Sinking

P1030419 1 (2)

The fruits decayed beneath me as I slept
in the sunshine of the yellow day,
whilst the rest of the world danced,
oblivious to the sorrowful dreams
sowing the seeds of chaos in my head.

I fell into the water
and the purple waves
took me to the edge of time.

I nestled there and watched the peacocks
strut amongst the turtles,
and the underwater things writhing in the air,
and there, amongst the rocks and pearls of the sea,
I took my last land lubber breath.

 

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Dead Head

Captive in a comfy chair
in the resident’s lounge,
she serves me bitter coffee
with watery milk.
Not the way I like it.

The others stare absently
at their sippy cups,
remembering
the days of dancing
down the aisles,
deciding what’s for tea.
choosing favourites,
The ‘meals for two’ special offers
that came with a bottle of wine.
To share.

No alcohol here.
Dining room misery instead.
Tasteless food, mushy in my mouth,
school dinner puds
washed down with childhood squash,
all consumed to the tune
of coughing and cursing,
and the shout of instructions,
and endless questions from
lost minds.

Wheeled back to the room
for my ‘nap after lunch’
we pass the locked route to the garden.
The clematis needs pruning,
and the dead roses still droop on the bush
out there, in that life giving air
that once I breathed
in my own beloved space
of borders and pond,
and sandpits and slides.

I stare from the window
people pass below.
They hurry to work
clutching their coffees,
driving their cars,
catching buses,
pushing prams.
Their hectic lives an inconvenience
but what I wouldn’t give to
be busy once more.

 

Stood up in the Sixties

I waited there at Kensington Tube
My skinny teenage legs
framed by lemon yellow hotpants
and cute matching socks

chin up and posing
the cheap and cheerful
Chelsea Girl look
No second glances for me though

Despite my twiggyness
Despite the nervous shaking of
my thin blond mane
or thick eyeliner applied in vogue

neither the regular tune of the trains
nor the checking of my chunky watch
stopped the time
and each minute past the hour

Became a taunt
Until the truth struck
and mascara running
I rued my platform soul

Me sixties

Yes, this is me in the sixties!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/waiting-2017/

 

 

 

 

Self Portrait

The rebellious brush drops blobs of paint
speckling my masterpiece with muddy colour.
Perspective lost, I rip the canvas
I didn’t like the picture anyway

The face was pinched and
the shoulders hunched.
Standing alone looking lost.
Yes, it looked like me.

But even the flowers seemed askew
rebuking me for the dull sky
and the not so green grass.
Where were my rose-coloured glasses?

I blame the palette.
The colours that don’t comply.
Yet when I glance toward the mirror
I see the truth

 

 

Not Fun, Not Fair #2

Fun house pic

 

He looked like a gypsy
brooding eyes and
wisps of brown curls.
How could I resist when
He invited me to waltz?

I never expected the spinning
to be so dizzying,
or the music so deafening.
He threw a curveball
And won my heart.

Then bought me candy
that sparkled in the bright lights
of the ferris wheel
where we swung high and saw clear
to our cloudless horizon.

On the rollercoaster of reality
we swooped and sunk,
and screams punctuated
the nauseating motion
Of the not-so-merry go round.

We twirled together
down the helter skelter of life
where only dank earth
waited for our landing.
Entwined, we hit the bottom.

We tried the dodgems
but couldn’t escape
our car crash lives
and ended up in a house of horror.
The dark tunnel of lost love.

 

 

 

 

What does fun feel like?

Fun is carefree, laughing, singing, taking risks, dancing, letting your hair down.  As I get older, the opportunities for that sort of fun seem to diminish.  Not because of any lack of ability or motivation, just that, somehow, life gets in the way, and convention says those sort of fun things are for ‘the young folk’. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I spend most of my life doing things I enjoy; yoga, writing, photography, painting, gardening… but am I having ‘fun’ exactly?

I’m young.  Not everybody would agree of course, but despite my ageing 1950s edition container, Me, the Me inside, is still in her twenties.  And this twenty something still loves music, rollercoasters, climbing trees, zip-wiring, fast cars, boats, yep, I’m still an adrenaline junkie whenever I get the chance.  But these days, the best fun I have is when my family are all together, stitching each other up over a board game, or playing something daft on our old games console (cow racing being a favourite), or just basically, being silly. And that’s great, but it doesn’t happen often as my two daughters live at different ends of the country (well, one is in Wales, so not even technically in this country), and their shifts mean they are not often ‘off’ to visit their poor old parents at the same time.  We’ve even had to postpone Christmas some years.

However, this week, after months of waiting, Monday 3rd July finally arrived. Finally, finally, I was off to see one of my all time favourite bands.  I was like an excited kid and the evening couldn’t come quickly enough.

What can I say… GreenDay were magnificent, epic, awesome, incredible…

Every single person in the arena were on their feet, dancing, singing, and shouting for the whole two and half hour set.  They played new stuff and old favourites and it was just fabulous.

And me, yeah, oh did I let my hair down!  I danced and sang til I was hoarse. I chanted and cheered and waved my arms about.  The years dropped off and, transported by the music to a world of my own, I was exhilarated and felt young and free and alive and beautiful.  Never mind that I had a 30 year old daughter dancing next to me, we were the same. Me and the slightly scary young bloke on my left. The one with the piercings and tattoos, yeah, we were the same too. In fact, everyone in that arena, no matter what age, or inclination, or colour, or faith, or difference of any kind, were all the same.  Troubles forgotten in that hot, loud world, we were moving with an energy that could have powered the national grid for a year.  And we were all having the best fun… and yes BillieJoe, I ‘ad the time of my life! Thank you xxx

Getting out of the car park afterwards, now that was quite another matter altogether…!