The Light

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

TABLA

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

My Feel Good Factors

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

Morning Run

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

.

Showcase Smoothie Group Submission

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

 

Sharing Harmony

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

 

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

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

Human being, not human doing

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

Cresswell Quay

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

A Salad

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.

It Does Us Good

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

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.