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‘The out from under’
Mar 1st, 2014 by Entropy

A quickfire poem – from the hip, without polish

‘The out from under’

I struggle beneath his ego
It takes up all the place
I’m pressed into the corner
The walls press on my face

I cannot seem to move
It’s getting hard to manage
He’s sitting on my head
And doing lots of damage

I’m choking in his shadow
To find the smallest chink of light
I will not give up trying
But I am too tired to fight

I don’t know who I’m fighting
Is it him or is it me?
Is this my ego bruising
Or has his begun to breed?

If he’d move over just a tiny bit
And make a little room
Then there’d be air and light and space enough
For everyone to bloom.

I’ll never win by jealousy,
Nor competing. Not by rage.
The book of me is all my own
So turn to my next page

I only win if I do not fight
And don’t give mind to trouble
It’s time to breath in my own light
And pop him like a bubble.

– a quickfire poem
By Kathie Kingsley-Hughes

‘The Tiny Me’
Mar 1st, 2014 by Entropy

A quickfire poem – from the hip, without polish

‘The Tiny Me’

There’s a little me, who I hear, who I know…

She’s very small and quiet and she doesn’t show.

But she’s wise and brave and doesn’t give in.
While I struggle and fight and can never win.

Her voice is soft and often lost
amid the daily clamour.
She doesn’t seek a word of praise, competing for the glamour.

And she carries on regardless, in her child-like playful way,
never worrying or caring if her toils see light of day.

If you care to hear her speaking, you may have to listen hard.
But first please drop all your judgements and soften up your heart.

As the outside me grows older, she doesn’t seem to age.
And the outside me gets colder, she never feels my rage.

She just plods on in darkness, not seeking the smallest chink of light, while I struggle to be noticed and fuss and fume and fight.

I wish that I could be her, if only for a minute.

And then perhaps I’d free her …
… to live beyond my limits.

A quickfire poem by Kathie Kingsley-Hughes

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