Author name: Hayden Veil

In an earlier incarnation, Hayden Veil enjoyed a successful career in software engineering, writing late-night poetry in pursuit of sanity. On 2 February 2020, the world of Hayden Veil changed: Ghosts became real and with its soul laid bare there was no turning back from the perpetual path of poetry.

For the Unwritten

Poetry Drafts / / By 
Wordsworth – the value of words
taken out of context, taken out of
circulation, taken out by fools
carrying their precious red pens
in pockets of immaculate shirts,
circle the wrong, circle the guilty,
weild thy sword against their
better judgement,

weild the power of a single word

for the fallen few

for the -- unwritten

.

A Wilted Rose

Poetry Drafts / / By 
da19596e4c55b690da7c39b81fbed341f052a20e-8645083


(and for all of you with screen readers, as text, which Tumblr is likely to FU)


A Wilted Rose


The question I pursue is not
whom I this night should bed
nor who would willingly so do


Nay


The question I pursue instead
who did in those earliest of days
my cradle rock & tilt so fiercely


Aye


The question I pursue always
who did such damage inflict
that a self once tall stood now
merely to a wilted rose compares

Poetry Drafts / / By

smakkabagms:

autumn, darkwood
nighthag, swoop down
deft on bitter wings 

the garden of my heart’s black swan has been
wrung by the neck, unfleshed as the bone
from a woman’s cage

her hands have finished their
ceaseless kneading, if only to pause
for a moment          over the ancient waste

of her silence – stilling as the moon’s blush 
    does, sore with a hunter’s knife, murder
and clenched pale hands in death

autumn, all crimson, wet us our arrows
in the Other’s wound – I want to unlearn

the world

to keen and wail for the depths of it
buried, unburied, forgotten

white whale swimming

Poetry Drafts / / By 
I grew up in the cold





                      the dark





                      the lonely void that was





Origin // with its shine // the polished





                                                   surfaces,





T





  h





    e unexplained understated





                                        I WAS DIFFERENT





I grew up in the cold





                       the dark                   ness





                                                         still





                                                               lingers





but I see the white wall





               the white whale                    swimming





I stand corrected





                                           & Yet Alone

mesmerising art

Awesome Art / / By
6d5609477b1c80c88795c63640d647628f8c6faf-9476993

Just received these beauties from talented artist @lydiateasedale They are completely mesmerising, I will spend this weekend finding all the hidden images inside. They might even inspire a poem or two.

💜

Poetry Drafts / / By

griefxaddict:

11/10/20

I ask the ocean to forgive me. A tidal wave of knives washes over me nightly. I wake with a thousand wounds. I never heal. I will drown someday in sharp steel and warm blood. It draws me back, dragged across the sand like a blade. Forgive me. I was deep, and I was afraid. Sweet melancholy, sweet grey death slowly. Cruel sea you stand before me screaming with a thousand broken voices. Give me a song to sing so I will not be silent. Give me words. Exhaust me, my mouth is full of blood. My teeth ache to the root, I am grinding myself down to the truth. Slow truth, I am drowning in you. Forgive me. I love to drown.

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