a ‘caithris / the wake

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This morning, awake i hear your tones, not

as a whisper, nor sunken dreamscape.

solid reality struck a chord, as i reach

out to touch known. expectant in explicit

connection. skin to skin. but you & 

all your rhythmic shapes, so full of energy

are absent. 

from my chamber. loss [rings] 

out. i know this place, the darkness recognises 

me. tomorrow screams and

sounds it’s memory in constant vibration. time

pays no heed to emotion 

lost, tears hit the space between.

objects remind, that you [were.] your watch

sleeps silently ticking in another land, beside

my bed. i touch connective warmth into

it’s face, the face that saw you live to ritual.

there is a stain, on my heart i can’t wash out.

drunk on vinegar, it remains

shadowed by the day after. when the world was

new to me. the first fall of snow, chilled boned

gutted rooms. i buried the daylight with your

leaving. boxed love up. that night i 

burnt summer in the backyard. ashes to ash,

& fed the weeds with love. all trace of us gone,

i wait for your return. i know time will

[wake.] recognising me in your face, 

sensing movement, inclined gravitation 

offsetting the [un]balanced, times hands will

[move]me on.

©Copyright Karen Bain 2017.All Rights Reserved. 

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mar chùimhneachan / in memoriam

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for as long as memory,  

i have stared at the

exit. a glow-worm radiant, switched    

off and on

in mind. it comforts me.

calming my thoughts, scorching  

past the c r i s s  

c r o s s landscape of

the never[mind]. 

only i hold the key 

that opens that final

silent room, inside the box,

inside the house of me.

i lived there,

once, safe. inside that room, 

absent of thought, 

inner silence 

runs as the ice river.

washing over me, subduing, submerging

my tears. i am smothered under 

molten earth. in that land, pain

lies down, & sleeps forever,

and all the fractured

pieces lost along the way

reassemble. i radiate onward

outwith the sun. the mirrored river

of life flows on, softening

the embers of the flames

inside the burn.

the soul will finally – be. 

in memoriam, i can return.

©Copyright Karen Bain 2017.All Rights Reserved.

an-luchdaich / overload    

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how did I get to this place ?     

this undetermined stop. inside the garden       

of the walled indifference    

of me. do i stop in recognition of these silent   

shadowed spaces. do they perceive me, at my

weakest point. do they hear the

static overload. the voices that push 

& press, all the buttons all at once.

the pressure to address,

the irritation in my mind. that is pulled 

to the point of overload. are they the 

silent witness to the thoughts 

that live past rescued reason. 

the shapes that watch & follow.

that walk, stalking beyond the cracks.

pulling me over the unseamed edge.

inside the well worn ridges of my

descending mind[set] in its oblique 

groove overture. 

©Copyright Karen Bain 2017.All Rights Reserved.

toirt air falbh / subtraction

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the only one who

ever gave me a refund

on how i was feeling

was you. the till

was always clamped. shut. no one had

what i was looking for.

no one recognised

i only had the exit. key in my pocket.

cold hands reaching.

i still see ,the sign.

flickering like a moth in and

out the light. dancing with

the devil. a glow-worm

burrowing in.

my exit – a becoming – glow. it’s everywhere i go.

the man with the blade follows me.

I follow the rich red velvet — the decompose.

he turns the light above the doorway on.when

i least expect it. leaves the door for me,

when im not okay. it’s okay to not be. i lie, in wait.

i glance into the distract. life trails away.

in the dark, droplets of pain flick off, metal glints.

pulling me.

pain lies,it knows no truths. its trickster whispers –

the becoming scream – in league

with the hellbrain. the dark subtractions

of me. suicides unforgiving past projector

lighting up. the wall ahead, distorting.

twisting my thoughts. wiping out all reason.

a static overload tuned to the judgement station.

the post it notes of past mistakes, razor wire stitched

inside my shredded, peeling soul.

if the devil is in the details,

who is it i see lurking

in the shadows of

disorder, waiting for me?

©Copyright Karen Bain 2017.All Rights Reserved.

Fìorachd mheasgaichte / Mixed Reality

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Between darkness and light

what hides in the shadows of

Our imagination

the tear in the membrane

of our soul..

Does our consciousness

Create what hides within

the fear that erodes from

the in

the break in reality..

housing the voice only we can hear

pecking at our minds in hope

that we give in..

We all live between the darkness and the light

In the cold blue black of night..

Which thread of reality should we hold onto

as we slip inside the out

when demons surrounding are too loud..

Perhaps the hush is within

the tears that flow

the glass shards imploding around..

the blood that pumps underground..

inside the shadows of our portable shell

the form in which we hide

from the hands that grasp..

Inside the house behind the door

that we bolt Shut..

to keep the monsters out..

In the pitch black of night

I hold myself on the cold floorboards

and pray to the darkness

in my soul

he’s the only one who will ever know…

©Karen Bain 2016.All Rights Reserved.