Anita Magdalena

Anita Magdalena

Friday, 15 November 2013

Forget Me Not Days.

exhales in flowers
like ghosts from the grave
and echos left on her lips
risen from a haunted throat
that caught the tears
she once swallowed        
when he was
leaving her
chest still holding
the breast bone that
he carved himself in
with love that spread
deep into her marrow
and it eats
through her heart
like agony
she bleeds in flowers
that he left
in her hair
of daisy chains
rooted eternal
with kisses so soft
pressed across her collar
she curls into herself
hugging the pain
that tears right through
he left
with love that never waned
a bond intact
in separate worlds
on different shores
the nights
are starless since
he walked away
and never looked

Written by Anita Magdalena.....

Frozen Lips.

I used to think your hands were beautiful
the way they curled around my celibate years
waking the dormant hollows in my institution
finding me in the dark corner of my hideout

you blew on me in dandelion escapes and smiles
I fell hard into your attentions with reckless abandon
crashed on the other side of what I didn't see coming
I had to catch myself before the ground hit me
harder than ten rounds with my incessant defiance

It rained heavy on the backbone of my pride
I guess I lost count of how many times I kicked myself
my eyes stung all of t

I felt derelict like an abandoned building
where the only sound was the wind howling like sorrow
and the cold held me all of the way to my marrow
your name hangs from my lips like icicles waiting to melt
Written by Anita Magdalena......he way to my throat
and my clenched fists were too heavy for me to lift

Smoldering Embers~

Emotion like a shift in wind direction 
a silent flutter through the layers of pain 
dancing on the smoldering embers 
              amongst a bed of ashes 
petulant upon my frayed edges 
here on the rocks our time has landed 
           slick as I slip losing my grasp 
becoming lax in my effort to even try 
morning leaves nicotine prints 
        on disappearing aromas 
attempting to impersonate my sorrow 
the sun dazzling my eyes mocking me 
In strict silence I strip the order of woe 
                scorn it with my mind blade 
                     in stealthy determination 
                     surreptitiously I cut it out 
A mob of sparrows perch in my view 
cheery in their distracting hearty troll 
as if paradise is halfway across 
                             my bleeding heart 
extortion fresh in the palm of my hands 
luminosity fading fast from my space 
I bury my face in my bedraggle pillow 
     where fresh tears play out a story 

Written by Anita Wakeham.........


I flat-line on the page 
swig the bottle of ink
until it runs through my veins
permeating my mental mourning
awaking the dormant sanctuary of words
lighting up my dusty diction

pen dreams of the man
I've yet to meet
His eyelashes
cast spider leg shadows
down his cheeks
heart shaped lips
in need of quenching
pale complexion
heightening the dark half moons
under his piercing eyes

liquorice flavour lingers in my mouth
I want to  share it with him
Feared love that races past my heart
let his fingers travel like vines over me
His cloak of darkness and mystery
playing with my crumbling resilience
to never fall in love again

and I create with my swallowed ink

he touches my mind
with compelling whispers
his bloodline sketched in haunting worlds
I inhale the scent of his history
it plays behind my cinema screen eyes
my fingers cling to the curve of his spine
I am falling
spiraling into his invitation
and I write our wings of flight.   

Written by Anita Magdalena.....