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.

Standing alone cold and raw
I saw yesterday falling away
From the edges of my mind.
Was that someone elses dream
Or one I,d left behind?
I no longer know nor do I care
For there are new realities to find.
Right now is where I face today
Today is all!
Memories are yesterday,s dreams,
Each one still seen
As we wished it might have been,
Worshipped in a sacred shrine.
Now as I brush the past away
I’ll make each tomorrow mine.

Swallows dive and soar above the beach
Across the sea
Then banking, swoop back to their retreat
In a corner of my balcony.
From there I gaze down to the palm-fringed quay
Listening to bells tinkle
From the top of tapering masts.
Waves nudge the hulls of yachts
Then pass to shore.
Out in the bay the fishermen
Cast their nets and pray.
I stroll along the Avenida De Espana
Basking in November sun,
Pause to admire delicate blue jacaranda
Suspended swaying in the garden
Of the villa Alessandra.
At a bar along the beach
An English paper says that
Rivers back at home are overflowing.
The forecast threatens
That it will soon be showing.
I relax content now it’s done
I’m retired !
Realising my cherished dream
Wintering in the Spanish sun

Earthed

Digging up the dandelions and dock leaves

my mind begins to clear of clutter

so that seeds of inspiration

can start to germinate,

then as I stand and stretch my back

to ease the aching, I notice

ideas like tiny shoots are sprouting

tender, green and full of promise:

some, probably the strongest,

are definitely weeds, but others

bear promise of that heady mix

of beauty and summer’s bounty.

Soaring

On some days

happiness wells up

unexpectedly;

it warms me more

than sunshine

or hot showers, swells

my heart as it pours out

in sparkling torrents

like a skylark’s song

whenever I open

my mouth.

On those rare days

all that limits my

enjoyment of the world

is that I haven’t got

a tail to wag or even

a deep-throated

purr to share,

so I look up

to search the sky

for the flying gratitude

that’s up there somewhere

against the blue,

singing his tiny heart out,

unable to pause

till all the world

has heard his song

and registered

his joy.

It’s grey clouds

piled together,

like a thick, threatening pillow.

And black sky,

burping thunder.

It’s a swarm of youth;

dark hoods and hard tongues

buzzing playfully

like locusts,

Under a willow tree.

It’s sodden grass

under feet

and porridge mud

with thick toffee skin.

It’s the moon above me,

yellow, thick, and throbbing,

like sky’s blister.

It’s rusty chains

and green poles

that creak.

And feet becoming wings

which launch me.

It’s a haunting sky.

Feral hair

whipping rain in lashes

on my face

and falling into thunder

feet first.

It’s leaving earth.

Becoming black clouds

and mist.

And For one moment,

It’s feeling big.

It’s letting go,

It’s jumping.

And landing in a pile of legs

and grazed skin

and smiles.

It’s conquering again

I feel better when I am;

Stress Free

Sitting in the sun

not thinking what to say:

nothing urgent pending:

It is a lovely day.

By Frances Smith

I feel better when I am:

Awaiting the warm rising sun in

the cool end of the night; sweet

singing sparrows, blackbirds and

pigeon owls caress my shoulders

drawing my eyes to the tree tops

dangling in mackerel blue;

Sweet scents; of suckling honey and

lily white jasmine with wafts of dewy

fresh hay like velvet in my nostrils;

fresh love in my lungs igniting the

nucleus of my being with every breath

deeper and deeper into my soul

lighting faith and grace with

joy and energy for life:

Good Morning.

By Frances Smith

Yes to sunset on the sea
Painting a path towards my feet
Sweet as the ocean bathes the sun
We can find a way to love

Thanks for the rhythm and the song
Thanks for the cycle carries on
I’ve got sweet music in my ears
As the moon again appears

Yes to feeling. Yes to pain
I will suffer love again
Sleep on healing wings of peace
Rise with a heart that still believes

There is only this time
And so the cycle carries on
There is nothing but now
I am the rhythm and the song

Yes to children in this world
They don’t know of hate and war
Pray for the gift of lasting innocence
Pray for the bread of love’s endurance

Let my heart give sad lament
When the growing tree is bent
By the winds of man’s ignorance
They don’t know what they’re against

Sing for the souls that we have known
Those who make the skies their home
Thanks for the ones who say I love you
Praise to the One who made us new

There is only this time
And so the cycle carries on
There is nothing but now
I am the rhythm and the song

I bless the morning of my birth
Thanks for the living on this earth
I bless the breath that I have drawn
Thanks for the coming of the dawn

Look to the ones who love me too
Thanks for the old and for the new
For there is nothing but this time
Thanks for the Love that never dies

There is only this time

There is nothing but now

have you ever watched the sea at night?

huge crashing waves leap and tear at the shore,

the moon casts her ghostly sheen

and the waves carve a mean silhouette against the dark

as the world spins

and the ocean swallows your soul.

but in the morning, with the sunrise, there is calm.

the leaping beasts that roared from within

are quiet.

the light bathes the waves with its warmth

easing, soothing

until their cries are the seagulls in the dawn.

Snowed in, 10 feet deep, with a fridge full of food,
Coal and wood a-plenty, five days and nights
of stillness.

Penniless, with the hot sun beating down balmy,
need nothing! Everything – in this moment – is perfect,
priceless freedom.

Alone, without thoughts of the past,
or thoughts for the future, breathing, steadily
free from fear.

I feel better when I am in your protecting arms,
My tears of sadness turn to tears of joy,
And that unspoken bond of love,
Fills our hearts and minds.

I am Accepted; I am Loved; I feel Wanted.

I feel better when my mind ceases the cruel games it plays,
Achieving serenity and peace in meditation.

I thank God for the caring souls of the medical profession,
Who’s diligent and selfless duties,
Strengthen and assure my ongoing recovery.

When the treatment is sound and the medications work,
I’m grateful, I’m thankful,
At last I’m content.

When the darkness of nightmares or the sting of insomnia,
Is lifted, is abated,
Through careful self-help.

So this is how I live,
One day at a time,
I feel better,
With you by my side.

So this is how I live,
Being thankful for life,
Respecting myself; Loving myself; Forgiving mistakes,
Positively Thinking.

And to those who only see the illness; the diagnosis,
I say:
Walk in my shoes, if only for a day,
I hurt like you hurt and bleed like you bleed,
We feel better, when we learn to care for one-another.

Richard Proffitt. 2015.

The earth was dreaming about a moon not yet
born, when I entered its dream as a ghost
with the moon in my eyes in silhouette
held by the creator who joins me to toast
the birth of a new moon that dreams of a
sun collapsing. The earth, moon and sun dream
in unison giving me form, I whistle
forever sounds of fire dying, embers teem,
welding an impulse within the progeny.
Paintings and compositions allude in
multitude to resurrection. Adroitly
the creator completes his masterpiece, herein
a man on a cross. I will bring my progeny
to fruition and amend an impulse eternally.

“I feel better when I am…”

It begs a thousand endings.

The romantic: “…with my beloved”

The practical: “…fed and warm”

The humorous: “…probably not a newt”

The holy: “…struck far reeling by zip-crunch-sting of frost on my feet and night on my teeth and the stars and the stars and the stars and the-“

The start can also be a complete sentence.

“i feel better when i AM”, you see,

when I am me and my self is brewed strong hot and in the world,

when the ghost world (doubting) leaves no worse footsteps then, oh, THEN…

I am.

Do you see?

The me I am

and how much better that feels?

There’s an end tucked in there too.

(after the fretting and restringing)

(the mistaken misshapen missteppings)

(the whithers/ whethers/ whatevers all noise and gasping no i no see)

Therein lies a neat universe, coiled.

There, the sleek contented arrival at journey’s root:

“i FEEL, better, when i am”.

I feel, alive (breathe)

I feel, strong (eat)

I feel, deep (drink)

For one breakout heartbeat, under sky, over earth, I…

I feel… more than Before.

I feel… more than Ever.

(and love)

(Love)

Love

LOVE

Home is where the heart is, they say,

They who are not me or you or anyone we know

Yet I think they got it right, just a little right this time.

Home is where the hearth is, you say, joking,

While the flames lick warm orange around us

And I think there must, there surely must be magic in these slippers.

Home is where the heart’s hearth smoulders.

That space where you curl up, a sleepy comma on my chest,

While I think, “ach there’s no place, there is no place so sweet”

Everything apart from

The kitchen sink
Going home taking what I own
I’ll put my arms around
Whoever I please
My own set of keys
I’ll go out whenever I choose
Won’t make the news
I might go to the offy
Or stay in drinking coffee
You know what’s best for me
So do I
But it’s up to me
It’s actually harder
Being free than inside
And trying to be kind
To the gym to unwind
Find the missing link to rethink
Or to mind to confined

I’ve got to get it off my chest

I tried my best
I did everything that was
Asked of me
I planted trees
I recycled
I learnt about disciples
I went to church
Never left my family
In the lurch
Played cleaned
I redeemed
Why was I treated bad
Was it pay back
Or tit for tat
But now people are
Treating me better
Smiling at me
I’m free
If all is forgiven
I won’t stay in oblivion
One good turn deserves another
These years are no tougher
Chuckling because now were not suffering

The joy that she feels through beings unseen,

So calm and at peace so flawlessly serene.

When life draws the curtains but the light disappears,

Things seem perplexing and in creep the fears.

Wings start to appear though not in physical form,

But in the light of her eyes the beauty after the storm.

The feeling of comfort just by knowing she is near,

The joy that I feel just because you are here.

Secrets

Are you glad to be here on this earthly sphere
Do you gaze at the moon in the galaxy
And wonder sometimes what’s really out there
Why we see stars that are light years away

When you look inside what is it you find
Does nature or magic ignite the fire
Set neurons dancing around in your mind
Connecting your thoughts wire to wire

I feel better when I sing Hallelujah
I feel better when you sit next to me
I feel better when we stand together
That’s when I know I will always be free

Where do you go when you don’t understand
Why certain things happen beyond your control
Truth won’t make you any less of a man
Tell me your secrets I’ll show you my soul

I feel better when I sing Hallelujah
I feel better when you sit next to me
I feel better when we stand together
That’s when I know I will always be free

Do you hide in some mythical palace
Write down your dreams in invisible ink
Walk by the sea with your dog at sunrise
Strum your guitar till the healing begins

I feel better when I sing Hallelujah
I feel better when you sit next to me
I feel better when we stand together
That’s when I know I will always be free