Life Train

Life Train

If you have become mentally ill, then yes you are unlucky. I and many more who know you will be feeling very sad too. We will be there for you, and rooting for you. Also, if you have found yourself to be delivered to a psychiatric ward then that is very sad too. Trust me people you know will be thinking of you and will come and visit you as regularly as they can. As angry as you are feeling, you are there because your family and doctor

and maybe the police want you to get back on track.

I would like to tell you about that track.

You are on a train, you are on a very long journey, this journey is your life. You have reached the first station. You are feeling very tired and not very well. Some people on the platform have noticed you through your window, they realise you need some help. So the station happens to be the psychiatric ward you are dwelling in. Whilst you are there you will meet the stationmaster (your psychiatrist). When you meet that person, you may well say – “Excuse me why have you taken me from that train? I am in a serious rush and I must get to my final destination now.”

The station master will hopefully say – “Hello passenger, some of my friends saw you on that train. These people are my messengers and they called me and told me what they had seen. Because I care and have cared for many passengers on many life trains of life. Because I care and have cared and have cared for many passengers and put many passengers on the next available life train, I would like you to put your trust in me, I will do my best to refresh you, fill you back up. I hope to fill you with a new zest for your journey, and when you are full and your zest is there and I am totally sure you are ready to get back on the next available train, I will smile at you, you’ll hopefully smile back at me with that new found zest in your eyes, I will give you my firmest handshake. Then I will give you your ticket back. Then my messengers will take you back to the platform, and wait with you for your train. Hopefully it will arrive on time, when it does you may feel a little nervous and unsure, so please try to remember the things I have said to you whilst you were in my waiting room, and step on that train with assurance, confidence, knowledge, positivity, peace and love.

This luggage will help you on your new life train. That train will reach many stops along its tracks. There will be a station at every stop. If you ever need a bit of refreshment or a rest at any stop, don’t be afraid to step off your train, and take a walk with the messengers to talk with the master.

If this ever happens there will always be another train, so once all our work is done you will be back on track. And I know you are in a rush, but remember a rushed job never gets done right.”

My name is James. The reason I know is that I am on the train in front of you, and I have become tired many times. Every time this has happened I have stepped off the train and gone for a talk with the master.

When I have been ready I always get my ticket back, and jumped on to the next train.

Our journey is long, as long as we look out of our windows we see many things and learn many things also. And as long as we keep ourselves safe and visit the master at any station, our journey will continue through life, trust me even people who aren’t mentally ill will need a break along their way, and I just hope they will never have to meet our station masters.

Get well soon and enjoy your ride!

Mummy glue

posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

Mummy glue

I open

The door

She is awake

Mood is not good

Still she gets up

She makes me breakfast

She messes my hair up

Tries to smile

Gets me ready for school

Checks the book bag

Places the dinner money in an envelope

Wraps herself in a long coat

Walks me to school

Smiles again

Kisses me

I still say

She is mummy glue

She is keeping it together

She is holding it together

She is the glue

That keeps me together

She

posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

She

She talks to me

She reads to me

She listens to me

She cooks for me

She fixes the house

She will not let the illness control her

She potters around the house

Until she is ready

To sit in silence

When she thinks she is ready

Ready for her bed

Speak to Me, Serenity

posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

Speak to Me, Serenity

Just sixty seconds
Every minute is the same
So why do my saddest minutes feel like hours on end?
Is this to reveal my shame?

Just sixty minutes
Every hour is the same
So why do my lowest hours feel like days on end?
Torture, yes, in all but name!

So speak to me, Serenity…
Take this sad soul by the hand, plant my feet in warm, soft sand
Oh speak to me, Serenity…
Wrap this heart of lost desire, in love’s warmth beside the fire.

So speak to me, Serenity…
Bathe this troubled mind in peace, bring the sleep of sweet release
Oh speak to me, Serenity…
Wash the shadows all away, giving hope for this new day.

Twenty-four hours
Every day is just the same
So why do my darkest days feel like weeks on end?
Who’s the person I should blame?

Seven days, they say,
Every week is just the same
So why do my hardest weeks feel like months on end?
Don’t want to play this mindless game!
So speak to me, Senenity…
Take this sad soul by the hand, plant my feet in warm, soft sand
Oh speak to me, Serenity…
Wrap this heart of lost desire, in love’s warmth beside the fire.

So speak to me, Serenity…
Bathe this troubled mind in peace, bring the sleep of sweet release
Oh speak to me, Serenity…
Wash the shadows all away, giving hope for this new day.

Serenity, oh Serentity…
Speak to me … and set me free

Serenity, oh Serenity…
Be my strength and liberty

Oh sweet serenity…

Autumn

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

I Feel Better When…

I feel better when I am drinking a cup of tea,
Warm, comforting, hugging me

I feel better when I am reading a good book,
Escaping, imagining, I am totally hooked

I feel better when I am talking to my Mum,
Though you are no longer here, your words of wisdom come

I feel better when I am walking the dog,
Listening to nature’s monologue

I feel better when I am watching comedy,
Laughing so hard I cry tears joyously

I feel better when listening to my children play,
Laughing, crying and shouting, ‘hey’

I feel better when I’ve had a good sleep,
And not spent all night counting sheep

I feel better when a loved one touches me,
Then offers me a cup of tea.

Being Me

I step outside my front door where I put on my invisible masks.
A daughter, sister, wife and mother; friend, colleague and a neighbour
A mask I wear for each one.
My masks overlap and shift as the day wears on
From person to person, moment to moment.
I am lost and wonder, who is me?
I step inside my front door; some of the masks melt away,
Self-imposed labels dictated by society when all I want is to be me.
I step into my bathroom as day becomes night,
I wash away my make-up; my one visible mask
And finally I feel better for now I am me.

I feel better when I am in touch

I feel better when I am in touch

I look up and see you, blackbird.
The song you sing is lost to me.
I cannot hear you.
I don’t know why.
I walk on, acquainted with silence.

What has happened to me?
Why are my senses failing me?

I look up and see you, again.
I see you singing, but it’s lost on me.
I still cannot hear you.
I don’t know why.
I walk on, deafened by silence.

When did this happen to me?
How are my senses failing me?

I look up and see you, blackbird.
A song once heard touches me.
I sense your calling.
I want to understand.
I walk on, saddened by silence

Something is happening to me
Are my senses failing me?

I look up and see you, friend.
This time I know the song you sing.
I can hear you
I start to understand
I don’t walk on, overjoyed with sound.

I see you.
I hear you.
I know you.
I have found myself once more.

A Sense of Purpose

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

Taking my life,

lots of reasons,

all laid out on paper,

bullet pointed,

then without despair,

wondering what’s next,

I execute my plan

and my life.

 

Failed, still alive,

a mental health ward.

Then five months later

meds and referrals in hand

I return to my flat,

my bullet point existence.

I try to think of a future,

a ‘still alive’ purpose.

 

It’s taken a year.

Those meds and referrals,

a cpn, a new flat,

A disabled way of living.

Now calmly thinking forward,

trying not to panic

I fill out a form to volunteer,

a sense of purpose, maybe.