Mind over matter….

My bones are tired,
muscles ache,
The mind is fresh,
eager for information.
We share the same birthday;
not able to celebrate together,
the body, unwilling to join in;
an overbearing mind left
dancing to its own tunes.

The mind has no limitations:
excepting its body.
The body has many limitations.
including the mind.
Neither prepared to give way.

There are many yesterdays
of working together:
in harmony,
how many tomorrows,
will be full of conflicts.
not willing to co-exist.

A fork in the road
choosing different paths;
a body unable
to keep in step
with the mind;
grieving for what
cannot be.

With age comes
a lifetime of wisdom:
use it. Work together,
accept each others
restrictions.
We entered this life as one,
live as one; leave as one.

My Ode To Twitter…..

Oh Twitter just how hard can that be
It must be as easy as one, two, three.

choosing a handle that seemed to fit
poised for banter: to show my wit.

Being aware that things weren’t quite right
if nothing happened I was going to take flight.

A light bulb lit as I was about to flee
I had spent six months talking to me.

I started to follow and tweeted like mad
a couple of mentions, this wasn’t so bad.

I simply must get my head round the lingo
my brain now hurts so I’m off to the bingo.

The first ever retweet I thought I would cry
I did a lap of honour, then tried to fly.

The visit to casualty wasn’t so bad
apart from being officially recorded as  mad.

Minding my manners so not to offend
looking slightly simple: round the bend.

Gathering followers, I was getting ahead
ok, I know one of them was a garden shed.

Commenting on politics is fair game
giving my opinion of who is to blame.

Watching videos can be a blast
of deranged cats stuck up a mast.

Some dodgy followers were giving me flack
oh, I never knew you could do that on your back.

Wonderful followers: interesting folk
apart from the boring tooth fairy bloke.

I’m not obsessed, I can walk away
as I now take tablets, three times a day.

This simple ode is just about ending
I load up Twitter and see whats trending!

And they called it puppy love…

I never thought I was a “dog person” until the day this puppy arrived into the house.

Now this gorgeous animal was named Skye and from the moment she laid eyes on me: I became adopted.
Two weeks later our bond was cemented, as due to illness, I became her career. This was a very peculiar arrangement on two counts;
1) I was ill
2) I knew nothing about puppies.
My first peculiarity was an art or an obsession, I’m not sure which, and that was house training her.
My vast experience told me; if she squats: take her outside. This I did every time she sat down.
Now bearing in mind,
Point 1) illness! I ran around after her like a woman possessed and I spent more time outside than I did in.
The month was February and it was freezing; I must have looked a right clip, hanging around in my dressing gown, waiting for the damn dog to decide what blade of grass had the sweetest smell.
Eventually, I was reliably informed, that puppies do not have a bladder the size of Lake Geneva and only needed to spend a few seconds at a time having a wee.
From this moment we were a lean mean, well oiled peeing machine, more often than not; we were back, settled, with a cup of tea: before we had actually left the house.
The second peculiarity was an obsession: Skye had to learn tricks. Point 1) also had a bearing; as moving about on all fours trying to get the damn dog to a high-five, was not conducive to my well-being.
Nobody in this household has forgiven me for teaching the dog to chase the ball, go get it and chuck it back to you.

Please note: no animals were hurt during this house training lark: traumatised yes, but hurt: no.
Skye is very active (mental) and she can high-five (for food or a cup of tea)
She is obsessed with ball throwing.

A heart full of…

I feel my heart is empty; void of love
wondering why it bothers to beat at all.
Time stands still; my heart actually breaks
was it pining for lost love; or not chanced.
Feeling weak, unable to even lift my head
my heart starts a lecture of life: I listen.

I am full of life: it flows in your veins,
sharing that life with all that is within.
I am never empty as I am filled with
wonders every beating movement.
As you watch the day, I feel the joy
in what you see: I thrive on life,
whether it be a scene of beauty
or just observing the world go by.
When you read a book: so do I,
the prose dances to my beat.
Even in sadness I remain full,
look inside yourself: see what
remains to lift your spirits,
You are my life, as I am yours
accept the true joys in life.
I don’t control the mind: we beat
as one: we replenish each other.
The only state of emptiness occurs
when I beat no more, until that day:
I am full to bursting.

The beauty of rain…..

I stand alone in the middle of nowhere
hopping the rain can wash away my troubles,
as each drop falls I can feel them enter my mind.
A process begins as the storm intensifies,
I watch the lightning dance across the sky
embracing its power; I feel in contrast, calmness.
Magic rain renders me into a trance as it falls
I start to dream, as each drop burns my eyes
blinded; still able see beyond the storm.
I feel no cold as an invisible barrier protects
wrapping me up in a warmth that never ends
basking in the peace that the rain delivers.
An empty mind, cleansed, rejuvenated
I turn away leaving nowhere behind
heading somewhere; accompanied by the rain.

It doesn’t rhyme….

To my friend, who is still my friend; she inferred that poems are supposed to rhyme.

My dear friend there is no crime
if my poems do not rhyme.
Amazed that I am able to write
most is done to the dead of night.
I sit and think as words do flow
deep within; inside my soul.
The lessons of life I will share
my poems show how much I care.
All sorts of subjects I will try
they can be sad and make you cry.
This rhyming ditty is at an end
before  it drives me round the bend.
Just one more thing: a final thought
a fitting ending I have sought.
We both know what rhymes with rhyme
there is but one possibility: yes its wine.

There is rhyme and reason…..

Depression is often a taboo subject, where understanding is very thin on the ground. It is an illness; not a weakness. Many of those suffering; do so alone.

Even in brightness I cannot see
clouds of dark fog blankets my mind
accompanied by abstruse thoughts
only an opaque expression, motionless
an invisible shield that reflects radiance.

I sink deeper my mind controls me
functioning, without having to think
a living death; without day or night
will it possible to climb into the light
to gain momentum, touch the air.

I bathe in a concoction of chemicals
allowing my mind to drift on memories
the contentment vaporising the gloom
a falseness of the induced state
bringing respite but never peace.

Slowly my mind regains breath
consciousness flows into veins
tossing aside drugged driftwood
supported by nothing but my will
I touch daylight as it touches me.

The best circumstance, so peaceful
disrupted by overcast nervousness
fretting for what paths may lay ahead
unable to evade the bleeding thoughts
scarred, patched up: never repaired.

Savour the strength of translucent spirit
the wind may change; yes, there is hope.

Caring…..

I have learnt an awful lot from total strangers over the years. This subject has bought some of the most heartfelt conversations.

We care for those who once cared for us
nurtured, loved and kept safe from harm.
Tides turn leaving us the task we dread,
never fully understanding why this should be.
Looking in a mirror; the image reversed
clouding the cherished memories: broken.
Nothing prepares for causing distress,
unwittingly removing their dignity.
We see in them what we once were,
brings unbearable pain; a mental anguish.
United in our silent screams, both lost
waiting for the end; the final release,
not wanting that event to actually arrive.
The unknown is hard to endure,
but we willingly jump into that mirror,
nursing those whose life ebbs away;
unrecognised by them; just strangers,
often fighting for them to remember
instead of accepting who they became.
We give all that we can as time ticks on
we can make these moments precious.
Stop fighting the current: ride the waves.
reflection of the past will give solace
remember the present: it gives strength.

Drifting….

This was inspired by a conversation I had with a friend, who was struggling to understand why her marriage of thirty years had ended.

Where have you gone? I really don’t know
you are here with me but I’m so alone
failing to hear you when you speak
uninterested with any point or purpose.

When did our future become our past?
Is the past where we are destined to live?
the rut we fell into, suffocates our being
love is unable to breathe, choking us both.

Passion replaced by never-ending silences
happiness and joy, no longer desired
intimacy, a distant memory: never craved
we share only this pointless existence.

We shoulder blame for not being as one
aimlessly adrift, existing, not living
either unable or unwilling to change
the option to part is the option to live.

Sunset

The flaming sun throws out its fiery rays
commencing a raging red farewell to the day.
Spotlights cascading, lavishing the earth
creating a spectacle; a sky flushed with light.
Flames ignite, intensifying at the suns descent
flickering, dancing to an imaginary anthem,
the sunsets finale bursts into splendour.
Twilight dampens down the flames,
enveloping the remnants of embers,
stillness; as the dark awaits the moon.