Poems!

Poetry  |  Candice Jost-Ward

A Child's Perspective

Through the eyes of a child
Everything is something
Infinitely more fascinating
Than what it really is.
A blanket of snow
Is really the perfect opportunity
To build an empire made of ice
And to conquer your enemies
With freezing cold bullets,
Your own arm being the trigger.

A dog is not a dog,
But, in fact,
A black stallion
To be rode into battle
Even though he keeps trying
To run away.

What is simply a carpet
To the untrained eye of
The adult
Is a dangerous
Journey comprised of burning lava
And dragons that can
Only be held back by
Pillows and armchairs.

And in the world of a child
Any plate containing mashed potatoes
Is a chance to impress mom
By replicating Mount Everest.
And though she acts
Like she is angry,
She has only forgotten
What it is like to see
The world in vivid colours.

So when her smile fades
Away at night,
To a child this is
The perfect time
To sneak into her room
And remind her that her bed can fly,

That they are captains on a ship
Fuelled only by their laughter, and,
As long as they both don't stop,
They are able to go anywhere.

And even though
To the untrained eye of the adult
It is only a mother lifting her kid
Up high and imitating the sounds
Of a rocket ship
In dimly a lit two-bedroom apartment,
To a child
It is the happiness
Of their mother
As she remembers
What it feels like to laugh again.

Villains

Depression is the most intrusive villain.
No restrictions
No boundaries
No limits.

Like a seed it plants itself
In the deepest parts of the brain
So as to grow roots there.
No one could ever hope to reach.

Most villains wish to rule the world;
They are the ones we were warned about,
The ones we were always most concerned
Would take over.

No one warned you that the most invasive one
Would be yourself.
A piece of your own mind,
Hellbent on destroying itself.

No one told you how all things vibrant
Would fade to grey,
And not the beautiful grey you used to
Love during a thunderstorm.

Your father made sure you understood 
To never talk to strangers,
To stay aware 
Of your surroundings.

He never explained that the hands
To one day hold you captive
Would be the calloused ones
That grew from your own subconscious.

You always knew to fear 
The monsters people could be
But the worst one by far
Found a better hiding place than underneath your bed.

This one hides behind your ribcage
Deep within the chambers of your heart 
Stabbing holes inside your chest
Each time you laugh.

Depression has this eerie way
Of sneaking up and somehow turning
Sunshine into this insidious 
Kind of darkness.

Most villains want to watch the world burn,
But this masochistic criminal
Only wishes to see its own body
Turn to ashes. 

You Are Like The Night Sky

Since childhood
The night sky has always seduced me with its quiet, ominous presence.
So please understand that when I compare the glow in your eyes to the blazing trail of Halley’s comet
It is not to be confused with the potential for disaster.

What I mean to say
Is that your soul burns brighter than our solar system's sun.
And even when you are sad your tears are glistening
Like falling stars streaming down your cheeks.
Your trembling lips are meteors smashing into planets
Only trying to be a part of something other than itself.

Your aching heart is a black hole
Once a massive star,
Destined to collapse within itself,
Desperately trying to be bright again.

Your thoughts are Jupiter's storm:
Wild, disarrayed and dangerous,
Always so beautiful
From a distance.

Your subconscious belongs
To the depths of the universe,
Unexplored for fear of getting
Lost between the galaxies.

You are the lucid night sky
And I have always loved you from afar.