Category: Ruminations

I’ve Been Looking For Miracles In All The Wrong Places

I’ve been looking for miracles in all the wrong places

where nutrient rich soil was never there

where the ground was barren and rocky and bare

where weeds choked the stems that pushed from below

that strangled the plants that dared to grow.

I’ve been looking for miracles in all the wrong places

wherever it slips and slides, hope can’t take hold,

seeds can’t flourish

in Antartic cold.

The miracles I was seeking

only grow in the light

and can’t live where the air is foul

Where shadows fall

And demons prowl

But now…

Now, I’m looking for miracles

In all the right places

Ideal conditions

Not too far

Watered with kindness and patience and love

That’s where my miracles are.

Looking forward to fifty

I’m going to be turning fifty, this year. I don’t feel it. I don’t know whether to grow old gracefully or disgracefully. I’ve always been indecisive.

I looked up stuff about age last week (because I am sensitive about age now) and I learned so much! Some of the things I learned were…

You’re not allowed to say ‘elderly’ anymore. ‘Senior citizen’ is out and ‘retired’ is out the door. You can’t say ‘geriatric’ and I think that’s quite fair. ‘Pensioner’ is outdated and ‘advanced age’ – don’t go there. ‘Old people?’ No, can’t do that, as it euphemizes age. And that euphemism is negative, if you’ve lived a lot of days. So, what are we to do, to show respect for all the years? How do we put a stop to all our politically correct fears?

A lot of these words were bandied about, in certain times and phases but now ‘fossil’, ‘fogey’ and ‘codger’ are out, they’re not P.C phrases. ‘Older adult’ or ‘older person’ is the acceptable term these days, or simply ‘man’ or simply ‘woman’, followed by their age.

It’s about time, the PC World (not the computer store) said something nice about me, so if I’m an ‘older adult,’ then that’s what I’m happy to be.

Less Is More With You

I love you

Because you’re unexpected

Unpredictable

Just salty enough

Tangy enough

I spread you close

Lather you up

Against the butter

Against the toast

But not too much

Less is more with you

You come finely housed in curvaceous glass

Not everyone likes you

But if they like you, they love you

And if they don’t like you, they hate you

And can’t stand the smell of you

Let alone eat you

Some people are taken in by your cunning disguise

They see you all brown and sticky and gooey and think

you are a chocolate spread

And then they eat you, one big mouthful

You’re a nice surprise or a nasty shock

Depending on your outlook and tastebuds

I once was a little frightened of you

And once, I hated you.

But now, I love you, Marmite.

January Calls

Ah, January, I see you’ve brought me some ice. Please leave it by the door. I don’t mean to be rude but when you come around, you bring me down. Your clothes are drab, your demeanour cold and your jokes for all things winter, are getting old. I know you have to visit and I don’t exactly give you a warm welcome but it’s the same on your side of the fence. There’s no love lost, is there?

Still, you do make me smile sometimes, with your tales of Christmas Past and your Very Best Wishes for the New Year. You quite respect those who brave another of your fierce tempers and make it through to warmer times. I see that, as you go, you leave me with some hope for longer days and brighter mornings and the promise of the sun on my face. So thank you January, you are kinder than I thought. Ah, I see I have another guest. Can you say hello to February on your way out?

Ah, February, I see you’ve brought me some ice…

Teabag Mystery

I found a teabag (old and dried) in my Busy Lizzies this week. No idea how it got there. The husband doesn’t know anything about it. Bit of a mystery, I thought, and it kept me going for a few days. But I love and hate mysteries with equal measure. So I thought, I’m going to work this one out if it kills me. Unless, I have a poltergeist that likes drinking tea, I have to think of another alternative, a logical solution.

Maybe I had a cup with a herbal teabag in it, from a recent previous beverage, which I filled with water, watered the plant, emptied both water and teabag into soil and voila, end of mystery. I do like solving mysteries. Sorry, poltergeist. Your days are numbered. It was fun while it lasted though.

I Love little Furry Things

I love little furry things

that whizz across the floor

That no one can identify

It makes me love them more

And if they have long tails

It doesn’t induce fright

And if they have big whiskers

It fills me with delight

I love little furry things

anything rodent shaped

That might crawl up your leg

And make the faint heart faint

I just don’t get it

Why are we scared of them?

They’re soft and they are fuzzy

From where did our fears stem?

Why do they scare the elephant

When it is so big?

Why do they scare the human race

When they’re the size of a small wig?

Oh, I love little furry things

That dart across the floor

It’s true, they nibble a lot

But they don’t shout or roar

I love little furry things

That get eaten by cats

They’re much smaller than us

So don’t kill them in traps

So, the moral of this story stands

Well, there is no moral really

Just be kind to those of us

Who are small and cute and furry.

 

Colours

I was black and I was blue

With a yellow purple hue

Bruised because of you

So thank you

I was grey and I was down

Because of you, psychotic clown

You know you broke my crown

So thank you

I am grateful for your stink

Because it made me think

I started to be pink

So thank you

You took me to the lows

I went from China Rose

To red as Drinkers Nose

So thank you

But now I’m on the rise

The colours are surprised

They’ve suddenly got wise

So thank you

I’m not as green in game

You’re the quagmire heat of blame

You’re the dirty brown of shame

So F you.

 

Toasted Crumpet

A griddle cake

By any other name

Would taste as sweet

I toast it

Both sides

Now, hot off the press

I spread the

golden

melting

ever so slightly flowing

butter

And watch it seep

Deep

Not over the edge

And not out of the bottom

But into the pores

And into the heart of comfort

That is my crumpet

 

After Years Of Darkness

Image result for Creative Commons Photos of Poppies

After years of darkness

The light is shining through

After years of darkness

The sun is now in view

We will be together

When we were so alone

We will be together

Now you are coming home

After years of darkness

It’s looking brighter now

Let’s chase away the darkness

And make up the years somehow

Now there’s tears of joy

Instead of tears of sorrow

We have a new today

We have a new tomorrow

Now it is our time

Hope is on its way

After years of darkness

You are home to stay

Libraries Week

Last week was Libraries Week and I was invited to celebrate at Live Poets ‘15 Progressive Poetry Years’ party at Blackpool Central Library on Friday. They were having a Poetry Party with poetry readings, mocktails and cake.

They were also celebrating National Poetry Day with a limerick competition and a prize giving ceremony for the best three limericks.

I entered the competition and didn’t think anymore about it, until I received a phone call from a very nice lady informing me that my poem was in the top three selected winners and would I be available to come to the party? I was already going, so that wasn’t a problem and she said what an added bonus it was. I agreed.

When I got there, the three winners were called up on stage and had to read out their poem. Third prize was called out, a beautiful poem read by Steven, or Stephen, but me and Thelma insisted it be read out again because me and Thelma didn’t hear it. (Well, I’m hard of hearing, not sure about Thelma. I linked arms with Thelma and I think we’ve bonded, through fear) Second prize by Thelma, again, lovely poem. I was mortified by this time. Can’t tell you how embarressed I felt. I have social anxiety, so this was painful. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.

So I discovered that I won first prize in this poetry competition. It was only a local thing but it was a nice surprise, or rather shock.

The theme was Change, which was also the theme of this years National Poetry Day but also, I believe it was about putting a positive slant on change and at the same time following the structure of a limerick. Beforehand,  I did a bit of research and discovered that it doesn’t have to be, ‘There was an old man from wherever…’

So here is my poem

Change

Change can be a good thing

It’s a bit like a song that you sing

The tune never ends

It turns and it bends

And there’s so much joy it can bring

 

I don’t like change and struggle against it at every opportunity and I thought, I have to change. I have to embrace change. I have discovered to my cost, that resisting change is not only traumatic but also destructive. So I decided to be positive, for once. Just being positive, forcing myself to be positive, brings positive changes.  If you act a certain way, you become it.

‘At Live Poets, we encourage writng skills. Just bring biros, PC’s or quills. Monday plans rearrange – And join us for a change- Pioneering – Poetry fulfils!’

The poetry and writing group are having a positive impact in my life, even though I’ve only been going for a few months.  It’s great meeting other creative people. That’s what I love about word press and the blogging world too. It’s very inspiring.

I also think it’s wonderful that Blackpool Library, in connection with Blackpool Council, are supporting, inspiring and encouraging creative people in the community with these events.