Sitting out under the stars In the dark Filled with grace You know your place A tiny part of the piece Of this huge puzzle
Like ants crawling On the surface of a stone No, smaller still Like cells within the body As they work together In symbiotic beauty Can we do that Is it our duty? To work together Not drive apart?
Demanding ever more than we need A constant, never ending greed To grab more, see more Endlessly explore But quietly forget That where we live, Our home, we don’t know it yet
What if we knew our neighbours Had dances, parties, So many tables And instead of always grasping Always seeking We started speaking To everyone around us
Saw what we could do Mending a gate, a flue Hanging out together Not always, forever But getting to know those around us Sometimes they frustrate us Sure! That’s life But so often it’s like unturned stones We really have no idea What’s around us here Whilst we jet off A retreat with Wim Hof A concert in Dublin If we can get in
But what if our home I know, I’m like a dog with a bone Just I think there’s so much beauty Right on our doorstep That we somehow forget
Rules of Engagement
“If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” How many times we heard that as kids? Thumper’s dad tells him in Bambi If you wanted to know the hall Of fame that came from
Don’t walk into me as you go by Or at least if you do Look me in the eye And please apologise
In my ideal world Insults would not be flung From your spiteful tongue As you drive away On a sunny day
And if you need to laugh and jeer With other neighbours around here That’s all OK They may see through it too one day
I can’t do the dance anymore And simply ignore it When you shout down the path ‘You vicious thing’ at my cat Who was quietly sat Minding his business In front of me the whole time Whilst the cat fight broke out That you blamed on him
I’m done pretending this is normal As I hear from community groups The postal service Other neighbours And ex neighbours That I’m not alone
And I don’t need anyone to atone For the total BS I’ve put up with But I am done pretending it’s OK Pretending it’s just another day
The exaggerated whistling and singing When you see me sat out working It’s a little like a pantomime dame Sets no flame To my anger
For I’m not sure that anger there is Puzzlement, confusion, sure I don’t see what’s the point Life is short, what do you get From attempting to make someone else’s time A bit of a misery here
So enough with the insults The fake laughter, the shouting “That silly bitch at the end, Who called the police on me” The thing is, you see Record my child as you walk past the car With her in and yes I will ask you to stop Don’t listen and damn right I’ll do more
It’s been over 2 years now And it’s really not funny So, as Thumper’s dad said To his small bunny ‘If you can’t say anything nice, Don’t say anything at all.’
Enough. Enough. Enough.
As an epilogue I’d like to say That I’m grateful for you that day When you threatened to ‘Do me for harassment’ If again I spoke to you
For it bothered me so much What I’d done to upset you so And now, I really know It’s not you, it’s me
It’s taken time Anyone else I’m there to defend Immediately, with fire in my belly But for myself A quieter way
So taking on challenges Around resilience and strength Has been brilliant this year for me And I can really see It’s not you, it’s me
That is, it’s not how you behave that matters But what I take on And whilst in the past I was in tatters Striken with anxiety It was all pointless really Because none of that counts There really is no amount Of crap you can fling at me That can’t make me see It’s not you, it’s me
It’s my resilience that matters But whilst I’m here I’ve fucking had enough It’s time to stop.
Enough Enough Enough.
Fitting in
On perspective And how which way You look might count So much social media Then there’s the screens And in magazines Air brushing, I think needlessly But it matters which cheek Damn it which cheekbone is in The picture that you’re taking now And how, how, how Did we get to here?
Was it through fear Of fitting in? Or needing to look Remarkably thin? I don’t know But what it does show To me Is how vacuous it is This society we’re in
Our new shelter
It’s fair to say I’m a little obsessed With this new shelter we have I do feel blessed I’m awaiting fairy lights A fire pit too In here already I sit and I write It’s really quite a delight
I think I may spend all winter in here ‘Yes, yes thank you my dear A hot drink I’d love To sip in the hut’ It’s sort of a bench With a shelter on top There’s blankets (by the score!) For when it’s not hot
I’ve only been back from the holiday For about ten days But each day I sit in here Mist, rain or sunny days Because the shelter is perfect It extends out Beyond the knees Did I hear you shout “Where is it from Because I think I need one?”
The Rustic Log Store We found it through searching images For ones that looked like this A bit like a boat No, that’s not a hoax Have a look for yourself This is commissioned Not bought from the shelf
But love it I do And I share in case you Would love to get yourself One of these too.
Writing this, I feel a little like Anne of Green Gables when her story got used to promote flour - except I wrote this knowingly. I really am so pleased with the she-shed, arbour or hut, it goes by interchangeable names. The cats is also rather pleased too - a blanket in there and he's away!
Crochet
One stitch at a time Mostly in a line Bit by bit You see how Things get bigger somehow
It’s a little like life And the culmination Of effort And how Repeated small actions Can help us stay afloat When it’s most needed When the living isn’t easy That effort is most worthwhile
So practicing breathing Meditation Or swimming Can all come into play When needed most When the sun isn’t shining
When things feel tough And maybe when sometimes Love isn’t quite enough To get us through But one step at a time One stitch in a line
Makes A Big Difference
When you look back From where you have come It’s so far Who’d have thought You’d have done That?
Seasons
Happy days Summer haze Autumn drawing near
There’s a part of me Not ready yet Holding on Lest I forget What it’s like To sit in the sun Feeling the warmth On my face
There’s a part of me Not ready yet For the dark nights Lest I forget Walking the dog Without a coat In the balmy evening
There’s a part of me Not ready yet For the cold Wrapping up warm Everywhere I go And whilst people Speak of snow I know where I want to go
To endless summer But hold on Surely that’s not Really a thing
For as in life Some rain must fall The summer turns To winter for all Well of course Depending where you live And whilst I might give My right arm for sun sun sun There’s a part of me that says Seasons are fun
And whilst There’s a part of me Not ready yet Sometimes I do forget That autumn time I really love The leaves, that crunch Clear skies above
So… whilst there’s a part of me Not ready yet This year I’m going to try forget That part and instead Reach out, embrace That cold wind upon my face
Lighting the candles Snuggling up With great friends Or a good book
And I know there’s a part of me Not ready yet But I know, I hope That summer won’t forget And will return Another year
Community
Peace, harmony, unity All about community
Not always working well Sometimes there’s a bad smell But generally, usually Working together
Like birds of a feather? Like companions of a sort Some liking sports But all doing their bit Helping sail the ship
Along And singing The songs Of time
Communities mean different things To different people It’s hard to say what’s right and wrong But pleasantly smiling Lending a tin of beans A cup of sugar Or mending some seams
Each contributing different skills To the table Some so old They aren’t able But they’ve done their bit over the years And now we’ll look out for them Be their ears Or their eyes Reading a book If it’s hard for them to look At the pages
So many stages Of people Making up Communities
Entitlement
“I deserve not to put up with this” ‘Seriously I shouldn’t have to…’ “Don’t take the piss” But what really are we entitled to? And when it all falls down What to do?
Carolyn Myss in Findhorn I saw talk And in the weekend she mentioned About how we are entitled to nothing And whatever we have to see as a gift That theory doesn’t take the piss Out of society’s need for more Or when that neighbour does ignore
Our need for a smile For polite conversation But actually Need is a derangement This is of course merely an opinion But ‘entitled to nothing’ Could be liberating
That’s not to say I’m loving The New World Order ‘Have nothing, be happy’ idea But of current times I have a fear That we’re so attached So precious about Every belonging we have in our house
That dusty collection Of antiques From a bygone age But also so precious Easily offended Territorial And no good at sharing
Why do we all need a broom? An extra room? For our clutter And to muster Up the courage To go in and dust.
‘Dust if you must…’ A wonderful poem With sentiments I’d be happy to sew in To my life To my everyday ways
Seeing how we can get outside Go have more fun Or why don’t you Sit in the sun Or… never stop working Slogging your guts out For ‘the man’ Because you’re entitled Buy more, decorate the house Can’t sit on your arse
Gotta get higher Up the career ladder Keep going Don’t stay still These things matter Promotions Fat bank balances Champagne flutes that shatter If you drop them on Polished slate floors Or throw them at doors
For not just entitled to stuff Also endless love Til it fails Til it doesn’t match The fairy tales But did it ever? Or did you just take for granted It’d be happily ever after?
Now, why are you still waiting? Nourish what you have Be it a small terraced house Decorated with voodoo Or a detached friendly space Full of family fun and so you Know what? To feel grateful a lot Is probably something Most people do not Know how to do
Entitled to nothing Not even clean water There but the grace of god Ought to Be somehow more In our awareness you see Because somehow here I was born me