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Wednesday, 21 January 2015

What's Your Style?

Style is something which
cannot be bought, as it's not
only in your clothes,
worn... it's in your compassion
intentions, words, deeds and thoughts


So careful how you
accessorise what's truly
important! Follow
not the trend... as it's how you
live that matters, in the end! 

© Debbie Razey 2015




Tuesday, 20 January 2015

Regret

ephemeral 
talionic satisfaction 
- lasting regret 

© Debbie Razey 2015

#senryu

Winter Rain (haiku)

winter rain -

Jack Frost's melted tears

sting my face


© Debbie Razey 2015


Art by Spicefire





Flock (haiku)

flock descends
pepper-dashed field
- taste of morn

© Debbie Razey 2015

Photography by Photoweasle 


Saturday, 27 December 2014

Ribboned Possibilities

As I stand on burning embers of the past 
I watch myself, the younger version of me, 
falling.. dreaming through time's murky
tobacco-stained clouds, smudged by tears
A single blackbird's feather lingers, foreboding;
a sign I unwittingly missed or chose to ignore
Treading through the mire of expectations,
misplaced loyalty, idealism and molten fear 

So many sand grains I have futilely squandered; 
and, for what, an imagined fairytale fictitious love
Was I, am I... really that scared to be alone? 
Oh how I wish I could recycle every spent clock face; 
using each as a stepping stone to venture boldly
to where I've not yet been brave enough to be...
beyond the clouds of dreary, muddied conformity 

Now I step into the uncharted azure: to realise both my 
rainbow-hued dreams and my unclaimed identity 
My self-belief's lantern now lit, burning fervently, 
it is time at last... it's time that I finally meet me
A mercury balloon, filled with more than just my reflection,
I'll let myself go... I'll allow myself to float on free; 
a plethora of ribboned possibilities... just for me! 

© Debbie Razey 2014





Thursday, 18 December 2014

Slaughter Of The Innocents

Precious innocents; loved ones so brutally slain
Dreams, hopes and future aspirations... all in vain

Blood saturated textbooks and personal belongings strewn
Abandoned backpacks; lone survivors in the aftermath... doom

Desks stand empty; reminders of those who once sat there
Families ripped apart; mothers bereft... does any one care? 

Bullet-holed walls whistle horrors, too horrendous to speak
Doors were no protection, as violently murdered were the meek

Classrooms; now mortuaries, the silence filled with prayer 
A country in shock; racked by sadness, anger, grief and despair

Education, punishable by death, was their sole victimless crime
Young lives extinguised futilely, in what should've been their prime 

When will the bloodshed end; the world's children be left in peace? 
Time for the gunfire to end; for the hatred and discrimination to cease 

© Debbie Razey 2014






She Walks Alone

Hooded;
she walks alone
with melancholy thoughts 
of yesteryear's fate that led
her here
The path
before her now,
filled with trepidation;
beckons with both promise and fear
She must 
walk on!
Destiny is
merely signposts from which, 
she herself, must ponder and choose
the way
Bravely, 
she carries her
heart and forgotten dreams...
hoping the lessons learned will guide
her home.

© Debbie Razey 2014