Archive | December 2013



The indistinct

muffled sound,

the beating of

the rhythm pounds.

The image vague

the motion slow,

people coming

people go.

Voices muted

feelings numbed,

Head full of the

music drummed.

Laughing loud

talking crap,

someone makes

another wrap.

Passed around

another drink,

distorting into

clouds to think.

Crash and burn

into each other,

intense and lost

crazy lover.

Up for four days

down for ten.

Sleep it off

and start again.

©Jacqui Slade

Long Distance Heart

Sometimes in life
we should refrain,
from venturing down
memory lane.
The road is fraught
we recollect,
all of the things
we should forget.

We must go on
we can’t reverse,
or undo hurt
we must traverse.
I siphon all
the joyous things,
that being with
my heart beat brings.

Transporting them
in words to laugh,
bringing to life
our photographs.
Our heads are jammed
in traffic past,
wishing each day
we spend would last.

In time a mile
is clocked as day,
when each one sets
you slip away.
Long distance heart
you guide my seat,
fuelling my life
with every beat.

My happiness
goes up a gear,
every time that
your beauty’s here.
Forever loved
in spirit kind,
your essence mapped
it steers my mind.

Life’s journey’s short
your face my haunt,
and in my dreams
to you I jaunt.
Always so close
yet distance grieves
our bearings lost
each time you leave.

Now every time
embraced goodbyes,
our eyes so brave
inside we cry.
Headlights shine on
the tears our kiss,
you know my babe
it’s you I miss.

©Jacqui Slade

The Wind

Beware of the gentle breeze.

It appears to be so placid

as it speaks to us in

mellifluous whispers.


Its faintness is a mockery,

taunting us warmly.

Its placative tickles

brush past our faces.


Their embrace is cold.

Its undercurrent winds

around the trees. Slowly

in flirtation they arch.


Orchestrating a wailing

and brutish aria, it gusts.

Without relent and we

disappear in its vortex.

©Jacqui Slade


I am a keeper of thousands of souls,

daughter of nature that you can’t control.

Known for my beauty I turn on the charm,

in sunlight I glitter, so tranquil and calm.

Then my mood blackens, and men feel my wrath,

taking out everything that is in my path.

A tempestuous force full of emotion,

the moon pulls at me guiding my motion.

People don’t see past,my aqua blue coats,

skimming my surface in their little boats.

Don’t see my colours or wonderful features,

forget I give life to some amazing creatures.

More than a liquid object of pleasure,

giver of legends of monsters and treasure.

A body of water that you cannot drink,

it’s in my hands wether you swim or sink.

Rolling my waves I like to provoke,

lapping and teasing with my frothy cloak.

I’m timeless and playful of me you’re in awe.

Spellbound by my splendour,

you stand on the shore

©Jacqui Slade

Candle Light

She lives her life

by candlelight,

sitting there all

through the night.

At the table waiting for,

her true love to

knock on the door.


.It seems so many

years have passed,

since she saw her

lover last.

He will return

by candlelight on

a wet and stormy night.


She sits there when

the darkness falls.

Watching the shadows

on the walls.

The flickering flame

a lonely dance.

Lost in the memory

of their romance.


She hears the sea

and forlorn gale.

Remembers how

he’d set to sail.

The wind that builds

for the drowned weeps.

And through the air

their wails creep.


She knows tonight

the cliffs are jagged.

The foam releasing

souls are ragged.

She feels the tension

mount and rise,

the candle blowing

before her eyes.


She feels him coming

the time has come.

The pain once felt

sedated numb.

The windows shaking

her heart beats quicker,

and all the time

the candle flickers.


The flame burns out

a gentle breeze,

puts her spirit

so at ease.

He has returned

now she is sure,

as she hears him

knocking at the door.


©Jacqui Slade

The Ice Queen

The bitter winds of lives long past,
converging in a house of glass.
Their whispers blow a spiteful hiss,
roiling in gusts to reminisce.

In her reflection sour and tart,
she polishes her glacial heart.
So beautifying her beguile,
a masquerade for her revile.

Enchanted by her icy spell,
the captives self is hers to quell.
Her frigid empathy deceit,
her sense of wealth in her conceit.

And sermonising from her throne,
she casts her truths of bitter stones.
Majestically her self concealed,
Her crown a moralising spiel.

The pebbles thrown were precious jewels
awakening her trusty fools.
In verity gems ricochet,
they saw her frosty heart was glazed.

Her vitriol a hurricane,
and spurious eye too strong to feign.
Struck by her own flaws she was hit.
Exposed in wails a hypocrite.

A peaceful solitude the calm,
came freeing them from her charm.
The lives they led were hers to dream
a jealous thief of self esteem.

Shattering the mirrored palace,
are intimates of her malice.
Her reign has gone their hollow friend
the hoax of love was at an end.

©Jacqui Slade

The Book

It was with luck I rediscovered
a little worn and dusty covered.
I picked you up fondly with a smile
thinking it had been a while.
Your spine was tatty a little bent,
but that you were loved was what it meant.
With dog eared corner and yellow page
your musty smell a sign of your age.
Once belonged to my grandmother,
my favourite book there was no other.
So on a comfy chair I curled
as your story once again unfurled.
Know off by heart all of your text,
always know what’s coming next.
Lost I sat there with you in my hand
on another trip to Wonderland.
In deepest thought I turned the page,
a childhood story hadn’t aged.

©Jacqui Slade


A brutal flicker of candle light

stole the black away from night.

In fusion with the hellish flame

the spirits of the lifeless came.


To drift along in soul less dance

across the air unearthly trance.

They open doors to things unknown

welcoming the twilight zone.


Lunacy shines in their eyes

they dwell beyond the darkest skies.

They are the shadows and the thread

of cobwebs drape upon their heads.


And so they come to walk again

to let the mortal feel their pain

The wind carries their tortured cries

the blackest lonely lullabies.


Conjured by some evil curse

under moonlight they disperse,

to seek out loved ones left behind.

A visit of the ethereal kind.


They leave a cold chill tingling air

an entity you feel them there.

You freeze in dread disbelieving

a visitor on all hallowed evening.

©Jacqui Slade