Phoebe Carter
Soul Poet & Creative Writer
Phoebe Carter
Soul Poet & Creative Writer
Soul Poet & Creative Writer
Soul Poet & Creative Writer
In my head, I’m done… Moved from living reality But reality is stuck in two And I silently scream
In a heap - can’t describe Lost on a sea never been sailed And I’m sad - so sad drowning in a sorrow so deep
Where do I turn? In my head, I want you here But I’m swirling In this churning hole
Despair is rising The grief that wasn’t spent Is chipping Tapping my shoulder saying
“Hey, I don’t think you know me but I’ve been here all the time and I’ve been waiting… You’ll get to know me well, so well”
And he went - Only behind a thin veil But he’ll return again And again
I want you - only you… You made me feel so alive But you’re not here You’re far… so far
And I’m slipping away Lost on an empty sea with nowhere to go I’m drifting, only one way… I’m done
©️Phoebe Carter 2024
I remember when we realised That you were the sun And I was the moon.
It was laid out in writing…
And the sun and the moon met after dusk.
The sun warmed the moon and The moon beamed a brilliant smile And the sun’s rays were gleaming.
The sun and moon met many times And their rays of light intertwined… Shining in happy smiles.
The sun would kiss the moon goodnight Then rapidly disappear… And the moon would feel sad.
Sometimes the sun would pop up And the moon would be radiant… Shining its light with excitement.
But eventually…
The sun’s rays dimmed and disappeared And the moon cried, so many tears.
The moon waited and waited For the sun to shine once more… But it had gone.
The moon waited so long For the sun to return And imagined all sorts of things.
The moon stopped smiling And it’s beams were very dim.
A little voice said… “Do you think the sun gets lonely up there?” And the moon began to think.
Where was the sun? Where were its rays? It was nowhere to be seen.
The moon dreamed of the sun In a far off land And the sun was shining quietly.
The moon missed the sun so much And would think of the sun being lonely…
So after dusk, the moon closed its eyes And dreamt of being sunkissed…
And the moon quietly smiled And shined brightly once more.
©️Phoebe Carter. 01/05/2024
I hated the awkward classroom… set pieces to study and interpret, collections of old words; stuffy and unexciting
I flunked the mock literature exam… parental payment withheld, works of the greats untouched; only language class remained
Roll on many years… experiences mounted, feelings rose, language came to the fore… poetry spilled onto the page
Intermittent waters have passed… swirling seas and entwined estuaries, raging rivers and struggling streams; an ebbing flow of ink…
Spurting speech setting rights, peaceful peonies showing face, holy holistic interludes; surfaced scenarios explained
Language can be spoken… words told - maybe forgotten; In the hands of a poet, the pen of life is held
Tapped out, it never lies…
Today you told me you thought I should leave…
…Funny… Did you harbour that up your sleeve?
For ages you’ve said that you’ll be going…
Silently I’ve waited and there’s no knowing
‘Cos really…
One moment you’re blazing like a passionate sun…
And next you’re cold with a frozen tongue
One moment you’re wanting all you can get…
And next you behave like you’re on ket
And really…
I’ve had enough of the highs and lows…
Watching your shadow and under my toes
Eggshells have broken too many times…
And I’ve had enough of returning tides
Time ticks slowly but itchy feet wait…
Test of time Who’ll push the gate?
So really…
I’m waiting I’m in no huff
I wait to see what’s up your cuff…
©️ Phoebe Carter 2023
Can you hear it… Can you sense it… Can you feel it?
I’ve sent you whispers across the seas I’ve sent more than whispers - You know me
And many times, you’ve whispered back And I’ve caught your breath, and yet I lack
The sweet little nothings in my ears;
Instead long silences and induced tears.
“Thank you very much”… her voice wavered, as the waiter placed a bowlful of soup in front of her. She savoured the smell… “So good”, she thought. Mavis looked around at everyone seated; all talking.
Sometime later, the waiter returned to collect her bowl. “Everything ok, Madam?” he asked “Yes, thank you”, muttered Mavis, under her fluttering napkin. The full bowl was removed carefully,
“Oooh… lovely… My favourite!” exclaimed Mavis, when the main was brought before her gleaming eyes. Mavis inhaled the joyous smell of meat and fresh vegetables. She loved a hearty meal. Mavis looked around at her counterparts, all looking happy and ready to ravish their food.
“For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful!” Grace came a bit late. Starter was over. Some had started their mains already.
“Tuck in… please!” said the Chairperson of the dinner.
Mavis fiddled with her chicken… cut it up a bit. Then she started dissecting her potatoes. Mavis tossed and turned her food, her knife and fork playing duel hopscotch across the plate and back again… then she played pea hockey. Mavis built a football pitch on the china base; started building walls with her parsnips and built substantial goals with her firm sprouts. Quite a work of art, in fact. Definitely warranted a selfie for the gallery… but not with a smile, if only she had her phone.
The waiter returned and cast his eyes around her creation. “Oh… that looks great, madam.” He leaned down, in a peaceful manner, towards Mavis. “Are you not hungry?” The waiter paused and looked at Mavis with a quizzical eye, waiting for a response, or an excuse. Mavis shook her head with a pitiful look, and laughed with her mouth closed. The waiter caught her eye. “Would you like pudding?” Mavis gave him a nod. “Jelly and ice cream, ok?” Mavis pouted, gave him two thumbs up and smiled with her mouth firmly shut.
Thank God for that, she thought. Good old fashioned party food. The waiter returned. “Here we go, madam… especially for you!” He patted Mavis gently on her shoulder . “I hope you enjoy your meal.” He smiled and winked at Mavis then turned away.
Mavis blew a kiss at his departing kindness, and this time, smiled with parted lips… a happy and shiny pink crescent.
Mavis hungrily slurped her pudding from the soup spoon, then tipped her bowl at forty five degrees and used her tongue to dap up the draining jelly. Mavis finished, licked her lips and wiped her puckered mouth with her napkin.
One thought in her mind. Dentist on Monday.
I’ve always wondered about birds, and how it feels to fly. The nearest I got to fly was on the end of a rope, attached to a speed boat, with a sail above my head… Parascending in Tunisia; a great experience above the sea and sand… I’ll never forget that feeling.
If I was to be reincarnated, I have often wondered what I would come back as… Maybe a cat, because they get loved and attended to and they dream for hours. But then there’s the possibility of being a bird… now that’s the thing… flying and swooping and darting with the winds… how much pleasure they must feel.
But here I am, now… a human in chains… waiting to be released from a matrimonial sentence, stagnating in a pool of despair, burdened and battered, bruised and limp, dying from suffocation; the list gets deeper, with tidal waves lapping, ebbing, returning… bang!
But wait… I am a bird… a caged bird… waiting to fly. Am I ready to fly, I wonder to myself. Am I perched with a noose or chain? Is the cage door oiled enough to open wide and let me out at the right time? And what is the right time? How do I know when my decrepit wings will be strong enough to carry me away? Should I start preening now in anticipation of that brighter day… my release date into self love and freedom?
I don’t know. So many questions. So many tangled thoughts. So many chains.
I sit on my perch. One eye open. Waiting… For freedom.