Exhilaration and Peace

I catch myself

Catching sight of my self.

My true self.

And the peace at the centre,

It fills up.

I'm alright. 

The flashes of freedom 

I've staked.

And I've claimed. 

The exhilaration, 

And peace.

It fills up again. 

S. Camplin 

 

Six Degrees of Separation

 

 

I wanna feel

What I feel

When I feel it.

 

I wanna own it.

 

Not be a boxed up,

boxed in.

Labelled 'thing'.

 

I wanna express it.

Not separate it.

Like a silo, with a one way drive.

 

I wanna elucidate.

 

Be connected.

Not separated,

From how I really feel.

 

 

S. Camplin

 



Let the Blood Run Free

 

Out the blood flows.

She instinctively knows,

What time to come and go.

 

Words get spoken.

Tensions raised and broken.

As she has cleansed my womb.

 

So let the pain go.

From within you, below.

And cleanse in order to sow.

 

The sowing will reap

Wise notions to keep.

As she is the life force of all.

 

 

S. Camplin

Cycle of Abuse

 

I'm a survivor.

One of many.

A warrior.

If I may.

 

Been made to feel small.

Not caught when we fall.

But now we stand tall.

Or so we should.

 

I'm a survivor.

One of many.

A warrior.

If I may.

 

Though it ain't that easy,

To shelve responsibility.

To free the guilt,

The shame and blame.

 

I'm a survivor.

One of many.

A warrior.

If I may.

 

Of course,

I'm strong.

I didn't do no wrong.

I must remember that song.

 

I'm a survivor.

One of many.

A warrior.

If I may.

 

 

S. Camplin

Silence

 

Silence is peaceful they say.

Enjoy the silence.

That is true.

 

But I know that silence

Can be a friend to my enemy too.

 

The bully, the abuser.

Is that you?

 

So to shatter the silence

Is not always bad.

To be seen and not heard,

But be misunderstood.

 

So let's shatter the silence.

Let us end the violence.

 

 

S. Camplin

Warrior Marks

 

I brandish my scars

Like warrior marks.

An inner armour.

 

Not to harm you.

Rather, me.

 

Now learning to be.

I contemplate.

Resonate.

No longer berate

My healing soul.

 

There's a whole there.

Somewhere.

 

And I brandish my scars.

Like warrior marks.

A metaphorical armoury.

Coveting harmony.

 

 

S. Camplin

Morning Fairy

The garden changes shape

As the morning lifts.

The shadows shift away

With the dawn.

The eeriness diminished.

Things look soft and free.

The trees that once were monsters,

Are just friendly little ferns.

And what once was dark and scary.

Has been banished away by a fairy!


S. Camplin