Tomorrow’s Hope.
Tomorrow’s hope seems so far away
In the face of adversity, we shy away.
Do you succumb to pressures?
Do we stop living, accept our lot?
We live a short space of time
We can engage in the every day
Take it, as that’s how it is.
We can say fate intervenes
And casts a shadow so deep
There seems no light at the end.
We can imagine there is no tomorrow
That today is as good as it gets.
That pleasures are for others
The fortunate ones who take
Who never have to suffer, who don’t care.
But what if your tomorrow is all about hope
Of believing your life is change
That misery in keeping strange bedfellows
Also offers blinding hope.
That if we take it, the future is unclear
But if we don’t the present is the future
With all the pathetic angst we will rail against.
Tomorrow is hope, always hope
Never to be defeated by mediocrity
We look forward, see what we need
Step in that direction, take firmly
The hand that is extended.
Written for: https://therattlingbones.wordpress.com/2015/07/08/poetry-prompt-wednesday-14/
PAD Day 1 April 2
Foolish Poem
I woke up feeling foolish
But she got out,
Said: “I have to wash my hair.”
Went to the café looking foolish
She said “It’s all a mistake.
You curdle my coffee, goodbye.”
Sat in the bath being foolish
She said ‘Imitation is flattery.
But yours is just sad.”
Foolish stood on her high horse
Looked down her nose, scoffed,
Said: “You’ll never be good enough.”
Sweet young girl took pity
Came for lunch then ran for safety
No fool like an old fool.
Old fool foolish old fool
Sits in the park, memory is all he has
Wishful should be his middle name.
Surely you Jest!! April 2
If I jest I am I a jester?
Should I wear a funny hat
So you would hear me coming
A jiggling and a giggling.
I’d tell you my one favourite joke,
You know the one,
Just to hear you laughing
From deep within your belly.
I could stun you with a cartwheel
Roll my way across the room
A somersault to end it off
A star jump and a tah dah!
Or I could just tickle you
I know the spot where you are
Likely to squirm in hysterical delight
While I laugh with you
As you tickle back
You too know my susceptible bits.
But of course it’s all in jest
We laugh, as we do best
But love, as we most want.
PAD DAy 2 He Said She Said
He said he’d love her,
For better or worse
Said he’d be there for her
Through the good and bad
But then he said he didn’t love her
Said she was not affectionate enough.
She said she’d love him
For better or worse
Said she would bear his children
Love and care for them
She said she needed his help and support
Said she was exhausted at night needed rest.
He said I need time out
Time with mates, camping, boys stuff
She said the boys are a handful
I’ve not time to think.
He said I love my boys
We do father dad things.
She said baby is ill, throwing up
Boy 2 is naughty, broke a vase today.
He said I’ll deal with this later.
She said I need you now.
He said I have to get to work
She said Boy 1 has shat his pants.
He said you look shit when I get home
She said the boys are killing me.
He said I ‘m going to the pub
She said there’s washing to be done.
He said you are the mother sort it out.
She said I’m doing my best.
He came home and the house was empty
She’d taken them all away.
He said I don’t know what to do.
She said do something, anything.
Mother and Daughter – Collage – April 3
When the old lady saw she stopped.
There were triggers of past times
A little girl who was different
Who sought out attention,
Who wanted to be what she wasn’t.
A teenager who flouted rules, stayed out late,
Who never wanted for anything.
She knew they always feared
The elephant in the room,
The accident waiting to happen,
Which when it did, estrangement began.
Years of worry, searching, rescue,
Running from life, spurning the mother’s love.
Peace offerings manipulated
Buy this buy that, nothing sweet was appreciated
She wanted bigger and better, brighter and righter.
But the spiral had begun.
She vanished, popped up here and there
Then nothing.
Now she was ill, the old lady wanted to reach out
But the past dictated otherwise.
Bad habits and bad memories
Hurt, pain and turmoil.
She stood back from the sidelines
Waited for the call she dreaded
But saw it coming.
Her daughter turned into a wild child,
But life the mother knew was precious.
She was her daughter no matter what,
The old lady mused with a tear on her cheek.
This mother would always love her child.
Three Days PAD 3 April 4
Day one: Nervous polite words
The farmyard and the weather
The usual chit chat.
Day two: We shared a joke,
Laughed together, sat closer
Felt each other’s warmth.
Day three: We made love
Bodies entwined
Mouths engaged, giving so willingly.
I want more of Day three
More of you
More of us.
We Are Worth It / March 29
We don’t know what tomorrow will bring
But we plan to do our best.
That’s what you do with
One day at a time.
Always we are reaching out
Knowing we are there
Knowing you are there.
So much of life is attempted
With life’s blind fold in place
Hoping we get it right,
Allowing patience to guide us
Placing one foot before the other
Believing we will find a sure place to step.
Every so often we lose our footing
We stumble and fall
The world we know vanishes
But only temporarily.
We are resilient folk
We find ways to return
Resurrect and replenish ourselves.
Despite the initial thought of a needing space
For no matter the fear we feel in losing what we treasure
The treasure itself is what nurtures us.
So we pick ourselves up
Dust off the hurt, push aside the obstacle
Watch the dawn arrive
Resolve to try again
Because we are worth it!
Melt My Heart
Was it the room full of words
I was lost within
Where you first spied me
Between the sonnets and the free verse
When I spun a yarn of fairies
Or was it one of my many tales of fancy.
Your tender approach so apprehensive
You claimed you were intimidated
Thinking my words contained substance
But were really just me being me
Pretentious at times, erudite at others
Playing with words random ideas.
When you spoke I took notice
I turned from my within gaze
Looked out and saw compassion.
Reaching out to so many
I stood in awe; your words seeped into me
I stated my admiration
You had an audience who needed you
I wrote for all and any idle enough to read.
But when your words flowed my way
I listened, spellbound,
I found in time I am addicted to you
I can’t get enough of you being you,
Each day, your words melt my heart.
Floating
I feel myself floating, drifting up
It’s eerie, I don’t understand
Below me ants mill around
There is confusion,
I feel frantic
I am suddenly afraid, is this?
Beside me my mother long dead stands
I feel the remembered softness of her hand
Resting on my shoulder.
I feel the jolt run through me
She pushes me down, ever so gently
Looks at me with that knowing mother smile.
I awake, dazed, confused
I am tied down, tubes everywhere.
I hear click, ping, whoosh, hiss, beep
As a plethora of machines battle to keep me alive.
I sense someone near me
A nurse checks a connection
Looks at me, her eyes light up to see me awake.
I hear my prognosis
A wave of grief consumes me
I turn away
In denial I don’t want to hear
Don’t want to know
A future, what future?
I remember my mother, her touch
Her knowing look.
What were they thinking
Sending me into this hell?
Music Prompt #35 “Caroline” Performed by Old Crow Medicine Show – Old Lady
Hump Day Poetry – Week 7 – Fairies in My Garden
There are fairies living in my garden
I see them there each day
Such wondrous sights they share with me
Of fairy lights and fairy spells.
I’ve come to know them one and all
The Dew twins, April and May
Are as mischievous as you could imagine.
My favourites are the Fern Fairies
Who live among my many ferns
Turning magic into art.
They transform me to their minute size
Show me games and fairy ways.
The price I pay is their welfare
For I stay silent of their presence.
I was anointed their protector
By Fernister, the grand Fairy
Who made me swear to keep them safe
A task I take most boldly.
So every day I venture down
To the microcosm of their busy world
Some days they want me in
Some days I stand outside.
It’s Easter in a day or two
They celebrate with lights
And strange golden orbs
That glow and dance about.
I can’t wait to go back in
And join in the Fairy harvest feast.
Music Prompt #6
The parents looked at me and said
‘You have to stand on your own to feet
Be real in all you want.’
Such sage and simple advice
I carried through life
Over the curves and ups and downs
The days when fantasy seemed more real
Than the day-to-day hum drum of work and more work.
School was never a place for me,
My teachers were uninspiring
Classmates wanted to be fashionable
Saw mediocrity as their life’s goal.
Education I found for myself
No thanks to the system
Which frowned on individuality.
It tried to mould me a clone of their lacklustre selves.
Standing on my own two feet,
Came at a cost
Persecution, ridicule, scapegoat
The butt of so many jokes when
All I wanted was to be me.
Lovers came and went,
Took a part of me
Left me scarred
Financially at the mercy of others.
I learned the hard way that people
Despite what they said can’t be trusted
I was better on my own,
Wandering the world, being me.
I was the oddity in a world of indifference
I lurched from one crisis to another
Always learning, being me.
I reached out one day
‘I hope you don’t mind me intruding’,
Discovered a real person
Not affected by society expectations
Not like other women
Happy being who she is
Never seeing me as anything more than me.
I rest now in her arms
I stand on my own two feet
I am a person, a man of integrity
Aware of my own self
I am the real me.