Tag Archives: pain

Over, Under, Sideways Down

Over time I often find

The little things I left behind

Under rocks the crawly things

A world of seething wriggling life

Sideways glances withering looks

My word my heart a hidden nook

Down down a spiralling chase

Will I forgive that mocking face

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Lost?

Hidden deep amidst the lull
Still shines her golden heart
Even though through time it dulls
Together or far apart.

I want to see those eyes glow again
And see that joyous smile
Until I do I’ll settle back
And wait and wish awhile.

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The Right Signals

Today I shall be starting with a rant, something I rarely do in public and usually only when driven to it by my perception of something ridiculous, absurd or plain stupid.  This is usually when behind the wheel of a car but does sometimes happen when I’m a mere passenger (in a car or a bus it doesn’t really matter).

Now I have to admit I am not ranting out of a sense of my own perfection I am not perfect and like all humans (yes I am actually human though sometimes I do wonder, perhaps I’m an alien whose mind was wiped clean or a new species born from humanity but ever so slightly different – then I tell myself to cease the deranged day dreams and get back to driving) I make mistakes every now and then.

I have mixed my colours (reds, blues and whites) in a washing machine and ended up with a lovely pink shirt (very fashionable I’ve heard though not really to my taste).  I have started my car and somehow managed to lock the doors but still been firmly and securely stood at the side of the car, my mouth dropped open in amazement at my stupidity!  I have let my children draw on my face and forgotten completely as I rushed out of the door to go to work (I wondered why so many people seemed happy that day with most people greeting me with hesitant but vibrant smiles).  And I have on occasion forgotten to signal when either changing direction or at a junction – for this I apologise profusely and it makes me feel ever so guilty it really does.

I have noticed an increasing number of people who seem incapable of indicating.  I am not sure if it is a one-off occasion (as with me above and to you people I also apologise profusely and I do understand completely how each evening you now spend some time in tortured anguish over the guilt).

What I am certain of is that there are far too many people not doing it to tell me that most of them simply don’t want to, don’t care or have forgotten that not only is it helpful to other road users to know which direction you intend to go but also one of the things you get tested on when you pass your test.

Of course it could be that they’ve not passed their test which means they simply won’t know which I suppose I can excuse; if you’ve not studied the highway code taken lessons or taken a test then of course you’re not going to know what that little stick connected to the steering wheel is for are you?

The majority of people I’m sure must have passed their test at some point.  So why do they sit there at a junction as traffic drives steadily past, with a look of pained anxiety on their faces, desperate to pull out and wondering why nobody seems willing to oblige?  I have a little rule I usually use – if somebody is waiting to pull out and I can let them do so safely then I will, as long as they are indicating!

There has been a couple of occasions when a car has sat there indicating correctly and I’ve slowed down half a mile down the road, flashed my lights madly, waved my hands etc. only for the person to calmly sit there seemingly waiting for a much bigger gap!  But that type of person is a lot rarer.

I am trying not to let other people’s’ driving annoy me.  Put simply there is not a lot I can do about it, I don’t have a blue light I can pop on the roof, I don’t have a machine gun installed in my car grill and getting angry tends to make me sweat far too much (which then means I have to use the washing machine a little more and I get more pink shirts).

Safe driving everybody.

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Rich – A Poem

Colours fly with speeding change

Across eternal winter rage

Fill my senses drown my world

Vicious winds around me whirl

Can you help me can you see

There is no endless you and me

Once there was a man

Who sat and cried

And cast away his pain

And all around him set in awe

The biting acid rain

Colours fly with endless motion

If every man could swim the ocean

If all the money in the world

Could buy the boy the sweetest girl

Then I’d be yours and you’d be mine

But do you really have the time?

One there was a thought

That didn’t die

Once there was sound an endless cry

Once I was poor until it ended

Filled my world that I defended

And here I lay a bloody sodden wretch

Without the heart and soul that made me rich.

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Where Did the Time Go?

Firstly a profound apology – I once more find myself neglecting those who have supported me and followed me and helped me across the depths of cyberspace; I thought I’d post something up here only to notice that my last blog entry was November last year!  I did make a promise to be more proliferate (and I’d hoped the coffee would help get me back to that state of artistic enthusiasm I’d displayed before!).  But once again I let the real world – or at least the one that pays the bills and drives me to up the black coffee intake – push my artistic pursuits to one side.  And so I send you all my deepest apologies and I promise I will try.

Time does seem to slip like silky sand through my fingers, especially if I don’t keep an eye on things and all I wanted to achieve is left in a messy pile on the carpet (and it takes an age to vacuum it all up again).  So now I’m trying some positive thought to get me out of this ditch I fell into.  The sides looked far too steep to climb and for a while I was getting myself resigned to a life lived with the annoying pain of unfilled dreams.  The sides of the ditch seemed to be getting steeper and muddier and no matter how hard I tried to climb it just made my clothes damp and dirty and made me feel ever so tired and weary.

I’m not a religious person and I don’t believe in God (whichever God – and I know some of you do which is fine – I used to work for a Church based organisation of which there were several flavours of Christianity that some of my colleagues believed in so therefore in general religion was not discussed and therefore harmony was achieved).  I do believe in the power of people – it is within each of us a power for good and bad, an ability to create or destroy and that includes ourselves.  And so I started to try to believe in myself.

Now I’m not getting carried away, I’m not going to start thinking I’m the ‘new’ anything or any better than a million other people who write, sing, compose paint etc. but I am going to start believing that I have some talent, enough to continue and above all feel happy in it what I do.  Yes I’d love to have recognition which is where you wonderful people come in, a little bit of kindness and kind words go a long way.

In short I am trying to concentrate on the good things I have, to push those bad things to the back and not let their negative nagging get the better of me.  Well let’s see how it goes.

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Keep On Running

I’m in the midst of a new ‘thing’ which is actually an old ‘thing’ dusted off and given a new lease of life.  I have started to run again.  Now I know we’ve just had a summer of Olympics with sport everywhere but it really has nothing to do with that, honest.

As you may know if you’ve been reading my posts here I have been trying to lose weight for most of this year (and have done pretty well I think) but I’ve got to a point where very easily I could slip back into bad eating and unhealthy habits (plates stacked full of plain chocolate biccies, pizza, buns, pizza and off course lots of… pizza).

In my 20’s I did lots of exercise (circuit training, weights, running…) and for a short time felt pretty good about that side of my life.  But my knee decided it would complain (I had been abusing it and making it take my increasing weight after all so there are no hard feelings; we actually get on pretty well now apart from the odd twinge here or there).

I’m not sure how long this ‘thing’ will last but I am intending to try to continue past the point where I have attained and am maintaining my target weight (nothing exciting, I’m not wanting to be a stick insect after all my wide ‘child baring’ hips won’t let me).  Perhaps I’m going a bit mad but I’m managing a run every other day of roughly about 2-3 miles; I’m not sure I’m a natural, I do seem to be getting overtaken quite a lot by little old ladies in their 90’s (many in very fetching bright pink outfits) and with my face a match for any Post Office mail box (bright red for those of my overseas readers) I may not look the healthiest of chaps as I huff and puff my way around but I am feeling better!  I am!

There does seem to be a lot of us around along with cyclists so I don’t feel too lonely.  I even saw one lady brave enough to take her dog with her; I wouldn’t get far with mine as he likes to inspect every patch of grass which means a regular walk with him takes about an hour for a few hundred feet of travel!  I remember in my first fitness attempt in the 90’s I took our lovely dog for a jog and nearly ended up with two broken legs; he enjoyed playing with my feet as I (tried) to run.

Anyway must dash, I feel the urge to hit the road, to feel the joy of the road; in short I must keep on running!

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Questions?

Do you know any answers?  Can you see how the world works when the night falls in pitiful shades of gray, dampening the light from a weak sun filtered through clouds of melting mountains?  Is it good to say I ache from the machinations of a crowd that pushes me in all directions with angry power?  Once I stood naked before the mirror and saw a man not yet old and no longer young but I didn’t see me, I couldn’t see me.  Why can people only glimpse that part of us that boils and simmers with some parts rage some parts love?  Am I going mad when I remember you from so long ago as though it was only this morning?   You were so fresh and new and I wanted you more than the air I breath.  Is it brash to lay down my feelings like so many open sores to be eaten away by time?  I dream in colours so vivid they hurt my eyes and pulses of pain seep deep, laying trenches in my conscious waking life, can I survive or sink into a spiral of hurt?

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