Haiku

Oscillating. They
Surge, and ebb, and grow. I yearn
To go with the flow.


Love chopping garlic.
Love the smell on my fingers.
Love eating garlic.


Steady moon. Our rock
Of ages. She waxes. Wains.
Her spirit intact.


Mindfulness can be
Freeing. Be aware of your 
Feelings. To let go.


Avocado. For 
Brunch. Smooth and creamy, it's a
Delight for the tongue.


The bulbs are planted. 
Their green tips breaking soil. I'll 
Harvest onions. 

Sister. My Sister.

I see you walk on by.

Wearing ya downbeat swag.

A pram laden down.

Many worries in them bags.

Your courage and strength.

On making ends meet.

My heart becomes humbled.

You are the unknown soldier.

So I honour you now.

As I honoured you then.

Sister.  My sister. 

Our fight will go on!

S. Camplin

Digging Your Vibe

An intriguing woman.

With a deep intellect.

A surreal sense of humour.

With a macabre wit.

Your laugh is like a ripple.

So present.  So free.

With a beautiful quality,

To let others just be.

And at your core,

Are not empty words.

But an ever-fixed conviction,

For full equality.

Unique in your way.
As the green of your eyes.
Calm and earthy, and wise.
I'm really digging your vibe.

S. Camplin

Dark Crevices

Boundaries breached.

And I reach for

The familiar.

The drone.

The tone of being alone.

In safer spaces.

Dark crevices.

All creased.

Folding in.

Reaching out may hurt.

So I remain wrapped

Round the coil.

Of my own making.

S. Camplin

A Tsunami

Emotions crash in.

A tsunami of feeling.

Wreaking uncertainty.

A tidal wave of pain.

Anxiety in trails.

No bank of wisdom

Can stem the tide.

Still struggling

With my vulnerable side.

I can't hide from it.

And nor will I.

I resolve to be kind

On my mind.

Hoping to find

That level shelter.

For longer and longer.

Each time.

S. Camplin

 

If I Could Show You...

 

If I could show you how I feel,

I would...

 

Kiss your neck.

Stroke your arm.

And look deep in your eyes.

 

Laugh with you.

Dance with you.

And walk hand in hand.

 

Debate with you.

Rest my head on you.

And give you my time.

 

Praise you.

Smile with you.

And raise you up high.

 

 

S. Camplin

My Feelings

My feelings

Are not a broken toy.

To discard

When play is over.

My feelings

Are precious, just like yours.

So to dismiss them

Is really hurtful.

My feelings

Are real, just like yours.

So treat them like

You mean it.

S. Camplin

Maternal Deference

I see the way you defer to him.

Preferring his opinion.

Lip service you pay,

To equality. 

You're threatened

By my freedom.

 I hear the way you defer to him.

 So proud of his achievements.

My womanly success

Is undermined.

You're uncomfortable

With my strong feeling.

S. Camplin

Confusion

Confusion abounds.

Strong feelings

Surround us.

Intense.

We connect.

And yet,

So far you are

From me.

Unavailable.

Unobtainable.

I resign to the table.

To desire from afar.

S. Camplin

My Love

Loving is for letting go.

To want you to be free. 

For you to grow. 

To bloom,

And to know. 

That my love 

For you is true. 

S. Camplin

To Trust 

Openness and trust 

Are qualities 

I admire. 

Secrecy and the covert.

Not things 

I desire.

Transparent. 

Apparent. 

Nothing to hide. 

Honesty is sexy.

The truth. 

For me.

To communicate freely.

Being open. 

Being real.

S. Camplin 

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

Soft Breeze

You are the softest breeze.

Floating.
Free flowing.
To show,
A beauty that knows.
To bear fruit,
So rare.
Is a quiet power.

It's an honour
To share
Some
   Time
     With
          You...


S. Camplin




Splitting the Atom

 

Splitting the Atom

 

Each atom has particles,

They say. Many, many parts.

Each soul has a memory.

A story.

A part.

 

Billions of stories.

Each to their own.

But we judge and we value.

We rate. We berate.

We hesitate too,

Until it's too late.

 

Billions of stories.

A dot. To spot from above.

All imbued with meaning.

Lest we forget that we have.

 

S. Camplin