Showing posts with label Peotry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peotry. Show all posts

Sunday, 25 September 2011

Waiting



What am I waiting for?

Waiting for what?

His return?

My acceptance?


I am waiting for my life to change.

I am waiting for change.

New horizons?

Fresh Beginnings?

Hope.


What am I waiting for?

Waiting for what?

The pain to stop.

The hurt to subside

End.


What am I waiting for?

Waiting for what?

His return?

My acceptance?

Hope.


Dix

Sunday, 22 May 2011

Did you know?





Did you know -


it's the fashion for boys to wear pink underwear.


They have to have their trousers hanging down -


to show them off.




Dix

Sunday, 15 May 2011

Jangling Edge

I feel on edge.
My nerves are jangling.
Please.

I feel like shouting,
shouting to release.
Please -

I need to calm
down my jangling nerves.
Please ...

I fell the urge,
the urge to be alone
Please let me be.

Please leave me
Please leave me alone.
Please give me time to be alone
Please give me time to chill
and find me!

by Dix

Monday, 23 June 2008

My shoe laces are frayed

The shoe laces on my Puma trainers are frayed
Not all four of them - only two
The left on the left
and the right on the right.
They have become thick and unruly
with the lengthening fraying.

I think I have a spare set of shoe laces
White trainer ones that would fit nicely
But where did I leave them?
In the third drawer down in the kitchen
(now here's another story)
With two sets of washing machine stabiliser bolts
Name Indesit and Hoover
And the charger for my toothbrush
And three different colour patches for paddling pools
That have been long dispatched to the tip
After spending the winter filling will scummy rain
And breeding grounds for mozzies
And a yellow tin of petrol to refill my father's silver plated lighter.

Yet the fraying keeps expanding
And the shoes laces won't feed back through the loops
Leaving ends that splatter causing trip hazards
Which brush slap marks on the pavement when it rains
And suck up the water like heavy rope.

My white Puma trainers are dirty and green
from walking the dog on recently cut grass
and squelching through soggy verges
They smell of cat pee and cheese
Although I just washed them last week.

Thursday, 10 April 2008

And this is me today (2) - Dreaming

DREAMPOEM



in a corner of my bedroom

grew a tree

a happytree

my own tree

its leaves were soft

like flesh

and its birds sang poems for me

then

with warning

two men

with understanding smiles

and axes

made out of forged excuses

came and chopped it down

either yesterday

of the day before

i think it was the day before

By Roger McGough

I found this poem today. I read poetry whilst sitting on the toilet. The thought repulses my friend, she is probably right, but poetry is right for this occasion, when you don't have long and but like to read and take your mind off what you are doing. Poetry on the toilet gives me little insights into wonderful language bytes that would otherwise be 'wasted' (sorry terrible pun). Anyway it got me thinking about dreaming and how I love to dream. I love to dream when I am asleep and am lucky enough to remember most of my dreams and I love to day dream even though I feel guilty about wasting time.

Sometimes my dreams are so real that I can not distinguish them from reality. I have dreamed someone is dead and then been really surprised to see them alive and breathing. Or dreamed I have done things and been generally surprised that I haven't - even accusing people around me of undoing them.

Back to dreaming per say. I realise what I liked about the poem is that someone is sums up how I feel about my dreams. But for me it is not two men who take away my dreams but my illness. When I am in the 'darkness' and sit and sit and sit for hours and days to think- the dreams are taken. When I long to escape into 'the corner of my bedroom' into 'a happytree' it is gone. It escapes me and makes me even sadder. And dreaming feels like a tree, somewhere strong and grown with age and experience, somewhere to be whoever you want to be, to be whatever you want to be. And when dreams are gone it is impossible to pin down th day when I stopped dreaming - 'i think it was the day before'.

I love the idea of a happytree - I might make a happytree to hang in my study, I will put pictures and ideas and nice things on it and pin my dreams on it.

That will be nice.

D