The Boundary

The boundary is unclear,

I reach out my hand, searching blindly

Yet my hand seems reached in open air

I feel no change, I sense no barrier

Where does it start or end? Where does it begin?

 

I go to take my first step to where it might begin

I am poised to move but a shiver halts me

My hand is going cold, the boundary is more clear

For there is one difference between here and there

A change from warm to cold, a move to the ice

 

The boundary was unclear but I am near

Where does it begin? It begins here.

 

 

This poem was inspired by a photo taken by Paul Militaru. I have been inspired to write in the past due to his creative work and once more owe him thanks for inspiring me. Please do take a look at his site.

 

 

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The Death of Me; a poem where opposites may attract with fatal consequences..

Spontaneity was not something often associated with my life

Planned and methodical to the point where all efforts were laboured

I couldn’t function without lists and tasks; goals kept me grounded

Yet I found myself engulfed by you and your noxious freedom

:~:

Just chill you would say but without my plans I felt naked

I wouldn’t feel prepared for the day, lacking in purpose

You swept in and within moments the effects took hold

You spurned my plans and I choked on your freedom

:~:

The fumes linger on though your time here was brief

I find myself struggling to free myself from the lists, but

Without my lists I am nothing, without goals I do not function

Your poison almost took more than my freedom

This is written from a three word prompt found here. I love drawing inspiration from writing prompts and then seeing how others can be inspired in vastly different ways. Hope you enjoyed reading 🙂

Holiday departure; a 100 word poem

© <a href="http://taluda.openphoto.net/gallery/">Adrian van Leen</a> for <a href="http://openphoto.net/gallery/image/view/19738">openphoto.net</a>

No hot sun welcomed her as she rolled her lumbering suitcase along the dull grey tarmac. Waiting for a taxi gave her too much time to reminisce. She would miss the island; so many great evenings spent dancing with the locals, and those fantastic afternoons trying out the best restaurants. Still, holidays make memories but her life was no less filled with joy. She could get back to her faithful cat and catch up with friends; work wasn’t too bad when the boss wasn’t breathing down her neck! She enjoyed her everyday life, but she really would miss that sun.

http://juliasplace.org.uk/100wcgu/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week166-2/

We All Stand Together; a Poem in reaction to injustice, a Poem of solidarity

http://photopaulm.com/2015/09/03/railing/
Railing by Paul Militaru.  (thank you for allowing me use of this image)

Twisted together by love

Bonds not just of blood but of humanity

We stoop down to support the weaker

Lending our strength so that no one stumbles

Together we weather the storms

Each piece connecting us to another

A different life, added to the whole

A weaving together of families

Unique yet the same

We

All

Stand

Together

The inspiration and meaning behind the Poem We all Stand together

The crisis in Syria and indeed elsewhere has become an inescapable fact. One very striking image of a child, Aylan, swept ashore became the catalyst for change. I must admit that at first it just didn’t feel real; it was too far from my everyday life to really hit me. As I sat in my home, it was hard to accept that this was reality for others, hard to accept that the little boy was dead as are so many others. It took a few moments and reading a few articles for all the horror to sink in. That people were so desperate as to get aboard a rickety ship only to have their child swept into the water. They risk everything for the chance of a life, a chance at being free.

Signs of desperation – an image of an overcrowded Dingy filled with Syrian and Afghan refugees.

refugee dingy

The above is an image of an overcrowded dingy being pulled from the Turkish coasts to the Greek island of Lesbos, published in July 2015. The photograph shows clearly just how many try to travel on one boat; this to me shows it is a last attempt to break away from the life they have known, a very desperate act.

As I said, the harsh reality didn’t immediately hit me with the image of Aylan; rather, it came upon me gradually as I read articles on WordPress. I think the moment I truly felt the impact of the boy was when I came across the image of an old wooden railing, each piece seeming to support another. This is what I feel we are called to do, to help other humans who haven’t had the fortune to be born in a wealthy country, to help those who flee what we can’t even imagine.

Are we doing enough to help those in need? Is it only Syrian refugees that are in need of our compassion?

from Earth

The injustice of only helping those from one place was really shown by a witty cartoon where the captain of a large vessel, instead of immediately helping those on a small dingy, shouted out ‘Where are you from?’ The response displays the very idea of only helping some to be a truly inhuman act – ‘Earth’, was the response.

So I say if they are truly running for their lives, they are refugees and we have a duty as other human beings to help them. They don’t wish an easy life of no work, but simply wish to live out their lives.

I feel angered that David Cameron would have us only help but a few from just one place. He is trying hard to do as little as possible, and in doing so making our country sound to be filled with hard-hearted fools; but I have a heart for those in need and will do my bit.

I have already signed petitions but I felt I wanted to do more and so with a heavy heart I wrote this poem. Sometimes I feel that it is rare for us to all stand together; we spend so much time looking at differences and excusing our inaction, our failure to help those in need. If you feel moved by this crisis, then I hope you allow those feelings to move you to action.  It doesn’t have to be a world-changing decision; it can be some small act, signing a petition, raising awareness on social media or writing something on WordPress. It’s when the small acts come together that great changes can be made. We All Stand Together is a poem of hope; that we might set aside differences and stand up for justice.

Happy??!!??

I’m an expressive person, always have been and as i write this i have tears in my eyes. Tears of joy, release or what i do not know. I feel more free with energy and life.

I feel HAPPY.??!!

I have not often felt so happy, since being diagnosed and hadn’t even realised just how euphoric and giddy the feeling is and here i will need to pause as the tears flow too fast to see.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

What lead me to this point is hard to answer. A hundred different choices and decisions, all the fights and pushing on even when i felt i must just give up. Many of my poems were written in the darker days but now looking back it feels i was always very slowly inching forwards.

At times I all but gave up, closing in on myself and hibernating…… but then when I re-entered the fight – to have a life to have purpose and joy – I came back fighting that bit harder for my freedom.

Freedom;

Its a perfect description of what I feel; so overwhelmed and without fear, not looking back, holding a plan to move forward but happy in this place right now.

I have often striven to be more in the moment and this felt the first time I had truly achieved this aim (other than when with another such as my husband or a close friend) when alone I could never be in the moment, not truly.

There are still a great number of reasons to not be happy, to be fearful and depressed but i don’t feel that way and this is a shock to me. Like a new found experience, I feel at a loss for how to describe and so it is not that surprising that my initial response was to express my feelings without the use of words; in that initial moment I danced. I span and expressed myself with movement and freedom and something broke inside me, some wall crumbled.

Here again I had to pause as more tears flooded down my face as I relive that special moment of abandoned joy.

I had convinced myself that dancing would never again be a part of my life, the every day motions of living were so painful that to dance seemed out of reach. I had no idea how much this thought of loss and pain had changed me. The cutting out of my life dancing had finally stopped today as I danced without pain or fear.

To say I’m in shock is an understatement, I’m shaking and crying and just wondering over it all. In a space of maybe 20 minutes I have gone from a sedate state of moving along through life to having a real happiness at my achievements and here, I think, must have been the trigger of release. All those times I had said

‘I can’t…’

but I did!!!

I have recently done many extra hours of work, a feat I thought would never be possible. I pushed myself, suffered with the pain and pushed on again. Over November I worked 54 over time hours, It was the act of writing down these overtime hours that made me realise just what I had achieved and so as I went to grab some lunch I found myself dancing in the kitchen, expressing my joy of finally beating one of my ‘I can’t ever….’ statements.

I’m still in shock and just needed to write down these feelings as they pour out of me like a cleanse from within.

I feel free 🙂