Month: August 2014

Page Rage

The page screams at me,

blinding light that deafens the soul

my weakness turning to obstinacy


I scramble through the thoughts

Rehash the tears

Extrapolating the emotions 

Trapped in pockets of hearts


Pure glowing light, covered by words

Punched by grammar

Spritzed with sentimentality


Blank space you cannot win!

You will be ambushed by my nouns

Lashed by my tongue

Pulverized by poetry


Hear this empty page – I do not fear you


Orange on pink..

Just something sweet to make you smile 🙂

Life as Art... and a bit of nonsense...



I like to dip my toes in pink…

And dance around my dreams…

leaving footprints scattered…

like orange and yellow leaves…




Colors make me happy…



My August Project … “A Flower a Day – Garden Portraits 2014″…

Day twenty-five…


Photography and words by Cicely Robin Laing © 2014

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“The water of life”

That’s what she would say

As the fat splodges dashed the window pane

Sliding downwards, softly popping on the sill.


Sometimes it would rain for a whole afternoon

And we would huddle together

Like squirrels, in a drey

Listening to the song of rainfall

Curled up in the lap of safety

Of one another


Those afternoons were our own, back then

No school bell, no work obligations,

No snooze alarm, no phones.

Just rain.


Just you, me and the rain’s song




Conventional happiness


We do not need the ceremony of it all


The bangs and the whistles,

the champagne on ice

A cascade of glitter

The pastors advice

We do not require our family and friends

To shop for a toaster, or smile for a lens

No taffeta

No limo

No first dance

No ring

No flower girl

No bouquet

No hearts on a string


No need for the stories,the jokes and the cake

The paper that binds you, the fear of mistake


We don’t mean to challenge

Or belie your needs

We love our own pact

He writes, and I read


I have read this poem 3 times now and am still fascinated by it 🙂


blank page
why have I
bothered to find your crisp cleanness
on the occasion of a ceremony starting
when the last rays of light float on
put on that spot, vocal sounds are pathetic
not sad but with due resolve
a beginning of a word never completed
a hint that has no secret behind it
above the cup
a pair of eyes lurks
below themes we lit on frozen electricity
that cold inspires yelling and dancing
like no song before or since
or slower travel when an emergency looms
focused on their distant future before
the hour is even half gone
birthdays are letting me see
they aren’t clapping and singing
they are a candle being
same as any other
but it has its own existence

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24 hours for life

If I were to have just one more day on earth with you

I would hold you to my bosom

 Shower you in sentiment and kiss your tiny little feet

For twenty four hours I would hold you tight,

Smothering myself with the scent of you

Allowing my perspiration to merge with your tears

Our skin softened and ready, to be sewn

into a blanket

To veil the moment of our passing.


One thousand, four hundred and forty minutes,

It shall never be enough.

A mere drop

in the ocean of grief.

A paltry offering to Amphitrite.

Though a lifetime to me.


If I were to have just one more day

It would be with you.