Heavens' Embroidered Cloths

The poems of Josephine Barrett. 'Tread softly because you tread on my dreams'

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Hands

These hands are my hands They tell you who I am, They have always been with me Since my time began, They have carried many burdens So very different from your own, Sometimes that weight was shared Sometime I lifted it alone. Not used in prayer but wisdom, To teach, explore and learn. My hopes and dreams are visible. In every crack and scar and burn. Used in love so tender, Clenched tight in anger hot, And in every misadventure My hands have felt the lot. They have seen me through the bad times, And clapped with me in pleasure, My most faithful companions, Too many uses for me to measure. These hands are my hands, They will show you where I’ve been And when my journey ends, My hands will be with me. Josephine Barrett 03/02/2016

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Haute-Savoie

They pierce the sky Glittering peaks of bright white Majestic beauty

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Autumn

The tree starts to die Yet the leaves seem more alive As they learn to fly

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The Day after Paris

I woke up today Which is far more then some have My heart is with them

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Where has my mojo gone?

When I first started writing poetry it was born out of a teenage need to release my emotions. Most of my first poems weren't very good and often they were very anxt riddled odes to problems I didn't really understand yet. As I got older, poetry still remained an emotional outlet for me but often with a real personal experience or base. On top of this (now I am in my mid twenties) I have actually started writing about subjects I am not angry or upset or happy about. I have started writing about things or people who inspire me. I have started researching subject matters, and paying more attention to form. I have taken inspiration from nature, my job, modern culture, current affairs, my family. It is no longer (always) just my initial reaction to something spewed out onto the page. And with that I feel like my poetry has grown. But recently everything just seems a bit dulled and I can't write at all. There is a deadline looming for a new writers submission and I can't find any inspiration from anywhere. I am drawing an absolute blank. My head is like an old western film with a tumbleweed blowing across the shot, while the town folk hide from the lawless cowboy named 'Inspiration'. The question is, how do I break out this funk? Where can I get my writing mojo back from? Answers on a postcard pleas.

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The Red Kites of Harewood

We used to drive past the woods, On the way to my grandparents house, And my dad would point you out, Telling us how they brought you back from the brink, How they helped you to flourish, Roughly once a month we would hear that story, As we drove through to Leeds, trapped in the back seats, Nowhere to go but into our own brains, Nodding politely and saying we know, Little did I know how much you’d come to mean to me, How you’d become the only bird I recognise, Your elegant shape hovering in the sky, Riding the air, barely beating your wings, Your feathers angular and precise, Your sleek body a burnt red, When I see you now my heart gives a flutter, A feeling of soaring in my chest, A flash of childish excitement, Half expecting to hear my dad’s voice, Speaking of your resurrection, But he doesn’t tell that story anymore, I don’t know when he stopped, Maybe, just before I realised I was listening.

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Dive

The water is indigo black And cold What lies below? I don't know The rock beneath my feet Starts to crumble So I leap

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In the Eye of the Beholder

I saw myself Reflected in the light That glinted from your eye A me more beautiful Than I could ever dream 8/10/2015 Josephine Barrett

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I dream in rhyme! From time to time they wake me from my sleep. A rhyme that is so haunting, I forget the dream and weep.

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I Hear Your Voice

I held your hand today And comforted you as you cried, You told me how, after 50 years Your husband had just died, You say you feel lonely And you don’t know what to do, That you have a daughter But she never visits you, You say you aren’t mad at her, And you know that she’s busy, But there is sadness in your eyes, That is obvious to see, Your appointment was 15 minutes And we have gone six into the next slot, It might mean I am late home today, But I will happily take that lot, Just to wipe your tears away And walk you to your taxi, Your slow, another five minutes gone But I link your arm when you ask me, It is clear you are frightened, To face this journey on your own, And I can’t help but wonder, What you will do when you get home, I have to say goodbye now, You squeeze my hand thank you when we part, Speed walking back to the department, But with a heavier heart, And it is on to the next patient, Time to get back in the game, Still, when I get home that night, I call my mum all the same.

Josephine Barrett 03/10/2015

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Take This Body

She coils herself around him, Holding on so tight, Afraid he will leave her, And he might, Because he always seems, To have one foot out the door, And another girls number in his phone, And it makes her wonder, If she would be better off alone, Instead she lives in constant fear, While trying to use her body, To keep his mind near.

19/09/2015

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The Lakes Edge

The wind gently blows, Making the water kiss the shore, And I feel so at home, When I have never been here before, It’s like a forgotten memory, Or a dream I can’t rewind, But the rolling hills surround me, And soothe my troubled mind, Exposed to the elements, Yet I feel so secure, And all those broken nights, Disappear in a blur.

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Skeleton

I found an old picture of myself the other day, Stood next to my sister at a wedding in a dress, So skinny from stress you could count the bones in my chest, At the time I thought I had the smile just right, But there was no belying the pain in my eyes, No man has caused me pain like that before or since, Maybe because no one has ever got so far in, Into my heart and my head and every pore of my skin, You were in every muscle fibre and every bone, In each bit of my body you claimed as your own, Your exit from me was brutal and swift, At first by your choice but then with a kick, You had cheated and lied, hiding it with a kiss, Making me forget as you pinned me by my wrists, But as you left you tore me to shreds, Until there wasn’t much of the old me left, Just a hollow eyed skeleton in makeup and a dress.

Josephine Barrett 06/08/2015

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Growing in the Dark

It's like the sun never found me here, I never grew as big or bright or colourful, Didn't bloom in the way you did, Attracting all the bees.

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Roots

I grow towards you While you just grow away I only hope our shared roots Bring you back to me one day.

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Forbidden Fruit

The sleeves of our shirts touch, As do the edge of our knees, The feeling is like lightening, Its hard for me to breath. I know it’s not an option, But I know you want me too, It feels like our little secret, An act we will never do, I feel my heart rate quicken When I hear your name, And with all the small glances, I am certain you feel the same, You make small contacts, Where others wouldn’t touch, Knowing you are hers, Is almost too much, But I would rather have you And keep our silent pact, Then break society’s rules, And never get you back.

July 2015 Josephine Barrett

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"You stand, forgotten, in the long light of autumn. And you are glorious, incandescent."