The Battle

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Restless troubles pierce my mind

As an arrow punctures flesh

Thoughts rush like blood from torn skin

The battle has begun

A cruel weakness renders me unable to fight

And the wound begins to hurt

I cry.

I cry in vain

I reach for my armour and clothe myself in recovery

I close my eyes and calmly surrender to the chaos all around

I’ve been at battle before

And I have been the victor

I lie in the midst of the angst

I will not be taken as a casualty

And then serenity

A renewed energy washes over me, like a lifeless body rising from the dust

Wounds heal as quickly as they tore

And although I’ll wear my battle scars for ever more

The White flag is waved

Peace is restored

Butterfly

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Just as the butterfly emerges from a cocoon

So I emerge from recovery

My wings now bright and beautiful

My body now set free

And just as the butterfly dances in the sun kissed sky

I too find joy in expressing my unique creativity

And just as the butterfly finds peace amongst the flowers

I too find serenity in delicate friendships

And just as the butterfly shows magnificence in her transformation

I too feel better when I embrace the changes on life’s journey

And just as the butterfly inspires with her tiny but majestic being

I too discover a gift of gentle inspiration

And I use it to write this poem

Just Do It

Watching birds makes me happy.
I know they don’t care.
They just eat all the seed
Then they take to the air.
But they do me no harm
And I know if I could
Fly away
Just like them
Then I would………..
Well I might…………
Probably wouldn’t really…………
Oh just shut up and feed the birds.

Unique

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I used to think I was different

Now I see I am unique

I have a special place

In the vibrant world we live

I watch the world go by

Each and every morning

All the different people

With their different stories

A unique mind

A unique story

One which I’ll hold

One which I’ve told

One which is mine

And mine alone

I know I’m strong

I’ll keep fighting on

I used to think I was different

Anxiety gripped my mind

Frightened to be myself

I let life pass me by

But now I’ve found some happiness

I thought this could never be

Time heals us somehow

We find a way to break free

A unique mind

A unique story

One which I’ll hold

One which I’ve told

One which is mine

And mine alone

I know I’m strong

I’ll keep fighting on ‘cause we all need understanding

We need the space just to ‘be’

To be heard and tell our story

How we managed to break free

To accept ourselves for who we are

The strength in what we’ve survived

Inspiring others to do the same to hold our heads up high

Outside I Am Free

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Summer drifts by slowly

The sun is yellow and bright Warm weather most days

And the beautiful sky at night Summer turns into Autumn

The leaves turn orange and brown

Crunching the leaves with my boots

On the way to town

Outside I am free

With nature I’m at peace

On my windowsill I plant some tiny seeds of

Rosemary, basil and Thyme Watch them grow over weeks

I watch the clouds floating past

From my windowsill I look over the buildings

See the birds flying low

Outside I am free

With nature I’m at peace

Winter creeps and it’s freezing

The air is damp and cold

I think of all the good times waiting

I let the New Year unfold I wrap up warm in my coat

Go outside today I breathe out frosty air

I know that spring is not far away

Outside I am free With nature I’m at peace

Right Now

I know that I feel nicer when I’ve spicy food inside of me I find that I feel finer when my furry feline fusses me It’s likely I’ll feel lovely if I live and love wholeheartedly I can tell I feel terrific when those troubles aren’t to mind And I kind of feel contented when I’m cosy on my own But I bet I’m even better when I get a letter from a friend. Write soon.

Tuesdays (Connection).

I feel better when I let a regret go; When I make a selection And I choose a direction, And when I find a connection. I feel better when I let a regret go; When I shake preconceptions By overcoming rejection, When I face an objection But they make an exception. And when I find a connection. I feel better when I let a regret go; When I relive a section Of a loved recollection. When I hide my inside, and I’m evading detection, When I see my reflection And embrace imperfection. I feel better when I let a regret go; When there’s garbage collection. (Tuesdays) I feel better when I find a connection.

Say —

Say —

at a bus-stop, waiting on your own,
a day of dulled cloud, almost rain,
your mind tuned to an inner moan
of life being too much grey, again.

And, say, your only company’s
a straggling hedge, a litter bin,
the road’s dirt edge, some scrubby trees,
a cold wind sanding down your skin.

But your eye wanders, say, and there’s
damp holly, leaves like gleaming glass,
wet-bottle-green; its brilliance shares
a flash-light quiver in the grass

so, looking harder, say, you see
a blackbird’s eye, his orange bill
deep in the dandelions, three
fat daisies, one late daffodil

then start to match all this to words,
your own to catch, exact – but how?
the glittering laughter of the birds?
the noise of yellow here and now?

The bus turns up. Your mind’s alive –
making, remaking: words that sway
and dance and shine, and yours to drive
forward and eager. Share them, say?

The Day Fades Away

I feel better when I am awake and it’s dawn not sunset. So the day hasn’t faded and drifted away. As you can never know with my dolly mixture of prescribed pills for the body and mindsets. So a quick coffee mischievously laced with brandy and just one cigarette. This old man has allowed himself to avoid being upset. After medication it’s time for transcendental morning mediation oh to possibly float above the floor,without my body aching or mutter Buddhist mantras, dance Sufi trances,chant Rosicrucian secret practices or maybe Mindfulness: focus on a leaf for a while and find an inner smile. Busy afternoon then dusk : created to call children home and the aged to ruminate and reminisce. Night time comes, so there is the promise of tomorrow! Then I can stamp and smack my worn warm boots in the snow leave my cosmic footprint forever in returning cold. Find some warmth in the fading of the day that has been given and that’s when I feel better when I am ….

I’m better

posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

I feel better when I see your smile

I’m better when I look into your eyes

I’m gratefull I carried you safe inside

Now you are my precious child

I feel better that you give me strength

I’m better when your close to me

I’m gratefull that you give me hope

not much else could compete

I feel better now you make me feel alive

I’m better now your in my life

Gratefull for my beautifull child

I’m better now I’m a mum

This is my strength to carry on

Running Wild

Running Wild.

I feel happy when I look and see …

Flowery meadows and the humming bee.

Snowdrops heralding winters’ demise,

Daffodils golden, grouping in choirs.

Crocus sprinkled like stars in the grass,

Bold coloured Tulips appearing en mass.

Buttercups, Daisies speckling the verge,

Cow-Parsley stretch up, flowers emerge.

Cornflowers gently blowing in the breeze,

Dandelions, grasses prompting a sneeze.

Indigo Linseed and Lavenders glow,

Spiky Hawthorn with it’s blossom like snow.

Wild poppies flourishing in the upturned ground,

All sights inspiring Happy Paintings, I’ve found.

I Am

On a billboard
black shining hair
crisply parted
and bright blue eyes
with a wide smile
shout perfection.
I am not buying it.

On a newscast
dirty brown clouds
explode skywards
vicious killing
heartless maiming
ruthless wrecking.
I am sad and angry.

On a plaza
amongst a crowd
a face shows fear
I point the way
reassured now
he proceeds home.
I am pleased to have helped.

On a third date
linked together
laughing as one
playful teasing
leads to flirting
and future plans.
I am at last in love.

PLAY IN THE STREET

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Once I was a child innocent and complete. I thought world my Oyster my friends and I were the elite. No problems or worries we could not defeat. Secure in the knowledge as we played in our Street. Adventures abound the occasional frown. Spirits so high sad thoughts seldom found. And if there was Spite or a rival to fight, Our anger short lived was gone overnight. Dependable neighbours. greetings cheery and bright. Community spirit friendships held tight. We shared our emotions the highs and the lows. Whatever the weather our doors never closed. Children no longer run in our streets crying with laughter stamping their feet. Children no longer play in our streets. Welcome warm sunny days, smiles sticky with sweets. Children no longer play on our streets.

THE CHILD WHO SANG

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If she could sing Her voice would sound like fledglings On the wing in spring. But her songs are silent butterflies. Her musical wings have been clipped Along with her childhood, Her trust and spirit stolen. Extinguished through fear and betrayal. Occasionally she glimpse her image in a mirror She would mime with a hurt smile, “and the coloured girl’s go, do do do do do do do do do” But behind sad eyes screams a woman’s voice. Her desire paralysed through psychological war fare. In school she sings in unison. Nursery rhymes hymns playtime chants. No one there tells her to shut up. Or to keep secrets In the playground her shadow whispers. Until she reaches her front door. Then Once again the Joy that was song And colourful strings is mute! Injustice became victory & truth one Sunday Kindness touched her soul Acknowledgement gave her liberty As the inaudible screams soared towards the sun The battle was over for….. “and the coloured girl’s go, do do do do do do do do do”