As I continue to rescue material from my online archives before the demise of MSN community sites in February 2009, here are some poems by local disabled writers previously published in Pinpoint Magazine Online.
Poetry by Barry AstburyHomeless in Kensington
Morning.
Sky bright
Clear, cold
Blue
To the right, where shops and houses
Tumble, fall downhill
Stop.
A figure, old, yet hunched in
The desperate posture of a forlorn child
Cold, hungry
Sits, waits,
High above, left, climbing the crystal sky
An aeroplane
Glistens, gleams
Carrying it's fortunates, uncaring, with the morning,
To the far side of the world.
To My Carer
I am tall, I am handsome, I am strong
my courage knows no limits,
I can conquer any foe
succeed in every battle, though the struggle may be long
I vanquish all opponents and constantly I know
that my shining silver, my body burnished gold
my spirit that of heroes, who lived long, long ago.
It's important that I say these things so you
and the world will realise
I watch, I know,
I see all this reflected in your eyes.
Poetry by John FoleyThe Cure
They may have found a cure for the common cough or cold
they tell you it's best to stay indoors, and "do just what you're told"
They tell you how to brush your teeth every night and every morn'
But they haven't found just what went wrong the day that you were born
They say with modern medicine, things are getting better day-by-day
and that we've come a long, long way since then, but if they had their way
They would lock you up and throw away the key
rather than give you your dignity!
What type of society are we living in today?
which allows the use of human lives in such a hideous way
Have they no compassion, or regard for who we are?
It's ok for "MR BIG" in his flashy open-top car.
We may be just "poor crips" to the world outside the door
far better-off in "special" schools and crawling on the floor
But in every modern workforce, if they took a different stance
They would see that we are equal if given half a chance.
The Fortress
Gleaming shadows upon fortress walls
A timely reminder
Of days long past
When battles raged
Enemy against enemy stood proud
As once did their fathers before them
Now, only children play
On long summer days
And picnic in the grounds
Which once rang with cannon's roar
And the mighty warrior within.
Hope
A new day dawns in sombre mood
my head reeling from the night before.
Parties, banners everywhere
waving briskly in the morning air
A time of reflection and scattered glimpses
a century has passed and died of old age
Two thousand years of history gone by before our eyes
And now a new millennium has dawned amidst blue skies
With every heart and every voice a new song
echoes across the land
And love and peaceful harmony
in unison we stand
Through every brand new decade with every brand new year
May peace and understanding replace hate and war and fear.
Poetry and Creative Writing by Sibella HickmanYOU
You are you and nobody else canever be you.
You are unique.
Your life will never be repeated.
No one has ever lived exactly as you do.
Value yourself and treasure yourself.
Don't let a moment go by without loving yourself.
You are you and nobody else can ever be you.
Work hard at being you.
Make the most of yourself and you will excel
You are valuable to God and valuable to mankind.
You can make a difference
Everything you create and everything you do.
Is unique to you -
Value them and share them
Because.....
They might just change somebody else's life
who knows what good will come of it?
TREMA
Trema lives with me. She moved in about 4 years ago uninvited. Before she moved in, I used to see her occasionally hanging around the neighbourhood but I never used to take much notice of her. It was only much later that I recognised that I only saw her when I was feeling very rough.
She is very mischievous and she drives me up the wall sometimes with her games. Other people can’t see her and it took me a long time to realise. I have to learn to live with her to recognise when she is going to start playing her tricks on me and how to get her to settle down and behave herself. I have asked her to leave many times but to know avail. I have begged God to take her away from me many times, but he has chosen to give her to me. She is special and the more I fight and resist her, the more she plays up.
Four years ago I didn’t take much notice of her, but the less attention I paid her, the more demanding she became. I remember the first day she stopped me doing something that other people take for granted - walking. I was walking home from the bus stop one day and she was following me; she grabbed my right foot from behind, she turned it over so that I couldn’t put my foot down flat on the pavement and I had to sit down for fear of falling over. I tried to get up again and carry on but I couldn’t; I had to ask somebody to help me to walk to the end of the road. This continued for many days.
She moved into my home and she prevented me from walking because she held my legs down so that I couldn’t lift them; I couldn’t climb the stairs easily; and to get around I had to drag myself across the floor. She thought this was hilarious and she was laughing. I thought it was a temporary blip in my health and that if I rested I could get back on track. This didn’t happen, she came to the hospital with me and sat while I had MRI scans and some Xrays. Of course because she is invisible, the scans show nothing. I was getting increasingly frustrated; I couldn’t do everyday tasks; I could no longer teach and I had to be very organised and before I could do anything, even when I wanted visit friends, I needed to plan every detail e.g. how I was going to get there. She wanted to be involved in and do everything I did.
She is like a demanding and precocious child who is homeless and she clings to me like a limpet. Over the last three years my health has declined, I now clearly see her because her presence is more obvious; this helps me to understand why my health has declined and also to deal with the frustration. Living with Trema makes life a challenge, but, funnily enough she has taught me a lot. She has taught me to be patient with myself, to be more self-controlled and less angry and frustrated. I have learnt the importance of accepting what I can and cannot do and to recognise my limitations.
When I spend time with my friends Trema goes very quiet and she watches my friends and she is better behaved. Spending time with my friends gives me a break from Trema’s games. She comes everywhere with me so I try to do things that she enjoys, to keep her quiet e.g. she loves music, which I also love; so we go to classical concerts together and we listen to good modern music e.g. David Gray and the Lighthouse Family. She enjoys doing the things I used to enjoy doing e.g. making cards and cooking but she is very messy which I have learned to live with.
Two years ago she started playing a different game. She had got bored with just holding and shaking my legs so she started blowing dry ice in front of my eyes, so I could not see things clearly; she also blows shredded paper like confetti around. Everything looks blurred and patchy as a result of this. Some of the consequences of this game are that I can no longer read normal print or sometimes even large print at leisure. I need somebody with me when I go out to protect me from danger because Trema prevents me from seeing the traffic clearly.
Despite everything that Trema does life goes on and I find I can be joyful because God is with me and he has given me a lot of help in the form of equipment and people who are willing to do the things for me that I can no longer do myself. God has also made me aware of dormant ability that I am now using. Trema is called Multiple Sclerosis by my consultant doctor at the hospital, but I prefer to call her Trema because I have to live with her and I don’t know what Multiple Sclerosis means, it is not a very friendly name, is it?
Poetry by Phil HillMOTHERS EMBRACE
Indoctrinated by her mother,
Abused in an asylum,
She'd watch her kids taken from her,
One by One
Locked away for four years.
Put in a straight jacket in a padded cell,
They stripped her of her own will,
Thought by thought.
Chased through city streets,
Force fed Electro Convulsive Treatment
They destroyed parts of her memory
Recollection vy recollection.
Living on city streets,
Sleeping in a cardboard box,
She discovered her own identity,
Year by year.
At 70 years of age
Her first birthday party,
She was given recognition as a human being,
Candle by candle
Stripped of motherhood,
Sitting alomgside her son
They hugged together expressing what they could not say
Second by second
Living with cancer,
Avoiding the medics that had abused her,
She finally died in her own way,
Cancellation by cancellation.
Dedicated to the late Iris Hill by her son Philip Hill
Written November 2000
AWAY IN A MANGER
by Phil Hill
No one could be found as a genuine helper,
No room in the community shelter
No stable but a revolving door,
Three men had visited their assessment
according to the law
And his angel had deserted him once more
To a stale smelling asylum
The only shelter
A lonely man slumped on a bed,
That he called his helter skelter,
No visiting this place of living dead
An Aunt called Rene through groceries she sifts
From what she pulled out she bore him gifts,
An apple, a packet of biscuits and a bottle of milk,
A baby he had once also lain, in swaddling sheets,
His boasted second coming they did not greet.
She sat as he cried, his conception was overdue
That as mad as he could be
He could have feelings too
She suspended his hand and it quivered a lot
That’s the way it is she said when your nerves are shot
I sat in the church as her eulogy was read
It was not that bad but a great deal went unsaid
And I told my brother the missing plot
Then he said that she told him before she died
That returning home from the visit she had cried
Dedicated to Rene Somerville (1921 —1995)
Written 25th & 26th December 2000
Poetry and Creative Writing by R.P. Law
The Seaside
It was breezy and dull, with the sea creeping inexorably, as the worm casts were starting to be dissolved by the lapping waves. Already the sea was offering up some of the flotsam and jetsam of mans ignorant and wilful despoiling of his environment.
The wind was tugging at the metal rigging halyards causing them to slap against the aluminium masts, making the whole sea front to be party to yet more gentle noise.
Looking to the right of the beach one could clearly see the night lines already baited up ready for the fish to be hooked. There were signs that some people had spent several hours cockling, using garden rakes and then washing the cockles in the sea before taking them home to cook and eat.
On the other side of the river one could see the strings of the Christmas lights strung up using the normal street lamps.
All in all it was a very peaceful end of the day.
Today
Today we may be tearful,
Tomorrow, we may be cheerful,
Today we may be in pain,
But one thing is certain,
Today will never come again.
So if today you are full of sorrow,
Things could be better by tomorrow.
The road through life has many a bend,
But try hard and you will get there in the end
So when the road is long and narrow
Don’t forget there is a tomorrow
And if your cross is hard to bear
Find strength, through the power of prayer.
Gone Fishing
It was a very hot sultry morning, with not a cloud in sight. I was bored and decided to go fishing. Essential supplies were gathered, including a four pack of beer. So I set off down to a small river behind the large imposing house that was our family home. Whistling happily as I wandered, I spotted some painted butterflies perched on a large violet buddleia bush. So beautiful to watch and marvel at, I decided to tarry awhile and look!
Continuing my wandering I arrived at the river bank. After finding a nice spot under trees to keep me out of direct sunlight, the next job was to fix the cans of beer to the fishing line and place the cans in the river, to keep cool. Then I sat down to consider and ponder life in the round. Noise of someone approaching along the bank raised me from my reverie and I looked up with anticipation.
It was Bill, a good friend of mine, who sat down beside me. It seemed obvious that now was the time to offer Bill a beer. I pulled up the cans and proffered one to Bill. With a swish, each can was opened and we wished each other good health. After desultory chat, we looked around to see what was going on around the river.
Quietly we watched and there was a beautiful blue kingfisher busy fishing. With a sudden dive it disappeared from view, only to reappear with a fish in it’s beak. With water drops splashing around it, it made it’s way to a small tree and swallowed it’s snack whole. After another beer each, we gathered up our waste and headed home.
Mother’s Day
We have Christmas in December
When families meet and friends remember
And we all have a birthday, every year
When we have cards from far and near.
But in March we have a mother’s day
When mothers are remembered in a very special way.
Some come early, some come late
But children remember that special date.
Some have one, some have more
We mothers look forward to seeing them at the door.
Some are toddlers, some in their teens
Others are quite old, but the same it means.
In church the children walk back down the aisle
And hand their mother a present with a smile.
This day more than any others
Makes one glad to be a mother.
The Coach Hotel, Coleshill High Street, Christmas Eve 2007.
Yet another flood at Blythe Bridge, January 16th 2008
After a cold start to spring, the first young Blackbird
On April 6th we woke up to 3 inches of snow, which
June: Minnows in the Blythe, the 3rd cleanest lowland
Common Lizard sunbathing at Aberystwyth, September 17th.
Sunrise at Coleshill Parkway, October 6th 2008. The sun has begun
Common Lizard sunbathing at Aberystwyth, September 17th.
Sunrise at Coleshill Parkway, October 6th 2008. The sun has begun
