A statue of Salvador Dali's 'Clocks' below the London Eye
Toni Stuart is a poetry writer, performer and developer, based in Cape Town, South Africa.
Thursday, 16 September 2010
finding his way home
I watch him move and shift in his skin, trying to find the way it fits, but he can not. Not yet. Not now. So he lashes out at the world, because to lash out at himself would mean his implosion. Do not let his anger scare you: he is simply shouting at the demons that sleep in his bed, crawl into his head. Just give him space to spew. Douse his impatience with patience, and help him laugh at his idiosyncrasies’. And his bitterness, just let it fall from his lips, for that is better than letting it stew in his heart, for a heart filled with bitterness will only grow brittle and wither away.
Just watch him as he moves, as he squirms to find his place, watch him as he questions and give him space to breathe. He is exorcising his demons, leave him be, leave him be.
Just love him, from as close as he will allow you to get, love him unconditionally. And show him he is loved, and leave him signs along the path, so he can find his way home...
©Toni Stuart, May 2008, London
Just watch him as he moves, as he squirms to find his place, watch him as he questions and give him space to breathe. He is exorcising his demons, leave him be, leave him be.
Just love him, from as close as he will allow you to get, love him unconditionally. And show him he is loved, and leave him signs along the path, so he can find his way home...
©Toni Stuart, May 2008, London
Monday, 6 September 2010
she paints...
she paints charcoal wishes with light
as something moves in the wind tonight
and the moon hangs low
as its white-yellow glow
casts a shapeless shadow
over ash-midnight sky
aching hearts wash out to sea in silence
as fear licks her cheek he’s not kissing
too much past in her heart
grow her limbs thin and hard
so her tongue cannot ask
if the dawn means goodbye
when yesterday’s sun shone through old wounds
she knew the time had begun for forgetting
so the fear unravelled
till all she had left
were her unkissed cheeks wet
with winter’s new tears
tears that carve a hole through her smile tonight
as memory mourns the pain she’s not missing
so she paints charcoal wishes with light
as something moves in the wind tonight
and the moon hangs low
as its white-yellow glow
casts a shapeless shadow
over ash-midnight sky
to hold her muffled cries ringing out
in a lonely lullaby
she knows all she can do is let go
© Toni Stuart –2010
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