Writing for Wellbeing...

Where the poems are

There is a long curved pathway
which runs between sanity and madness:
I have walked it many times,

searching

in wrong places
for solutions
to wrong problems;

destined

to walk for ever
until, exhausted,
I came close to death.

Whoever is responsible for miracles

chose that moment
to open up my eyes,
let me see the light,
which lit a different path.

That is where I found the poems.

by David Agnew (Belfast David)

-------------------------------------------------------

I read this poem by my friend David, today and I immediately wanted to share it. It offers hope that however bad things may seem, there is always the possiblity for change, for making different choices. It is never to late to take a different path.

Please do have a look at David's poetry; his words always have something special about them, whether it's gentleness, humour, wisdom, something to ponder upon, or something a little bit silly to smile about; his words never disappoint! Take a look at his blog:  http://belfastdavid.wordpress.com/posts/
and details of his books (that I can thoroughly recommend) can be found here: http://belfastdavid.wordpress.com/books/

Tenacity...

from

Tenacity (1971):

I sit for hours at the window
Preparing a letter; you are coming toward me,
We are balanced like dancers in memory,
I feel your coat, I smell your clothes,
Your tobacco, you almost touch me.

by Ruth Stone

Ruth Stone died last month, at the age of 96. Many of her poems convey a haunting feeling of loss and bittersweetness; they are“love poems, all written to a dead man”; written after her husband ended his life, leaving her to bring up three daughters on her own...

Angels...

 

Angels Are With Us 11/11/11 by abcounselling

 

 

Weather storm...

I was delighted to hear that Tomas Tranströmer‎ has been awarded the Nobel prize for literature, so here is one of his poems, which is quite fitting as I'm currently writing this whilst sitting looking out at the sea on this cold October day...

Weather Picture

The October sea glistens coldly
with its dorsal fin of mirages.

Nothing is left that remembers
the white dizziness of yacht races.

An amber glow over the village.
And all sounds in slow flight.

A dog’s barking is a hieroglyph
painted in the air above the garden

where the yellow fruit outwits
the tree and drops of its own accord.

by Tomas Tranströmer‎

perfect moment...

This Moment

A neighbourhood.
At dusk.

Things are getting ready
to happen
out of sight.

Stars and moths.
And rinds slanting around fruit.

But not yet.

One tree is black.
One window is yellow as butter.

A woman leans down to catch a child
who has run into her arms
this moment.

Stars rise.
Moths flutter.
Apples sweeten in the dark.

 by Eavan Boland

Today is national poetry day in the UK, so I thought I'd share a poem. This is from a collection called 'Poetry to Calm your Soul', compiled by Mimi Khalvati.

So many things happen in a single moment, yet how much do we actually notice?

Spend some time today (and everyday!) quietly observing a moment. 

What do you see?

Hear?

Smell?

Taste?

Feel?

Think?

In honour of poetry day, why not write a poem or some prose on the subject of 'This moment'?

Feel free to share what you write as a comment below.

You could also draw or photograph 'This Moment'

or create some music on the same theme...

the possiblities are endless!...

After the rain...

Hello again! Apologies for posting this on my other blog too, but it's a while since I've written a blog, so I thought I'd post it here too...Something I wrote earlier today when I was sitting on my bench, enjoying the sunshine for a few moments...

After the rain...

Summertime rain brings flowers

 and life

To once parched and barren

ground.

Gardens are alive

With a blaze of colour

Lifting spirits high...

Sitting for a while

I soak it all up

With gratitude and

 love.

Refreshed and 

renewed

Tranquility returns.

What was lost

Is found.

(24th June 2011)

 

 

Beside the seaside, beside the sea...

As you no doubt all know by now, I love the sea ... so, on that theme, I thought I'd share these poems - they're not by me! - I might have posted them before - sorry if I have! 

Hope you enjoy them x

~~~~

 

Sea Fever

John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

 

The Sea

JAMES REEVES

The sea is a hungry dog.

Giant and grey.

He rolls on the beach all day.

With his clashing teeth and shaggy jaws

Hour upon hour he gnaws

The rumbling, tumbling stones,

And ‘Bones, bones, bones, bones!’

The giant sea-dog moans,

Licking his greasy paws.

And when the night wind roars

And the moon rocks in the stormy cloud,

He bounds to his feet and snuffs and sniffs,

Shaking his wet sides over the cliffs,

And howls and hollos long and loud.

But on quiet days in May and June,

When even the grasses on the dune

Play no more their reedy tune,

With his head between his paws

He lies on the sandy shores,

                                   

So quiet, so quiet, he scarcely snores.

The soul, like the moon...

The moon has been especially beautiful these last few days... I seem to feel a lot more creative in the days leading up to a full moon - does anyone else notice this too?

Anyway, I was having a read through one of my poetry books yesterday, and I really liked this one, so I thought I'd share it:

The Soul, like the moon...

The soul, like the moon,

is new, and always new again.

And I have seen the ocean

continuously creating.

Since I scoured my mind

and my body, I too, Lalla,

am new, each moment new.

My teacher told me one thing,

live in the soul.

When that was so,

I began to go naked,

and dance.

by Lal Ded

- you can find out about her here:

http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/D/DedLal/

and here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lalleshwari

The book I'm reading is: 'Soul Food: Nourishing poems for starved minds'

thicker than water?

'Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes'  
~ Gloria Naylor

xmas 1971 -  me, dad, and my sister...

You knocked on the door

Looking old and dishevelled and
Heavy.
You needed a shave and
Haircut.
You said you missed us.
But you didn't say
'Sorry'.
Maybe you never will.
You walked away with
Shoulders stooped.
I felt sad and
Heavy.
'I miss you too'
I whispered
As you faded out of
View...

(Oct 2010)
~~~~

I had to include a pic with my mum too! 1971. <3

Paul Smith - A Review in Haiku...

Hello... you might want to skip my rambling below, and head straight to the haikus, which are below the rather beautiful photo of Paul...

... It's normally my daughter Iona (above) who blogs about musicians and the like (http://iona-frances.blogspot.com/), but her infectious enthusiam, and constant reciting of snippets of Maximo Park lyrics over the last few years has rubbed off onto me, and I now feel a bit like a teenager myself... which is quite nice, I have to say!

I'm so pleased that this year she has finally managed to not only get to see Maximo Park last month, but she was also able to go to a really special intimate gig last night by Paul Smith, doing some gorgeous songs from his new album 'Margins'. After the year we've had, she so deserved something nice to happen - and I can't help thinking that maybe her dad has been watching over her and somehow played a part in making this happen... or is that me just getting wistful and sentimental? ... Anyway - I digress... 



Last night was absolutely magical - the audience was spellbound and you could probably hear a pin drop in the silence as we stood listening intently, not wanting to miss a moment. It was so special, I feel a bit guilty for including a photo in this blog - it almost feels like a betrayal - but it would seem such a shame for it just to be hidden away in my computer, for my eyes only...

I really wanted to capture the feelings and moments of last night, and sometimes a picture is enough, but sometimes words are needed too. If you were a subscriber to my old blog, you'll know how much I like haikus. I love how they capture a moment in 3 short lines... so I thought it would be nice to summarise the gig in a few separate haikus... So, here's what I came up with - below the photo...

He seemed uncertain

Even a little bit shy.

He melted my heart.

~~~

His elegant hands

Gently caressed guitar strings

Exposing his soul

~~~

His glossy black curls

Tumbled from under his hat

With gypsy-like charm

~~~

Intense and sincere

His voice full of emotion

We listened as one

~~~

Words full of beauty

Revealing fragility

And a tender heart

~~~

His Margins CD (or vinyl) and dreamlike book 'Thinking in Pictures' are availabe now.

If you're local to Tyne and Wear, they are available in RPM in Newcastle, where this lovely experience occurred... Thank you Paul and RPM, and also Rachel Lancaster, who played guitar :-)

Hope...

This is something I wrote yesterday - it never ceases to amaze me how writing things down helps release negative feelings - I especially enjoyed doing the jigsaw exercise afterwards - I just drew jigsaw shapes (some of which seem to have slightly phallic-looking appendages, incidentally, which Freud would no doubt have a field day analysing...) then I just let my pen subconsciously write down words that sprang from nowhere ... or was it really from 'nowhere'?? Anyway, here it is, along with a couple of photos I took today:



Hope...

Fleeting moments

Stand out

In high definition

Against a hazy background

Of a lifetime of memories.

Fragmented snippets of sentences

And words unsaid

Form broken jigsaws

In the back of my mind.

Unuttered feelings rise to the surface

Then sink,

Submerged.

Drowning

In waves of emotions 

Undefined,

And then returning to haunt me

In dreams

That evaporate on waking.

Breaking the spell of the past

And bringing awareness

to the present

Until darkness falls again;

Only to be dissolved by the rising sun

Bringing light

Bringing hope.

 

Rich Tapestry...

Today is National Poetry Day, and the theme is 'Home'. I hadn't realised this earlier today, but funnily enough I was writing about autumn and how the seasonal theme seems to shift subtly; the summertime theme is being outdoors, whereas in autumn we tend to retreat indoors more and life becomes more centred around the home... Although on lovely days like today, there's surely nothing better than to be outdoors enjoying the crisp air and the blazing leaves that are the signature of this season...

Anyway, I'm not sure whether I'll have time today to write anything else, so instead here's something I wrote a while ago. Short and sweet, but nevermind - poems don't have to be long. How does it relate to 'home'? Well, which home, which fireplace, would be complete without a rug??!

Rich Tapestry ...

A single ray of sunlight

On the faded, worn, rug.

What secrets does it hold?

Time for another of my little Creative Challenges now, I think!

Write a little poem on the theme of 'home'
- or 'autumn'
Or share your favourite poem - either by you or one by someone else

One ...

I woke up this morning to the most beautiful sunrise. The sky was on fire - a glowing mix of red, amber and peach.
For how many years has the sun been lighting the sky? How many people have been captivated by sunrises and sunsets over the centuries?
There is such a timelessness about it - I can imagine bronze age man gazing at it, alongside people today - a link between past and present.... It truly is the natural things in life that have the power to take my breath away, make my heart skip, bring tears to my eyes - whether it's the sun rising or setting, the spiritual, spine tingling glow of the moon, the twinkling of a star, or the gentle arch of a rainbow - it is all these things, and more, that really matter.
It is the sharing of the natural wonders of everyday life that bonds us together, spellbound, across continents, time zones and centuries ... Thank you, 'mother nature' ...

This is a poem I wrote a few years ago - sorry if you've seen it before, but I think it ties in with the theme of this blog ...

One

The pheasant's wing

Beats in time

With the Shaman's drum

On the other side

Of the world.

Woodsmoke

Spirals

Up, up and

Away

In the hazy sky

Between two

Worlds.

Worlds apart;

Yet we are all

One...



After the Rain...

... A little tip for staying creative - take a notepad and pen with you, wherever you go (and a camera!). You never know when inspiration will strike! Make the most of any spare moments you have here and there, and get writing!!

I wrote this poem yesterday, when I was sitting in the car waiting to collect my daughter - who was also making the most of her creativity, by staying behind in the art-room for an extra two hours after school, to work on her latest work of art !

After the Rain

The world is a damp, dark place today.

A veil of mist smothers

Everything.

Erasing colour.

Pressing the 'pause' button

On life.

Life is now a slow-motion

Black and white

Film.

But in a little while,

After the rain,

Autumn leaves,

Like love,

Add a welcome splash

Of colour.

Smiling at the Sun ...

I started off the day with another session at the allotment. After a couple of hours of pruning, trimming and generally tidying up, I rewarded myself with a little sit down for a while. It was so lovely to just sit down and feel the sun, and to absorb the sounds, the smells, and the tranquility. I feel so blessed to have my little patch of paradise. It seems to bring out my creative side too ... This is what I wrote today:

Smiling at the Sun

Bathed in golden sunlight

That warms my skin

And caresses my neck

I sit for a while

On the creaking bench

Watching ripples on the pond

And the dancing grass.

I marvel at the beauty of a ladybird

And a delicate flower.

I wonder how it is possible

To feel so much

Joy

So much

Love.

My heart will surely

Burst.

I feel glad to be

Alive.

So glad to be

Alive.

I smile

And I'm sure that

The sun

Smiles

Back.

I've been picking yet more apples!



Changing Seasons ...

I love this time of year - well I love every time of year - but I especially love the time of year when the seasons are changing - particularly winter turning into spring, or summer turning into autumn...

I've just been along to my allotment. I picked more apples, tomatoes and runner beans, did some tidying up, then just sat for a while, feeling the wind caressing my face, and watching the sun glint on the golden leaves ... then I wrote this:

Changing Seasons

Change is a coming

Whispering through the leaves

Promises of renewal

and fresh starts.

The nights are drawing in now

and there's a chill in the air

morning and night.

Thoughts turn inwards

As I retreat indoors

And become mesmerised by

Candle light once more.

Nourished by good food

And memories

And the promise of change.

And yet the same rythmns of life go on

Bringing comfort

Bringing hope

Bringing peace

As I welcome the new

Release the old

And embrace and rejoice

in what is ...



White Horses...

... I've just been for another walk by the sea - the waves are still thundering in my ears and I can still taste salt on my lips. Over the last few days the sea has been a writhing, gurgling monster topped with a seething mass of  foamy white tentacles... Yet at times it has also seemed elegant and inviting - pure white horses galloping atop turquoise waves that roll in and out with the tide... Rainbows have been dancing between clouds, playing hide and seek with the sun... It never ceases to amaze me how the seascape outside my window changes with every breath I take...

As I walked along watching the waves, I remembered a poem I wrote a few years back. I don't think I've put it in this blog before, although I'm sure I put it on 'myspace' quite some time ago... Having reread it, it could do with tweaking here and there, I think - but I thought I'd post it again anyway:

Stars and White Horses

Wild white horses

Gallop on the crest of the waves.

I long to ride bareback

Along the golden sand;

To the point where land

And sea

Merge

And become one.

To the point where

Mind, body and soul

Are one.

In a flurry of stamping feet

And tossing manes,

The horses rear up

And flick their tails.

And, in an instant,

They are gone.

But the roar of the sea

Goes on

And on.

The day slowly slips away

And changes into night.

The stars begin to blaze.

And, in a far away land,

A sleepy white horse

Stamps his foot;

and neighs.

and here is a little video I made - a bit wobbly and unprofessional, but never mind - I wanted to try and somehow capture the essence and feel of the sea. However, I have reached the conclusion that it is more or less impossible to capture the rawness and all that emotion in a photo or on film... You have to be there... Simple as that... and I'm so grateful that I am ... every day!

Renewal...

Renewal...

Peace runs through me

like a flowing river

of renewal and

rebirth.

Gentle ripples come and go

with every breath I take

in and

out.

Rising up from somewhere

so deep inside of me

it feels like it's been there

for ever...

Since the first dawn

of time.

Since the first sunrise

Since the wind's first

breath.

Soul deep

I feel the spark of life

that's been there

since spirit first rose from ashes

phoenix-like

Bringing renewal and rebirth.

Bringing peace.

Morse Code...

Sighing

I dip my hand into the ocean's

wishing well

and ask for a glimpse of

heaven

rather than

hell.

Later

I gaze 

at the glowing light

shining steadily

throughout the night

and for a fleeting

moment

I see

a moonlit

morse code

message

blinking

at me:

'Have faith and accept that

what will be

will be.

What will be

will be.

A smile replaces

my sigh.

A smile replaces my sigh.

Time Will Tell....

Your arrival was like a tiny glimmer of
Hope

In a world turned sour.

Maybe you were sent to sweeten the bitterness and

Stop

the decay.

Almost like adding

sugar

to lemon juice.

You were sent to let the demons loose

And chase them

Away.

But what if they're here to stay?

Painful memories can't be brushed away

When foundations have been rocked

to the core.

It's sometimes easier to

walk away

And close the door...

Only time will tell...

Only time will tell.