My old jeans Are patched And stitched all over Including the seams
They started out Brand new And phew! They lasted ages
But with all the crawling about In and out Of dens And playing with jigsaws On the floor And the crawling around I had a toddler then It was sort of inevitable They would wear out
So they went at the knee To start with it felt All free Just feeling the breeze
But when the holes got bigger and bigger The jeans grew smaller And were cut down into shorts
Well I wore ‘em and wore ‘em Until, yes you’ve got it They started to wear out And I had to admit
There had to be Something else I could do To keep them going A life to renew
That’s where the patches came in Breathing new life From the sewing bin A vast collection of fabrics Easier to choose that Than do the cube of rubics (Which I could never do!)
So they became my flowered Patched jeans Until one day Right on the seams And on the thigh Trouble was nigh…
Holes were a-found And as they say “A stitch in time Saves nine” I knew What I needed to do.
This time eBay and Boyes came to the rescue (Boyes-es if you ask my Grandma Though she’s no longer here) With Anchor cotton And some random Brand I don’t know I started to sew
Woven stitching over holes And a collage or two here And there A sunset, Not in a square But in a heart For love it holds dear A special place in my art
How long they shall last I do not know But one thing is that I won’t throw Them away Whilst there’s life left I’d be kind of bereft
Because they tell a story A fabric here, A stitch there A lost forgotten art Of repairing and mending And not to throw out Until really there’s nothing Left that can be done But that’ll be a while... Oh! Here comes the sun!
Shorts at the ready Down to the beach I must go And I’ll find something Different to sew.
The image is another pair of jeans converted into a skirt - for the same reasons, decorated with quotes and things that made me smile. Decorative and a useful hobby - it keeps me awake whilst watching TV, else I'd be snoring and doing all their heads in!
Some days we say “I don’t feel like me” But I wonder Who else could you be?
I hear people return Time after time After a great remedy They so often say “I feel like me again” Which begs the question “Where have ‘they’ been?”
It’s being picky I know Because I reckon Most of us have had that thing Where you just aren't feeling Like ‘yourself’ that day.
Where do ‘we’ go On those days That go slow That go wrong When we have No song To sing To the world?
And what if we welcomed Like Rumi invites us Those guests to the house Those feelings of the night Those we often shun Instead stuffing a bun Into our faces To shove them down In fear we might drown
Letting sadness be felt And Guilt Shame Blame Letting them see Be seen And knowing they Are 'me' Or 'you'
Allowing them A place at the table If we can If we are able Because perhaps And I’m thinking out loud Perhaps that’s the way To allow us to have A brighter day.
Accepting they all Have a part to play Instead of telling them "Now please go away." And I wonder Without fear Or feeling uncertain It makes it easier Instead of grabbing the curtain And pretending to go out Or needing to shout Just get them a drink Have a think Accepting, allowing And loving all parts Bringing them all into our hearts
If that helps us be whole Letting us give Our judgement a rest Allowing a more contented Space to live.
With thanks to Andrene, who sent me Rumi's poem which gave me food for thought and when I wrote this was there, stored in my library of thoughts. I'd like to share it here in case you'd like to read it too.
This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honourably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
And thanks too to Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche (with Eric Swanson) who's Joyful Wisdom book came at just the right time for me.
Old friends Can be the best You know the ones You can chat with Or just rest
You can be yourself Pleasant or hurting It’s not big deal There’s no effort To having it working
You just fall right back in To that old rhythm Of being together Not like it’s forever But really as if You were never apart
That said, it’s not to discount New friends Who can, absolutely too Be the best
It’s not to compare Old and new hair More to appreciate Awesome friends that are great!
On being human
To be a pigeon is a funny thing People say that You are just like a rat Of the skies And don’t like you for that
Just because of who you are They scorn and chase And drive at you in the car To be a pigeon is a funny thing
To be a seagull is a funny thing To call and call and call for food To circle on picnic watch Then find it good When someone scatters their lunch Or you dive bomb them anyway And take it yourself today
To be chased by children covered with ice cream On a sunny beach When really that’s your home Where you hang out Sometimes live’s a bitch To be a seagull is a funny thing
To be a rat is a funny thing All that shutting Doors as you walk along People shouting Brandishing brooms Yes, I’ve done that When I was scared of a rat In a room full of horse feed A long time ago.
Never more than 6 feet away From a human so they say Hmmm, to be a rat is a funny thing.
To be a human is a funny thing Privilges abound for most of us Yet we sit and think and think Of all the things that could go wrong Well in this song, Let’s be thankful that We’re not a pigeon, seagull or a rat So whilst being human can be a funny thing Let’s find the good and let’s all sing A song of gratitude today For we get to say ‘C’est La vie’ and celebrate Sometimes being human is great!
Something shifted today I felt it As I made my way Into the shower
A lightening A lifting of a load Damn It felt good
To smile From my belly And give it some welly As I watched the sun In the blue, blue sky With cheeky thoughts of fun
Something shifted today And whilst I don’t know How long this will be Because nothing lasts And everything Is all about eternity
So this too shall return Even if it is brief For I’ve known it before And it’s mine not to keep For sometimes Like the clouds in the sky We can’t see the blue But that doesn’t mean It’s gone away.
We get to be joyful We get to be sad Even when you think you’d have Learned it all by now There’s always new Something to see, Something to do. Different to feel To experiment, to hear
And whilst those who know me well Might guess I’d recently been a bit of a mess I feel a light A changing perspective A lessening of the grasping Needing to be Allowing, listening. To me.
Everything changes And remains the same I’m learning I’m finding The love through the pain It’s been fascinating This journey I’m on Today I’ll look to the sun.
Not away from the moon But feeling them both Within me Feeling the growth That allowing brings Enabling things That have been stuck To work their way out.
Something shifted today And I'm grateful for it all Thankful for the people who stood by me When I couldn't stand tall.
Mothers are often those Who do it all For little payback And when they fall They’re hard on themselves Hard on their faults Not noticing the vaults Of compassion Of care Of loving That they use everyday Only seeing the bits They’d rather throw away
They’re not rose tinted specs Quite the reverse… Hang on a sec’ What if we took a step back And see All the things we do, do, heck There’d be quite a list…
It’s no contest But I think we miss The things we ARE awesome at And perhaps if we look Or, as my dad suggested Create an achievements book Then sometimes when we’re down We can see The bigger picture The things that we CAN do right
Because sure Sometimes we fall apart Sometimes we fuck up Sometimes it’s all a great big mess But really, really I think if we look We can see And perhaps say “I can’t be awesome everyday”
“But I can try Do my best.” Which varies day to day Sometimes best is a marathon Sometimes it’s simply being able To answer the phone
And so let’s put down the stick Stop the beatings Using a bit Of that compassion On ourselves And say I am beautifully human Everyday.
Which means imperfect A friend of mine once said As she wove her threads Knitting a jumper That only God makes perfect things So each thing she made There must be a mistake
I like that idea Perhaps it’s the same With great days out It’s OK to shout To lose it And as James Joyce said: “Mistakes are the portals to discovery”
Discovering ourselves The capacity to learn And once burnt Twice shy Shouldn’t apply here Because you’re out In the arena Which is the toughest place to be
Mama you got this. Breathe. Look at the beauty If it’s hard everyday Imagine the growth That you’re doing Without even knowing
This game isn’t easy. But it’s beautiful Brilliant And even on the darkest days I wouldn’t change it for the world.
That line, I saw it on the beach, on a bag And I thought “that, I need to have” ‘You’ve got this’ It’s a good one to remember For those days when you, when I forget And sometimes there’s no one there To remind you It’s good to whisper it When you can It’s easy to say When it’s all going ok
So reminding yourself When things are easy Can help them flow better When it’s all a bit squeezy
I know that’s yet not a word But Shakespeare did it And whilst I’d rather not compare To the great writers I’m taking the liberty here It fits perfectly What I’m trying to say
Squeezy: when it all feels A bit tight, a bit tough Kind of like birth Through that tiny canal "I don’t know if I can breathe…" 'In a moment you will.'
So if you’ve been practicing (See it’s sort of like birthing) The ‘you’ve got this line’ When things are easy The next time things Get a little squeezy Hopefully it’ll help a bit Because I know you’re amazing Even if you forget it.
Mama, you’ve got this.
May Love Win The Day
It’s Pride weekend here Which got me thinking Who really can decide Who can be a bride And who can’t.
"You can’t be with them." 'No, seriously Who do you think you are? What century Importantly Do you think we are in?'
You can’t accept that I don’t want this We’re not talking about a cup of tea But a life, a love, a way to be Who can choose And who is the fool?
I don’t want to go on About patriarchal society and white men There’s enough of that And I could be wrong There’s plenty of great gents That don’t fit that bill I’m feeling no ill Towards them
But the judgement Towards another Whatever lover They wish to take I don’t understand How that can offend When it’s nothing to do With your life and you Still want to object
Get a life Go away Find something else To do today And let love be Whatever lover Someone else choose
May love win The day today And tomorrow I really think it ought to.
Letting things be
On loving oneself On letting things be Of letting things wash Over me
I’m learning It’s taking me years And bucketloads Of tears I feel like I keep Reaching for help Striving Reading
How to do better I’m sure that I can Right now I’m reading ‘Joyful Wisdom’
I’m sharing it now Because it feels Life changing In case you wish To inspire yourself It’s a book not to leave There on the shelf
But get it down Dive in and dive deep I read it each night Before I go to sleep
And when I awake I read a page Or more and if there’s time I sit and I ponder
I seriously feel that That and great friends Have rescued me recently And feel my heart mends
Allowing discomfort Which before always felt Like something to run from Something to fight I’d be legging it Into the night
And whilst I’m no Buddha I’m slowly learning The insights within Definitely yearning
For the wisdom there To impart in here And slowly it is There’s been less tears
This pain I know needed to be felt Experienced within Noticed without And space, time and reading Have definitely felt That I can be healing
It might not be for you There’s other things too But if you’re needing Something right now Reading something that resonates Might show you how
To move forwards With grace and a smile I wish you love Hugs and more And know that Anything is possible
If I can learn To let things wash over me I believe anything, anything Is possible to be.
Hey! Thanks for being here and reading my poems. I hope you found something to resonate, something to think or enjoy.