The Rat Race

The run up to Christmas always feels like a huge race to the finish line where I'm let down and exhausted and reminds me so much how it feels when I hyper manic. The continual racing thoughts, the need to do things, the need to keep moving to achieve things, my inability to remember what has happened and my lack of worry about everything and anything to the eventual crash into depression.  A rat race of frustrated rushing around without getting anywhere that seems to be fuelled by everyone and everything and yet no one and ends in the same way as if it is inevitable.

The rat race

Always moving on faster faster,

my head a jumble of the present and what’s next

a list of never ending proportions it  grows by the second

so much to do and times a wasting

My mind’s a racing, the next task, the next word,

what has been is lost , the incomplete abandoned to the past,

too much going on to remember, I run and run trying to keep up,

no time to sleep, to rest, to even breath

so much to do I cannot stop

The failures wrack up, the rudeness increases

too tired to keep going,  too spent to continue

the mind it races still, faster, faster

ever faster, pushing me forward, driving me on

‘til finally  no more, the mind it crashes and everything stops.

Changing face of life

I've always felt a bit strange about the way I look, not really been happy with the few extra pounds or  not so clear skin but I've never really hated the way I look. I might be a bit strange but it took years for me to notice that someone I know never looked in the mirror in fact couldn't look in a mirror but then I never saw why she didn't. In fact no one ever could because the reflection she saw was not what was in the mirror. I didn't get it but I kind of do now, my internal voice tells me I'm useless and I guess her's just told her she was ugly and it told her it enough times that she believed it. So this about how she changed and no one noticed.

The body beautiful

She looks upon herself with pride
a slip of a girl with flowing locks and cheeky smile
so confident surrounded by adoring friends she's radient and beautiful
the height of fashionable youth
she adjusts the frame and moves on

dressing carefully she drifts around unseen
until bent in close the room reflects and then her face appears
she fixes it and straightens disappearing again
at simple glance nothing's amiss but still she mouns a loss
her youth intact and figure true it's hard to see what's wrong

her clothes have hidden from the world all that is not right
but still she cannot acept the changes already made
they saved her life but change her heart and left her in pain
the scars have healed but confidence is lost

I thought we'd have more time

So poetry this week and something more of regret than anything else. A couple of years ago a friend on mine committed suicide. An act that brought great pain to many although I doubt he could ever have understood how much. In the last few months before he died he was was still working a full time job and it has struck me that actaully we spend an awful lot of time doing things we feel we should instead of the things that are important. This is about someone finding out in advance that life with a loved one could be over soon, much sooner than they anticipated



I thought we’d have more time
to laugh and joke
to share our loves and hates, fun and frolics
a Life time of doing things together
and now it seems there’s no more time
life distracted me and forever, might end tomorrow


I thought we’d have more time
for me to say how much I care
what fun I’ve had, what strength you’ve given me
to hold you tight and listen to your heart beat
to feel your warmth and give you mine
and now it feels like times been wasted
so much about the unimportant


I thought we’d have more time
that extra hour at the office
the time it took to make it perfect
all those times that you came second
I thought would disappear to nothing compared to time we’d have
and now it seems that’s all we’ve had


I thought we’d have more time
to say and do important things
to make a difference
so much neglected, forgotten, put on one side,
however can I put that right
I love you so, it’s time for you and me
I thought we’d have more time

Aren't you listening to me?

So this week it seems I've spent a lot time with people talking about hearing voices  and it made me think about all those times when I've thought I've heard something and yet no one else seems to have done. I was trying to illistrate that those inner deamons can become a bit too much and instead of them being just the voice of reason they can become monsters. So Aren't you listening to me is about a women who seems to not hear her friends nor understand them becuase there is just too much going on in her head that drowns them out.




Aren’t you listening to me?

 “Oh for petes sake just get on with something.”

 "Don’t take all day”

 “Can’t you do anything without me?”

 “Oh please is it really important? Can it wait?”

 Suzie shook her head in her hands as she screwed her eyes tight shut. Why wouldn’t they be quiet? She opened her eyes and looked at the people passing her table in the coffee shop. No one seemed to even look her way.

 “Come on it’s not that difficult you just have to try harder."

 “Seriously, you need my help with that?”

 “Suzie, really, other people are far worse off than you. Come on pull yourself together.”

 “Suzie?”

 “You’re never going to manage that.”

 “Suzie?”

 God why wouldn’t they leave her alone?

“So are you just going to sit there then?”

 Yes, yes she was because right now all she wanted to do was cry and hide in a hole. She was just too tired to even think about doing anything and things had been going so well to and then a little problem and it was all over. And now this barrage of abuse had started.

 “Suzie?”

 “Oh, what do you want?” She looked up and saw her mistake. The caring eyes that had greeted her had hardened and fixed into a glare. She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.” A tear slid from between her lashes as she looked back at the taught face of her friend Sarah. “I’m so sorry.”

 “Hummm, so how are you?”

 She looked at her taught and blank face. She couldn’t tell if this was a how’y’do? moment or a genuine tell me what’s going on moment. She stared into the space between them. “Not so good today.”

 “Not so good, blimey anyone would think you were dying the way you go on.”

 She forced a smile not even sure if it had been Sarah who had spoken. “So what can I do for you?”

 Sarah just stood and stared at her.

 She blinked, now was that Sarah who had spoken she wondered again. She couldn’t tell or was the stare becuase it was a strange thing to say given that she was sitting in a cafe drinking coffee, doing a crossword and hadn’t seen her friend in several days; but really what did it matter right now she was so tired.

 “Well you should have gotten to bed earlier then shouldn’t you?”

Now that had been her mother. She closed her eyes as she rubbed her temples. Maybe that would have been better but still would a couple more hours of restless nightmarish sleep really made today easier to bear? She thought not.

 “You know you can talk to me about anything don’t you?”

 She looked into Sarah’s concerned eyes and not for the first time wondered if she actually could. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell people, in fact it would be a blessed relief in some ways, the problem was what if she didn’t react well. What if Sarah didn’t believe her? What if..? Oh yes the, what if’s plagued her. Wouldn’t it be better to be sure of an understanding response before she said anything? Yet more questions, there were so many things going on in her head and yet they never felt as if they were just in her own head. It felt like people were talking and shouting at her, it felt like they were right here in front of her, she could hear their disapproval the tone of their voice and no matter how hard she looked around and saw that they weren’t it she always felt like they had been said.

 Sarah sat down next to her. “You do know that don’t you?” She paused to squeeze her arm. “It’s just you look like hell right now and I haven’t heard from you in ages, what’s going on, I’d like to help.”

 Suzie stared at the table. Help, that would be nice but what could she do? She looked up at her friends face. She sighed. “I’m not sleeping too well, lots of nightmares.” She shrugged.

 “She won’t want to hear about all that.”

 Sarah slumped a little. “Oh dear, anything in particular?”

 Suzie raised an eyebrow, “No just the usual; awake every hour or so.”

 “Whoa really!” She paused. “Ouch, no wonder you look washed out. How long’s it been going on?”

 Oh about, what fifteen years on and off.

 “Oh come on, everyone gets a few nightmares every now and again.”

 No she really couldn’t say that, it wasn’t like it had been constant every night all that time, it just felt like it right now. She propped her chin up on her hands.”A while.”

 “Oh come on it’s not been any time at all.” She sighed, why wouldn’t they just shut up for a bit? She rubbed her forehead.

 “Why don’t you go home and get some rest.”

 “That would be great however not really very likely.”

 “Why, do you know what’s causing them?”

 Suzie feasted on the look of concern in her friends face, a restorative to her waning spirit. “Not exactly.”

 “Oh please a few nightmares, what’s the big deal.”

 “I’m just a bit stressed I guess. I never do very well...” She paused as her friend had turned to look over her shoulder.

 “Sorry.”

 Yeah, you and me both. “I just don’t really cope well with change.”

 “No, none of us do really.” She got up. “Well hope things improve for you soon. Gotta go but we should catch up soon.”

 Suzie smiled. “Yes, we should.” And just as I was getting into the idea of telling you the whole story you’re not interested any more. Fantastic! People are just too damn busy.

 “Everyone has their own stuff to deal with; I mean what did you expect?”

 She sagged into her seat. Yes what had she expected, disinterest and no understanding, well she’d gotten that, or had she? Who knew when you had so much else going on it was difficult to tell. She picked up her drink and considered going home; at least she could lie down and close her eyes there. She sighed. Yes and then they would return, the phantoms in the dark, those ghostly beings that inhabited her dreams and scared her so without ever revealing who or what they were; maybe she’d wait a bit longer. Maybe if she was really tired they wouldn’t come and she would sleep well? And maybe she should make an appointment to see her doctor.

 “Oh please for a few nightmares, everyone gets them from time to time.”

 “Bother the doctor, what can they do? Nothing.”

 Well somebody needed to do something because she couldn’t go on like this much longer.

 “It’ll be better tomorrow, you just wait and see. Good nights sleep and you’ll be fine.”

 Really as if she didn’t know that and how exactly was she going to get that good nights sleep when you won’t shut up?

 Someone tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey there.”

 She jumped. “Hey.” She looked up.

 “Oooh you look like shit.”

 “Thanks.” She slopped her drink down on the table.

 “Sorry didn’t mean anything...you look rough, not been sleeping?”

 “Not much no.”

 “Oh you’re always asleep”

 Oh do shut up, god what I wouldn’t do for a break from you’re bloody disapproval. She looked at her friend and let her face drop into misery.

 “Oh dear, that bad.”

 “Oh I only wake up every other bloody hour.”

 “Oh come on, you’re exaggerating.” Her mother again, why did she always assume that something that sounded really bad couldn’t possibly be true.

 Her friend sat down. “Bloody hell, you need to go to your doctor. You can’t live like that.”

 She raised her eyebrows. “And what exactly are they going to do? Give me sleeping pills?”

 "Not the point and I’m damn sure they’ll do more than that if you tell them what’s going on.”

 She sighed deeply. “I doubt it.”

 “Well you can’t go on like this. What’s bringing it on, is work bad or...?”

 “Just stuff. Boss is a pain, my colleagues are nightmares, not getting out much, and everything is going a bit crazy, but nothing unusual, run of the mill stuff.”

 “Right well something’s going on.”

 Oh yeah something is going on but how do I explain the voices without sounding like a complete fruitloop?

 “Oh for god’s sake not that again, you’re just not paying attention ‘cause you’re tired.” Yup her dad had been a good one at ignoring the obvious too and exactly why he thought she would have reacted the way she did if she really wasn’t hearing and seeing things was a mystery but he’d certainly acted like he didn’t believe her. Her friend just sat watched her as she drank.

 “If it’s work then why don’t you take some time off? Get away for a bit, it might help”

 Suzie looked down at the table. “I’d only have to come back to it.”

 “But at least you’d have been away from it for a while and you might feel differently about it then.”

 She shrugged.

 “It’s worth a try.”

 Yes well she knew of old that it would improve things but only as long as she was away from it. Go back and it would start up again and she’d have to deal with it then so why bother. She shook her head. “It won’t help. I’ll have some peace and then I’ll have to go back.”

 Sarah frowned. “So you do know what’s causing it.”

 She sighed. “Yes and no, getting away from people always helps, not having to do or be places but it’s not always bad at work it can be anything. I just don’t know why it gets bad or why it goes away either.”

 “How long has it been going on for?

 “Oh years, ever since I can remember.”

 “What!”

 She looked up sharply her friend looked shocked.

 “Years?”

 She turned her drink round. “Yeah, it comes and goes.”

 “Then you should definitely tell you doctor. He could send you to a sleep clinic or something, get to the bottom of it. You need some help.”

 She looked up, her friend was so concerned but she really didn’t know the half of it. “Yeah like that will solve all my problems. It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

 “Well like how? Cause it seems quite simple to me. You go to the doctor and tell them what’s going on and get started at sorting it out.”

 Yes and in the process they might just lock me up, that or not believe me. Great I think I can do without that. She looked away from her friend. No one had ever helped before so why would they now just because she wasn’t sleeping so well.

That infernal cup of tea

Okay I've noticed a trend here...not really into finishing things. I will get back to some of it however this week I've written something else and this just a short little story to highlight how much people tend to hide things. It's possibly got a few typos and bad grammar since this is not my strong point but hey it's finished, at least.



“Sally…”

 She looked up at her boss and the woman standing in front of her desk expectantly.

 “Could you get us a cup of tea?”

 Her heart raced and her vision fogged. There was her father, a much younger man with is hair sticking out on end, his eyes ever so slightly wild and dishevelled, lit up against the threadbare curtains of her childhood home. She blinked, her boss and female companion swamp into view. She took a deep breath and felt the tears well, her shoulders tense and she backed away from the request. “What kind of tea would you like?” She sounded normal and they didn’t seem to notice anything.

 “Normal, white with one sugar, thanks.” They smiled.

 They always smiled it didn’t mean anything, her father had smiled. She took a deep breath and stood up, her hands were shaking and clammy. She smiled. “Sure, back in a minute.” Her legs quivering, head down she walked the dirty hallway of her childhood. She shook her head, this was work; the floor was a grey carpet, the walls clean cream and the wide open plan office had alcoves for desks with people going about their business. The kitchen was empty and she sighed as she reached for the kettle and stopped, frozen. The kitchen back home had been sparse and she could always hear what her father had been doing in the next room. The banging and crashing of furniture and cupboard doors and here was no different. She could hear the office at work, people annoyed and frustrated loud and intrusive, would any of them find her and want to talk?

 “Where’re you going for that tea, China?”

 She looked up and saw the shadow of a man so much taller than her. She couldn’t see his face but she didn’t need to, he was stiff, slightly leaning down towards her, one arm on the door the other on the frame, one foot through it blocking the doorway with his leg. She blinked, he was gone and there was the office and her desk neighbour standing in the doorway with her mug.

 “You okay?”

 She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Yeah I’m fine.”

 Her colleague moved towards her.

 She jumped back.

 “Sorry.” She stopped moving. “Are you sure you’re alright.” The colleague put her mug down.

 She sighed. “Yes I am fine, I’m just not having a great day.”

 “Oh dear.”

 She pulled a face and the colleague turned and left.


Oh why, oh why is this such a problem, it’s just a cup of tea for a client? She put the kettle on and then got out a cup and teabag, sugar and milk and then stood waiting for the water to boil. Her face quivered and a tear dripped onto the counter, she closed her eyes. Her father was standing in front of her, his face screwed up like he’d just tasted something foul.

“You’ve left this too long, it’s stewed.” He paused. “God I can’t trust you to do anything right.”

 Her vision swam she could hear him.

 “It’s pathetic; anyone with half an ounce of intelligence could do this, but not you.”

 She could see his face, the set of his eyes and feel the heat of anger coming off him just before he threw the mug full of tea at her. How it had burned. “Get me another and get it right this time.”

Time and time again she’d tried but she never got it right. How long had it taken for her to realise that she would never make a good cup of tea? Months? But it hadn’t changed a thing, every time she’d wanted this to be the time she’d get it right; the time the tea would be okay and he’d just drink it and not say anything, but it had never happened. So many scolding cups had come back at her that she had gotten into the habit of ducking and hiding to avoid them but that had only made it worse. “You do this to me deliberately; you’re trying to poison me.” If only I had the courage she’d thought, I could be rid of you, rid of this torture.

 The kettle boiled. Would she get it right this time? She dunked the bags in each mug, added the milk and sugar and stirred them both. She picked them up and the tea sloshed over the sides. She cleaned them up and tried again, her hands shaking. She stood still as her heart raced; she was never going to get them through to the office without spilling them. Her eyes shut tight and tears slid between her lashes. She put the mugs down and took a deep breath. She could do this, she just had to concentrate. She thumped the counter, opened her eyes and picked up the mugs. This time it would be okay.


The office door was shut so she took a deep breath and put her elbow to it and gently nudged it open. The conversation stopped and she smiled her eyes fixed on the tea in front of her. Only a metre to go, steady now you can do this. The mugs down she didn’t wait for any acknowledgement she turned and fled shutting the door behind her she headed for the bath room and didn’t stop until the door was safely locked behind her. She sat down on the loo and put her head in her hands and shook as the tears flowed. When had this become such an ordeal?

 And why was it still such a big ordeal? She’d stopped making tea for her father such a very long time ago and yet the memory lived on. “What are you snivelling about? Anyone would think there was something wrong with you?” His voice again it would not leave her alone. “Go away. For God’s sake just go away.”


“Excuse me for being concerned!”

 She scrambled off the loo. “Oh jeeze sorry not you.” She opened the door. The woman standing there was wide eyed and half turned to go out. “God I’m sorry I...” How could she explain? “I’m having a bad day, I’m really sorry.”

 “Right, bad day.”

 Her shoulders slumped and she looked at the floor. “I just…have a…” She shuddered.

 “Hummm…”

 She wiped her face. “I’m fine.”

 The lady nodded slowly. “Okay I just wondered if there was anything I could do?”

Not ask me to make another cup of tea sprang to mind, but then that would require an explanation, a very painful and personal explanation that would almost certainly result in them asking what the big deal was or even worse telling her to just get over it. She smiled, straightened herself and replied. “Nope, I’m okay now. Thank you.”

Losing ones identity

A long time ago I saw a competition witht he theme identity and I thought about it a bit and then started writing this piece about a man who feels he's lost himself, who is and no body even notices. The competition came and went and I didn't get the piece finished but now it's about time I did. This is the first part (not going to call it half as it will probably not be) of this story I entitled
 Identity? What identity

The house is quiet as Richard opens his eyes. He stares at the ceiling and listens to his wifes’ breathing, slow and steady. She moves slightly pulling the duvet with her. He turns his head towards the clock, five o’clock. Damn, far too early to get up, besides what do I need to get up for these days. He looks over at Sara still asleep next to him. Yeah what did he have to get up for, it wasn’t like she’d even see him over all the things she had to do before she rushed out the door. She didn’t even see what he did when she got home. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something happy, something to make him want to get up, but nothing came to mind.

The alarm sounded and he jolted awake, slammed his hand on the snooze button. Damn, time to get up.
Sara moved and groaned. Looked at the clock and then lay back. “ummph, you awake?”
Richard didn’t answer.
The alarm sounded again. “mmmph, I’m getting a shower.”

Richard lay still and silent as she got out of bed and shuffled off to the bathroom. He turned onto his side so she couldn’t see his face. It wouldn’t be long before he had to get up, had to speak to her and be sociable. She would want to talk to him, tell him what needed doing today and she would want a reply; she never seemed seem to care about what the reply was but she would want him to say something.

Another alarm went off, Laura’s probably; she was usually up before Courtney. Courtney tended to hang to bed. “Rich, you need to get up now,” said Sara

“Yeah will do.” He didn’t move and listened to her opening and closing draws and the wardrobe, and pulling on her clothes. She sat down on the bed. Now he had to get up.

Richard could hear the radio and shower as he dressed. Sara had already gone down stairs as he pulled on a jumper and started towards the landing. He knocked on Courtney’s door. “Come on, up you get.” There was no reply.

Sara pulled bowls from the dishwasher and then cereal from the cupboard, milk from the fridge; she seemed oblivious to his presence. She looked up briefly and then poured cereal into two bowls. “Morning.” She passed one over and sat down.

Yeah morning, thought Richard, but didn’t speak.

Sara was writing a list as she ate her cereal. “Don’t forget you need to pick up Laura from practise this evening at four thirty.” She ate more cereal. “You forgot the soap powder and shower gel yesterday.” She scribbled on her pad, took a mouthful of cereal and put the bowl in the sink. She’d barely eaten anything. “Don’t forget Courtney needs a lift to Rebeccas’ after school.” Sara was unloading the dishwasher. “We need some more bread and tomatoes. You should have got them when were shopping yesterday. Don’t forget to mow the lawn.”

At eight she paused and called up the stairs to Laura and Courtney to hurry them, then she started to load the washer.

“I can do that, you sit down.” Richard called form his seat at the table.

She continued loading the washer “We need to eat early tonight Trish is coming over.” She went into the hall and shouted, “Laura Courtney, you’re late, now come on you’ll miss the bus.”

Richard looked at his watch. “It’s all right I can give them a lift on my way in if they miss it, it’s not a problem.”

Sara pulled a disgusted face. “Don’t be stupid, they can go on the bus that’s what it’s for.” She looked at her watch, “Shit I’ve got to go. Here,” she thrust a piece of paper at him and started putting on her coat. “I don’t have time to explain. Don’t forget the car is being serviced.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, shouted up the stairs, “Get a shift on, you two I want tell you again”. Without looking around she walked out of the house.

Richard looked at the paper, yet another list of things she wanted him to do or to get, reminders about lifts and things he’d forgotten. Great now she can’t even be bothered to ask me to do things he thought as he pocketed it. “Come on you two.”
The girls came down the stairs, Laura oh so fashionable and Courtney barely awake. “What’s the fuss, we’ve got plenty of time,” said Laura as she passed him on the way to the kitchen.
“Sure, if you want to arrive for second lesson you are,” replied Richard. “Come on you’ll miss your bus.”
“Thought you were giving us a lift.”
He rolled his eyes. “Just hurry it up you haven’t missed your bus yet.”
Laura smirked and started to pour cereal into a bowl.
Oh yeah she was going to be late now wasn’t she.
She lifted a spoonful towards her mouth as she said, “It’s not like you’ve got to be anywhere.”
“Hurry up.”

Going for a swim part 2

Okay so this is part two of this story and it's still lacking an ending but again I'd rather get it out there than leave on the computer. In this part we move on from the question of suicide to how people react to depression and in this case we meet her partner who has been worried since she disappeared.
Part 2

She looked at her feet.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He shuffled his feet and turned away from the lake.
“No I’m sorry.” She turned to him. “I was just...”
He stopped mid step and turned back.
She looked back to the lake. “I was just thinking about going for a swim.” She smiled. “It looks so peaceful...”
“And cold. Brrr. You’d freeze in there this time of year.”
That was the point she thought. “Maybe.”
“No maybe. It’s sodding cold most of the year, but right now it’s... brrr.” He shivered.
She watched his face. Not a clue, good just as well. “Yeah well I decided not too.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not real good at rescuing people.” He frowned, as if he wasn’t sure if she had decided.
“So what are you doing up here? It’s a long way from anywhere.”
He sighed. “Needed a walk, bit of peace and quiet; this seemed like the perfect place.” He shrugged.
“Yeah and then here I was to spoil it of you.” She turned away from the water and motioned forward with her arm.
He started to walk with her.
“Spoil it? No, bit of a surprise though. Not many people come up this time of day. A few dog walkers, maybe a guy with a camera, but that’s all.”
“Well I can see why.”
She stared as a running man came into sight. “An occasional runner too, huh!”
The man smiled. “Not so much. This place has quite a reputation, not welcoming for people.”
She followed the runner with her eyes. “Really?”
“Yes, a few years ago the police were all over this place looking for burial sites.” He looked down. “Some local man killed a few people and buried then out here. Never really got why he killed them but having found severn graves, people have kept away.”
“Whoa...!”
“The sad part is that they think there may be some others out here somewhere but the guy isn’t talking. Only admitted to two of the seven as it happens, the police just found the others while they were looking for them.” He sighed.
She looked at him now, his face taught and strained. “Someone you knew?”
“Humm?” His eyebrow rose.
She waited.
“Not really.”
The runner had speeded up and was heading straight for them.
Not long now she thought. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah me too.”
“Cora, blimey,” the runner panted, “I wondered where you’d got to?”
She pulled a tight smile. “Sorry I didn’t mean to worry you, I just needed to get away.”
“Hi”
“Hello.” The man watched as the runner caught his breath. “Life goes on.”
She sighed. How many times had she not wanted it to? One moment it seemed like the end and then something happened and her attention was drawn somewhere else and then life was continuing and she hadn’t even realised that it had moved on.”Yes it does, it’s just a shame it isn’t a bit easier on us.”
He smiled.
The runner watched her closely. “Damn shame.” He paused and looked at her companion. He looked back at her. “Feeling any better?”
“Little bit.”
“I should get on. It was nice to meet you.” He stepped away.

“Yes you too.” She watched him take a few steps then turned to the runner. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear. I just needed some peace.”
He squeezed her arm. “It’s okay, but next time, please tell me you’re going. I was looking everywhere. And why here? Of all the places you could go why here?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think there’d be anyone here.”
He blinked. “No, not really populated out here is it? but then what would have happened if you’d gotten into trouble?”
She sighed and started to walk. “Well I didn’t, did I?”
“Not really the point.”
“Oh give it a rest Nev, I’m alright, no harm no foul.
The man stopped walking. “You really don’t get it do you? God we love you, we’d miss you and when you disappear it’s like it’s already happened. Like you’ve already gone and we’ll never get you back. I daren’t leave you alone because it might be the last time I ever see you and I can’t stand that. I can’t stand to think of it being the last time.”
She stopped walking. “And yet strangely you never seem to be with me when you are here. You’re with someone, but it’s not me, I don’t recognise her. You treat her like a child that needs to be looked after, like this week end was what I wanted. All the people, all the old memories...everything was what I wanted. Well it wasn’t, it wasn’t what I wanted at all.”
“I don’t treat you like a child.”
“Yes you do. Look at you coming out here, making this trip and you made such a big deal about doing this for me, organising it with them and yet you never asked me if it was what I wanted.”
“There you’re family.”
“Right so of course I want them running my life. Listening to endless reasons why I should be happy, why it was for the best, doing everything for me and then complaining that I never get off my backside. Yes of course that’s exactly what I want. God why can’t you see that all I need is sometime to feel shit for a bit. To work things out for myself and God help me spend some time alone with you so we can talk.”
Nev stopped walking. “We do nothing but.”
“Oh yes of course you do. But what about me, since when I have I had anything to say that you’ve cared to listen to. You’re all about telling me what to do, how to feel better but not once have actually sat and talked about how I feel, about how you feel? You’ve just run around like nothing has changed, like you’re still happy and everything is right with your world. Jesus you gave my feelings all of three seconds for me to feel better and then started telling me how to be happy. What to do to achieve it. God just give it a break, it’s takes time.”

Going for a swim

Okay so it's been a while and although I've had lots of ideas I haven't really gotten down to the nitty gritty of actaully writing, big suprise! My excuse, life has kind of been getting in the way...terrible I know, so here's my latest offering. It will eventually be longer than this, however I thought I'd get this part out of the way as I've actually written it.... oh dear the story of my life at the moment, anyway to the story.
Going for a swim brought about in part from past experiences and conversations with friends, the idea was to explore peoples darkest moments, and how they can change from despair. Cheery huh!  Oh well never mind...

Going for a swim

The woman was sat on the end of the wooden pier looking out at the inky black water that stretched away in front of her. The wildlife glided through the mist silently. She didn’t move, didn’t blink as the swans passed within inches of her. She just sat her face blank, slack, her eyes sunken as the water lapped on the uprights beneath her.

Her face rippling slightly in front of her she wondered what it would be like to dive in, to swim away from here. The water would be cold, it would make her heart pound, push the blood through her veins and warm the chills she felt. Maybe she could swim out and just keep going, let the water take her away from here. The cold would suffuse her skin and numb her from her extremities first, then push further through her. Would it penetrate deep enough to remove the pain? Would it take her away from here and give her the peace she was looking for? Let her slip away beneath it’s surface.

The wamp, wamp, wamp of wings flapping hard, followed by the sound of splashing brought her head up and her eyes fixed on the swans as they tousled and flapped in dispute in front of her. She blinked and tears rolled from her eyes and she looked down. Her mouth flickered in movement and then settled back.

No that was how it would be. The cold water would hit her warm innards and it would fight, it would gasp for breath despite her, it would fight so hard that warmth would return to her limbs and she would swim again. She repositioned her arms in her lap and let the tears fall. Why could she not give up, why would her body not let her die?

She did not hear the footsteps on the wood, nor the creaks or movement of the boards under her as the man approached. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She shuddered and caught her breath.

“Sorry. I...” he trailed off.

She half smiled and then returned her gaze to the water.

“I can’t resist coming here when it’s like this. It’s just so peaceful, no one around.”

She looked up at him; half smiled and then turned back to the lake. The inky water was not moving but as she looked out the reflection of the cloudy sky and then snowy peaks of the hills behind drew her attention. The sun was so low in the sky that the light was still pink and golden from sunrise. Yes it was beautiful here.

“It’s great place to contemplate the world.” He smiled.

Yes contemplation, isn’t that why she had come to do, to contemplate things.

“Brrr... it’s pretty cold to be sitting down though. I’m surprised you aren’t frozen.” He stamped his feet. “Penny for them?”

She looked up.

His weathered face, looked down at her, his gaze steady.

She looked back to the water and then to the swans, now calm and serene, and didn’t know what to say.

Performance Anxiety

I think most poeple worry a little bit about whether they will be able to do what they are seeting out to, for some it's much worse and their fears can become so overwhelming that they don't even try; convinced that it won't matter they will always fail. This poem was trying to capture what might promote this from the inside.

The laughter ringing in my ears
the jeers and insults flowing
Oh come on, that’s awful, you didn’t even try
why ever did you think that good?

My heart explodes with pain
I’m embarrassed, disappointed and ashamed
no matter how hard I’ve tried
the hope that spurred me on now dashed
battered and obliterated
the pieces, shards of glass,
unseen and yet embedded, a rash of painful splinters
why ever did I think I’d been good?

So desolate and lost, there’s nothing to be done
no sitting still accepted, I’m not allowed to stop
yet all the while I fail
why ever do I bother?

So to the next what shall I do, however shall I choose
my head it rants and rages so and all before I’ve started
a torrent of past anguish, resentment and despair
life without fulfilment where I’m never any good
why ever do I care?

Big brother and I!

I think many of us feel we've been overshadowed by others, whether the elder brother, the baby sister, the sucessful cousin... or whoever it may have been. What is said shapes how we think others see ourselves and ultimately to how we see ourselves. Often this can be good however not always. I remember from my childhood that I was always compared to someone else, or to something else and so I wrote this as a comparison between  a brother and sister. The intention was to show what she saw and heard rather than tell.

My Big Brother
I was good at maths, but he was ace at science
I enjoyed my art but he was fantastic at sport
I kept to myself but he had lots of friends
he had such energy while I got tired too quick
he was neat and smart and sophisticated, I was just a scruff that tried hard
he did things that they enjoyed, thought good and admired
I did things that scared them
he was talented and driven, achieved so much so fast,
I just plodded on
he bought a house at 23, while I still studied hard
he married and divorced before I even settled down
he borrowed fast, paid back slow and I just made my own
he played fast and loose, while I worked hard
he lied to all and I was honest to a fault
he exceeded all their wildest dreams and I did as expected
he was the apple of their eyes and I was just a girl.

The Nature of obsession

It's been a while and strangely I have been writing but nothing seems to have come up to snuff. This time I have a collection from a competition I entered at Slough Writers group. Three short poems about obsession. The idea for each was to voice a way of looking at obsession rather than a particular obsession and try to promote the feelings of the person suffering from it. Each poem has a different take, the first Road to recovery was a simple look at how you could become obsessed, what happens when it takes over and then once it's under control how they lived with it knowing what has been.

Road to Recovery
Unseen the loss of will
it hides within the ritual
I’m willingly enslaved
 
My life is full of patterns,
they encroach upon my happiness
I can’t continue as I am

A slow and painful process
I despair of being free
will always watch myself

This the second,
Bondage
Another knot, another loop, pull it tight
to feel secure, held, protected
the rope is my comfort.

It tugs as I move, my body aches,
restricted, my soul it weeps
that I so bound myself

I struggle to unravel it, to untie myself
to reach the knots that bind
I beg for release

Another knot, another loop, pull it free
I breathe easier, slowly emerging
the marks of bondage remain

drew on the reason why someone might become obsessed and what the obsession might do for them both good and bad and was aimed from the child growing up and how once they have become entrenched in what they were doing to survive found they were the one that was suffering and the pains it took to start the journey to be free of it.

Okay Number 3 is different again and is more of an adult outlook where someone has already recognised their obsession and is desperately trying to free themselves from the outset. It was trying to look at the way that although we may wish to be rid of our behaviours we can miss what we're doing and end up in the same position as if we hadn't even tried and frustrated that we lack the insight to achieve our freedom.


A life of vicious circles

Down a road you have not travelled
the end is still unseen
the people and the places change
the feelings stay the same.


It ends upon that same crossroads;
a place of torment and despair.
you whip around and see your path
more clearly seen from here.


You see the choices that you made
and how they brought here
you see the veil that you pulled
but not the reason why

I'm not really sure any of them really worked. The line count was very restrictive so I might have another go at them and make them longer.

You won’t be sad forever.

I guess from my point of view it’s good to remember this and so very often I forget it. I feel so very much encased in the moment that the rest of my life feels as if it’s always been and will be the same. It won’t of course but it can feel that way. I guess I’m not alone in bouncing from one end of the scale to the other, nor in not understanding why but it seems that many people do not.

The void within so pressurised

it throbs and aches
indistinct and everywhere
intangible the cause
enveloped in the mist,
a sensory deprivation, it confuses
indecision is the norm
so desolate without hope
ever present and forever more
 

The smiles come back

they flick and flash upon your face
without reason or endeavour
unbidden they arrive
caught unawares you laugh
relaxing never knowing how
to err or doubt is absent
once defeated, now invincible
as always and forever more

Wild sea winds

So yet another poem... you must be thinking that the book has died a death. Well no it hasn't but I feel it's in need of  bit of reworking so have taken some time to write a few poems instead while it gets a brush up.

Last week-end we went down to the coast. It was bright sunny day lovely and hot and absolutely gorgeous is so many ways. Then we stepped out of the car and found that it had hidden us from the wind and despite the lovely sun it was still rather cold for shorts. This is a short piece about being on the coast a place I love because of the moods the sea can have.

Wild sea winds

Eyes staring out to sea

a brisk wind freezing the face
greyed cotton wool clouds
hang low buffeted by the sea
waves of growling frustrated toddlers.

Crashing into the beach
their white crests, peaks of wrath
pounding the pebbles
inching closer to me

Turning, I walk on

the going is slow
stones sliding underfoot
my steps deliberate, meaningful

Locked into the past

I guess there are times when I feel I've been here before. Deja vu if you like but deeper, not just the actions or speach but the feelings and my behaviour to and whole scene repeated. Well this feeling of time repeating is part of what I'm trying to say, the other part is how it can feel when your behaviour is limited by the past by what has gone before something that you cannot escape. So

Locked into the past

You live and relive the past

it is now and yet still then
your old self, the child not grown
unaltered by time, emotions still cycling
life changes yet repeats
you echo what was

Your fear confines and defines you

a cycle created by others, maintained by you
you suffer your past and call it your present
you never move yet hate what’s around
denying the truth, you blame all but yourself
for your past that's still present

Being Overwhelmed

I guess most of us have felt overwhelmed at some point, whether it be through nerves or fear, however for some life is always overwhelming and everything that happens can feel like it's going to do that. So overwhelmed could be just another day in the life for someone who fears what might happen next.

Falling ,floating

places people go past so fast
whizz around and come back again
turning, twisting, slowing briefly
then speeding away
nothing ever the same

Connecting and separating so fast
warm and then cold
full and then empty
rushing forward doing everything
no time to rest, to feel safe

Coochy coos and raspberry kisses

So still working on the poetry... and this is one that might need a lot of work to remove all the cheezy sayings and such but hey I was feeling good.

Coochey coos and raspberry kisses

Tickle bellies and peek-a-boo
The cuddles and abandoned sleep
Those loving feelings the world can see
A time that passes instantly
 
Such times of failure and first steps
Strong wills exerted and cheeky grins abeam
Hugs and sloppy kisses, and hourly triumphant dances
A time that passes quickly 

Of independent thought and mind

Of strikings out and retrenchments
Of first loves and of losses
And more permanent achievements
A time that passes by

A loss of youth, of innocence and thought

A loss of honest openness just business and choice,
Redundant consults in their lives, a time where comments’ passed.
Small need to praise or be proud
They’re self assured and confident
Their lives have moved away
A time that changes you 

Though now apart they hear you still

Those murmurings of love and faith, of confidence and pride
Your ghostly comments still abound inside
Father and son, past and present, intermingled all

A time that never dies

Monsters in the dark

So this week I have been more interested in writing poetry than I have working on the book. Unfortunately everthing that I've written is incomplete in my eyes I 've picked one that I wrote a while ago that feels finished. I guess with some poems it's obvious what they are about and with others it isn't. I like to write things that make you think, make you work a little to understand what the poet is going on about and this is one of those.

Monsters in the Dark.

Sunshine pouring down

they are there

in the dark spaces

stalking their prey,

who night blinded

do not see and

scorn their existence

They’re ghosts in my vision

menacing spectres

ready to strike

Hyper alert I jump

at noises and shadows

sure those monsters are there

ready to fight

To avoid my death

I expend great energy

watching waiting.

the mists of Nyx roll in

the monsters invade

a plague upon the earth

The end inevitable

I wait, vigilant

light is their enemy

till it is gone, they wait

just out of sight

until sleep overtakes me.

Poems for all

Okay so I'm not really good at poetry and neither meter nor rhyme are things I take the time to practise however I like pattern and form and I tried to give this both. No title yet and somehow I doubt there ever will be.

The world it shouts so in my head

my eyes they never capture all
I tire of the stimulus
too bright, too fast, too loud, my head is overcrowded
I cannot turn it off

To blink and have things disappear

I respond when no one’s been there
I am not keeping up
miss heard, miss timed, miss understood, my head is so confused
I wish for it to stop
 

For now I question everything

so strong my feelings, put on hold
I wish to lose control
I rant, I rage, I respond, my head it finds some peace
I feel free at last

The world it closes in to take control of me
to bring me down and make me safe
I hate it that it tries
afreak, a dunce, a devil, my heart it wants to die
I do not care for life

I wake to find myself enslaved

now chained to life without a choice
I think but I am not
they prod, they poke, they question me, a puppet made to dance
I mind my words again

I lay my head with Clozapine

and wait to see what change it makes
I resent the time it takes
I sleep, I drool, I shake, and eat my weight in food
I want it to be gone

Encased in cotton wool I live

aslower, duller, flatter life
I wait for energy
no ghosts, no noise, no extra things, a life so ordinary
I learn to live again

Kates Friends part 8

She closed the door behind Rani and went back to the sofa. It was weird having someone in her home. It didn’t happen very often. She picked up the leaflet and flicked through it to the arts section. Maybe she could do one of these courses, it would improve her drawing, but how big were they? Five, ten people maybe more. She grimaced and put it down. She sat staring out the window for a while wondering if she would ever do the things she wanted to. It just seemed that every time she started to do something she wanted that people would make life so difficult. Either it was her family showing up or her friends or even strangers and then she would lurch from one mess to another and then down she would go, well not this time. This time she was going to make it all work out. Well hopefully. All this worrying was making jittery, it was time to do something. She still needed some milk she could go and fetch some at least that would get her out of the house for a bit.

She grabbed her coat and purse and headed out and having shut the door she turned head down and walked straight into someone. “Sorry!”

“Oh hey there, watch out.”

She looked up into her frowning neighbour. “Sorry” He looked pale with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that stared at her. “Sorry.” He didn’t move.

“Yeah well never mind.”

She stood still not sure whether to speak or not.

“Tara said your place wasn’t too bad.”

Kate hesitated he was still staring at her. “Well not so bad. Could have been worse.” She shrugged and looked at the wall past his shoulder.

“Humph! Yeah well he trashed my place. Pretty much everything was broken.” He turned away and started down the stairs. “The police weren’t at all helpful. No chance of getting the people who did either, but I suppose you know that.”

She watched him down the first few steps and then followed him. “Yeah well, they found some of my things out the back fields so they may get something on them.”

He stopped short and turned back towards her. “They found your stuff?”

“Well some of it.” She shrugged and looked down at the steps.

He blinked and shook his head. “Typical. I lose everything and you get all your stuff back. I could have predicted it. They didn’t even seem interested in what was taken.”

“Yeah well my stuff wasn’t worth anything.”

“Humph!” He stomped down the last few steps. Strode out the door and let it slam behind him.

She blew a long breath out and then walked after him. The breeze was cool on her face and the small amount of sun felt good. She turned her face towards the sky and closed her eyes. Right and now for the shops. The short walk was all she needed and as she entered the little corner shop a smile was on her face. The shop keeper looked across to her and raised an eye brow and nodded to her as the door closed behind her. He then turned his face back to the lady in front of him. His voice carried to her in the tiny shop. “Yes well, I can’t say I’m sorry that he was done over.”

“Really?” Replied the woman.

“Well he has all sorts of people coming and going, and at all hours. I pity his neighbours with the likes of some of them that come to call.”

“Blimey, that bad.”

“From what I hear, very much so.”

Kate walked up and down the rows not really looking at the shelves.

“Between you and me I’d say there was something very wrong going on. And by very wrong I mean illegal.”

Kate picked up some milk.

“Well, no one has that many visitors and for a postie he sure had a lot of money to throw around.”

She frowned. Postie? Who were they talking about? She had thought it was her neighbour but he wasn’t a postman. Had someone else gotten burgled? She picked up some jaffa cakes.

“Oh is that what he does?”

“Yeah well there’s no way he could afford that sports car on that salary. It’s just a shame that his neighbour was done over too.”

“Really the neighbours too, like the ones up here?”

“Yeah and it isn’t a week since they were done either. I can’t believe it really but there does seem to be quite a run of them; although that was a bit weird too, and then there were the other two from just over the park. I keep thinking I should improve the security around here but there really isn’t anything I can do. Even the busybody neighbourhood watch group didn’t see anything. All those old dears curtain twitching and there doesn’t seem to be any stopping it.”

“I didn’t think St Marks Road is part of the neighbourhood watch?”

“Where isn’t these days, but come to think of it you may be right. Well they soon will be I guess.”

The woman put some of her shopping into her bag before replying. “Well maybe with these burglaries we’ll get some policing done around here. It’s not like we don’t all know what’s going on. I mean the park is a state I daren’t take my girl there anymore you never know what you’ll find.”

“Yes well maybe they’ll get the people responsible now.”

Unlikely, thought Kate, that was a problem that wasn’t going to go away just because there were more police around. She waited with her few things as the guy rang up the last of the womans’ items.

“Oh hi, be with you in a minute.”

She smiled.

“Yeah sure, you do know the clear up rate for burglaries is virtually nil, don’t you?”

“Oh come on, they can’t not. These guys are doing it in broad day light. I mean look at this one. The guy was home by mid day and his girlfriend didn’t leave until eight and yours...” He nodded towards her. “Middle of the afternoon wasn’t it?”

The lady turned and looked at her.

She nodded. “So they think, but I was out all day.”

“They are going to catch these guys. People are going to see them at some point.”

The door opened and they turned to see a dark silhouette. “I won’t be second.”

Kate blinked, she recognised that voice, constable Perry?

The man pushed the door open and came through.

She stood still.

His eyebrow flicked up and down and smiled.

“Hi”

He walked straight towards her. “Hi, didn’t expect to see you again quite so soon. How’s the bike going?”

She nodded. “Good.”

“Just good huh.” He paused. “Well I guess that’s better than okay.”

“No really thanks, it saves me getting the bus, if you need it back it’s okay.”

He shook his head. “You don’t borrow things too often do you?”

She shook her head. “I try not to.”

“Well I’m just glad it helps. Anyway it shouldn’t be long before you get yours’ back.”

“Yeah lets hope.” She smiled.

“Getting some of your stuff back..?” asked shopkeeper.

“Yes the police found a pile of stuff, some of it was mine, so after they’ve finished with it I can have it back.”

“Blimey maybe there’s hope yet.”

“Yes we were lucky a group of kids found it the same evening. Guess they didn’t want it. We might get something from it, only time will tell.” He turned his full attention onto Kate. “So what are you up to?”

She blinked and shrugged. “Not much. Slow day for me.”

He nodded. “Well lucky you, I’m run off my feet.”

“Yeah I heard another couple of burglaries.” She nodded towards the shopkeeper.

“Yeah in St Marks road.” He looked at the man briefly and then turned his attention to the closest shelf. “I never realised Chalvey St Marks was such a hot bed of crime.”

“It isn’t usually.”

She watched as the shopkeeper started adding up items.

“It seems if it isn’t one thing it’s another.” Mat picked up some biscuits.

“Well that’s what we have you guys for, isn’t it?” Said the shopkeeper.

Mat looked at him. “Yes I guess it is but right now there’s been rather a run on burglaries, rather more than there have been in quite some time.”

“Humph.”

“Well I guess that’s the way it goes.”

“Yeah well the burglaries may be new but there’s been trouble for quite some time. The amount of druggies here abouts is soaring. You might want to get on top of that while you’re about it.”

Kate took a step back.

“We’re working on it and in the mean time if you see anything if you could report it to the station because the main problem is that we have nothing to go on.”

“Oh come on it’s everywhere.”

Mat shrugged. “Yes but without any proof or witnesses we can’t do anything. Look at this mornings break ins for instance, as far as we can tell it was done during quite a busy period and yet none of the neighbours saw anything. I mean not only is there a school on St Marks road but it’s also got several shops and the health centre and yet so far no one knows anything, no one saw anything. We still have a some places unaccounted for but realistically if no one comes forward then we have nothing to go on and it won’t matter whether we get fingerprints or not because without anyone to compare them to if they’re not in the system we won’t get them.”

“Humph.”

“What numbers?”

“Huh?”

“What numbers St Marks Road, it’s just I was running that way this morning...I just wondered which end?”

“Oh in one of the block of flats, 97 and 8.” Mat shoulders sagged a little as he turned to the shopkeeper. “It’s the same with the drugs too, no one seems to know anything. We know there are dealers hereabouts but without any proof we’re stuck.” He shrugged.

“Sure you always need people to come forward.” The shopkeeper turned his face towards Kate. “That’ll be six forty two thanks.”

“Well would you rather we just accuse anyone who was in the area?”

The shopkeeper shrugged

“Exactly, we can’t do that, we need probable cause and that means someone who saw something coming forward.” He turned to Kate “So you were running that way this morning, do you think you might have seen anything? It would have been just after nine we think.”

“Well I think that was about the time i was out. So maybe.”

“Anything would be a help.”