cathdavies

Poet living in North Wales

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  • cathdavies 3h

    World.

    World. Deactivating . . .

    Us. Transitioning . . .

    World. Hoping . . .

    Us. Transforming . . .

    World. Regrouping . . .

    Us. Reinventing . . .

    World. Traumatizing . . .

    Us. Elevating . . .

    World. Thriving . . .

    Us. Listening . . .

    World. Finalizing . . .

    Us. Dying . . .

    World. Resurrecting . . .

    Us. Surviving . . .

    World. Everything.

    Us. Everlasting.

    @cathdavies

  • cathdavies 4h

    Year Zero

    In year zero

    data is the only evidence

    we ever existed.

    The frozen news feed.

    The faded profile pic.

    A deactivated world

    while life starts again.

    But even if

    we know from experience

    only dystopias come true,

    then indelible

    is every life on Earth.

    If this present comes true,

    our pasts are truer.

    For every word

    mouthed in remembrance,

    memory is not blank,

    despite a blank screen.

    @cathdavies

  • cathdavies 4d

    Control leads to chaos,
    chaos demands control.

    @cathdavies

  • cathdavies 5d

    Believe
    your
    own
    myths

    @cathdavies

  • cathdavies 1w

    Wild Woman of Flintshire

    She longed
    for the Ordinary World
    of Duran Duran.
    Trips to Vienna
    by Ultravox.
    Instead, the old blues
    play across Halkyn Mountain
    as she walks.
    Like A Prayer
    she is Wuthering Heights.
    Her life is a song title.
    The Pandemic
    is a rubbish name for a band,
    but the B sides
    are wild.

    @cathdavies

  • cathdavies 1w

    Footprints

    This is a Normal
    haunted
    by ghosts.
    Memory stands
    towering
    over the streetlights.
    Over the streetlights,
    the death
    of innocence.
    Death of the innocents.
    But as we step
    into empty footprints,
    we never
    happened.
    It was always them,
    shadows
    vanishing
    under the young sun.

    ©cathdavies

  • cathdavies 2w

    Third Wave

    I raised my eyes to the sky,
    before the rain,
    the lost rain from a forgotten place
    took the prayer
    of an entire civilisation
    and answered it.

    @cathdavies

  • cathdavies 2w

    Toughness made us tough.

    But compassion made us tougher.

    @cathdavies

  • cathdavies 2w

    Life challenges
    like a kick in the teeth
    sometimes.

    But love
    is there to pick up molars.
    To straighten the jaw.
    Thank God.

    @cathdavies

  • cathdavies 2w

    A Year On

    A year on,
    the March daffodils
    are still yellow.

    Feet still pass them,
    and comment
    how beautiful they are.

    As words retreat,
    all they need
    is the sun and rain.

    The sky feeds them.
    A year on,
    there is no less of them.

    It is like they grow
    outside the life spans
    of anything else.

    And a year ago,
    this poem would end
    right here.

    But for the feet,
    a year on, mourning
    the less of us.

    ©cathdavies