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Monday 28 February 2022

Inked Fingers

 

Inked fingers bleed into the night… my soul

My pen speaks truth; manifests inked black-gold 

Spun poetry, it dances round the page

Whispering  ancients; they are my sage 

For what's the use of ammunition-ink;

If we don't use our words… make others think?


For God's sake, this world is haemorrhaging 

Atrocities stacked up; they are our sins

You may say, “Not me! I've done nothing wrong”

The “Nothing” in your retort IS what’s wrong! 


What did you do when Palestine cried out?

Or when homeless souls, in need, “help” did shout?

Sign petition… China’s internment camps?

Against paedophilia... make a stand? 

Help to bring to end modern slavery? 

Campaigned that all medical care be free?

Help to teach next generation’s minds?

Make world more accessible to the blind? 

Learn to speak sign language… another tongue?

Stand against human rights abolishment? 

Acknowledge privilege… or stay silent?

Speak out against political tyrants? 


Did you campaign against brutality? 

Stand up and take accountability? 

Respect and celebrate diversity? 

Embrace all souls you met with empathy?

Show compassion to others' mental health?

Challenge misinformation; fed screen stealth? 

Defend all those bullied in the schoolyard? 

Help traumatized people deal... with their scars? 


What is your stance on plight of refugees?

Do you accept all sexualities? 

Can you recite pronouns; gender’s spectrum? 

Are you actively against all racism? 

Do you campaign to stamp out all fascism? 

Support free speech, free choice and activism? 

Do you enable disabilities? 

Will you help, free oppressed from slavery? 

Have you raised money for a charity?

Spent quality time with the elderly?

Campaigned against animal cruelty? 

Shamed all capitalism’s oligarchy? 

Helped to make our planet forever green?

Cast light, on plights; communities in need? 

Stopped judging people on their appearance? 

Tried to stop ethnic; eugenic clearance? 


Would you speak up if witnessed sexism?

Stop discrimination through religion?

Now value all people more than your wealth?

Do your strive to understand addiction?

Help heal crime through rehabilitation?

Try make amends for cruel ancestors?

Help reclaim lands for the indigenous?

Stand up against domestic violence?

Ditch apathetic ways and tardiness?

Honour all cultural diversities?

Learn our failings' lessons from history?

Ask everyone is payed a living wage?

Make politicians serve, not act on stage?

Make sure everyone has food, clean water?

Protect the innocent from mass slaughter?

Make feelings clear on war zones..Ukraine's

plight?


I call to Poets... raise your pens to fight

It's time to use your words to make a change

Help speak for those who can't... let verses rage

Let's be the balm to wars that harm our world

Let Lennon's, Marley's words again unfurl

Through ink spoken... let's try to right our wrongs

ONE LOVE, all we need; let this be... our song!!!


© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry




Friday 18 February 2022

Crown of Thorns

A ring she dreamt; a crown of thorns she got
She loves so hard, yet still he spares her not
Her once full heart, he's tried his best to drain
Her mind hurts too; gaslighting fuels the pain
Romance she sought, not martyrdom for love
Punchbag she feels; cruel word-fists hit, ungloved
Trauma spits; injects… insidious doubt
From toxic seeds, her flashback roses sprout
Her fragile frame, reflects her gentle mind
She's desolate but all she has he finds
Red swollen eyes, sunsets of pleas for peace
Demons he heeds… she tries to make them cease
    Now crucified, she wonders why he leaves
    No prayers for her, will he say on his knees

© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry





Thursday 17 February 2022

22 Long Months

Armoured in P.P.E.
They bravely fight to set us free
Tight-fitting masks; sore faces marked
With tear-stained cheeks and broken hearts

They walk the halls and tend the sick
Through visors hot and gowns sewn thick
All their kit weighs a ton
Health care workers are never done

Days roll on... endless nights
Since they've been home; held loved ones tight
Exhausted, but they don't give up
Gently, stroke hands through latex gloves.

Holding phones when their patients can't
Goodbyes they witness; haunt their hearts
Families' distraught cries
As can't be by their loved ones' sides.

Kindness we'll not forget
Their passings; we have mourned and wept
As like our loved ones, some have died
Now the angels, they stand beside

For they are heroes of our time
Gave selflessly for yours and mine
Wear your masks: keep all safe
So their endeavours aren't in vain

Twenty-two, long... months now
Covid 19's spread we allowed
So gratitude, it's time to show
Act on what's been learned; what's now known

In our darkness, they shared their light
They gave us hope when we lost sight
Common sense, please, now heed
So from this nightmare, we'll all be freed

© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry.
Image by my daughter (aged 10).





Untrusting Eyes

No one's coming to save me;
the fairy tales all lied
I have tried to do the right thing;
myself compromised
I love unconditionally;
respect's not been returned
Gave my life rafts without thinking;
without being earned
Now left to drown in loneliness;
cruelly abandoned
Broken people have sharp edges;
cut and dismantle
Now I've only my breath to give;
no more beauty prize
The love, kindness the gifts I gave;
met untrusting… eyes


© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry
Both art and Poem





Autos

Flapping her hands to rhythm of the breeze
Rocking’s graceful dance; bare tiptoe feet
Head bopping side to side; pure ecstasy
She sees the world in wonder’s frequency

Dark clouds descend; anxiety floods face
Mum stands to attention; concerned, makes haste
Hands clasping ears; the playground’s now too loud
Chanting guttural groans from wordless mouth

Mum plans her next move, not sure of what to do
Groans become screams; frantic cries ensue
Girl drops to knees; head bangs the gravelled floor 
Mum cradles her head; knuckles bruised and sore

Frenzied girl attacks, clawing and biting
Mum keeps her calm and gently starts to sing
Teeth and nails draw blood; trickles down Mum’s arm
Undeterred, tries to keep her child from harm 

Onlookers unkind whispers fill the air
Horrified faces... in disgust, all stare
Other parents can’t believe what they see
Girl rips out Mum’s hair, then bites her own knee

Mum grabs her keys and jingles them up high
Spellbound girl stops; a tear escapes Mum’s eye 
Baby bottle of milk given to appease
Tittering judgements as girl is thirteen 

Mum doesn’t react, she’s heard it all before
She’s just grateful for now that peace is restored
Storm lifts from girl’s face; sunrise smile returns 
Twirling, unencumbered, spinning-top turns 

Autism was derived from Greek - ‘autos’
Ironic, it means - ‘total self focus’
We’re actually all the same, not different
Made of light and energy... love’s current 

We all have unique traits and have our quirks 
We all struggle at times, have things which irk 
So why don’t we support and empathise 
Apathy... civilisation’s demise 

© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry & Photo





Storm Gazing

Rain-waves crashing at my windows 
Cannon clouds booming in the night 
Firework’s invisible grand show 
Roof tiles salute the gale in flight 

Dustbin’s teeth, percussive chatter 
Plastic bag ghouls afloat on air 
Recyclables topple, clatter 
The roof groans, moans in its despair 

Mums anxiously peek through windows 
Kids, in duvet dreams spin, cocooned 
Shrubs curtsy and flowers bow low 
to storm’s war combatant platoons 

Dogs join in the thunder’s chorus
Dads rescue wet washing from lines 
Heavy hooves pound; Moon’s in Taurus 
Poseidon’s fork, lights up the sky 

Fine sprayed bullets upon glass pane
Rolling thunder and wind at duel 
House shudders; glass rattles in frame
Pacing cat, knows not what to do 

Letter box converse with drain pipes
Break free gutter becomes log flume
Vicious branches, vehicles swipe 
Darkling clouds; spiralling black plumes 

Brass number nine, spins on front door 
Dandelions decapitate 
Bare trees whisper foreboding lore 
The gate does its best to escape 

Polka dot sheep now all huddle
Swallows take cover in the eaves
I sit here in blanket, snuggled
Enjoying downpour’s symphony 

Though I worry for the poor souls,
who make their beds out on the street 
At mercy of weather’s control 
Global warming, we should all heed 

Now suddenly as it came, leaves
Leaves behind eclectic treasures 
Like murmurations lift from trees
Leaves awe’s gift of peaceful pleasure

© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry
Photography by Egor Yakushkin





Music

It's true to say you'll always be first love 
From when I found some 45’s, aged ten 
A beat-up box of stardust from above 
Spherical black diamonds grooved with awe, zen
Wrapped neatly in thin sleeves of brown cardboard 
Excitedly I fumbled with stylos 
Crude plastic toy, my Fisher-Price player 
Hypnotic vinyl disk spun, holed, eyeless 
Addicted drug of choice; it's my saviour 
.
My first hit; harmonies from John and Paul
“She loves you” ringing in my ears; so true! 
That moment, Rock and Roll it stole my soul 
Flooded my synapses with “love me do(s)”
Small boy and I dancing, bewitched by beat 
Two ten-year-olds attracted on playdate 
Music took my attention more than he 
For our first kiss, a while longer he’d wait 
As I was lost in music’s majesty 
.
Next time my pocket money hit my hand 
To local market record stall, I ran 
Like kid in candy store, my sweets were bands 
Perusing every cover my eyes scanned 
Artwork, the feel and smell intoxicates 
From there on in, my dreamer’s hideaway 
Where memories, emotions I keep safe 
Soundtrack to life, the music I have played 
My heart’s song is written between the staves 
Music, the friend that never left... it stayed
,
So many bands, into my ears have strummed 
Some lyrics, melodies frequent my brain
My heart, it's slowed and quickened to their drums 
Without them, I'd have surely gone insane
Jukebox mind continuously plays tunes 
Lyrics have quenched my thirst for poetry 
Songs’ inspiration led me to a pen 
Without my music, I would not be me 
Music will be my solace... to the end 
,
© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry








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