The Gnome

They call him the garden gnome,
Oversees all debris that is thrown,
He wanders through planes of torment,
For his soul is forever dormant,
Wading through mushy soil and turf,
Listless and senseless – alone in this earth,
He peers knowingly over his picket fence,
Years of lost hope the feeling grows intense,
Watching out for incursions into his plot,
He has been isolated and long forgot,
Blades of grass ripple to reflect his insanity,
Noone but him to witness this calamity,
All but one friend coming into sight,
The badger roaming his garden come night,
But again comes the sun and he is alone at dawn,
Longing for the day when the gnome is reborn.

My lovely sister helped me write this one ūüôā

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Heartbreaker

They always said I’d be a Heartbreaker,
With my baby face and awkward charm,
Most girls never have a heart to start with,
So what’s the danger in being false,
I’m too quick for the dull and coarse,
I go for the good ones.
I hurt a good one.
And I’ll never forgive myself.

I find it too easy with words,
To say what is deemed right,
The pen certainly has might,
Though a thick sword does help,
Blessed I guess but still cursed,
In that I can’t find someone,
I won’t do this to.

They still call me a Heatbreaker,
Not sure when they won’t,
But when I don’t break hearts,
It’s instead mine that breaks,
Plunged into icy lakes,
Rip out my oxygen so I can’t breathe,
Give me back my heart and leave.

At least I’m not conceited,
I know what it feels like,
I really do.
I feel for you, I do.
I feel the scars that won’t heal too,
Us broken hearts are united,
But I’ll carry on breaking them.

They call me the Heartbreaker,
Not a giver but a taker,
I’ll take your heart,
Warm it and let it stew,
Until we are through..Broken-heart-broken-hearts-6853604-947-872

The Hunter of Paradise Shore

Of all the places I’ve come across and been,
And all the people I have acquainted and seen,
There are none that stand out more,
Than the hunter of paradise shore.

Many a throng of tourists gather,
To this serene locale and enjoy the weather,
Many of them are women who aim for a tan,
Mostly they drink though, craving a man,

And there is no-one happier to oblige,
Than the lone stranger watching the tide,
When nightfall comes they are safe no more,
From the allure, of the hunter of paradise shore,

Come nightfall he emerges though he is never known,
As he approaches the demure lady dancing alone,
He grabs her hand and spins her around,
Next onto sanctuary hills where they tumble on the ground,
Down the slopes rolling until the beach they land,
Waves stroke their feet while they copulate in the sand,
She sighs in ecstasy and hopes that this could last forever,
Holding onto the hunter, his hands as calloused as leather,
Drifting off into slumber, she believes this is her man,
But the hunter of paradise shore has instead another plan,
He wanders off into the dunes, waves crashing at his heart,
It still feels empty despite the night getting off to a healthy start,
It still feels empty and small, not growing like a runt,
It still feels empty despite a successful first hunt!
Dawn is still far though he realises distracting him from his cold core,
There is still plenty of time contemplates; the hunter of paradise shore.

He stalks the next bar until he adjusts his fine aim,
A shy woman comes into sight whose trust he will maim,
He approaches her with eyes glinting in the luminous moonlight,
But a fist reaches out by a man who he believes wants to fight,
But the hunter is surprised when the stranger asks him to sit,
The stranger is I and we begin to talk after a cigar has been lit,
I look in his eyes and see icy emptiness with no sign it will thaw,
Many a story of his past I learn from the hunter of paradise shore.

Sad cruel fate landed him in this ominous state,
I tell him now that to change it is never too late,
I tell him I’ve been watching his antics for the past night or so,
And that he not only hurts his prey from actions so low,
You’ll never fill your heart of the hole that continues to grow,
Or melt the deadening ice from your past which you need to throw,
Instead find a girl that makes your heart flutter and shake,
Before you tumble down dunes and your thirst it will slake,
One day you’ll realise it doesn’t matter how many notches you¬†carve,
If you deprive yourself of a soul mate and instead just starve,
So listen right here you hunter of these paradisical shores,
Put down your rifle and your heart may very well thaw!
And with that the hunter listened with moistening eyes,
And knew there and then that he had been living through lies,
He lay down his weapons of his ghastly trade,
No more poaching for him as he rests in the shade,
No longer nocturnal he takes solace from the sun,
And pursues other methods of how to have fun,

The last I saw of him were years later under an old palm tree,
Holding hands with a child and I knew at last he had been set free,
I came and drank coffee with him and his kin,
So calm and serene living a life of no sin,
I looked in his eyes and saw that the ice had long ago started to thaw,
The most interesting man I met was that hunter of paradise shore!

 

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Blossom

Passion is sprouted from a moment that is instant bliss,
It cannot be explained but once experienced we will always miss,

So we grasp on to next encounters in the hope that something is born,
Like a seed planted we watch as it grows and pray it is never torn,

Once fertilised by emotion it gestates and we gaze at it’s splendour,
Relinquishing past demons and believing that this feeling will be forever,

Like a living being it enlarges the more it is watered and fed,
Through happy combined memories like the first time in bed,

Shared is this brilliance that devours all else in it’s path,
Grey days are now distant and the sun envelopes us as we laugh,

This is what happens when happiness is brought and people ignite,
A coming together of souls is something that is hard won through a fight,

But once achieved it is forever held dear,
Watch as it blossoms and show no fear.

The Ballad of the Waltzing Eyes

Green steel irises dart out from beneath dark curls,
Changing shades to iridescent blue – while my heart unfurls,
They lock onto mine, the effect immediate amidst changing hue,
Pairing pupils shadow their partners dilating straight through,
Sheer honesty in this moment is painful raw as it is also sombre,
A sharing of this time and moment, true understanding of our wonder,
This happening eclipses before the tides of passion wash over,
While mirrored in the sea-green patterns of my sight passing yonder,
Contemplating our blossoming love – the sea parts to reveal calmer reality,
And with this I show my true eyes – lightening in rapid haste to icy blue,
No longer impenetrable, they reflect my heart and we both now know
– that this love is true.

But the eyes ballad does not end there.
They grow weary and tired before they tear,
Their gazing dance away from each other,
Off to waltz with another pairing lover.

 

Jagged

There’s a jagged path that stretches far,
Memories formed through each turn like a scar,
You’ll meet many along it that much is sure,
Some will dish you pain while others are a cure,
To all the troubles and strife you meet,
Those certain companions – the pain they treat,
Cherish the ones you loved and lost,
For they in their own way lessened the cost,
Of stumbling that path completely alone,
Instead they raised you up and helped you home.

The Wolf confronts the Sheep

His breath wheezes out into mist dissipating into frosty dawn air,
His eyes beleaguered by constant strain rest upon the object of his hate,
His sinews stiffen as the object of his focus hurry out of their lair.

Inverted are the roles as the weak have massed together,
Shambling along in nebulous mass looking for their chance,
Trampling out of the woodwork in streams that stretch forever,

Their insolence easily whiffed by his nostrils,
Their deranged lunacy carried by a steady wind which ruffles his matted fur,
Their sickly presence an affront to previous kills,

The Wolf knows that he is better
The Wolf knows that his time is now,
The Wolf knows it’s now or never.

With howls that reverberate through the sodden field,
He snarls and stamps at the soft moss crushing beneath his feet,
The shambling sheep pause for a moment as if they will yield,
But they carry on careless for any danger they may meet.

The Wolf is outnumbered but has his wits and pride,
No matter how many outnumber him, his instinct has been unleashed,
He has been dogged, cornered and tortured for so long with nowhere to hide,
And even if the masses swallow him up, he’ll kill and enjoy the feast.

How did this come to pass? This swapping of natural roles,
It comes from the conceit and idiocy of just a single man,
That spreads like wildfire to others of similar frail souls,
Cowards that are only brave in number – they destroy what they can,
The natural order is there for reasons forged in centuries of toils,
But as purile propaganda spreads it makes the weak sap off the strong,
Be like the Wolf who defends against weakness Рshould you wish to live long.
And that lesson learned for those whose heads are held high can be triumphant in song.

Update

I know that this update will not reach many of you as I only have a few followers and as of yet my exposure is very limited for the time being.

However it is with great joy that I can tell you all that one of my poems is going to published in April within an anthology.

I will release all details when the time comes but I am very chuffed to say the least that I am finally receiving some recognition. Do not take that last statement with the notion that I am conceited and believe I deserve some heightened outreach. No, it just feels wonderful to be acknowledged in any form and I truly do appreciate this limited success.

I have a new poem that I will release on the page tonight/possibly tomorrow which I believe some of you may like. I have started to spend more time on each poem rather than just hammering my fingers away on a keyboard while under a creative spell; in the hope that it will be a decent prose.
This and the fact that I have been busy over the Xmas holidays is my explanation for the lack of new material on here.

In the meantime I thought it would be fun if you could all try and guess which Poem is the one that has been selected to be published by a large poetry foundation – the answer may surprise you!

Message me privately or comment below – which you think was the selected poem!

Thank you for taking the time to read this and I wish you all a Happy New Year.

With Warmest Regards,

Halvard

Pain

How much anger will I bring,
Tenfold the length – of a piece of string,

Being fucked around by ones you cherish and love,
Pushing me to the edge from which I will shove,

You into a black cauldron of pain and anguish,
Don’t blame me for this chaos for which you wish,

To bathe in your own self-contentment and lust,
For things that are warped and can never be just,

I try to speak sense but I just receive derision,
But you continue to lick that candy of delusion,

So I keep quiet and put on my mask of blissful sedation,
But you should know I have so much raaaage beyond description!

I run and punch air just so I can breathe,
My heart pounds and pounds but no answer I receive,

My anger it boils and swirls and weeps,
You’ll force me to let go and make that leap.

Of which I’d rather not do.

But you led us this to this.

Oh the pain Рit vibrates even more so.