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Monthly Archives: August 2018

Reflections 2018 w34

Well my short story was posted last Monday for the Writing Kiln’s Pottery Prize, my first ‘proper’ writing competition entry, hopefully this one will have more than two people entering it (last years Brighter Futures in-house writing competition).

True the last one may have been a disappointment in the participation and therefore the result, but it did get my ‘story head on’ and this years entry was written.

It was written for the Potteries Prize last year, but I got my dates wrong for the entry which meant I either just published it on my site or saved it for another competition it fit the criteria for. Obviously I saved it, not even knowing if the competition would be running this year.

With the poetry writing my usual routine is to write it, leave it, alter it, leave it, alter it some more…Maybe publish it, reread it and tweak a little. But this, after nearly a year, has had no more alterations, the Brighter future story I would rewrite swathes of.

I feel I could not have written it any better, at this time, in the future, as my skill increase, who knows. But now, it is the best story I have written.

Miss Ross would be proud that I have finally written a story and it has a beginning, middle and an end. She always liked my stories, but I only wrote the middle part at high school.

One day I will write the book she always said I had in me.




Have You Ever Been? …#Poem#Poetry#Prose

Have You Ever Been?



At nighttime a walking,

a wandering the street.

Looking back behind you,

you heard some feet.

Jumped just a little.

Or given out a shout.

Rustle of the bushes

as the birds fly out.

Passing of yard gate,

nearly at the park.

Skipping over to the side,

when angry dog bark.

Rounding of the corner,

into someone bump.

Skipping of a heartbeat,

thump, thump, thump.

Asking of a question,


Critical the answer,

tortuous wait.

Then there are the butterflies

in ones full tum.

Physically sickened,

unlucky for some.

But, have you ever been,

in moment stuck?

Growing is the tension,

as each fears struck.

Unable to shake it,

you can’t turn away.

In every direction,

and every which way.

Each fear is added.

Stacking on the top.

It’s not like we want it.

We want it to stop.

Anxiety we all have,

it’s part of our mind.

Relief comes as normal,

when it’s left behind.

But when it is broken,

in it are trapped.

Help much is needed,

to get it unwrapped.

Don’t tell us that we need to,

out of it to snap.

If your helpful being not.

kindly shut your trap.

Pull ourselves together?

It’s just a state of mind.

Then from spiders you will run,

the bane of all mankind.

Heck it may be ladders,

under will not walk.

Superstitious sports routines,

or names we cannot talk.

All have been accepted,

treated as the norm.

But when the brain not work like that,

conform, conform, conform.


A § M 


Reflections 2018 w33

It’s been my sons visit today, and with the day being dry, he wanted to play outdoors. Now it’s been a long while that he has had his bouncy castle up, due to the sun, this is something that for some reason seems strange to write. We did not want to keep him in the sun too long so as not to burn, and just how hot would the bouncy castle get? Today though the sun was hiding behind the clouds.

It’s just a shame that the wind was gusty.

We agreed it was probably best that it stayed deflated, so it would not blow onto the roses and burst. So instead we went with the tunnel tent set, well the tunnel set anyway.

The tunnel set is one of those pop up tunnels x4 and what can only be described as a doughnut shaped centre, that the four tunnels go into to support the upper fabric. If this was to blow around it would not get burst and the fabric could always be repaired if it caught the roses. No way were the tents going to stay in this yard if erected, so they stayed in the box. If he could get his cousin to give chase it would make for a tiring morning/afternoon.

It went as planned till dinner time, occasionally the wind caught a tunnel and blew it down the lawn, but not too bad.

After dinner the gusts became stronger, the tunnels often blowing away, and the centre donut, all 5ft of it, started to lift.

The donut shape is only on the top, this allows children to pop up in the centre like a whack-a-mole. The bottom is solid material. The wind treated the donut like a wind sock and the bottom like a kite. One gust had me catching it 3ft off the ground surprised by the pull it was giving. And this is where I wondered if it could be turned into a kite.

I then thought for a while…I have not managed to fly a kite so far this year. I have had kites with me; to fly. However, they seem to be jinxed. Every time I have taken them out to fly the wind dissipates to not even a gentle breeze. Even the last two kite shows I have been to had the kites on the floor rather than in the air. I find flying a kite relaxing, mine are not the stunt type, just the single line types, and a lifter kite for a gopro type camera. It’s like a poor mans drone for aerial shots.

In theory any way, I have not had the wind to try….


Reflections 2018 w32

Sometimes writing these blogs comes easily, sometimes it is just slow on the uptake.

This weeks subject came to me when going for lunch after picking up monster, my nephew.

As it was going to be dinner time when we set off on the 19 mile trip, and passing a farm shop en route, one decided that a ploughman’s pork pie would be for my dinner. They are expensive for what they are, but as an occasional treat, worth it.

What makes this pork pie different than a normal one?

This has no crust top, cutting down on the pastry, whilst replacing it with spring onions and cherry tomatoes, there may even be a hint of mustard in the meat part as well. This was to be washed down with a curiosity cola, also expensive for what it is and also a treat.

But whilst waiting in the queue, I placed the bottle back and walked away.

There was one person serving, he also did the butchering, all in view of the queue. We all watched as he freshly cut the rib of beef for the first lady. When he had finished he had comments on how well he did the butchering, especially with an audience watching. A lighthearted exchange of words continued whilst he continued to serve the lady, £63 was the cost, a price she was very happy with. He handed her her receipt and took the bottles of wine from the next customer to scan them. This is when this customer was lost, possibly forever.

I stood watching as he wiped his hands down his apron, used the till and handled the change to the lady. At no point did he wash his hands in the sink once the meat was bagged, even though the sink was one step behind him, nor did he do it after serving and nor did he wipe the till down. If he was to have leant over the counter to get the baked goods from within it, he would have had a high chance of raw meat dropping off his butchering apron onto cooked meats and cooked pies. Even if that customer had the good fortune of bloodied hands being washed before handling.

If he does not wash his hands after handling raw meats, whats the chance he washes them after going for a pee???

No, I don’t think I will be going there again.

And you can no longer feed the pigs either, a great way to get rid of fallen apples.

Reflections 2018 w31

This is the first time in over a year and a half that I am late writing the reflections, technical difficulties have delayed posting before, but they have been written on time.

My natural instinct when not well is to sleep, it’s as though my body believes it will be all better when I wake. Truth be told, for something like the flu, it works, but not with depression.

Due to the cold turkey withdrawal of my anti anxiety meds I am having withdraws side effects, not as bad as others have stated on forums, but enough to alter my mood. And a low mood brings sleep, lots of sleep. Dragging my body around is bad enough as it is, but the heat and side effects are adding a whole new level of tiredness to the act.

The only positive to the whole thing is that any new medication, when my system is clear, will be accurately assessed, unlike the previous lots which also had a life change. Different home, end of relationship, being given access to charity groups/workshops and all the other changes that come with that. Coincidences to my ‘betterment’ of the time. A bit like the coincidences of side effects from medication. The reason I wanted the medication to stop and change.

Now one also wonders how much of the side effect is physical, and how much psychological – all thanks to the doctors constantly telling me coming off the medication will have side effects, which for some reason would not be coincidental – the logic of this escapes me but for some reason they then get believed. After-all the neurologist believes the physical pain is psychological, although the psychologists say it’s physical and the spinal team neurological.

Who knows, maybe one day I will get therapy to work this out, if Friday works out in my favour, this will be in the form of privately. It just does not seem available under current healthcare, only medication.

Pain killers for a broken leg??? Anyone???

p.s I thought I had pressed publish yesterday, oops.