I climb a mountain

I climb a mountain
Walking steadily leaving life behind.
Away from the frantic high street,
away from the kids, the house.
No computer, no work,
no signal.
I breathe the cool, clear air.
I feel the stillness.
I look down and the world stretches in front of me,
my dog and I are happily alone.
The exertion energises and clears my mind,
Every step filling my body with the mountain’s steadiness,
every rock shares its jagged strength.
On the summit I am an eagle ready to fly,
I perch and ponder
fruit cake and cheese never tasted so good.


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Listen Hear the wind in the trees, gently tickling the leaves. Hear the tall grasses breathe in the summer’s warm breeze. I’m there with you. I hear it, too. I love you. Listen. Hear the distant train as it trundles away. Hear the sweet song of the bird that chooses to stay. I’m there with you. I hear them, too. I love you. Listen. Hear the crackle of the sticks as the fire grows quick, Hear the spark of the light as it burns so bright. I’m there with you. I hear them, too. I love you. Listen. Hear the snow falling silently, dulling the pain. Hear the roof holding strong, under the rain. I’m there with you. I hear them, too. I love you. Listen. I feel better when I’m there with you. I hear them, too. I love you.

wave March.

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I feel better when I resonate with airborne hum over magnetic fields whose shape and colour morph time and tongue. I feel better when I am within scientific beauty hewn from generations whose brilliance, separated by centuries but bound by city walls, transform diagnosis and track the patterns. shaping fall and rise. I feel better when I tingle through the harmonies of human folk whose chords and truths thread cultures and faith. I feel better when I am walking through landscapes unchanged by millennia whose geometry, shaped for shelters sketched by deadmen’s shoes, couple ancestors and ribbon the times. switching chaos to order. I feel better when I sun bask eyes blind orange fleckled by azure dance whose rhythms and coupling beat to Maxwell’s drum. I feel better when I am dappled by light’s eternal nomads whose flashes, through sun tunnels dug deep by quantum waves, trigger sparks and shatter the dark. giving day from night.

The Occasional Runner

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Well I am getting older. I’m surely not that unfit. Every man needs a belly . I just enjoy the odd cake. Anyway, beer’s good for the soul. Wine’s made of grapes, it’s one of your five a day. Everything’s bad for you these days. I’m sure I’ll manage it. I’m sure I’ll keep up. I’ve got all the gear. What do you mean no idea. I feel every step. My lungs do their best. Muscles pulse with heat. Heart pounding in my ears and chest. Drenched in sweat. Beginning to regret. It starts to come together. Body and mind in unison The endorphin’s hit every sinew. It’s over who would’ve thought it. Mind clear, body exhausted. All stress and worry left in the dirt. I’ll think I’ll do a marathon after all it wasn’t that bad. How much could that hurt?

Nan’s House

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Well known sights, smells & sounds, Familiar footsteps on hallowed ground. A journey of habit made a thousand times. Through choice or obligation, All manner of occasion, Close or distant relation, They all belong here. A place of memory, history and foundation, The centre point calling across the nation. Breaking the everyday routine, Drawing everyone back to their mean. Where everybody is equally craving a kind look, smile or word, That place of sanctuary where I’m happy to be seen and even occasionally heard.

I feel better when I am writing

I feel better when I am writing
Sat still, sat poised I write free
This gift of writing is time set aside for me
The pen on the paper, the words just flow
I never know what I’ll be writing or which way I will go
I write out thoughts, feelings and worries, I unravel and unwind
A few brief thoughts on paper, enough to untangle my mind
There are notes on happy days, an idea for a short story or a list of things to plan
It’s always surprising what appears on the page, I write when I can
So stop a while to sit and write,
A calming thing to do,
Remember you write for no-one else
You only write for you

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.

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.