4 POEMS by Ailsa Cawley

Punk Noir Magazine


Little Miss Roses

Blithely you skip along your enchanted pathway that you’ve strewn with flowers
your world is so rose tinted and looks so clear cut
that you can already imagine the sparkling future with a rock on your hand.
And see what a wonderful time you’re going to make if only you could shut out the showers.
Those dark clouds that will hang over your head
filled with the raindrops your eyes are going to shed
tell yourself with each reality you make there’s something better than this
But never realised have you? They’re ten a penny wishes
like a dandelion that scatters to the wind in the breeze
You’ll canter on like a skittish Arabian horse, nothing to hold your head in place
So you’ll wander to the next and next with syrupy ease
Your so adept within your lie, you even fooled yourself
While you robbed a warm heart of all it could possibly give
with a vampiric ease left it beating slowly on the trodden earth
having touched the body and turned it to stone just like Medusa’s curse
You keep skipping happily along your merry route
For your last victim is stronger than you ever could see
ahead I am watching your rainbow far closer than you had done
I am struck by the fact you overlooked (on purpose?)
that rainbow tinkles prettily I grant you that
But it would, being made from coloured broken glass .



The world he’s locked in

His stories are those of a person persuaded

That life has passed him by

People crushing his spirit and grinding

Their heels into his head

Because he isn’t what was expected.

So he chooses the path of least resistance

Pressing a button that destroys his world

Because he’s afraid of losing happiness

Fighting it from happening is easier

Than the disappointment as it walks away.

He’s tired of hiding behind the shell of pretence

That he’s so carefully constructed

To show the world the clown who loses

But it’s there flickering , the light

That’s now refusing to be extinguished

Now he knows some people believe in him.




The smiling assassin

Smile on her face reaching the eyes

Appears as though she’s listening to your voice

She’s intense in her gaze

So full of sympathy and understanding

And her mission is simpler than you know.

The pulse points, weak spots, places to hurt deep

Have to be exposed for her

To do the work she’s intent on in the name of something higher

She will watch and wait a venemous snake

Her attack may not even be nigh.

Watch out for her she sits patiently

Biding her time to show off her craft

She sees herself as a public service always obliging

Her work is devious and scheming, masked as smiling and sweet

Spins a web of lies all around you tightly.

She’ll lean in one day to give you that hug

The eyes seem filled with love

Her hand you’ll feel run the length of your spine

And you know the pain as she digs in the knife

Another mission completed by the smiling assassin

She will calmly walk out the door.




Cup of healing poison 

Sip by sip from the poisoned chalice she takes the dreaded drink 

Knowing what it does but unable to stop 

It’s like a fire burning out of control and this is kill or be killed 

So she’s chosen to take chances with slow pain 

Something tells her whispering in her ear that’s the only chance 

Her hand quavers slightly as her smile shines 

No one shall see and she is ready to crawl away hiding as it attacks 

The fire is intense, powerful and consuming 

As she decides to take the last of it at a glug knowing 

Her last breath could come after this swallow 

She lays down to sleep like the dead, be the dead ready now 

And as she feels herself drifting 

Watching herself from afar her acceptance is final 

Her motto it is what it is ringing in her ears 

Sees a tiny shrivelled part 

Not a heart for she feels it beat louder and stronger than ever 

To herself she advances picking up the knotted cord 

As it collapses to dust on her fingers 

The girl on the floor awakes and walks into her shadow as she hears 

Welcome back welcome back lost one  

But it tasted so bitter and it was poisoned she thinks 

The voice replies this was your restorative like a cleansing pool

It was to wash you free of hurt 

You have to feel to remove hurt and it is now dust 

A fresh beginning is yours to take 

Be as a Phoenix and rise strong but gentle as the healing waters 

The past is gone, it is but dust. 

©AilsaCawleyPoetry 2016

Ailsa Cawley has been writing stories, poems and verses since she was a child. 
It’s not always what is considered poetry by some, as she isn’t a lover of sweet, schmaltzy rhymes! 
She is currently writing her first novel. A psychological thriller with a paranormal element, and she hopes to bring out a poetry collection one day! 
She lives on the Isle of Skye. While some of her poetry is written from personal experience, others are written from her slightly dark and twisted  imagination.