A bit of word Tomfoolery on a Monday morning

If you have any form of Chronic illness you will know the Hell in Beauty

Add your condition and the beauty of your life: Family, friends, cooking, gardening or just a small amount of time pain free. I want to build a landscape that we live in X

The Living Hell of Beauty

Meet and greet great disaster

With every punch and blow

You stand still

Stand firm I say

Take it like a man my girl!

What the bloody hell is an upper cut?

Oh... there it is!

There is something deep

Within that makes me hold

Hold it in, and take the blow

Solar plexus

Perplexed

You’re from shoddy family

Connections far too low

To be strong of will?

Listen to him, listen close

He makes sense

Does he not?

Shadow boxing

Does not make you stronger you know

Weaker

Hold firm

The truth do will out

Eventually

In the end

Take a look from histories landscape

Torturous

Forsaken

Beleaguered

That soft foggy landscape

Where no beauty should aspire

But see the poppies

The lowly nodding poppies of beauty

Do you hear the voice of the nightingale?

It rises with the truth

And the hidden beauty

And yet, the weasel and the stoat

Gnaw and bite the beauty back

Hide the truth

Behind the veil of fog

That covers the beleaguered soldier’s agony

Their hypermobility flung out with PoTS

A belief system

Not a living hell?

Quiet contemplation will fix the landscape

March I say, march!

Accept you are mentally ill

Because I say so!

You are not living on a

Battlefield!

You are living in a dream world

My Girl!

Because I say so!

It does not smell that way to me Sir

The sun of truth

It does burns bright in my eyes Sir

I see the world as it is

Thank you

I see the poppies

On the gentle breeze of change

I hear the nightingale singing the truth 

In Berkeley Square

And beauty

It has always been there

And is set to rise!

Beleaguered soldiers young and old

Will walk hand in hand

Solid, strong  

And united!

They shall not be forgotten!

Nor will you Sir

Nor will you!

Happy Christmas

Recently I’ve been helping a friend come to terms with many events in her life the main one being the loss of her mum. We did this through a shot story I wrote changing it as she worked through the feelings and thoughts she had along the way. She had been her mother’s carer through the short illness that took her mother away bit by bit. Traumatic events that have life changing consequences that are either good or bad that need to be worked with to try to make sense of.

All through this process she had said how my words have helped, making peace in her heart. I gave her strength of mind she tells me, that the way I write puts things in a perspective that she had never thought of before. In reality it is the way she reads with that beautiful mind of hers and thinking that gives my writing its sparkle.

Through life we can become craggy and gnarled as we grow older but understanding and enlightenment can be a shining light on our minds true beauty, if we take the time to look through the differing angles. On her fortieth birthday I gave her a rock, inside of which had a beautiful array of amethyst crystals. Minds, thoughts, time, writing and reading for me all represent the beauty in that rock.

I never really had many books when I was growing up and on a trip to Shakespeare’s home I picked up a little green book that shone a perspective on my life that sheds shards of light on my thinking, it was called ‘A Shakespeare Treasury’ where sonnets 30 (Memory) and 60 (Time) sit side by side. The contents of this book were selected by Levi Fox (if you look him up on Wikipedia you will see what an extraordinary man he was) how clever of him, it is in my opinion a very well thought out approach to Shakespears work and life in general.

Somewhere in the reading of these two sonnets I mixed them up and come up with

As waves hasten to the pebbled shore

Old woes new wail my dear time’s waste.

No wonder they put me in the bottom set for everything at school, what a confuddled brain I have. However for me these words that have never been placed together held tight my belief that you should acknowledge old woes and wail a little for things that could have been but remember to make time in your memory to hold onto the now looking at from the perspective that makes you smile.

Her are the two sonnets

Memory

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.

Time

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Crooked elipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

So as we come to Christmas Eve when the festivities are about to kick off, or have kicked off in the wrong direction, hang onto Shakespeare’s sentiments-that is to say hold onto those moments that count, release those that cause pain then “dear friend, all losses are restored and sorrows end”

With seasonal love

Hush your speed

Hush your speed

Great march of time

Quieten down

And slow your pace a while

Come to a stop!

My babies are sleeping

And I want to watch.

The thing is the great march of time didn’t stop and in their beds; which they fill but still make me wonder how amazing life is.

            A smile in slumber is a joy to behold.

No Bacon Rolls but is he still ready for GCSE's? Oh and I sacked Tink this morning.

We decided to give the bacon rolls a miss this morning, it was cinnamon cereal that he left and I felt a little deflated. Then I had to dismiss Tink from her duties, which made me grumpy. Dogs and children know how to make you feel really mean.

            Each morning I take Tink upstairs to wake Axl and Ella up, there is nothing like a cold wet nose to get you going in the morning and they don’t tend to tell her off like they would if it was me, not that I have a cold wet nose.

            This morning when she jumped on Axl’s bed she just lay down next to him and curled up. When I asked her what she thought she was doing and that he had to get up. She looked intently at me and that look spoke volumes, leave him alone he needs his rest! She told me off. I tried to encourage her to go under the covers to give him his usual licks but she wasn’t having any of it. I called her into Ella’s room but there was no way she was leaving Axl. So I went and did the dead myself, getting the normal response from my darling daughter, which consisted of a grunt and ‘Oh for heavens sake mum’.

            I carried on with my daily ritual thinking that just the presence of Tink would be enough to get my eldest out of bed. A while later I went to check on progress. Angus was dressed, had brushed his teeth and now was having breakfast, Ella was titivating and where was Axl? Yep you guessed it, curled up around Tink.

            Tink looked up as I walked in and gave me that motherly stare of, back off he needs time. I sacked her on the spot, was she bothered, bothered, she was not. Axl flung his protective arm around her. I had to go on waking duty myself and got the same response from my ever loving son that I got from darling daughter. Did I feel mean? You bet!

            Time is so sad, don’t you think? It can give us moments of pleasure but mostly we have to walk away from those moments when we least want to. If I had time, I would have taken a picture and stood there for a while smiling at the two of them, somehow, as a reward for being a mum. But Axl needs time in the morning to de-fluster his flusterble personality and I need reassurance he has everything and set for the day. Time is of a premium in the mornings with no margin for deviation. Yep time makes ya sad.

            Our family does not run like a well oiled machine, especially in the mornings. Ours is more a kin to a knackered out old thing that somehow rumbles along, totally inefficient but gets the job done somehow. I run from one break down to another fixing the beast as best as I can. I have been working on a time travel mechanism, hoping to incorporate it into our family machine but as yet have dismally failed. Though by writing this perhaps I have captured it a little and past some on to you.

            Have a great day x

I Stayed and We Played

Some Mothers can do endless feats

Their children delivered on time

Right place clean face

Oh no! Not me

Wrong venue at a different time

Their faces covered in chocolate

Oh Hell! Now we’re really late

I’ve tried to clean the house

The garden is a bit of a state

And the dinner not yet on the plate

And it’s half past eight!

Oh! Where have I gone wrong wrong?

A super mum I ain’t

But I stayed and we played

And what fun we made

So forgive me my son and daughter

For not doing as I oughta

But we played tag

And I caught ya

And gave you lots of

Hugs and kisses too

I think this much nicer than

Me being a super mum

Don’t you?

I wrote this many years ago before GCSE’s became a reality for us but I like to read it on flustered days like this one, to remind me of the real importance of life and how time fly's.

When I wrote the poem

 then and now

Breath through the pain of motherhood, soon there will be a smile x

We live for short moments x

Add some of your 'then and now' pics on my comments or e mail them to me. They will hate us for it, but hey whats new x

A tribute to Jim

When ever I have mentioned my brother’s suicide there are those who will tell me how wrong it was. Well I struggle with that sentiment.

My brother was full of life and capability stripped by his mental illness. We have a lot to learn about the inner workings of the chemicals released in the brain that induce conflicting thought and perceptions, one day; I hope, we will support those in this field and give these illnesses the credence they deserve.

The struggle Jim found himself with (As far as I understood it) was like an out of body experience. He had told me, just before his death that very often he felt as if he was looking down on himself while something else controlled his body and thoughts. He had researched the drugs and the effects and as a result taken his findings to a solicitor, reasoning that these drugs were to blame for the way he behaved and the ‘Stupid thoughts’ (his words not mine) he was having. He had convinced the solicitor and made us think too, about his treatment. The doctor he was under explained in simple terms, how Jim’s condition took hold and how the drugs affected and interjected his thought process which they hoped would pull him out of the deep depressions or the highs he was experiencing. I am forever grateful to that doctor who showed my family great compassion.

Though we stood firmly by his side I knew his struggle was monumental and it was crippled by the effect it had on those he loved, though our suffering was nothing in comparison with the one he went through daily.

I know he didn’t take into account the long grief stricken road his family would take, how could he? We all ride the wave of emotion in different ways and in this great fragmented country of ours we find it hard to cope with strong outpouring of emotions, preferring to keep them hidden and out of sight. I haven’t got a problem with that but we must learn to ride the wave and not suppress it, as these feelings can become a great big bully if we let them. Talk about what happens and not hide it, listen and not criticise or chastise, then grab hope and remember if we look closely enough, every problem has a solution; possibly not the one we would wish for, and sometimes you have to make do with what you have, after all, we are only human.

So on this night many years ago we lost my brother and Tilly’s Moments were borne. I vowed in that suspended moment of grief, I had loved deeply enough to live life for us both as best I could. To accept that I may not understand or agree with things as they happen but I would always carry my brother’s smile with me.

My Mum and Me

Muggy summer days

When the atmosphere is full of thunder

I pull from my heart my brother’s smile

With the song of blackbirds

Cutting through the melancholy air,

I close my eyes and see it there: -

His deep-broad smile

Upon that dimpled cheek

And his clear blue eyes

That still makes me weep.

I yearn for his voice

For his news and his thoughts

As I watch the thrush, sit upon her nest

And see the blackbirds pick

The worms that are the best,

I rest my thoughts for a while

And play in my mind a film of him.

As now I look out of my window

I see my son and daughter playing,

I can see us making up games

Our sounds

And I smile fondly,

As our mother must have done

Those years long since past

I try hard to listen to his sound

If I heard it, how would I be?

My love for my mother grows

Ever strong

With reluctance I carry on my day

I put back in my heart

What I had taken out,

And sealed it with a smile.

For though we have a pain

That

Follows us

We would not wish to have lived without.

Our thoughts now forged

Together

As one

My Mum and me x

So with a glass of wine I will hold it aloft and smile X

My Most Glamorous Gran, my Nana Anne

A lot of the work I have included in this blog is highly personal, this poem the most personal of all. But, it’s far reaching, as in a way it encompasses us all, yet you could have viewed my Nan through stereotypical glasses and easily dismissed her gems of wisdom.

My Nan was one of the stereotypical working class bingo players, of the fluffy slippers and feather duster kind. In her palace, not a knickknack was ever out of place and a spec of dust was polished away the instant it dared to fall. I could lament on, about how life in the beginning had been hard and explain why she enjoyed the things and the life she had, but it would take to long.

She encompasses us all and embodies what we should all strive for: - to live through the hard times to have a little laughter and fun. Her life was normal in a very extraordinary way, as many peoples are. Perhaps, we should idolise the ordinary and not the manufactured celebrity, the first would be a happier and far more achievable life.

These ordinary people have insights the scholars take millenniums to contemplate. Like uncut diamonds they give their wisdom and if you polish it well, you will end up with a sparkle to life that gives a rainbow hue of sheer  delight.

My Most Glamorous Gran, my Nana Anne


You were my most
Glamorous Gran
Always dressed to perfection.
I have memories: -
Blue Morris Minor;
With a glove compartment
That was filled with the aroma
Of apples, leather gloves
And a duster or two.

A Pinny adorned
To clean ornaments galore,
Bingo,
Most of all
Your laughter.

These memories I’ve wrapped
Softly and gently with love
That will; in an instant,
Conjure up you.

But it’s the gift you gave
I’m thankful for;
A wise crystal,
A bright and beautiful Gem
You placed in my heart.

Sat on your bed with photos
You told me
How love is given
And can never be taken back.
‘You can’t turn it on and off like a tap;
Everyone is different’ you said
‘You don’t give less or more!
But give it the best way you can!

Mother, Farther,
Spouse, significant other,
Child, brother, sister
Family and friends
Are all individuals
Do you see?’
You said

This clear, bright
Rainbow hue of a diamond
You placed in my heart;
Safe from plunder,
Thank you x

A Year on from your passing this poem reminds me, life is worth working hard at.

Even when hurt and pain causes me to plunder my sole, that rainbow hue always makes my heart shine bright Love as always Tilly x