Treasure; a poem about a ring

ring

How best to treasure you I ask

For to treasure you is my main aim

Can dusty boxes show your worth

Could darkened spaces tell your fame

And yet to have you always here

Would that show you are most dear?
Continue reading “Treasure; a poem about a ring”

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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 🙂

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.

Harsh reality of life

Alas poor Yorick, I knew him…

This famous of lines sparks a great many thoughts

 

How sad to think our friends will die.

How morbid and gloomy you cry.

Yet is it good to pretend all life goes on,

Like a fairytale story or over happy song?

 

I prefer to remember life is short.

Do my best to live in the present.

 

Try to spend time wisely, see family and friends.

Till this body dies and my life swiftly ends.

I try not to get caught in what might have been,

Some days i will struggle and on family i lean.

 

 

There is something calming about being where i grew up

Yet there is a tinge of sadness that i’m not who i once was

 

Not much has changed, it still feels like home.

I wish I lived nearer and didn’t have to roam.

I feel more at ease, I don’t wish to leave

Yet a new home i have, where my life i now weave.

 

Think i may be a word over the 100 words but i am on my mum’s laptop and can’t work out how i might go about counting the words lol.

Hope people enjoy the poem and if you want to take part then here’s the link. I found the prompt very inspiring.

Smog poem

All lies in haze, this heavy shroud

Covering England with a silence loud

No birds calling all hush and still

The lands too quiet, I feel a chill

 

Like the intake before a great storm

Standing on the edge of what feels norm

Whilst surrounding me a heavy smog

Like smoke from a long burning log

 

I stay in the warmth and try not to see

Not focus on the strange but my own reality

Reality of my safe warm home

Content to stay put, why should I roam?

Where does sharing end and offloading begin? Poem

Warning, this was written when in a very low place so for any with depression this may become a trigger. (I do not want to ruin anyone’s day so thought a warning might be better 🙂 ) and for those who may get concerned I have climbed up a bit from down there 🙂 I find writing poems helps express how i feel even to myself. I must say I was shocked to read this back and realise just how low i get.

 

Is keeping from you just how low I feel, lying?

Should I open up fully or is that just offloading?

I know you want to be there for me, but how much can you deal with?

When you have you own worries. How much can you give?

 

I try to tell you just what’s needed. Not dwell on the pain

Keep things to basics avoid opening a vein

I don’t want the feelings to bleed out of me

Feelings that would worry, as you’d know I’m not free

Free to make choices of what I will and won’t do

No. I am a prisoner till the illness is through

 

Is hiding all of this really such a bad thing?

Where does sharing end and offloading begin?

If I can’t face myself, due to guilt and the hate,

Then does It mean I should share or try and change my fate?

What good would it do?

Image
By stock images on http://www.freedigitalphotos.net

 

I feel like running, far away from here

But my problems wouldn’t lag behind, I’d be racing side by side

I feel like screaming, cursing nobody and everybody

But my voice will only carry my troubles to listening ears

I feel like staying in bed, curtains shut tight

But darkness doesn’t hide the pain and solitude won’t help

I feel like doing many things, none of them very healthy

But I force myself to take a another route

 

Does that make me bold or stupid?