Poetry

Diane’s Story

Diane lived in Georgia, one of the most populated states in America. With many big cities and a geographical range from the mountains to the beaches, there is much more to Georgia than its famous peaches. Diane’s parents live in Bristol, England, roughly 6608 miles from Georgia, and though similarly having much to offer, Bristol and the state of Georgia hold many differences. Despite the distance, Diane and her family regularly visited one another and communicated often through phone calls.

During one of Diane’s visits to her parents’ home she noticed that both her mother and father were starting to become more frail and their mobility was deteriorating. Boris, Diane’s father, during this visit climbed upon a chair to change a light bulb and slipped off the chair, luckily he was not injured but was very shaken by what could have happened. There had been many people over that day who he could have asked to complete the job, but he impulsively struggled onto the chair to change the bulb. Diane knew that her parents would find it difficult to admit that they are struggling and really needed some
support.

Diane made the decision to put her home in Georgia up for rent and move countries into her parents’ home. She stated: “It was easier for me to move in thanfor other family members: When questioned what she meant by “easier; Diane responded: “Well logistically, as I don’t have any children: Emotionally she went on to explain that she did not actually feel ready to leave her life in the USA, but things just snowballed and her parents needed her.

Boris and Barbara live in a large house therefore fortunately there was a room available for Diane to use. Diane’s parents live within a friendly community and Diane is regularly asked: How’s your mum and dad? Diane knows the value of her parents having such a supportive local community to feel connected and not fall into loneliness.

Diane works full-time as admin support within Social Care, cares for her parents full-time, and runs her own business selling handmade candles. Though her employer is understanding and she loves her parents and business, it can sometimes all feel quite overwhelming. Diane shares that her biggest challenge is organising, attending, and keeping on top of all her parents hospital appointments. These appointments are increasing with time due to her parents’ age and her mother recently being diagnosed with cancer. Diane is, however, devoted to ensuring her parents have all they need and are safe and well.

While talking to Diane and hearing all about her life and business she suddenly stopped and expressed: “For once it’s not about mum and dad; it’s about me!”


Guilt

He sits in his black chair
Wearing his black dressing gown
Searching for unachievable sleep
The room’s greyness surrounding his world …
Unfairly

Outside all is bright
The sulphur yellow sun
Peeps through tiny curtain cracks
Where the bustling crowds move …
Healthily

All of his life the guilt
Of his progressive condition
40 years of caring
And still I accuse …
Myself

©Penni Cotton 2022


Phoenix

I’m battered, worn out
Overwhelmed
Anxiety on my shoulders
New and pre-existing burdens

Look at me, head bowed
Skin pale, transparent even
You can look straight through me
Sense my weakness
My exhaustion’s plain to see

Might I collapse?  I think I will
But…I feel my feet
Connect with earth supporting me
They push the ground away
It pushes back

I feel a force – I’m taller!
Look – I’m rising
I’m surviving
No, actually I’m thriving
I’m authentic and enriched
Marvelling, celebrating, it’s amazing

I can feel the fear
That’s gripped me
Slip away

What is happening?
What’s that feeling?
It’s self-worth emerging
From what I’ve coped with here

©Jo Lambert 2022


March of Time

Our weekly meetings
Bring so much joy
Shared histories together
For us to employ

So many years of knowing
So much language flowing
So many experiences
Make life glowing

Students, film, theatre, drama
Literature and language make life calmer
But, over the years, one doesn’t see
The March of Time on both him and me.

©Penni Cotton 2022


Different People

How sad to know that in this world a tyrant lives
Who doesn’t care how much torment he gives
To anyone: – adult or child – who might be in his way.
He goes to war no matter what we say.
But other folk are working to repair.
They heal, and help, and show they want to share.

I watch a family who group around
A bumble bee which struggles on the ground.
A credit card is used to scoop him up;
He’s carried to a nearby crocus cup.
He’s safer there, and maybe will survive,
And all concerned are glad that he’s alive.

Later that day, I walk the dog and see
A road that’s closed to traffic annually:
For toads and frogs that cross to find a pond,
Wherein they hold their springtime courtship bond.
The cars and vans drive round a different way,
And we all hope our wildlife’s here to stay!

©Patricia Maskell 2022


Darkness and Light

The key is turned, he comes into the hall.
“How was your day?” I say,
“Was travelling OK?”….A pause..
and then “Yes, thank you!” and
he goes up to his room.  No sound…

Until a phone call from a friend.
“I’ll let him know” I say.
He’s heard the phone..
he comes and says: “Hello!  Yes, thanks,”
and not much more.  The phone’s
Put down and off he goes:-

to stare at walls and think of all his cares.


The days pass by, and nothing changes much.


How will he be today? A busy day, with happy thoughts, and many things to do?
Or will it be a silent one?  No words to say and shut off from the world.
The sky is dark and all the world’s asleep..
BUT he’s awake, and dressed, and making tea.  He talks a lot…
A good day lies ahead!

©Patricia Maskell 2022


Entitled

Don’t feel bad

For needing care

Because of you

I’m more aware

Of suffering and of passion too

Of joy and meaning

Intensity of feeling

Respect for you and

All you manage to do

My life’s authentic

And so I am I

I’ve no regrets

Except I wish

You’d suffered less –

How proud I am of you!

©Jo Lambert 2022


Autumnal Reflections

After many years
Pain recedes seasonally
Acceptance blooming?

©Penni Cotton 2022


Who Are You?

It is time for change, my future has been seen,
It’s time to sweep out the old cobwebs of long ago.
Stripping out the obstacles and obstructions that are holding me back.
I may not be clear about what or who they are, or even what I want,
But I know in my heart the pain they have caused, the struggles they have given me,
Both externally and within my mind, my body, my soul.

What’s the first step?
I’m confused and lost in a spiral of bewilderment and haze.
I take a blind step into existence and surprisingly it begins to open doors.
Doors that you would normally never have opened for me. Doors which are usually closed.
Opportunities begin to squeeze their way in, forcing open the crevices stiff from times gone by.
I hope the universe has good intentions for me, all I have to do is believe.
But it’s so hard.

Being true to myself will give me everything I need.
What am I searching for, love and respect, happiness? Is that too much to ask?
I allow myself time to sit and be and break down further barriers to set myself free.
I start as I mean to go on and embrace the positives in and around me, nothing can hold me back.
And I let go of the struggle, the pain, the restrictions of the past.

I’m taking back control. The time is right, the time is mine.
I take the first step and feel the energy of life start to build inside, filling every crevice of my body.
I let it flow and it consumes my fears, releasing my inner vibe, strength and belonging.
I’m just being me. You just be you.
Be the revolution your body, mind and soul desires.

© Shirley Lafond 2022


Post Diagnosis

Just one weed –
And now, one more.
A moment of quiet
On my own before
In one foul swoop a handful of splinters
Rose thorns the blighters,
Left over from Winter.
Almost overnight a swelling redness appeared
Blistered, started tracking
Stoking my fears
Of runaway infection,
An early demise
Those left behind, tears in their eyes.
For you see, on that day
When the verdict arrived
A part of me faltered
Shifted deep inside.
The garden I’d planted
And taken for granted
Reduced to a rubble,
Now burning by finger in this blistery bubble.
This wound that arrived
In the small cracks of my quiet
Swelled with deep anger,
From a pain-filled diet.
An x-rayed, examined medicated reversal
Means the tide is receding,
This show, just for now, merely rehearsal
But it only took that one weed,
And then one more
To cause a salty solution to fall on the floor.
The ground (and my cheeks) constantly bathed in brine,
As I make peace with my life,
And these new splinters of mine.

©Layla Brokenbrow 2022


Balloon floating

Balloon floating high in the bluest of skies
Drifting
Bouncing
Bobbing

Hope….there is always hope!
But so often burst
“Bang!”

Shattered
Torn to shreds
How to put the pieces together?
Where to start?
Where to end?
There seems no end
I am tired
Worn
Older
Sad
Frustrated

How can ‘they’ leave him?
The road is long
Balloon drifts, bounces, bobs
Carried along in the blue sky….

©Carole Driskell 2022


View from the Hill

In March, the picture was black, white and grey,
With the town like a newspaper stretching away;
With straight columns; and hard lines; occasional spaces,
And those small squares and dots are our own living spaces.

It’s May now, and everything’s come up a treat-
With brilliance and colour all over the sheet.
A blue river, green gardens, and buildings that shine…
So much clearer to see when the weather is fine.

It’s a good place to walk: in the park, on the hill,
And observe seasons changes, as they always will.
To enjoy Nature’s beauty and bountiful charm.
Here, time doesn’t matter, and everything’s calm.

Our lives are a patch on a newspaper page:-
Some black spots, some colour, and fading with age!
What stories are told will depend who we are.
(Many problems grow smaller when viewed from afar.)

©Patricia Maskell 2022


Stay

In this moment
When you’re exhausted
And out of hope
Desperate for escape, a break
An end to this relentless pain

When you can’t connect with purpose
Or with meaning
Head splitting from your own engulfing screaming

I know what you’re going through
I’m here for you, I’m holding you
Safe in a peaceful place

Imagine how I’ll stroke your hair
Caressing your survivor’s face

I’m saying “Stay”

Listen to one who knows
Who’s been in this place too

You’ve had to be so brave, a feat
You’ve been courageous on repeat

I’ll risk invalidation and shall guilt-trip you to stay
You’ll murder others with your death
So please don’t die today

©Jo Lambert 2022