Saturday 21 February 2015

Epiphany ~ Celine Hatting

I will not lie to you -
this poem is bare.

There is no deeper meaning,
no syllable counts,
and no perfectly planned stanzas.

There is no hidden message,
no underwire,
and no witty play on words.

I have not chosen my words
carefully.
Rather, I have sprayed them
bombastically across the page,
hoping they will somehow
find their way to each other.

And if these confused words happen
to qualify as poetry,
I would be so grateful -
because that would mean
that I have something
out of nothing
just as words have made something
out of me.



© Celine Hatting 


 *** 
Matriculated 2014 
 ***

Life War and Other Poems ~ Celine Hatting

LIFE WAR

Text me first, damnit.
Bring me flowers.
hold doors open.
take my hand and
look at me like
I put the stars in the sky -
because you want to,
not because you have to.

Talk to me -
make poetry of it,
record it,
imprint it into the very
memory of your breakthroughs -
and know.
Know that I will be here
to read it over and over:
because I want to,
 not because I have to.

Build a bubble with me,
and as time escapes us,
pull me in closer
and make our dome smaller
until it is but you and I,
and the world a
rainbow-reflection on the surface
of our sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HALF-WIT REGRET

Burn me
as I have burned you.
But do not use the candle I did,
oh no -
use the scornful words and gazes
of those breathing
to scorch me bare
'till I scream out and regret
not running
when our two stars
shining
first met
and collided
 - shone briefly -
then faded.
For one must choose to
be part of 'society'
or 'love' freely
and I did not choose you.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

APPRENTICE

Rectify me.
Inject your chemical perspective
into the spectrum of my platonic iris
to make blue frost
on the windows to my soul
clear and balanced and summery.
Make my life-taught cynicism
collapse; give way to the
ocean-liner oil-spilt rainbow
  - choke it down -
turn it to idealism.
Turn my heavy black feathers
to white fluttering wings.
Take on a duty
that you were not born with
and have no obligation to take.
Cut me deep.
Diminish the creeping, diseased problems.
Sew me up.
Rectify me.



© Celine Hatting 

 *** 
Matriculated 2014 
 ***

Sunday 15 February 2015

Three Poems about Love ~ Celine Hatting

JULIET & ROMEO

On nights when clouds smother stars
I wonder what it might have been like
had our young bluejay not
been plucked from us before it first flew
and before we'd learned to pay.

I wonder whether we would've withered
 - we were, after all, gardenless weeds -
and whether we'd have grown to be
(as we are nonetheless)
one, broken and proud
one, false and broken.

But as the stars shine through those malicious clouds
I am glad
we were not brave -
I was not honourable
and you were not noble
but I am less blind than I was then
and I am glad
we did not have to die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DINNER DATE

Take a bite out of me.
Sink in your teeth: rip.
Take nibbles and chunks
memories and sky-falls
pause to savour my iron hue
Then swallow.
Swallow me whole
disperse me entirely
Knitting our enzymes and molecules together
until we are nothing but one body, soul, mind.
Let the parasites of my tainted flesh
creep from your tummy-box
and reside in your mind.
To the front, right behind your skull and eyes
to see what you see
through your eyes.
What are you waiting for?
Conscience plays no part.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SEARCH

In everything
He was my starlight.

At times when I
Thought I was lost...
Evening melted with dawn;
You came back -
Over and over like
Underground caves bursting with
Mediterranean tides.

Over and over -
Thought I, lost, did not deserve him.
He came back.
Every time.
Renewing me.



© Celine Hatting

 ***
Matriculated 2014
 ***

Saturday 7 February 2015

Selected Poems by Celine Hatting

WINTER GUILT

Ice cracks bare
over tattered shoes
and torn feet.

Dust-bin fires and their makers
breathe slow
and heavy
and sick.

Creased rags and creased minds
tearing where there should
be no tears
and folding where there should
be no folds.

Exposed hands red
but not from bloodshed
for that is work
of the Godless man.
The same man that
passes us each day
lending not a helping hand
so that we may pull both
our weary feet
out
of this grave.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


NOTE TO PARENT

If I should be a mother
I will sometimes serve lemons for
dessert, because life is bitter-sweet.

There will be no punishment for
drawing on walls; only frames.

I shall tape scriptures to their
foreheads, so that no matter which
way they turn, God will lead them.

If a stray should be found, they
may keep it, for it is certain that
within a few days it shall be a stray
once more.

And if they get lost, I will not worry -
whoever took them will send
them back faster than I could find them.

And yes, they may play with their food, because
art can be made from anything, and
artists can be made from anyone.

They will laugh.
Loudly.
Raucously.
Heartily.
Incessantly.

Until it is time for bed,
when they will lie down
and look up at real stars,
and love their mommy -
because she'd moved the ceiling.
For them.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


ANALOGY

You are not the kind of
pain I am used to.

You do not slap,
or bite, or pinch.
You do not graze
upon my knees
or bruise the tissue of my skin.
You do not force
the bones of my hips apart
or unravel the pattern of my sleep
with pointless incessant noise.

You are colour
so bright that you burn through
the very eyelids of my shut eyes.
You are fire
warming me so completely
that my vision dances before me.
You are grace
so patient and forgiving
that it makes me ache to think
of your borrowed woes.

You are mine.
of all the beautiful women
that bless this vast, fruitful earth
you chose me;
and I will spend the rest of my life trying to understand
why you sacrifice yourself so.




© Celine Hatting

 ***
Matriculated 2014
 ***

Sunday 1 February 2015

Because ~ Celine Hatting

Because there is so much pain in the world
Because I don't know how not to notice the tragedy
Because this isn't a phase
Because we're sick of waiting
Because people are always leaving
Because the silence is too loud

Because all the pretty daydreams stay plans
Because gold rusts
Because God allows torture
Because we allow the torture of others
Because we're all cynical sadists
Because we're all disappointed idealists

Because we were taught, way back
        when we were little, that one may never
                 start a sentence with 'because'.


© Celine Hatting

***
Matriculated 2014

***