The Hand of a Friend

invisible

with no form

sinking deeper

into the haze

the mist

the depths

fear drawing deeper

senses numbed

no one around

nothing

no one

alone

not just one fear

but many

compounding

make life

bleaker

darker

with even less form

a bump

a landing

finally at rock bottom

a resting place

to curl up and be

forgotten

it feels strangely warm

oddly comforting

to be at the bottom

to be without any way forward

a light breath blows through the mists

making them seem thinner

blueness is there

it’s hues are gentle and deep

blueness reigns

a fresh breeze tousles

what was gray and formless

now has blues and greens

and a yellow brings vibrancy to life

a hand

a hand of a friend

holds the shapelessness of life

that was once vibrant, hued and deep

the hand of a friend

with it’s own blues, greens and yellows

gives form to a shapeless life

remembered

the yellow hurts

it is too bright

too sharp

too painful

but the blues and greens give nurture and care

a gentle dance of colours begin

on the hand of a friend

who dared be a friend

just blues and greens for now

but in time

yellow

orange

red

will be back again too

because of a friend

who dared be a friend

and held out a hand

and blew breath into a life This poem was inspired by a drawing by a friend :) ... it's a wonderful example of how art inspires art in others, so thank you Kayla for your drawing.

(c) Copyright Luke Visser 2016 (written March 2016)

Ghosted Away

gone

totally gone

not a word

just gone

as blackness of the night

takes over

the pain is appalling

pieces of me

torn

from my body heart mind and soul

there’s an emptiness

an aching

i scream

sob

thrown to the winds

they float away

are blown so far

out of reach

and yet i must

for they

are the parts of me

that are you

that are us

i must have them back

or

watch them go

the moments i stop

and watch them float away

on the breeze

the wind

the gale

i see them for what they are

my memories of you

each

carried away

by a ghost

in despair

i chase them

first one

then another

oblivious to me

they flee

some easily caught

but my hands

won’t hold them

the ghosts

that carry you away from me

those ghosts

they are cowards

they flee

never facing me

always moving away

showing no respect

I see only

their backs

taking my memories

moments

and you

so far away from me

one ghost stops

and turns it’s face

sad

pained

tired

it looks at me

with tenderness

tinged perhaps with love

and then

it too is gone

ghosts

tearing you

away from me

but i refuse

you loved me once

and i loved you

it will not be

i sit

and slowly draw

the memories of you back

the pain is excruciating

it wracks my being

but i will have them back

and they will be

the echo of you in my life

friends

precious some

sit with me

and listen

how can an exquisite memory

a moment in time

of great beauty

be ghosted away

so easily

friends listen to me

as i recount my memories

of you

a ghost comes back to me

it is the one

that for a moment before

showed me the love

I knew so well

the sadness on it’s face still there

it’s look pleading and desperate

i will have it back

the memory is mine

slowly

tentatively

with great tenderness

it lays the memory on my heart

and the ghost is gone

i have you back

a part of us is back

and in the darkness

a tiny star is born

deep in the night sky

in time

my night sky will be full of our memories

exquisite

beautiful

painful

poignant

those memories of us

of you

and then one day

a dawn may come

when you and i

are us again

forging new memories

for another night sky

until then

i will draw my ghosts back

all our memories

i will place in the night sky

to remind me

of what life used to be

and can be again

(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2016 (written Jan 2016)

You're beautiful

i stare in the mirror

i watch

you look into your mirror

pick out the flaws

your eyes

move to places

reminding you

the scars

of how you have lived life

how it has lived through you

of how it has hurt you

the bumps

how it has bruised you

i know you're not talking about

and i see beauty

physical beauty

more than your body

i see beauty

deeply painful

resilient

everlasting

beauty

i see more than that

there is so much more

glimpses of

signs of

when I look in the mirror

someone who has lived

engaged with life

inquisitive

exploring

always searching

i look into my eyes

and then you’re gone

still there

but gone

drawn deep

I follow where you go

into my soul

your soul

i have no breath

the world gone away

it is only you

and me

i see the scars there

and i see

how the scars on your skin

match the streaks on your soul

the bumps on your body

to the shape of your soul

but

there are no flaws

the sadness

here

there is the beauty

i glimpsed

on the outside

there is sadness

that comes from deep caring

compassion

entwinement

the darkness

there is darkness

even total darkness

here

touch is needed here

sensuous tender touch

emptiness

then

nothing

for a moment

lost

empty

racing heart

panic

leads to a quiet

nothing

sometimes i see nice things

but beauty

drawn from nothing

how is beauty made from nothing

by being you

as you as you can be

and then

the scars

the bumps

and seeming flaws

show their resilient beauty

not so much of late

a soft gentle mist blows in

over much of your soul

hiding so much from view

that's ok too

i sit

in the silence

as the mist envelops me

drawing me in deeper

and your voice

quietly asks

and the answer is always

the same

(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2015 (written Oct 2015)