Saturday, 6 December 2008
oasis of hope
sporadically flecking the green leftovers
and beyond the horizon
are warehouses
dark and morose in their old and dirty bricks
vivid blue jackets, wool coats and berets
a bundle of talent whipped by the wind
we huddle against the cold
grey men pass by looking at us
unanswered thoughts in their minds
and no guts to ask us what we we’re up to
on the other side of the road
a red mail box stands
forlornly on the corner behind some railings
like a prisoner, its mouth gaping emptily
how many people use it each day?
a row of little shops
(some shuttered and some with dull eyed windows)
go from meat to medicine
standing salutes to the boulders
that the hometime children climb
the long roof is covered
with clumps of green and brown moss
and populated by scaggy pigeons
above houses with balconies but no movement
a bird flies and sings
so happy
as an empty cigarette box
dances below
people bustling, walking and talking
busy shoppers, wrapped up warm
boys in hoods on mobiles
chatting, huddled close
while litter and leaves
blow around the feet of
shivering mothers with chubby
overdressed babies in buggies
the wind catches my eye
and tears well up
at the sudden cold
and so I turn to the open door
an oasis of hope
a collective poem
by members of the Writing Lives group
Sunday, 9 November 2008
Thoughts on a black cat
and I stay in my place...
Up there on your chair,
on your bed or your face!
only a cat,
and I’m not finicky much...
I'm happy with cream
and anchovies and such!
only a cat,
and we'll get along fine...
As long as you know
I'm not yours... you are mine
More thoughts on a black cat
A cat as black
as blackest coal
is out upon
His midnight stroll,
His steps are soft,
His walk is slow,
His eyes are gold,
they flash and they glow.
And so I do run
and so I do duck,
for I do not need
His black-cat luck.
by Old Salfordian
I am invisible
I am invisible
Yet I can see everything you do
I can hear the lies slipping from your tongue
As you leave me a voice mail
This is second nature to you
Trapping the naïve requires no effort whatsoever
I’m not surprised or shocked by this.
How dare you tell me I’m paranoid
That I’m making false accusations
How dare you mess with my mind.
I am invisible
I watch as you spin your web of deceit
I’m not upset or angry
I have no animosity towards you
I feel a sense of calmness and strength
Now I can walk away from you
I am free.
Goodbye.
by Callie
Sunday, 5 October 2008
Give and Take
Put it on the Jeremy Kyle
Show to punish it.
Jeremy Kyle would grind
My wrangling down
To snowy white dust
So that I could
Brush it away.
Give me a dash of complacency
To lie within my arguments
To give my opinions doubt
and reason,
So that they could be satisfied
With another person’s
Point of view.
by Peaches & Cream
To Fear
Right, Fear, today is the 22nd of September 2008
and I have come up with a strong decision
about what to do with you. For all these years
I have accommodated you in my life,
but today it is all going to end.
I am taking you to a place where I will disgrace you
in front of everyone. I will tell them that you are
a destroyer, tormentor, you are everything
that is bad, everything that I can’t even name.
Those who are going to be there will know
who you are and they will never accommodate
you because I will tell them the signs
and how you love to control.
For your own information, Fear, in your place
I have replaced you with Confidence.
It feels good to have Confidence.
by Christine
Would you believe it
Sporty was in the news with his medal on his long neck. The man who was sitting in the front of the crowd called up the 20 best animals in the Animal Olympics. There was a tiger, lion, dinosaur, giraffe, hippo, leopard, crocodile, snake, viper, venomous creature, lizard, adder, whale, elephant, horse, ass, deer, donkey, monkey, chimpanzee and Sporty.
by Catwoman
Life and Birth
I'm a survivor - one of the lucky ones.
I've made it here and I've come out strong!
A second chance I have been given
All thoughts of doom have now been riven!
I take each moment, each hour, each day
And on my knees I daily pray.
Thank you for this gift of life
I will not waste it come what may!
No more misery, pain or sorrow
I'll take with both hands another tomorrow.
Retirement
So life begins at forty I think to myself!
My life began at sixty and wasn't due to wealth
Work is now a forgotten word
And in my life is never heard!
I laugh, have fun and time to play
Perhaps I'll visit a friend today!
I can stay at home and do what I like
Or get my boots on and go for a hike!
I wake up each day feeling inspired!
Oh what joy since I retired!
by Von
Saturday, 20 September 2008
Invisible...
I have dreamed many times of being invisible. I suppose this can be interpreted as an anxiety situation. For instance, I often go out from my office at lunchtime and get lost trying to find my way back. I ask people for directions or get on and off busses and nobody seems to see me.
I eventually find my way back to the office and sit back down at my desk. After what seems like many hours, feeling guilty and used, it dawns on me that nobody has even noticed the fact that I am missing at all!
I don’t fancy the idea of actually being invisible. I don’t want to be an eavesdropper on private conversations or have people talk about me thinking I am not there. I find it rather scary and not an experience I wish to undertake.
by Von
I am invisible
I am from the land of make believe
I live with fairies
I will have many dwarves
I will go to Memphis
I will travel all over the USA
I will be a millionaire
I will be famous
I will have a building society
Nobody will know my name
I won’t have a name
I will live in a castle
I will have a lot of children
I will be a monarchy
by Catwoman
I am invisible, that’s plain to see
What’s plain to see is you can’t see me
You can hear my breath and feel me there
When I’m touching your face, when I’m stroking your hair
No space do I take, no shadow do I cast
I am an empty vessel lying dormant in your past
I walk the streets the same as you
Some I recognise, most are new
When you laugh, cry, sleep, I am there in your presence
I linger around, consuming your essence
I am all alone, you’re with a new man
I may not be there, but here I still am
I am invisible, I became this way
The day your love died and you walked away
by Peaches & Cream
I cannot be seen, felt or heard. It is quite unnerving being able to see and hear but not be noticed. It feels as if people should be able to walk through me and not just pass by. I am experiencing a mixture of wonder, panic and apprehension. It seems in this state I could do almost anything, go anywhere. It is a sense of complete freedom and at the same time I feel the loss of not being noticed, of not being there.
If I cannot be seen then am I really there, or is it all my imaginings? Can I go to different places? If I can, how do I travel? Do I think of where I want to fo and then just appear there, or do I have to choose a mode of transport? Can I open a door? Can I climb steps? If I fall in water, can I swim?
This invisibility thing opens up so many questions.
I wonder if I will have time to do anything at all. Can I even move on my own? How will I move if I cannot walk? Will I float about? Will I still need to eat and drink, or will something else sustain me? This strikes me as being the ultimate in being alone.
by Old Salfordian
Sunday, 14 September 2008
Our Chip Shop - by Fay Wall
That sells the best fish n chips.
We drool as we queue
Saying 'I'm before you'
While patiently licking our lips.
There's a waft on the the breeze
Oh, hurry up please
The smell is driving me mad!
It flies up your nostrils and tickles your tonsils
And makes me want to add
A penn'oth of chips a penn'oth of peas
And don't forget the vinegar please!
The Pawnshop Window - by Fay Wall
It attracts my attention, oh the things I do see.
There are brooches and rings of silver and gold
Alarm clocks and watches, some very old
A Westminster chime with a shiny face
Placed high on a shelf in pride of place.
People's possessions once treasures of theirs
End up among the pawnbroker's wares.
A picture framed, a stag at bay
The Scottish hills look out on decay.
Silver spoons all tarnished and brown
The box inlaid with blue velvet
Says silver crown.
Three brass balls
Companions of poverty
That sum up bad days
Of pick pockets and squalor.
Fagin, Shylock, and others that follow
Humiliation and distress, when bad luck calls
One never knows which side the coin falls.
There's clothing made of satin and laces
Ladies stays with very long laces
All faded with age. Well I'm not amazed
They will have seen much better days.
Slippers for dancing from some happy feet
They are red and sparkle, still very neat.
Carpets and rugs rolled and tied with string
Stand like soldiers awaiting the king.
A genuine flying carpet with long tassels and fringe
Conjures up Arabian nights, oh no! It's been singed.
In the corner there's a fly in the dust, on its back
With its legs held high. It's buzzed its last buzz
In this mausoleum
Gone to a great place in the sky
Where no one will see him.
I am curious to know who would pledge
A hammer, a drill, and a thing for a ledge
Tools of a tradesman down on his luck.
Was there no work? To make a quick buck
What a sin
If he'd no money to redeem them again.
Every thing has a story to tell.
Open the door and ring that bell.
Humbled by circumstances
Beyond their control
There's not much money when you're on the dole.
To sell their treasures, they had but few
But such is must when the rent is due.
In this window, what do I see?
Mill girls and miners, I'm glad it's not me.
Shawls and clogs
It's the school of hard knocks.
The Mirror - by Fay Wall
It's a bit too high to see my face
Then I don't want to stand and stare
That's not the reason the mirror's there
It reflects the light and
Makes the room nice and bright
But that's not the reasons the mirror's there
It's a focal point for all to see
It's clear and round, it means a lot to me
It's a bit of old, a bit of new
A story I would like to tell to you:
The frame you see isn't new
When my parents wed in '22
Their wedding picture was in there
The bride and groom without a care
A wedding gift, a rosewood frame
For Fred and Mary there's none the same
The picture hung upon the wall
In the parlour down the hall
The family grew, a happy crew
but laughed at the style of year '22
The bombs and the blitz caused disaster
The picture fell with all the plaster
The glass was broke, the picture damaged
To restore it we could not manage
So the mirror replaced the picture
My reflection I care to see
I have a mental picture
of Fred and Mary smiling at me.