i thought the man was friendly
gentle smile with big bright eyes
he nodded in conversation
simple offerings to keep us keen
we found him very interesting
so many stories he had to tell
he talked for what seemed hours
one by one they said goodbye
and then it came to my turn
friends gone just him and me
don't leave me now i like you
we can always talk some more
i thanked him so politely
with urgency picked up my pace
he was unrelenting
and his tone of voice had changed
the fear took hold with filthy hands
i realized what i had done
he shouted loudly - come back bitch
now his pace changed he began to run
my lungs restricted consumed afraid
i can not stop i must not stop
he was old and i was young
and youth thank God saved my life
i made it home unscathed and safe
they did not believe my truth
the stranger hunted for his prey
and the silly girl got away (she was 12)
Both Kate and I enjoy our daily lockdown challenge.
We are similar in may ways and often find it difficult to create something freely without a whole load of critical self judgement and for that, I am really proud of our joint effort and commitment.
It has enabled us both to have an escape route out of our comfort zone.
Why don’t you, try it with a friend or two or even (Kate might holler at me for this) join in with us – eek!!!!
It could be – The Collective Covid Lock Down Daily Challenge.
Think of a word, poem or idea for each other and then send it by text, messenger or email, the night before or early on the morning of the challenge. There is absolutely no pressure to get it done in a day and we don’t move on until we have both completed the immediate task.
Its just for fun and keep’s our mental health wealthy with ideas and motivation.
Yesterday, we came up with the exact same words for task 7 which was interesting-great minds think alike.
I am the light
that lights the day
the melodic song
of the morning
the cooling breath
of a gentle breeze
the essence of
I am the darkness
in the night
the silence and
the hero in
I am the space
between each thought
the whisper in
I am my light
I light my way
my truth is
my joy, my love
shall greet you
I hope that you are enjoying your day best you can.
They say with time things change
such perfect presence
he was not
his expression of life was impenetrable
and yet was
the loveliest Soul
a mind so perilous, tormented by evil
condemned with silent movies
a prisoner before
a prisoner once more
trapped within his own distortion
then meaning became marred
through altered reality
impossible to hide
I can not carry that heaviness
anymore or harness
for it spills from my heart
making me weak
He laid down in quiet demeanor
closed his eyes
knowing it was his last time
He prayed to his God
I don’t normally write poems that rhyme so I’m not too pleased with this one, but a challenge is a challenge so here goes…
who would I be?
why, me of course
I'd be me
I am You
and You are me
together, are we
I can not live
nor can I breathe
nothing to give
My heart is full
and yours is too
a love so strong
a bond so true
I am not whole
and with you
one beautiful Soul
Yesterday, the world seemed different
and yet it was the same
it really was
People walked among each other
unaware, deeply disconnected
Yesterday, there was poverty, war, death
society overwhelmed with mental illness
People lived with one another
unnoticed, deeply, disconnected
Then the world came to a halt
Today feels very different
and yet it's the same world
it really is
we move quietly among each other
having reconnected deeply
Today is better than yesterday was
and this same world, is different
I hope it is
Everybody moves together
and yesterday, is no more
I’ve been to bed, completed my Wim Hoff breathing exercise, got out of bed, meditated, peed three times, face booked, commented on blogs, listened to the cat snore for the past hour and now the hamster is running it’s wheel…
It’s 2.34 am and I’m going to attempt my next writing challenge which has been set as the title of this post.
alone he roamed no place no home an eternal wanderer
clothes were rags his life in bags carrying a heavy heart
stench was bad the jeers so sad yet perfectly polite
people did stare so ugly no care misunderstood by many
a broken story such loss no glory of an English poet
spirit so free in peace I see the most beautiful man
The garden is full of welcomed guests and morning joy.
Birds are flitting here and there and primroses are on parade in their clusters, proudly showing off their beauty.
The sun in all its glory, dances with nature and warms this coming day with its offering of hope and rebirth.
Hope-a feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen.
Rebirth-a period of new life, growth, or activity, a revival.
With a new beginning somewhere in the Universe there has to be an ending.
Its the Yin and Yang of life, the ebb and flow, the Karmic law.
Sadly, I heard on the radio yesterday of an 11 year old boy losing his life to the unseen and silent killer and an overwhelming ton of emotion hit me me like a steam train.
There is a place deep within me where I feel connected to this child and want to reach out to him, hold him and love him just a little bit more… to let him know that he is and always will be loved by millions of others around the world and that his life had meaning.
All lives have meaning.
We are all in this together.
Collectively, we feel the pain his family feels.
I will never know
or see your
can imagine you now
bounding with life-
by your side
the part of you
that is me
that You lived.
May you all have a wonderful day and know how important each and every one ofyou are . I am thankful for us being on this journey together.
An elderly couple that live just a few houses away, have opened up part of their home as a bird sanctuary.
The daily rhapsody of birdsong is loud and varied.
The seagulls sing the loudest and they fly many to their colony, arriving early morning for feeding time.
Wood Pigeons, Black birds, Robins, Blue Tits, Starlings, Magpies and on the odd occasion a vibrant Woodpecker have all stopped by on their way to somewhere else.
I wonder where?
To the left of the garden near the window, leans an old broken fence. Early one morning, last summer, I opened the blinds and caught sight of the most stunning and regal looking creature, resting momentarily on the leaning stand.
I believe it was a Sparrow Hawk and what an honour to be in his presence.
A moment of Grace.
Our eyes met for a second and then he was gone, his wings so powerful lifting him, high into the morning sky.
The grass is rich in colour having enjoyed the endless rainfall and the bush in the corner has bloomed with pink flowers.
I stare at this wall with crumbling stone the hard texture stares back at me I can not see a way through it seems impossible A crack appears a tiny space of light and if I pull each side the stone may fall or at least loosen It seems a mammoth task albeit the strength I think I have my arms are weak my body is tired my mind consumed I close my eyes and imagine a mighty gust a powerful force rising up from the earth and with one fair bash the wall is loosened if I dare to dream the wall may fall
there is a space in between
a quiet place
the stillness is laden with sorrow
the sadness of
what could have been
and the reality of
who am I now
is a question that I ask
on this merry go round of
a fragmented life
am I lost in the stillness
can the sorrow be released
am I bold enough to own my beauty
and serve the sorrow
oh how my playing with words
can free this weary mind
for a while
and breathe life
on to my plain paper
A tenacious Spirit
A joyous moment
The force that stormed through the door was untamed.
He was a mad man.
The man I loved unconditionally and yet feared unlike any other human being alive, arrived with the big black case in hand.
Remember the case?
I froze – engulfed in terror, my mother a couple of feet behind me and to be specific, she stood in the right hand corner at the back of the front room.
I was her shield.
Like it was okay?
The dog was going crazy, barking in a frenzy of confusion running in all directions. He was my father’s dog and very much loved.
The mad man – hair messed, face contorted, eyes wide with RAGE started bellowing at my mother and the only thing I remember is;
“I’m going to kill you.”
and he hurled the big black hard sided case with such force, across the room at Her and as she threw herself out of the way, her screams of begging and pleading went un-noticed by any person outside.
It was a near miss.
Smashing against the wall.
The dreadful volume of noise – shouting – screaming – crying – barking – it was utter chaos.
I can still hear the hysterical cries from her and the fury filled shouting from him – I began pleading with him, begging him to stop, telling him I was scared, using his love for me to try and persuade him to calm down;
“If you love me Dad then please, please stop!”
I was in my very own nightmare and needed help. I couldn’t get him to stop and physically I didn’t have the strength to hold on for much longer. The situation escalated as he kicked the dog out the way and started to push me back and walk in her direction so I threw my arms around him, hugging him, telling him I loved him, sobbing; my feet slipping on the carpet as I pushed back as much as I could.
I tried I really tried hard; I pushed back
and prayed frantically, with speed, in my head to a God that I believed was there.
He was there, wasn’t he?
Then something changed – slowly, he began to calm down and as I held on to him for dear life, he demanded to know where his drugs were. My mother told him as he prized my arms from around him and walked out of the room.
I prayed every day as a child.
For my father –
What is this love this powerful force This energy of love Can strip the volatile naked to reveal a truth not often seen Rage can hide behind love and fear behind the rage Fear is the truth that rage will not speak Love is the gentle dance to heal a broken heart
My daughter was invited last minute, to a sleepover last night.
Driving home after drop off, I could feel the anxiety slowly building inside. Just the thought of staying on my own in the house all night long was enough to set an old, out of date, pattern off – Full swing.
I pulled the blinds and shut the curtains in the whole house; the evening was still so bright.
I shut the doors to the bedrooms, dining room and kitchen leaving a space that felt enclosed and safe.
I live in a bungalow.
I turned the light’s on in the hallway, bathroom, kitchen, dining room, lounge and my bedroom.
They remained on all night.
Unable to open the windows for air, the heat from the summer evening was unbearable so I stripped off naked and stayed that way until 2.55 am having watched 6 parts of “Thirteen Reasons Why.”
Sleep was not an option until I could no longer keep my eyes open.
When I was a child I can remember going through a stage of being very frightened to go to sleep in the dark. My father was strict and there was a ‘no nonsense‘ rule at bedtime“or else!” – after saying our prayers I would wrap myself up in my thick yellow eiderdown, leaving a tiny whole to breathe.
Then I would pray some more.
please forgive me for the sins that I have committed please keep Mummy Daddy Paul and Ashley safe don't let anything happen to them please take this itching down below away thank you
I had the most horrendous internal irritation when I was small. It seems like I endured it for a very long time. I tried with every effort to describe it to my Mother and the Doctor and being so little, neither seemed to understand it or me.
That prayer was recited for many years, well into adulthood. I literally could not; not say it, just incase!
My Mother worked at a local factory five nights a week for 10 years.
I was 3 years old when she started.
All Rights Reserved – The boy in the chip shop 2019
Some years back a story broke in the national news headlines about a little girl that had gone missing. At first it was thought that she may have wandered off with friends when playing outside of her house on her bicycle but after some time it was clear that she had been abducted and murdered. Heartbreakingly, the child knew her abductor and it is believed that she may have gone willingly with him. So very sad…
I awoke early on the morning after the child had been found, heartbroken for the unknown family and mourning on mass with millions… I felt compelled to write a poem.
In a second gone all alone place unknown that moment in time tracks changed moved on. Unrest despair not here nor there no trace no trail the toil recoil. Exhausted confusion depleted emotions shattered withdrawal immersion in sorrow. Crowds praying hearts pleading a nation united same nation weeping searching, searching. Precious child returns to her ‘Source’ arms embracing gentle dancing. In a second gone now spirit reunited. A mother weeps her life torn a soul reborn.
What does it mean to live authentically? What does it really mean?
Recently I joined the world of Instagram after my eldest suggested several times that its the place to be if I want to progress with my online presence. I’ve sluggishly tried to begin re-branding myself; its not working and my posts don’t feel authentic yet what you see is what you get with me and there is no hidden agenda. I feel lacking in what I know I am capable of and if I was really being honest and authentic I would tell people that I struggle on a daily basis with pulling the failure card. I post motivational quotes and pictures on social media about taking action, changing your life, taking responsibility blah de blah de blah… its all bullshit (not the information, the walking my talk part) – whats that all about?
I was reminded that I was 50 today, whilst reading the profile of a young beautiful American life coach who has youth on her side. She oozes confidence, beauty and has an incredible Yogic body that delivered a baby 6 months ago and my self talk went off on a tangent about how stupid I have been over the years with the choices that I made with regards to my health, my career and life in general – the “if only’s” reared their ugly heads again, compiling an internal list of painful self beration.
I don’t think that I have ever been enough, for me.
My internal dialogue works overtime constantly and I often joke with my friend and confidant, that if only she could get inside my mind and hear the crazy self-talk that goes on and on… she laughs and says; “I couldn’t live your life, I’d end up having a mental breakdown.” I am authentic when I spend time with her and feel a deep connection between us as if we have ALWAYS known each other. If there is any truth in the idea of past lives then I believe that we met way before we entered into this life time. There have been many times over the years when I have dropped down into a place of immense pain, no holes barred, just me in my misery and she is the only person who actually understands my madness, really gets me and totally, undeniably accepts me and my authentic self. I am not sure that she will ever truly know or understand her own greatness and her significant place in this world as she too has her own internal battles that allow struggle to prevail at times and she holds herself back. What I know for sure is that she is the most ‘giving’ person that I know, never ever asking for anything in return, especially from me… it doesn’t always serve her as she forgets to give to herself too. I am eternally grateful for her love and acceptence of me just the way I am and want her to know that she brings such joy into my crazy life.