Poems From the Vault #2

Hi Everyone,

As promised, I have looked for (and found) poems that I wrote ages ago. Last week was poems from my Creative Writing module, this week one poem that I wrote at the library course I did and one reworking of an old poem that was submitted for my degree.

Eyeliner

The hallway frames the front door of my home.

Guarding me from well-wishers, I need to be alone.

Seasons, styles or Saturdays, there is always eyeliner,

bold black wings from cut price to designer.

I woke the other day, robbed of my right hand

sudden stolen senses, are hard to understand.

War paint frames my face, I’m ready for the world.

Without eyeliner,  I look a different girl.

Blurred vision, a thousand texts becoming unbearable.

In her best posh voice, she tells me I ‘look terrible’

Healing, time and patience all falls into place

I’m faking being well, with eyeliner on my face.

Samantha Henthorn © 2015

photo of venus eyeliner pencil set
Photo by ud835udc15ud835udc1eud835udc27ud835udc2eud835udc2c ud835udc07ud835udc03 ud835udc0cud835udc1aud835udc24ud835udc1e- ud835udc2eud835udc29 & ud835udc0fud835udc1eud835udc2bud835udc1fud835udc2eud835udc26ud835udc1e on Pexels.com

I’m sorry I didn’t come to your funeral.

The long-distance made it impossible.

Your sister’s phone call echoed strangely,

reminding me of you – I almost knew.

I’m sorry I didn’t go to your funeral. 

Happy days and happy memories,

time dissolved the Christmas card list.

Robins, feathers, bereavement tokens,

I wonder if you know the reason;

how sorry I am I didn’t go to your funeral.  

I don’t know why the above has come out in small writing- I copy/pasted it from a word document.

Happy Wednesday everyone! Samantha xx

I wrote these books! https://t.co/aqJFqYlGWl?a

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Eyeliner

Alicia eye

 

Eyeliner

The hallway frames the front door of my home.

Guarding me from well wishers, I need to be alone.

Seasons, styles or Saturdays, there is always eyeliner,

bold black wings from cut price to designer.

I woke the other day, robbed of my right hand.

Sudden stolen senses are hard to understand.

War paint frames my face, I’m ready for the world.

Without eyeliner, I look a different girl.

Blurred vision, a thousand texts becoming unbearable.

In her telephone voice, she tells me I ‘look terrible’

Healing time and patience all fall into place,

I’m faking being well with eyeliner on my face.

Samantha Henthorn copyright 2015.

Photo courtesy and owned by my beautiful daughter.

I love eyeliner, if my hands were working, I would be able to put it on like the photo above. I wrote this poem a couple of years ago, and it was accepted by the editor of MSmatters magazine, as yet they have not put it in print (even though they promised me it would be in the spring edition). Instead of spending time e-mailing them to chase it up, I’ve decided to blog it. The poem did appear in the Bury adult education/libraries anthology and exhibition last year, of which I was most proud.

Happy Wednesday, Samantha