Monday, August 27, 2012

Laughing again, living again, loving again….

The room is empty.
The world seems quiet,
Except for the cricket’s chirr.
I sit in the vacant terrace
Where you used to sit.
I sip from a glass,
Red wine that tastes
Bitter now,
With memories trailing
behind each drop.

I look back at the room;
It seems so much bigger;
It’s too big for me –
This world is too big.
But, I'm starting to feel
as if I'm growing with the world
Since you left.
I want to feel small again;
I need to feel small again,
To be held in your arms,
Like a child.

Though you are miles away,
I feel your breath around my neck;
Let go and I'll let go of you. 
It's time we left it all behind.
I am ready 
To give myself a chance,
To start laughing again, 
Living again, loving again…. 

2012 Helena Malheur

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

The beach

The sounds of the world
undulate like the waves of the ocean.
White birds circle above my head.
I smell the sea;
I feel it between my toes.
The sand's stuck to my feet.
A breeze carries the music
of children's laughter.
Boys, shirtless, barefoot,
preen for girls with bare bellies,
tattoos and tan lines...

Ah, to be young again!

©  2012 Helena Malheur


I live in a world of delusions and artistry,
where every work is an interpretation
of my imagination.
And my imagination has no bounds;
It neither has a beginning nor an end.

He is the vision, a reality based diversion --
nameless, faceless, voiceless --
and exists only to feed the scenarios
invented to accommodate this work,
this piece of dynamic art based on delusion
and imagination. And yet, I feel nothing.

There is a world which knows nothing
of the freedom imagination affords;
I refuse to live there. Still,
I want the fortitude to live among the brave
who dare to love freely and exclusively so.

As an answer to my wish,
I discovered that I am a part of that world.
After all, I feel something real, something tangible --
the tightening chest, the quickening breath --.
it isn't a delusion; it is real as he has become real.

He even have a name, a face, a voice;
and I hear every word he speaks
as if these were words I heard for the first time.
But if he asked, I will categorically deny I love him,
because I fear my heart will be broken
before our affair has begun.

©  2012 Helena Malheur