Standing still atop of the mountain I look out and see the golden sun setting on the distant horizon

A quiet descends and the light begins to fade

There’s a chill in the air and the leaves on the trees start to rustle in the breeze

There is calm, there is peace

This is a happy place, a place where I feel better when I am here

My Mountain of Solace

Ice for blood

Free the whispered

Judgement of words

I am myself

Rain needle sharp

Upon my face

Back to wall.

I stand tall.

Wind through hair

Decision and equivocation

Denied their say.

As I play.

Sun warmed bones

Gentle smiling eyes

Timid loving silence.

I am content.

Strong black coffee, four sugars please.

A bright knife edge winter`s day.

Bacon on breath, rind in teeth.

Trees sweating, hoar-frost gleaming,

Fog breath smoking, hands freezing,

Engine screaming, sunlight streaming.

Christ but it`s good to be alive.

Caress some chords – Like a lover needs another to belong

I melt into magical mysteries of song

Lose dubiety – surrender to serenades of serendipity

Caress some chords – Like a river needs an ocean to be free

I swim into this cosmic soup of creativity

Make the time to breathe – Inhaling all the flowers and rainbows there can be

Never ending colours of light filled harmonies

Undulating undertones of possibilities

In a sea of sound – where true love abounds

Caress Some Chords with me

Caress Some Chords – Like a sunrise needs a sky in which to sing

I spread my wings and fly through sweetest sounding strings

Shine my love light bright – Dive into the slipstreams of the melodies I find
©2015 Nicola Gladwin (aka Nicci Gladwin)

Knocking out negatives

I am flipping the coin at poison parrots urging me to join

A journey of steep descent into a hostile abyss

The starting point is in my head, colluding with such promises

To keep me safe, to keep me sound, to keep my little light bright

Convincing as they seem right now, I push them out of sight

I flip the coin into their faces

Squawking insults, love erases

Compassion is my key, administrating TLC

Yes, taking loving care of me

Knocking out negatives

I am trusting there’s a way through this

I am thinking outside of the box

Yes, finding diamonds in the rocks

My feeling thoughts I now refine, to manifest my own design

Creativity, our universal key

Knocking out negatives

I flip the coin for me

I colour, I sing, I write

I begin

Knocking out negatives

I choose to be happy now

Within

©2015 Nicola Gladwin (aka Nicci Gladwin)

Pumping veins and screaming fans

Every soul unified by melodies

As we wear every lyric like a tattoo

Grinning as this is why I pulled through

The band, their sound, their love

Became our connection, from down under to up above

As we lived our teenage dream

But days apart singing to our theme

Who would’ve thought that ten years on

We would still talk until one reaches dawn

That our love for the skull and crossbones

Would tie together forever our two time zones

Because I’m happiest when I speak to you

The laughter when you sent me that kangaroo

Knowing that we’re sharing the same smile

To see you again I would run every mile

Joy is the knowledge that soon we’ll get

To share the same sunset

The same air, the same stars

Just like in the beginning with the sound of those guitars

Words can never be enough to express

How much I adore your heart, the talent you possess

Thank you for being online that day

Now let’s watch those dolphins as we sail away

I feel better when I eat butter
I go nuts for pats on garden peas
even though it makes me fatter
I love it on crackers, under cheese

Lauren Foster

Haunts of the Grand Union Canal

Few things bring more calmness than
a wander along the canal;
leaving traffic and cares behind,
getting away from it all.

The weirs gurgle peacefully in the sun,
the ducks splash to and fro;
it’s a gracious time in early Spring,
and a pleasant place to go.

Echo Bridge is an exotic place,
not one echo but many;
the source of its special properties:
it’s shaped as a catenary.

The effect comes as complete surprise,
when one is just walking along;
it’s rare to hear such sound effects,
repeated and oddly strong.

It soars overhead, straddling the canal,
symbol of a glorious past;
it’s brick-built arches represent
old skills not yet surpassed.

Secret Island seems barely alive,
only the ivy seems viable;
and yet, in just a few weeks time,
its paths will be barely passable.

Now its trees seem dead and white,
brittle and devoid of life;
Soon leaves will come bursting forth,
and nettles and briars be rife.

Before, few would have ventured here,
fenced off, locked and defended;
now it’s covered in paths and litter,
its fence no longer mended.

We wander over the island at will,
studying the woodfall as it crumbles;
this small canal-bound islet,
rare remnant of English jungle.

We make our way back as the light is fading,
past joggers, geese and swans;
we’ve had a pleasant day of rambling,
aimlessly hither and yon.

I feel better when I am gently allowing my emotions and feelings to flow
I feel better when I am trusting that they will naturally just come and just go
I feel better when I reassure myself that’s it’s okay to feel mad sad or low
And to sometimes know what that’s telling me, and for sometimes not to know

I feel better when I am listening to my body and what she really needs.
As her wisdom quietly talks to me, despite the poison I feed
I feel better knowing her needs are simple; rest, food, movement and touch
I feel better as I appreciate how she’s carried me, never asking for much

I feel better when I give myself a break and just let myself be me
When I stop striving for perfection, and allow ‘good enough’ to free me
I feel better when I finally notice your love and allow myself to receive it
When you say that I am okay for the thousandth time, and I this time I finally believe it

I feel better when I am allowing my words to soothe and heal the hurts of others
Who are wounded by the world of lost loves and imperfect fathers and mothers
I feel better when I am smiling as my own advice is the hardest to follow
As my once- wise words stick in my throat and I don’t even try to swallow

I feel better when I remember to notice all the bright and beautiful things
And to marvel and thank goodness for the wonders that each new day brings
I feel better when I remember that forgetting these things is human nature after all
If I want to see the beautiful sunrise, I must allow the nightfall

I feel better when I accept my thoughts and feelings as they are
Without trying to paint a rainbow over my bloody scars
I feel better when I embrace my wounds as part of the imperfect me
I feel better when I am being myself, and allowing the world to see me

I feel better when I am accepting that I do care what other people think
When I spit the bile of indignant independence finally down the sink
I feel better when I allow myself to feel the need to be loved and to belong
And recognise that we all need this and that it is not wrong

I feel better when I laugh until I cry, with friends who love me unconditionally.
I feel better when I see the humour of it all but know that the joke isn’t on me
I feel better when I do stuff just for fun and let myself have a silly season
I feel better when I just to enjoy myself-I don’t have to give any reason

I feel better when I am just sitting and watching my mind do her thing
I feel better when I am just breathing and listening to the wisdom within
I feel better when I switch off the screens and let my eyes see the real reality
I feel better when I am accepting our world for all its love and cruelty

I feel better when I create my own world through a poem, a song or a dream
I feel better when I express myself even if some people don’t know what I mean
I feel better when I am making a stand for a world that I know can be better
I feel better when we are all making a stand and helping each other feel better

It’s ok to walk alone,
You don’t have to hold their hand,
Drag them through unhappiness,
‘Cause you don’t want to stand.

Let them be and ponder.
They may catch you up.
You, alone, can wander
And learn to give them up.

The first 9 stretch out from the wand

Each one, plum sized, quivering gently

Propelled on a gentle mid-June breeze

moving randomly across suburban scenery

I take my time with the next blow

A pair of oranges, rainbow smeared

each one holding a reflected me

One glides away, doomed from the start

the other, disappears against a cotton sleeve

Blowing as if flickering a candle flame

I produce 28 gooseberries that saunter off like bees

Some mark the bark, some glisten the leaves

and the last few assail and escape over the trees

I try out my next trick and conjure 2 apples

fused as a conjoined twin

This double-bubble hovers and shimmers

waiting for me, but it’s a booby trapped globe, exploding

causing shrieks of glee

I contemplate producing a grapefruit

When a tug on my arm, small outstretched hand

other resting on a hip, disarms me begrudgingly

I hand over the bottle with a sheepish grin

and the soapy coated, orange plastic, dipping stick.

I feel better when feeling better is not my priority,

But instead comes as a surprise,

A new avenue for my curiosity,

And all the adventure that it implies,

There are times that I feel I cannot breathe,

That I feel better when I am not me,

We all have bodies that our minds can leave,

And I feel better when I am free,

For what good is feeling good if you dwell only on feeling better?

Happiness is in its own pursuit,

It’s when I don’t, that I can feel better,

It’s when I’m not, that I treasure feeling good,

Yes, I feel better when I am free,

To see,

To feel,

And to be.

If hope really is the thing with feathers
then joy must be the thing with wings, that lifts
you up over your life, free, untethered,
to see a world others can’t. High on drifts

of cool air, you fly, glide, dive and hover-
you are weightless, ageless, playing a game,
collecting sun memories like nectar.
Joy comes uncalled, it doesn’t know its name.

It appears sometimes when you’re least ready
an uninvited guest at your table
feeding you morsels of brown bread
to build you up. Joy says;  you are able

to be yourself, whatever that is,
no restrictions, no judgement, no limits.

I feel better when I am talking to my best friend.

He is always there for me,

Whatever it may be.

If I am feeling down, he will listen to me,

Lend a shoulder to lean on.

Even when I don’t have faith in myself,

That I will not get better, he does.

Kyle says, “It will be okay. It will get better.”

He is always there for me,

Whatever it may be.

Depression is not an easy thing to talk about.

But with Kyle, I can be open and honest.

His support is what counts.

I don’t have to hold anything back.

Kyle has been my rock for a long time,

But the same can’t be said for that family of mine.

I honestly don’t know what I would do without him.

He is the reason why I am still alive and will always be a friend of mine.

Kyle is not just any old friend but my best friend.

He is the reason why I am trying to get on the mend

So I can be his friend, his support, while he recovers with his own mental health.

Kyle may not be with me, right here, right now,

But his support is all that matters.

Sabeela

I feel better when I am

By Chelsea foster

Imagine a flower, fearful of the night

Covering up its beauty due to absence of a light

Much like a flower, we tend to hide away

To long to feel better is where we’d hope to stay

And though a flower lacks a heart, our similarities still remain

Though our strongest difference remains in these feelings we can change.

I feel better when I am sleeping, or should I say within my dreams

The place where I go, because nothing is as it seems

I feel better when I am drawing

Like a constant creation of ideas

Such a comfort through expression

That I hope to last for years

There’s many ways and many paths

That one can wish to take

To create a shine within your smile

And feelings afar from fake

I feel better when I see his face,

A friend could not compare

To the emotions that overflow my mind

When I know that someone cares

I feel better when it’s raining

The outside path is lit with light

A place to perfect for one dance,

It would have to last all night

I feel better when I’m on the beach

Or anywhere that’s far away

To take a trip to somewhere new

Is where I’d wish to stay

But not long till I’ve had my joy

From wherever I may Rome

I’ll pack my bags and head on back,

I feel better when I’m at home,

I feel better when I find that glow,

The one that’s all around

The glow that shines with in his eyes,

As the rain crashes to the ground

The shine within that brand new paint

As though unleashed from a darkened dome

That gleam from being somewhere far

Or somewhere close to home

Hidden within the glistening night

Or at the end of that dark tunnel

Even beneath the darkest streams

Or flowing along the runnel

I’ve seen this glow in many places

So I’m certain it can be found

Though it’s hard to grasp its glow

I promise it’s all around

And though it can be hard to find

And darkness hard to fight

Just like the little flower

I feel better when I aim to find the light.

Arts in mental health,
BrightSparks presents…
Writing on the Wall:
Attenborough welcomes you all,
colourful paintings on 1st floor,
different paintings express their feelings,
show how they’re dealing.
Their hard work shows the challenge;
this is their weapon to escape.
Easel works as armour.
Brushes work as swords.
Colour shows the anger and love.
Colour speaks, all languages.

Rhythm of the music is pure and divine.
It remains in you and me. Helps to make some peace.
The tabla gets battered but gives you pleasure –
Dha dhin dhin dha dha dhin dha
dha tin tin ta tak dhin dhin dha.
That’s the language but for me it’s my treasure.
Musical instruments are gifts from God
through which we connect to ourselves, each other.

*

Repetition of hand movements
create the fascinating sound of the Tabla,
put mind at ease and pause in thoughts,
help calm me down and know myself.
Powerful beats of Tabla piercing through,
connecting ear with heart and soul.
The battle inside stops for a while
giving me the pleasure of winning.
I rise from the feeling of being small
and I roar like a lion,
accept all the challenges.

I feel better when the sun is shining, especially upon my face

or when I watch my daughter, proudly win a race.

When I’m surrounded by nature and all it’s wonderous’ awe

it helps me to feel grounded, it’s real and rugged and raw.

When music’s playing, who wrote or sang it, I really do not mind

If I can dance and sing along, it helps me to unwind.

When those closest to me, gather together and celebrate

our dreams, memories and friendships, until the next time I happily wait.

When receiving a smile, a hug, a gesture of thanks

It allows me to feel acknowledged, instead of drawing blanks.

These are some feel good factors, I share with you today,

I hope they may inspire you, to look for your special moments, help you on your way.

The stars are visible even at dawn.

I breathe the scents of morning dew,

stretch my arms wide open.

My red trainers are worn-out

but a new smile gleams on my face.

Forget the race of life, I run at my own pace.

I kick the pain away

like an empty can.

The breeze strokes my cheeks

My lungs expand…

I listen to the chirping of sparrows,

forget the static noise in my earphones.

I let my heartbeat slow down

under the graceful gliding of petals

from a cherry blossom tree.

Soon I feel the sunlight on my back,

your tap on my shoulder.

I Feel Better When

I feel better when I am watching for spring

Daffodils open and make my heart sing.

I feel better when writing beautiful words

Inspired by nature filled with returning birds.

I feel better when I am painting a glorious sky

The sunset has colours to make the spirit fly high.

I feel better when I am grateful for simple things

Each day has a moment touched by angelic wings.

I feel better if I take a walk in a wood

There is something about green that makes me feel good.

I feel better when I think of the natural world

Where flora and fauna are free and unfurled.

.

CAR

Saturday first of June 2013,
my car sat in a shadow
waiting for me.
Ten o’clock in the morning, hot
I strutted toward the car,
remote control in hand,
click, lights flash,
doors open smooth
as a brush through hair.
I get in the car,
my knees’ feel the strain.
I’m getting old,
I’m moaning again.
Keys in the barrel,
ignition on,
on goes the stereo
and I’m singing the song
as the tunes flow out of the speakers.
It was a hot kind of day,
the air-con was flowing
as the engine purred like a cat.
It’s a tiger.
It’s a jungle.
Into gear and off and away,
Nottingham the destination that day.
I go through the gears,
up and down,
rude boy style
through the town
windows down,
arm resting sweet,
I’m King of the street.
So out of the town
and into the sticks,
pedal to the metal,
I smell green and yellow fields
and think of summers gone by.
Sixty, seventy,
pedal to the metal
running smooth as ice,
the car eats the road
like a crocodile on prey,
the miles come and go away;
the turbo clicks in,
G Force forces my neck into the headrest,
the air-con keeps me cool and collected,
fifth gear is selected
and I’m cruising one hundred an hour,
the field holds the flower
smelling sweet as the rose,
the sun is blazing,
my visor is down,
the cows are grazing.
I’m out of the town.
I see for miles around.
A tractor stops me on cruise –
which gear do I choose?
I ain’t got time to play today,
I slip into third and peel away.
I see the power stations bellowing smoke.
I cough and choke
as I consider the environmental damage.
So urbanism comes into sight,
it’s Nottingham, I hold on tight –
I’ll soon be there at my destination;
my celebration
as the car purrs like a tiger…!

James Mcatear.

*

Ashanti.

I WISH

I wish
I wonder
I flip the coin
And then it lands asunder
Knocking at the bumper
I fear the thunder
I feel the rain
I feel the sun rays
The tape records
The CD plays
I play football
Honest work pays
I pray and pray and pray and pray
Nothing stops me
Nobody says
The sun is yellow
The clouds are grey
I’m here today
I’m here tomorrow
I feel the pain
Subside the sorrow
Lend me an ear
And hear my song
I try to do right
And not to do wrong
Death is short
Life is long
Resurrecting the thoughts
Of a love once known
Blown
Out of proportion
I’ve had my caution
I fall like leaves in Autumn
Only to begin again
My dear old friend
My dear old pal
Nothing gets the best of me
and only God shall
Ruler of creation.

Ashanti.

*

Bruce Lee

Bruce Lee knocks on my front door.
He was all in white.
The angel said, Carlton
I’ve come to bring you some precision
in your training. Carlton, Carlton
I’ve been watching you in your living room,
you have my powers.
So he came in and sat down
and we practiced together.
We worked on precision
and prayers together
We worked on coordination
control and meditation.
I said, Bruce Lee
there are lots of things
I’d love to ask
but a warrior never knows
when it’s done.

MC Major Sass

*

MC Pinball

ME AND MY PAINTING

Morning and night,
Sleep and wake,
I will work because of your love,
Finding your love I become manic and crazy,
So I will shout your love
And say to people:
‘I find God in the colour of my paintbrush.’
I find love
So from this love
I become a bud
and I grow and blossom into a flower,
I change colour,
I become flesh,
I’m not wanted so I become free
And I’m free with your love
And I become happy, happy, happy…

Mohammed King Amir

I FEEL BETTER.

I was a lonely breaking heart,
Find me
And love me,
I’ve become crazy with your love
An artist with your love,
The sketches are here but my heart is there.
What can I paint?
I’m an artist with bipolar,
I find you in my paintings,
I find you in the colour of the blue sky,
Power of the yellow,
Compassion of the red,
I sleep in the dark black
And the white becomes brighter.
God, I see you in the paintings of the small fish,
I become crazy and I lose consciousness,
Shout ‘Love!’
For the whole world and nations
Because the power of art and love is for all.
We need to see.

Mohammed King Amir

*

Turntable love

12inch dub plates
Drum n bass rock
Hardcore sounds
Warm deep smooth
10inch press 7inch
Reggae mix n blend
Black vinyl Magic
Ride the groove
Set speed, drop music
not bombs
Spinning pitch shift
Stop start
slow down
Praise the decks
Bless the decks
Turntable love.

MC AtmosFeare

*

SWIMMING OUT TO THE ROCK

I AWOKE FEELING READY TO GO – GIVE IT THE LARGE, SWIM OUT TO DE ROCK. IT WAS SUNNY MORNING WITH A NICE BREEZE, GAVE ME THE FEELING OF OOH U KNOW, IT CAN BE MY DAY. ANYHOW, MUM WAS WASHING CLOTHES AS USUAL. KWIK BREKKY THEN GT A TRANS TO THE BEACH. YEAH MAN, ARRIVAL WAS GOOD AND THE BEACH WAS QUIET. EARLY MORNING STYLEE. ANYWAY I WAS UP FOR IT, IN OTHER WORDS. GOT CHANGED AND PUT ONE FT IN AFTA THE OTHER IN THE TEPID BLUE COLOURED WATER, NATURALLY. SWIMMING OUT TO DA ROCK STROKE BY STROKE GIVING MY BODY A NECESSARY WORK OUT. FLOATING OUT YONDA DISTANCE, HEARING THE HOOTERS OF BOATS BIG AND SMALL AND DE EARLY FISHERMEN AWAITING A CATCH. BOATS COMING INTO THE HARBOUR WITH HOLIDAY MAKERS LOOKING ONWARDS. MY EXPERIENCE TO DE ROCK WAS LIKE HAVIN A LYME N NJOYN MA SKIN, PEACE.

IAN LIBURD.

CHARITY SHOPS

Bargains galore,
items for sale,
Armani suits,
dat small like Lenore,
T-Shirts 75p each,
almost free.
Books of cooks,
novels, children’s stories,
meltdown costs.
Ties and looks
to mek de guys and girls cry,
take a break peepz,
some may say and sigh,
peepz get refunds if desired.
Tanx bye:
Have a nice day.

IAN LIBURD.

I feel better when I am in harmony with the world around me,

When I share a smile with a stranger and see it reflected back,

When that smile may then be shared and passed on to others like ripples on a lake,

I feel more alive when I share a kind word with another or listening when they need to be heard

When together laughter is made and becomes contagious to all around us,

When a kind gesture makes someone else’ day.

I feel better with kindness and forgiveness in my heart

When contentment and fulfilment comes from within

I do not need material things to make me feel better

I only need to see others feel at peace and share in their moments of joy.

Making friends with snow

You were never my enemy.

You were an emotion to learn,

water frozen that slows down the pulse.

A memory of you is fun.

The cold wetness of you

in small wellington boots,

soggy mittens, red noses and hands

that took hours to thaw.

A memory of you is white fields

of newness that encompassed

the thrill inside the house.

How you wrapped us up deep

behind window ledges and doors

making it impossible to leave.

It`s the years one after another

the constant changes you bring,

sometimes with a lingering embrace,

other years some of us never see you.

But I love it when you freeze the gardens

and make a mockery of life; how you blockade

daily routines and numb our brains

with silly notions about driving over

and out of sight of you.

I remember that one time when I locked

myself out with just slippers on my feet.

How you saturated my toes with cold water,

like a cosy friend, how I could feel you

all over my skin.

Paper Plane

I sit under the shade of velvet leaves,

pale tint of orange pours over the field.

Lately I have been finding fresh shoots

amongst the withering wildflowers of the past.

I have written a farewell letter to my Pain

and folded it like a blanket. Even if I am uncertain

like the crumpled laughter of the river

I must go straight ahead…

The velvet leaves rustle. The patches of light

dancing on my face somehow make me smile.

My paper plane drifts further and further –

sharp nose towards the burning edges of the clouds.

I feel better when I am.

When I am here.

When I just be.

When I can see my own true worth,

and that of everyone on earth,

is not to do with tasks or goals,

but just because we are.

The Cresswell Arms reach further than the bar

where local ale slips down the gullet easily,

where rejuvenation lingers in the landlord`s eyes.

On the old quayside the pub benches host families

and teenagers, buckets of water and captured crabs.

The kids dangle long lines of wriggling bait over

the sharp drop, their faces full of the hunt.

The tide is out and the reed beds sing an aria

in the jet stream. Old oaks rustle in the ruins

of the ancient manor`s mortar, and the forested

hillside plays a drum beat, echoes from a tribal camp

of young things finding their feet.

Down in the mud flats the Cresswell moves in its little swell,

and waits for another flood. The stepping stones are baked dry

in today`s hot sun as many shoed and naked feet walk and run

to its other marshy shore.

Today I make

a salad–

The red flesh of tomato

gives way to the blade;

The moisture of

cucumber;

The crunch of

yellow pepper–

a spurt of flavour;

The lettuce–

sculpted,

cut,

bounces back.

I cry at its life,

its beauty,

its availability to me.

To me!

Today I see God.

The sky is big in Wiltshire.

The buildings fall away

the eye adjusting to

a wider landscape.

It does us good:

we expand our vision.

We let nature breathe in us –

touching maybe joy,

maybe sadness, but

touching.

It does us good:

we feel our feelings.

The Wiltshire Downs are

big enough to hold us.

It does us good:

let us be held.

Drudging for dwarves

is much overrated, thinks Snow White.

Tedious little ones who expect me
to do it all. And as for waiting for a prince
to bail me out (and wash his socks),
I really don’t think so.
I don’t like this story.

Forget the Prince!
Delete the Dwarves!

I’m going to dance in fountains
drink champagne and eat sweet peaches
climb high mountains
laze on beaches
drive fast cars.
whiz down slopes of stars.

Away with the Fairies

I hear the trees talk every day.
Red leaves flutter in the wind
tongues that chatter, natter, sigh.

Trees don’t speak our language.
Their words are felt not heard.

A bright warmth below the ribs
A gladness in the heart.

What it is

It is lemon light tilting past lime-green leaves;

aromas of cut grass, hawthorn, and warm gorse;

elderflower wine shoaling brightly round gums, then bursting sharp and sweet;

the high-pitched tinkling of newly-washed hair;

faint fluty notes on the wind.

It is gently buoyant curls on nape;

a lilting ski-jump of a nose;

feet and brows tending towards arching;

arms floating up and out, unbidden.

It is a lightening under the sternum,

soft breath lifting and sinking through fontanelle,

and an inner shifting, settling, down to earth.

A level kind of readiness.

And then there is a lengthening

and a heightening

and a  s o a r i n g  about it, like leaping off a swing mid-flight;

a reaching about it

and a welcome:

the redly spreading grin of dawn,

or the frank smile of the new moon.

I feel better when i,m

In a pair of willies, jumping like a zebra in puddles of silver.

In a pair of gloves mismatched and bright, waving at the people on the bus

In a pair of stripy socks, that make my toes look like multicoloured waves

In a pair of shorts, up to my knees at the seaside looking for shells

In a pair of new shoes, shiny and make me want to waggle my feet on a bench.

In a pair of sunglasses, because the sun is shining so bright

In a pair of arms; because a hug is the best feeling in the world.

I feel better when i,m

Chocolate chipped and swirlywirly curled into folds of warm smooth sunshine.

Scooped and plated; presented and placated; lawn lazing; summer dazing.

Floral sweet flavours drift past through hazes.

Velvet kisses from summer breezes, buzzing sounds from the beezees.

Cat stretching toes, and yawning sighs; wrapped up in the garden as the world passes by.

I feel better when I am….

Strolling under a blue sky, the force of a Spring wind clearing away the clouds and bending the sturdy branches as they go with the flow. Birds soaring in the wind as they enjoy the uplifting drafts, going where it takes them as they glide majestically without a care in the world, from the largest to the tiniest of airborne creatures.

I feel better when I am….

Walking on a sun soaked Summer afternoon, the strength of the sun beating down, gazing upon the fruit laden trees radiant in colour, the green leaves vying for attention, the lushness of abundant green grass, bloom laden borders radiant in multitudes of colour and the buzz of bees flitting from one pollen laden flower to another tasting of their goodness. The overwhelming smell of freshly cut grass, the gentle hum of mowers at their work.

I feel better when I am….

Stepping out in soft pattering rain, enjoying the freshness of Autumn buffeted by a gentle breeze. Admiring the naked trees against a cloud filled sky as they sway gently to its rhythm as if orchestrated by an unseen hand. Anticipating the buzz of friendly chatter exchanging our view and telling our news, the clink of wine glasses filled with red or white wine, breathing in the succulent smell of mulling wine. The closeness of fellowship, the hug of a loved one, gentle kiss of a child or passion of one close.

I feel better when I am….

Striding briskly on a moonlit Winter night, with the brightness of the moon and the glory of the stars above, the crispness of a frosty evening the crunch of fresh snow underfoot and the beauty of its glistening virgin whiteness. The drifting smoke from the chimneys and the pleasing smell of logs burning in the grate. The thought of toasted teacakes and a steaming mug of hot chocolate upon my return.

I feel better when I am….

See children playing in the park, the laughter in freedom of playfulness, happiness of a smile and the innocence of childhood. Watchful parents protecting from afar, hearing the giggles with pride, ever observant with care. Dogs being walked, kept on a leash as they gently bark at a stranger but not going near, the nod of the owner as a gesture of part of the club.

I feel better when I am….

See creatures great and small, scurrying or plodding the high and the mighty. The elephant or mouse all made so unique. From continents near and continents afar, I look upon nature with pleasure and awe. The variety of nature all around the world, each suited to climates with beauty and care.  The power of sea as waves come crashing in, the white foam of fury riding atop. So filled with creatures of all sizes and shapes. Of life in abundance, some edible some not, some full of danger but others of beauty.

I feel better when I am….

Enjoying home comforts, with family around, the smell of fresh bread or bacon and egg. The thoughts of a dinner, roast beef with lashings of gravy. Potatoes roasted crisp, parsnips and carrots, Yorkshires of course to make it complete. To finish it off I look forward with glee to a bread and butter pudding made just for me. Then there is the sound we all love as the trifle is eased, a gulp of the jelly as from bowl it is teased.

I feel better when I am….

At peace with myself, fully and clearly, purpose within. I know who I am and to where I belong, my destiny assured security and harmony. A life filled with purpose of living the truth, my journey assured by my comfort within. An inner truth deep in my heart, knowing what ever may come, it will never depart. As I reflect on my story, my life almost gone, enjoying my memories and all that I am. Surrounded by family, friends as well, the big picture so clear of that I can tell. So I feel better when I recall who I am

RAINBOW

Red berries

Smile

Beside storm-curdled mud-drifts;

Birds pecking land and worms back from fenced waterfields.

Russet brown and orange – requiem saw shavings

From the old tree brought down across the pavement.

Only a livid stump remains

In its allocated earthbreak;

Its sentinel centuries

Blown

Dust.

But

Marigold flowers

Humbly swarm to warm the bottom of a gate post,

And the yellowing green of new catkins

Hangs a promise above greying ghosts;

Shade-slumbering old man’s beard

Tangles winter’s last legacy into a hedge,

Bequeathing tufts, but only here and there,

To the blinking blue sky.

Down the road,

Indigo grasses have been newly planted in proud garden pots,

Whilst crocuses sprinkle the park;

Violet,

Like the memory

Of lavender

In brush-dry broken branches

Piled ready for burning,

Now colour has come back to us.

I feel better when I’m with friends,
out and about, seeing the sights.
I like a turn round the park,
on warm summer nights –
or on any day, really.

I feel worse when I just sit thinking,
so I try to get out every day.
Even if it’s raining,
that won’t block my way.

Fresh air and light and company,
are my simple strategy,
to send the blues away.

I feel better when I’m covered in paint,

I’m absorbed , in the flow , creating and relaxing,

Nothing else is more important in that moment in that place in time,

Each brush stroke heals , each brush stroke calms , each brush stroke creates part of a bigger picture.

I feel better when my sewing box full of threads calls me to stitch, each stitch adds to a tapestry of relaxation, of distraction and I am lost in its beauty.

I feel better when a block of clay is handled , rolled , carved , remoulded and built into a sculpture , the feel , the texture not knowing what will develop , who cares , who knows , it is formed, I am calm , at peace and alive.

I feel better when I print , objects I have found become tools , treasure almost in adding life to that blank piece of paper – print yes, add colour yes, add more and see,  who worries  what appears, I am absorbed, inspired ,so simple but a meditation in progress.

I feel better when all that junk, rubbish for some becomes art, old cardboard , tape , bottle tops and donated beads and odds and ends in themselves become my masterpiece, my medication, my art , my art on prescription even.

I now feel better as armed with the tools of my trade I can help others to create, relax , be at peace during those bleak dark moments, to come together, be in the artistic zone of creativity, to inspire and motivate , to encourage and support  the process, to see the joy and enthusiasm, helping others to achieve their true potential.

I feel better knowing art can heal, I feel better knowing I can help to make a difference, I feel better knowing I have my art tool box of recovery.

I feel better….When I am Writing, and the words flow, creativity sparks new growth within me, like new shoots of life.

Laughing,

I Talk with best friends and my family.

I am Thankful. Living each day on its own merits.

Generous to myself, my fragile nature is cocooned in

Kindness and wellbeing.

Looking after myself; allowing myself; being at peace with myself; I feel better.

I feel better when I’m tucked up in bed
And drift off to sleep with eyelids like led
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

I feel better when I awake
To hear birdsong as the dawn breaks
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

I feel better when I’ve had my first caffeine kiss
The first cup of coffee is bliss
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

I feel better when the sun’s on my face
And feel the golden warmth of the sun’s rays
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

I feel better when I see the green shoots
Of recovering plants growing up from the roots
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

I feel better when I smell clean clothes
On the washing line – where the wind blows
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

I feel better when I’ve a pen in my hand
Compose lyrics – be my own one man band
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

I feel better when I have got
Lost in a book or film and its plot
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

I feel better when I have solved
A problem which takes some resolve
But I’m happiest when I’m with you

Yes I’m happiest when I’m with you
Because of your unconditional love
And all your kisses and all your big hugs
I’m happiest when I’m with you
With you by my side I’ll pull through….

I feel a flight of fancy
And want to carry you away
Out of a world of despair
Into a beautiful day

Where you smile and you laugh as you should do
And the sun and the sky light your face
So that fields of misfortune forget you
And there’s no misery in this place

Jagged edges in life which have hurt you
Where you feel yourself start to cry
I’ve been there before and I’ve felt this
So let me dry that tear in your eye

I’m nought but the dreamer I’ll grant you
But dreams are the things you deserve
If you wake with a smile in the morning
Well, then the purpose is served.

Strictus

Sitting with ocean,

watching creation, I am reduced.

Simmered.

Shorelines are swallowed by

metronome repetition.

Precision absorbed by time,

I am myself.

Cascading rhythms rise and fall,

distance counting of a storm,

I wait with goose bumped skin,

eyes shut.

I drift.

Far from the numbers in my head.

Nature has no words, no lessons.

It plays out its existence on auto tune.

I create stories,

the gathering crest has no need for them.

I am unbound, free to explore,

all rules and segmented time,

banished.

Such a small part of this universe,

the slight connection

throws me open.

I am undaunted

by my larger life.

Kodak Moment

Walking through memories

vivid images reconnect

people and places to my past.

I can spend a moment anywhere in the world

without having to take flight

from a busy airport lounge,

times to hold onto and I do.

I learnt to free-fall,

Learnt harnessed thoughts are difficult to untangle,

they prevent new memory

room to move forwards.

Learnt to be present in the moment.

To be, just be.

I feel best when I feel life inside me,

all around me,

rushing through me,

racing towards the next point.

A wind as thick as cream, whipped clouds sprint through the desert sky,

Our lives like sails, wrought tight as currents carry us,

Through centuries our memories, conveyed by this masterful sky,

All bound by atoms, tied together; time’s force,

The ocean in a drop; ancestry in a person, we remain one, united.

As I look towards the heavens, a million faces, from sky’s easel acknowledge me,

All still in the world today, all recycled elements,

It dawns on me, as the sun’s last trail sets to the west,

We are all dead, we are all vibrant, we are infinite.

In a world where gold leafs over age and the beautiful are not damned,

We are but a face on the book of walls.

A portrait of modern society’s making, masking the DNA of our peoples’ past.

When I hear the whistle of the wind, spiking window-panes,

I am reminded, I am not a cog in the machine, but within me, encoded, are millions of faces.

I am reminded that I am. I am infinite.

Quietening the many voices of persona, nature’s raw essence acts as inspiration.

Listening to a warbler, sweet summer days abound.

My mind is released and free from worry,

This sense of being, at oneness, not needing to connect the sentences.

This is me. I am. One. Infinite.

When the wind catches me,

like a billowing sail-boat,

All of my cells, pack in close,

Skin pricks with bitter cold zest,

As a gust sees the sun’s close to the west.

In cold comfort I know,

with each bellow and blow,

the molecules of air are there.

Carrying me through life, through time,

I am supported by your eyes in mine.

As the whistle of the wind sharpens my wit,

the molecules; past and present life, overlap and fit,

they show me the wide open skies,

of possibility and unyielding hope when one tries.

An infinity of cycles is the tear-joyed cry,

when life seemed closed and I could but sigh.

A vibrancy of life, every era and now I,

We are one. I am me. I am I.

Out of the blue they tumble, spilling

across the page, shouting, thrilling

to their own songs and sounds, rattling

the gates of convention, battling

to be heard – scattering everywhere

in shapeless masses, in triplets and pairs,

on envelopes and newspaper margins,

on menus, post-its and paper napkins.

A rag-bag of words, a verbal maze,

a couplet or two, a peach of a phrase.

From the chaos of this wordly storm

the semblance of a verse is born,

shy at first, with unsteady feet,

with thoughts and metre incomplete,

with unfit rhymes and erratic style,

with story lines unreconciled.

And it is my pleasure to soothe and nurse

the growing pains of this youthful verse;

lost in the tangles of these troubled lines

I find myself,

free from the tangles of a troubled mind.