Posted in Peotry

Daddy’s Angel

I saw him pacing through the passageway to the theatre room,
The man in white said there was nothing more to be done,
She had passed away,
Am sorry you couldn’t catch her before she escaped through the roof.

Like most people, he needed proof
So he walked in to see love laying breathless, covered in clothe
He held her hand hoping she would squeeze
He kissed her head hoping she would blink
But this wasn’t the movies,
and love isn’t that magical light that refills empty souls
He could not love her back to life.

He had to try
He had to do something so he started to cry
He prayed a prayer that even I couldn’t hear,
Two hours later she laid lifeless
Murmuring to a God that obviously couldn’t

hear him or wasn’t interested when he said save her and take me instead.

Should I have held him back?
Should I have said it would be alright?
Cos I just stood there watching,
After he was satisfied with proof that tears could not heal he walked right through me
into the loneliness of his mental illness

Maybe there was something I could do
But angels don’t save people in distress
We just watch as souls are stolen from
Happy homes without defenses
God isn’t up there looking out for every
single one of us
Some say he’s up there playing chess
with lucifer but I feel he’s tired of us all,
of churches, synagogues and mosques
He’s up there, busy not caring anymore
Just like my daddy the day he walked right
through me

Posted in Peotry, Thought

Peace in Piece

I do not understand what comes out of my pen sometimes, when you take apart the rhyme and read in between the lines to see what’s rewritten behind the talking letters that seem to make sense to the blind you see that
I am like a mouthpiece of someone or maybe people
good but sometimes evil
When I put pen to page I try my best to cage to separate thoughts that are not mine and those that are insanely serpentine
The difference is usually blurred like who is and what was, what’s his and what’s us what’s ours and who’s source, his fault and our course,
the weird parts and the broken lines tell stories that reveal that the true nature of the real authors are of hidden colours and not of us, unsure, divorced from the mind of the hand that pins it down.
When I sit to dine, to confide and maybe subtlely device means to entice them into the light, they fall far from sight into the dark ark of my own thoughts
in those moments I fail to believe my subconscious is my own or in any way under my control

When I put pen to page I try my best to cage to separate thoughts that are not mine and those that are inversely divine
and at the end of the page I pray that the words that lay spreading venom in my name are at least half mine

Most times I lay my piece in peace on beds of withered roses and examine, letter by letter, word after word for days and hours for something I can not decipher and never am I ever able to distinguish real from feeble or my own hand writing from pure evil

Posted in Peotry

Pray for Me

If I were Him I wouldn’t waste valuable time on me, or my prayers
But maybe he would listen if it’s coming from you
Cos some kids are loved more than others
and other sheeps are black and don’t talk to their fathers
So whenever you can… please, pray for me.
I remember our last confrontation
As usual I was being stubborn
I stormed out
never to come back
tore my birth right in half
spit on the alter
he made for us
to communicate
once in a while
Am not asking for forgiveness
for Christ’s sake!
Don’t try to undo my mistake
When you have time
Whenever you can
Pray for me

Posted in Art, Peotry

I didn’t Fight Back

It came upon me at the dead of night
Usually I’d try to scream, kick around,
Try to move towards the light, despite
every effort I still wake up with scars
So this time am not going to try
to escape the gapping hole I’ll just lay
and let it unfold

It came
in it’s usual way
few seconds after I prayed
I felt my essence, soul or whatever keeps us alive drain out of me but this time I didn’t mind
cos there are some things you can’t rewind
no matter how hard you fight it’ll happen in time
It came, laid next to me
maybe it noticed I didn’t even shake
so it crawled on me to have it’s way.

He said he loved me
Whispered that it wasn’t a sin
So I let him come closer
made attempts to take off my clothes.
Every thing that happened that day
died that day but is replayed in my head
once every two days.
It wasn’t rape,
it isn’t ever!
when someone calls you forever
and attaches baby to your name
then leaves you hanging after he
has had his way
So when the demons came and whispered to me I knew to listen, to heed and stiffen my heart to the voices of all those who claimed they loved me
I wouldn’t fight when they asked me to end my life cos I knew they were right
This world wasn’t made for one as feeble as I

For ~Red

Posted in Breakup, Love, Peotry, Uncategorized

Don’t talk to Strangers

Written by Elysian Huyz

One day when we break then crumble into pieces of melting ice
Remember how much I tried to shield us from the heat of our shy pride
Am not conceding defeat,
And I know the world was once at our feet
right before the spark in your memories
ignited like morning stars, exploded and died.
This is not a battle cry but a warning
A great storm is coming
I feel it in the swiftness of your kiss and in the
false resonance of your sleeping heartbeat.
Come home before the clouds become too grey and you lose your way, remember you said
the prettiest of hearts are not won but made.
So we hugged until our hearts turned to gold,
the glimmer in your eyes seemed a little dull so you thought to replace me with a diamond but baby maybe
This smile you take for granted today would someday fade and no one else would love you like this lump in my chest, if that day ever comes
Remember how hard I cried to keep you away from the siren songs of frozen mermaids

Posted in Peotry

Homo erectus


Written by Elysian Huyz

At the end of the light we are not just people, ordinary people. We are the reason the world turns, the reason the sun burns. We are reason the earth quivers and breaks, the reason it cracks and shakes, the reason the seas dance, the reason they fly and fall, creep and crawl into homes and shores. We are the earth, the mother and the child, the reason the forests yawn and cry, wither and die. We are the crazy and the mild, the lazy and the damned. We are the aliens beneath the skies, the darkness within our eyes.  We are the pride,  the ego of the tried. We are the guilty, the acquitted. We are the son, Adam’s only begotten scorn.We are the reason the mountains roar in fear, we are the reason for the beginning, we are the end. We are God’s chosen.

Butterfly Cigarette 

Written by Elysian Huyz 

I am a mother of two
soon to be mother of one
and then mother to tombs 
casted so delicately that
no one can see.

But they were just kids!
Kids that didn’t get to
play in the rain,
suffer from malaria
once a month,
get discriminated against.
They didn’t get the chance
to make the same mistake 
I made like giving birth 
twice before turning fifteen.

Posted in Peotry

Deciphering the thoughts of a broken Scribe

Written by Elysian Huyz

It always sounds so beautiful

in my head at first

until it shatters into air size

atomic particles and fall

unto a blank sheet of

photoelectric paper as a

scrambled puzzle.

Some words get lost in thought

others lose essence, stutter

and fail to glow in the dark.

It usually starts as a spark,

an ignited tingling in my heart.

A word, a line that lingers and

meanders into a sea of parables that

even I sometimes do not understand,

other times as a rhythm, a rhyme

that sings into a lonely child’s lullaby

reminding him that the stars on his

ceiling are fake.

A flood of fluid emotions that drowns

clowns in a tea cup filled with air,

stripping him of the candle that makes

his smile funny to strangers that need it.



It eludes me like the feelings I

try to catch up with but stumble upon,

falling on inverted letters, words,

riddles that am supposed to make

meaning of but fail, to catch the

butterflies that float in tiny spaces in

my head, fail to dance with the dragons

that breathe memories that leave sun

burns on my chest.

It confronts me again

something I’ll ultimately fail to understand, like

How sounds make meaning to the deaf

How night makes difference to the blind.

How am I to explain to you

how feelings are coined, create equations that result

in questions like how babies are formed,

with just words, words that do not magically create like

let there be light or minds ignite.

This is what am enburdened to do;

Make ships fly, help dry bones rise

Make tears into fluids that seep into veins

and leak into brains to tell a troubled mind

that someone out there feels the same way

as you.

ART : Linnea Strid

Posted in Peotry

Empty Awakening

Written by Elysian Huyz

After a long time I saw you

In my dream again,

and by long time I mean

Six months and two days.

Nothing had changed,

We were still enemies

I still hated but wanted ou,

You still had that careless look,

Like I wasn’t even there.

The difference?

I didn’t wake up with heavy eyes

or a troubled mind.

You were gone in the night

and gone after I woke up.

It just didn’t matter anymore!

Art: Netanel Moran

Posted in Peotry


Written by Elysian Huyz

Numb to all pain but that which hurts The scars on wrists scream in testimony

But I just gaze in thoughtless wonder At the wounds that make this all bearable
The pain doesn’t hurt less cos
Pain knows pain
As skin knows blade

Take a moment from outside the circle Come see how red blood cells sickle See only the horror of our ways
As the poison flows through open veins But wait, look!
The shadows go brighter, screams less louder,
In one moment everything fades into nothingness,
Silence traps tranquillity in my erupting mind.
I don’t hurt me…I hurt those that hurt me;
The monsters and voices that keep calling
The choices and mistakes that keep reoccurring
The chronic insomnia that leaves me stalling.
This is how to take away their power. In one flash of blade peace finds me Then leaves again
Paving way
For predators to return to their prey High court, supreme judge..
You don’t know where it hurts
Just where it cuts
Stop treating the wrong cause, Accusing the wrong source,
You only making it worse.
Its all…
Candle wax, burn scars, skin holes Flying darts, hidden marks, Broken parts, fading laughs Needle sharp, lonely heart.

Art: South Yorkshire outsider artist Paul