.
Photograph by the author
She is quiet
even when speaking.
With much going on beneath the surface
it’s the things she doesn’t say
you need to take heed of,
for the secrets to her are locked up
within those silences …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
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:
©2019 Christine Kelly All Rights Reserved
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Unsplash
Siren Whispers 