Breaking free

Breaking free

A barbed wire cage of shame imprisons me.
My feathers plucked, jaw cracked, I nurse my sores,
bedraggled, bloodied, gagging to be free.

I feel unclean. Abusers sneer, agree
blame lies with me alone. Support withdraws.
A barbed wire cage of guilt imprisons me.

My fractured wings hang limp. I puke. I pee.
I peck. I squawk. I scratch with sharpened claws,
bedazzled, bloodied, struggling to be free.

Dark deeds denied, dismissed as fantasy,
injustice fuels desire to settle scores.
My barbed wire rage implodes, imprisons me.

Perhaps if this… or that… or they could see
the truth… I bargain, beg, implore just cause,
bedeviled, bloodied, haggling to be free.

I pause… forgive, reclaim autonomy.
I rise on eagles’ wings, my spirit soars
as barbed wire softens, shrinks, releases me.
No grudge or shame, acceptance sets me free.

I feel better when…

I feel better when…

I smell new books, a bonfire, fennel tea;
I hear winds whisper, whistle, murmur, swirl;
I stroke a conch shell, polished ebony;
I see a rosebud ready to unfurl;

I knit a trauma teddy, twiddle-muff;
I play my oboe, scrape its pesky reeds;
I write a sonnet, therapeutic stuff;
I feed my garden robin sunflower seeds;

I find my voice, you empathise with me;
I lose my fear, fight stigma, shun taboo;
we share ideas, campaign for dignity;
you love me for myself, not what I do.

Now still, I know the truth of Abraham,
the everlasting arms. I AM: I am.

Out of the Blue

Out of the Blue

I lay back on the grass
Ponder the past
Tortuous pain
Won’t let the blue mood last

Because from out of the blue
An incredible view
Where the clouds become cliffs
The sky an ocean of blue

And I dream

I dream of holidays
Warm soothing seas
My imaginary place
To escape reality

Colour the mood to a different hue
Cast off the pain
Dive out into the blue
Savour the moment and live again

Come on out of the blue to
An incredible view
Where the clouds become cliffs
The sky an ocean of blue


I feel better when……..
I close my eyes and listen
Absorb each sound I hear
The serenity of nature
My mind begins to clear

The distant hum absorbs me
Entwines me in its peace
The present feels a better place
I feel a slow release

Each creak, each tick, each rustle
Is a magnet to my mind
I listen with a purpose
Distractions left behind

I hear my breath and heart beat
The rhythm of my soul
My body is my temple
And my mind regains control


Mindfulness by Helen Washington

Congratulations Helen!

Mindfulness was chosen for the composition part of the College Music Project
Click here to find out more



I feel better when I see the sun shine in the morning
Cat purring in my ear; dog yawning lazily from a night curled up on the floor
Birds singing loudly perched within the trees
And the traffic outside is quiet as the day for me begins

I smile when the flowers are blooming bright and bold and proud
Dewdrops glistening balancing on leaves
Spiders spinning webs galore, rainbows high above the sky
Butterflies flying, bees buzzing and birds dancing along washing lines

My dog running across the fields on a sunny day makes me smile
Tongue wagging out the side, eyes so wide
Looks like she is laughing as she runs head held high
Leaping across the swaying bushes, tail towards the sky

My granddaughter balancing on her toes trying to reach me
The grin on her face as she greets me
Clapping her hands, singing and dancing
Laughing and giggling, that always makes me smile

So when my heart is heavy and I start to feel down
I think of these things to turn it around
I close my eyes and visualise and
then I feel much better; then my heart begins to smile.


Autumn is a time of many shades
Unending colours of myriads of leaves
Tiny insects find their nests under and between the clusters
Up until the spring appears no knowledge of life will emerge
Merging into the colours of the next years new chapter of life
Never repeating the formation of years before

Spring Time

Songbirds are singing, snow is melting and swallows are nesting
Primroses and Robins and butterfly’s and pansies
Rivers rushing with melted winter snow and rabbits playing.
Icicles melting in the frozen snow
Narcissi, newts and new shoots.
Green grass on hills surrounding babbling brooks and daffodils
Trees, tadpoles and tulips.
Iris flowers around the streams I am lucky to stand here in the midst of them
Marigolds with bright golden heads and mistletoe for wishing, with frost on melting.
Evergreen and the smell of earth as the sun warms the winter crust, every sound and whisper is heard across the countryside fluttering in the new breezes

Mother Natures Daughter, Autumn

Mother nature and her four daughters
Spring, summer, autumn and winter.
Autumn, she sprinkles her colours of red, yellow and brown
And says goodbye to summer
Autumns sweeping brown bears promises of beauty
Under a waning sunlight fast disappearing
She softly patterns falling leaves with her dainty feet
And whispers tales of love to friendly wind
Who has started to whistle and blow
Her mother slowly guides her through natures fields of green and gold
As the urban fox runs and plays with falling leaves, too weak to run and hide
Autumn laughs and waves goodbye to summer

Feel Better

Would you like to touch this magic tree?
It’ll make you feel better.
It’ll take all your worries away,
They’ll never be another grey,
Day full of foreboding, cloudy thoughts,
Fraught, frazzled, scattered brain,
It’ll take away all the pain,
You’ve ever felt,
Stroke it’s leaves and you will melt,
Into a pool of pure, peaceful, radiant bliss,
You’ll forget that haunting last kiss,
That long lost lover you miss.
No more having to put up with all this,
Stress, mess, money less, something to confess,
Tired, lonely, moany, if only, and yes one day,
One day, I’ll be ok.
This tree can take all that away.
But my friend it comes at a cost,
For something you gain, there’s something you’ve lost.
You’ll lose all the backbone that made you strong,
Each vertebrae of lessons learnt, mistakes made and epic failure.
You’ll lose all your memories, the good and the bad.
For your worst moments, sometimes you’re glad.
The cringe, the cry, the heartbreak and the grief,
All make up the pattern of your strongest belief.
That things will get better, that there’s more life to be had.
And that, my friend, can never be bad.
So take this tree, and water its roots.
For beneath the surface is really the fruit,
Your morals, your passion, your life’s ambition,
Water the roots, and your dreams will come to fruition.

Immortal Madness

The pathos of these dolce, ethereal flute notes – enchant me, as too the artistry in my paintings, unattainable prior to the onset of my Furies; Pure, absorbed, all concaving concentration consumes Even amalgamates within my veins… Symbiotically returning me into that all solutionary, Angelic elusive Heaven. Yet the alien extrinsic pressures and irritants of the Underworld, penetrate by means of ambush into my sweet celestial happiness: How do you feel about a Section, Sylvia? The familiar Wards, Sections, Sagas and tablet-time Is my hair manifesting into Medusa’s serpents? Who’s Hades, if I am Persephone? Hypnotism. I revolt, I crumble, I die – Fie! And I hate you with all my anger! That September, I had gorged all the wild berries, Mushrooms and succulent chartreuse leaves. I left my fighting spirit in the Asylum Many years ago, as a child did in another time.


posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

The tree locked in by

Thick encrusted cylindriform bark

Shutting it out from sky, sun shine, moon light.

Rough winds shudder thud and slam against its

Massive woody hulk.

Within tight cytoplasmic cells, membranes surround

Living organisms.

Tissues and DNA

Cramped and clustered with bacterial entities

Huddle and battle for survival.

A smell of urine and bodily materials at its base

Where casual drunks, the homeless and love-struck passers by

Have carelessly left their forensic identities

Slopped out in the ancient cracks and crevices of its skeletal root system

Protruding from the ground in grotesque architectural gestures

Distorted and constrained.

Adults and children play in the dark inner cavity

Spying at the outside world through gaps in

Nature’s perpetual

Entertainment model.

Sunday walkers, youthful gangs and family groups

Shuffle round at certain times and on specific days staring, mumbling,

Blowing smoke from secret cigarettes and joints, hiding,

Contemplate and argue on

the justice and

Injustice of their human state, how they got here and what will happen

When they are finally released.