victoriastokoe

Original poetry by Victoria Stokoe ~Instagram ~ victoriastokoepoetry

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  • victoriastokoe 3d

    Treadmill

    The only place I could feasibly be alone,
    would be the moon.
    Listening to Rae..
    In my swirling head, that's where I'm sat,
    on a blanket of grey dust, that's where I'm at.
    Looking to Earth my feelings take flight,
    there's one I leap and grab...
    The cosmos is not taking that...Not tonight.
    I imagine the people that make the world go round, yet in their silence I sit, with one perfect sound.
    A treadmill of white and green and blue,
    soon to be darkness, scattered lights,
    a mind-blowing view.
    Yet it's nice to stand back and be alone for a while, I'll take everything in, breathe slow, switch my frown.
    I watch lights glow and dim and wonder if it's the reason for new lives and long rests,
    a circle never ending.
    Shooting stars pepper the night sky as people's dreams leave a sorrowful goodbye.
    Is this why I'm here observing?
    Traversing this space between what is and what could have been..
    What is now, is a chance to really see,
    that we need to be kind, as kind as we can be.
    Dreams whizz past without a chance at all to be.
    Off to somewhere, only they know where,
    where they were never meant to be.
    The thought I held onto, was why am I here?
    Everything has its reason and this life we should never fear.
    We can make our days fruitful or we can walk, oblivious to it all.
    I now know why I'm here
    and if I feel I should forget.
    I'll go back to the moon
    to sit on the grey dust to recall.
    People are lights,
    notice if their presence starts to dim,
    as their shadows fall lightly,
    seemingly invisible to all.

    13th January 2021
    Victoria Stokoe
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 4d

    Mind bin

    When bitterness becomes a normal reflex,
    the mind shimmies straight to sour thoughts.
    You become your thoughts and you become your actions.
    You become the hurt that you've never caused.

    You become the pain that keeps you moping, you are a reaction to someone else's
    woes.
    You become the burden and the bulb that's broken, batteries drained with no strength to recharge.

    Become more mindful of your words unspoken.
    Ditch the things that hurt the most.
    You are worth all the weight of your heart that's golden.
    A life unfrozen, with all your strengths exposed.

    You are worth a life where negativity isn't chosen,
    Shimmie to the mind bin with all the anger
    and let it go.
    Erase the last line,
    WALK BOLDLY and focused to the mind bin.
    You are worthy of this life, let the anger go.
    Victoria Stokoe
    12th January 2021
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 2w

    Marcescence

    You lost your shine as winter fell,
    yet your crisp autumnal umber shades,
    stayed to warm our days so well.
    You cover as a jacket, warming
    your beloved frosted tree.
    A home for birds to nestle,
    a perfect shelter,
    against an icy breeze.
    You cling to the year, the
    seasons of your days.
    You cling to the branches
    as a mother holds her gaze.
    Loving this place, this moment,
    she never wants to leave.
    Loving the laughter and the freedom
    as her children run round the trees.
    In Spring you'll want this freedom,
    you just dont realise that yet.
    With the warmness of the daytime,
    100 years of umber leaf falls set.
    And the buds of a 100 births are
    emerging, fresh as a dewdrop day.
    Until then you'll cling to the branches,
    till you let go, floating down, on a
    Forget-me -not bouquet..
    Victoria Stokoe
    4th January 2021
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 2w

    Not the things

    Shall I dream big
    this year, 2021.
    Shall I write lists,
    become obsessed again,
    with far too many things..
    The disappointments
    with the things that
    I'll never achieve.
    Life's frustration
    is not an option
    and my priorities
    have certainly changed.

    What's been missing
    is not the things..
    What's been missing
    is the hugs and the
    calmness,
    that a long hold brings.
    The faces I need to
    see in real life,
    not on a phone screen.
    The people we've
    protected,
    stayed away from.
    A cruel kindness,
    it always seems.

    Yes I'll still dream big,
    as big is what I've been
    missing.
    Big is family and friends.
    Big is kindness and new found
    strengths.
    Big is strangers, an ear to lend.
    Big is people, big is our hearts,
    with love to the brim.
    Big is definitely everything.

    Victoria Stokoe
    3rd January 2020
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 3w

    Tower

    I'll take it with me.
    The sharpness
    of your tongue.
    I might need it
    one day..
    To argue,
    with a backbone..
    When I find
    I don't have one.
    You crushed mine
    heavy handed.
    Left my soul
    without its shell.
    I'd scream the words
    back at you
    but only silence fell.

    These words
    became a tower,
    on which I based
    escape upon.
    The spiral steps
    would take me,
    to the top
    where starlight shone.
    When there was room
    no more for letters.
    The tower toppled
    and solace broke my fall.
    You continued with your
    shouting but between us,
    words formed a wall.
    What flew over it was spliters,
    glass shards and daggers..
    I got them all.
    In a bag they clink and rattle.
    I have your sharpness..
    In there I'm sure they'll stay.
    There was no need for them,
    to rain down,
    no need for them at all.
    Victoria Stokoe
    28th December 2020
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 3w

    Year to view

    I take my feelings with me,
    I don't leave them as I should.
    Some thoughts that float beside me,
    I feared, wouldn't do me any good.
    On the outside I am contoured.
    On the inside a jagged rock.
    This year has been a tough climb..
    The view, a mixed bag from the top.
    But one thing I am certain,
    we made it, rose high above it all.
    We're all here upon the plateau
    and we're never going to fall.
    The good times I will highlight,
    yet the bad I won't ever forget.
    This year has taught me plenty,
    I am humbled by its kindness,
    feelings of gratitude and
    decent people at their best.

    The meaning of life is so apparent.
    I hope you saw it and kept a hold.
    Because what I saw
    still floats beside me.
    With hindsight..
    On new beginnings, I am sold.


    Victoria Stokoe
    28th December 2020
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 3w

    New year Zoom

    Feel the warmth of your fired eyes,
    the glaze of merry in your slipper socks as window snow falls like cotton down,
    softly on the cold night.
    Fear not the ringing of the bells,
    for it is the bringing of a new year.
    Fear not the apprehension in your bones,
    they shout to move, to visit, to travel,
    to escape this weary year of solitude.
    To leave behind the doldrums and the tears.

    Embraces the echoes of ones we hold dear.
    They remember how our hair smells in fondness, like yesteryear.
    Spring steps us forward, thoughts of family and friends, the warm sun moving near.
    Black wings of the hollow bird begin to lift.
    Into snow fall she migrates from all of this.
    You smile on zoom, it's been a good friend.
    Silly screenshots we all need to send.
    Goodbye. Yet I'll never forget you 2020.
    The darkness starts to shift..
    22nd December 2020
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 4w

    Scribbles

    The inner workings
    of my mind
    are corrected,
    perfectly refined.
    Last date edit
    is all you can find.
    No process.
    No frustration
    or doodles,
    wasting time.
    No crossing out.
    No variant verse.
    My phone is a book
    without a jacket
    or a spine.
    I've gone too digital,
    I create with ease.
    The notes I may jot,
    no one ever sees.
    My poem after this,
    will be raw with the salt.
    An altered structure,
    pen and pencil
    but oh so perfect
    with all its faults.
    Victoria Stokoe
    19th December 2020
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 4w

    Placebo

    I don't want to play
    in this feverish metaphor.
    Hearts of gold are not that,
    I'd shared my bones
    keeping limbs not to fall.
    Melting to the moulds
    and shared sparsely
    between forgiven.
    You crept from hell,
    I smell the burning
    under your shawl.
    You have your coins.
    One dropped by a devil,
    sinned or sinning
    doesn't make you wiser,
    we know that you stole.
    There's no replay,
    second chances.
    Aftermath,
    sneering glances.
    Molten lead trickles.
    The layers of gilt
    fool the foolish.
    A placebo, like your soul.
    18th December 2020
    ©victoriastokoe

  • victoriastokoe 5w

    Institution~
    2 weeks notice


    For this is
    the absence of
    my soul.
    For this is..
    Darkness.

    That reaches
    behind my back,
    flanked, rank beings
    crass with hate.
    Try to shape me
    to their mould.

    Eternal isn't this,
    where light flickers
    one dot of sanctity,
    reasons in a dart.
    A piercing spark.

    I'm awake with a
    stark headspace,
    anxious to
    vastness on a
    blank page.
    A random pinpoint
    to a start.

    Ageless in thoughts
    I withered to oldness
    here, beats lessen
    in headlights
    to fresh beginnings.
    It took my heart I fear.

    I'm frozen on a map,
    grid reference only here.
    What I've become in
    negativity is not me,
    ironic a pandemic
    brought me back
    from asystole and
    feeling numb.

    Shock truths that
    loyalty isn't the
    golden timepiece,
    the badge of honour,
    we all succumb..

    A deep down feeling,
    when your soul is
    almost bared,
    keep it secret, as
    no one really cares.
    ©victoriastokoe
    13~12~2020