The Oceans Of Love

f53c3c54b1d1004b7e6736f720e0cfef

“I have a fear of life, a fear of myself. Living is falling, ending, smashing and destroyed.

A life of flaming hell lived within a void.”

So spoke the lady of tarnished love as she recalled her time.


Time is relative to a moment, a particle of space, so abstract as not to exist or feel.

Yet a time is so tangible, so physical, that it is real!


“My time was palpable, it pulsed, it beat.

It threw passion, it threw heat!

My time was invisible, not seen, nor heard.

My loving invitations were ignored or spurned.”

Indiscernible now stands the lady of tarnished love,

As words that are hidden inside a conspectus glove.


The oceans carry the tears that were cried when love confessed.

The crashing waves of the ocean are like the fears that love expressed.


© 2015, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

Advertisements

About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
This entry was posted in Author/Writer, Raconteur and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Oceans Of Love

  1. gardenlilie says:

    Reblogged this on theivorytide and commented:
    Very nice Danny. When is enough? The picture, though, is a welcoming void.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s