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Category Archives: poetry

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,

 anticipate.

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 

20/08/2018

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I Don’t Want To Go Outside …#Poetry#Prose#Poem

I Don’t Want, To Go Outside

 

I don’t want to go,

exposed outside.

But behind this door,

remain and hide.

What is it, out there,

I fear, to face?

Nought but the monster

in my own head space.

The door is where

the line is drawn.

Even though my mind’s,

where the monster’s born.

The fears in the fog,

where the shadows will hide.

Upon gusts of the wind,

will the monster ride.

The rain its tears,

as it passes overhead.

In the suns long shadows,

it will hide instead.

The ice its skin,

as it slithers under foot.

Its cold, cold hand,

on exposed skin put.

Hear the dogs a barking,

to scare it away.

Movement in the trees

and the branches will sway.

The birds are disturbed,

take flight with a shrill.

as the frost of its breath,

in my lungs will chill.

No there’s nothing out there,

but what’s in my mind.

And my mind’s made up;

We’re not going out.

 

A § M 

18/05/18

Once Upon a Time…#Poetry#Prose#Poem

Once Upon a Time

 

There once was a time that you did tear,

When ride me you told was your last year.

On a pier I’m quite quaint,

But I’m loosing my paint,

n you’ve still not returned me my left ear.

 

A § M 

19/05/2018

My Medical Experience …#Poetry#Poem#Prose

My Medical Experience

 

A broken leg will not be left,

pain killers just be given.

No gaping wound be stitch denied

a plaster handed out.

A foreign object pierced the skin

would not be left to fester.

And if your heart will have attack,

would lazy just be called?

An if to walk you need some help

would therapy be given?

 

But what if these you were denied, and only pills be given?

What if these will come with scorn, and government you blame?

How well would you become?

How soon would you to work return, if nothing was to change?

And if you’re told you choose that life, because you find it easy.

How welcome would you feel?

 

There is no magic pill to have, that is – what we are told.

But now they have a pill for that, it’s new, just look, behold!

Therapy supposed to be, to solve the problem had.

But all I do is take damn pills, and this i’m told be glad.

Side-effects to be ignored, or worse just be accepted.

But still I go and battle on, I’m drained, I have been emptied.

 

How long do I remain unwell, and better not be getting,

before you will accept your wrong, and your pills – they need a vetting?

 

A § M 

15/05/2018

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk

Plotting Time…#Poem#Poetry#Prose

Plotting Time

 

Sitting in the shed,

sorting all the seeds.

Making out the list,

writing all my needs.

 

Greenhouse needs a clean,

algae have to scrub.

The pots I have from last years plants,

I’m washing in a tub.

 

Swept remainder of the leaves,

pulled up first of this years weeds.

Plot of soil that’s been raked flat,

what is planted? This and that.

 

Blackbird watches in pear tree,

the robin sits on fork.

Keeps an eye out for the worms,

that show up where I walk.

 

Disturbing hiding frogs,

when moving bags and bins.

It looks like little mouse made home,

in old and rusty tins.

 

No room for ornament or light.

No place for garden gnome.

Few flowers round the edges are,

t’is mainly veg thats grown.

 

Now’s time for lead on Spot to put,

pack up and head off to home.

My dinner I have yet to eat,

and Spot she wants her bone. 

 

 

A § M 

21/04/2018

    

Food…#Poem#Poetry#Prose

Food

Something to eat.

To nourish the body.

Starvation to beat.

To cook or have cooked,
or have it delivered.
Are we in, or out, when we eat?.
Fancy or plain,
new or the same?
A cafe, a restaurant, a treat.

With family, with friends,
beginnings to ends,
and all of the ages between.
The happy the sad,
the good and the bad,
through all will food be it seen.

A birthday with tarts,
the joining of hearts,
a breakfast at end of the day.
A seasons event,
with food be it spent,
happy, as children at play.

A loss of a person,
is marked by a wake.
Tis needed to help heal a hole.
Tea and a sandwich,
and maybe some cake,
the food, it comforts the soul.

A connection is made,
of food and of pain,
the comfort of eating,
but weight will I gain.
So punish my body
with sugar and salt.
Eat till it’s painful,
it’s always my fault.

Habit accepted,
my self abuse.
Companies like it,
my habit they use.
Happy they sell us,
with every bite.
Adverts and sales teams,
flexing their might.

Make it addictive,
to profit increase.
Sell it as healthy,
new flavour release.
Turn on unhealthy,
it’s ‘choice’ that they say.
There’s no other reason,
we’ve ended this way.

Psychology and science
to sell food is used.
But treatment when asked for
is often refused.
Or if your accepted
theres often long wait.
So the cycle continues,
with the food that I’ve ate.

A § M 

18/03/2018

    

Woolly Hat…#Poetry#Poem#Prose

Woolly Hat

 

Woolly hat that’s filled with holes,

woolly hat brand new.

Woolly hat with bags of room,

woolly hat too small.

 

Woolly hat with bobble top,

woolly hat with none.

Woolly hat with patterns on,

woolly hat just plain.

 

Woolly hat with ear flaps,

woolly hat with ties.

Woolly hat of creatures heads,

woolly hat with tail.

 

So simple is the woolly hat,

Nanna knits at home.

For babies that are yet still fresh,

keep them toasty warm.

 

And yet when do I sit and look,

not a pair in sight.

Except for on the shopping rail,

they’re selling on my right.

A § M 

6/6/2017