For Monday at Onestop poetry

I missed yesterdays photoprompt as I spent the day with my mother in the local A&E department.  My mother is 83 and collapsed while we were out shopping.  I know we hear a lot of bad stuff about the NHS but at times like this it is invaluable.  No worrying about cost or insurance, just good treatment and helpful people.   Tesco's people were great too, helpful and kind.  Bless them all.


So, free verse.  Not my strong suit.  Here goes anyway.

 Thanks to Chris Galford for the use of the photo.

Scratched Out

There may be jewels here,

diamonds scattered amid the broken glass,

in this splashy art, adorning walls

of cankered concrete, there may be

a masterpiece that’s worthy of

its place in history.

But here they’re lost,

tarnished by the dirt and grime

impossible to recognise

like solid gold around the neck

of some homeless woman

bedecked with trashy bling.

Pure notes drowned

by blaring screams of individuality

whose night-creeping performer

declare their independence

safe in blank anonymity,

hidden freedom writers.

For anyone wondering about the title, graffitti is derived from the Italian work meaning scratched.

Not Dying, Yet.

A workday morning so it is up at 5:30.  Hit the bathroom and do the morning stuff as quietly as possible then its downstairs and start the day. 

I’m in remission at the moment so first thing is to check that is still the case.  Aches and pains are at general Myalgia level so that is ok.  Stomach is off and I don’t fancy breakfast, not a good sign.  Head feels ok though; no dull ache, flashing pains, etc..  So far so good.  No ringing in the ears, noise sensitivity at normal level and I don’t want to crawl back into bed and hibernate so it looks like the remission continues.

Feed the cats first, there choice not mine.  Smell of the cat food makes me want to heave. Make a coffee, decaff of course.  Thanks to the remission, this mornings ‘breakfast’ only consists of a couple of immunosuppressant tablets and a couple of extra-strength antihistamines.  I will think about solid food when the stomach settles a bit.

Into uniform, t-shirt under my blouse although it is a warm day.  That is so that when my skin splits where the eczema is bad, the blood won’t show on my uniform.

Run through my relaxation exercises and relax for a few minutes while finishing my coffee.  Take Mum a cup of tea.  Reassure her that today is not a ‘bad’ day and I don’t need to get a doctors appointment set up.

Into the car and off to work.  The good thing about a 07:00 start is that I miss the ‘rush hour’ which is more like a ‘crawl two hours’.  It usually starts around 7:30.  I like driving so I find going to work quite relaxing, even when the traffic is bad.

Brace myself and go into the office, saying good morning to everyone.  Not too much negativity flying this morning, everyone seems in a pretty good mood.  Deal with the usual morning issues that have had to wait for the Team Leaders attention.  They rarely actually need me to do anything but reassure but that is part of the job.

Into the office to check peoples takings, paperwork, etc. from the previous day.  On a good day this takes about 2 hours but if there is something wrong it can take a lot longer.

Book-ups checked, it’s onto the data entry.  We are in the middle of changing systems so the interface isn’t up to speed at present, which means a lot of manual entry of data.  Complex, fiddly and needs to be accurate.  All the time I am being interrupted to deal with those little issue that arise but it is going ok.

No break today as it is constantly busy.  It is a good job I like cold coffee because I’m not going to get a hot cup today.

Empty the pay-stations and top up the floats.  Still keeping on top of things.

All the money balances.  Hallelujah, that makes a change.

Check all the data entry is correct, file all the paperwork, ‘close the day’ on the computer to set a fix-point for the auditors.  That is it, now I can change nothing on that front.  So yesterday is over, time to start today.

Tour the team and check everyone is reasonably happy.  Sort out their floats and change with them.  As always, someone wants a ‘quick chat’ which turns into a longer counselling session.  Then the late turn arrive, including my relief.  Time for handover, safe-check and home.

Another day over.  A relatively quite one this time, no-one has even shouted at me.  Usually by this time I have been verbally abused at least twice and often physically threatened as well.  No-one has cried at me either.  No-one really needed my help though, so I missed my daily fix of turning some-ones day round.  Oh well, you can’t have everything.

Although I have spent 7 hours at my desk according to my job description, the reality is that with lifting backs of coins that weigh about 5 kilos (10 lbs) each, walking backwards and forwards through the offices to assist people and heaving boxes of paperwork about, I am physically wrecked.  I have to watch the tiredness level as too much fatigue means I am out of remission and back on medication.

So, home, shopping, reading and TV before bed at 8pm to be ready for tomorrow.  ‘Supper’ is 2 more antihistamines and a statin tablet for my cholesterol levels.

A good day.

If the remission doesn’t hold, it will be extra medication twice a day.  Missing one dose makes me ill, two could mean I die.  The fatigue levels go up, I get paranoid, stress leads to palpitations and anxiety attacks, the Myalgia gets so bad I can barely move and I live on ibruprofen.  The side effect of my illness are also killers but more slowly.  Obesity,  chronic fatigue and stress.

So what is this killer illness I suffer from?  Have you guessed? I wonder how close you got.

It is depression, I am mentally ill.  Now, are you still sympathetic or have your feelings changed?

Memories Duet

Chance words strum wistful melodies
from strands of cherished memories,
the tunes we sang murmur again
though muted by the edge of pain
that lingers now I sing solo
duets we sang not long ago.

My voice is carried by the breeze
and bounces off the waving trees
to echo back to me once more,
I hear what I'm waiting for,
the sound comes back in altered key
as though again you sing with me

I was magic.

Sunday Photography Interview (Part 2): Rob Hanson & Poetry Challenge

 Photograph used by the kind permission of Rob Hanson

I Was Magic

Oh, I was magic in my day.

When it took months to journey there

I bought them nearer through the air

and you heard what they had to say.

I shrank the earth to human scope

and let far distant families

converse across the miles with ease

to share their sorrow and their hope.

How swiftly you forget my place

in your expanding history,

I’m lost amid the mad glory

of technology’s rapid pace.

No, I never moved from this wall,

photography was not my scene,

I hold no snaps of where you’ve been,

my job was just to make that call.

Now things have gone off on their way

my receiver is rattled no more,

children don’t know what I am for

but I was magic in my day.

Growing up

http://onestoppoetry.com/2011/06/friday-poetically-with-brian-miller-17.html

Looking at kids and their feeling, I got talking to a young man (13) who I got to know when he was having some problems at home.  He is facing the choices of where to go with his education and this poem is one he produced to explain the confusion and depression he is feeling.

My Future

When I grow up, I want to be me.

I want to do things I like to do,

I want to have enough money,

I don’t want to always worry like you.

I don’t mind working instead of play,

I don’t know what I can do best

I don’t want to waste my life anyway,

to be a loser like the rest.

Must I really know right now

what I want to do forever?

I can’t decide yet anyhow,

I just don’t know I’m not that clever.

Thing change so fast how can I know

what jobs there’ll be when I leave school?

Who knows how things are going to go?

I guess I’m just a stupid fool.

Graffiti

One Stop Poetry the Arts and Graffiti #streetart

So, is it art or vandalism?  Or can it be both?

Shake and clang, hiss and spray,

make your mark,  run away,

“I wos ‘ere”, painted scrawl

top of bridge, subway wall.

Vivid colours paint the scene,

hard, sharp lines, harsh and clean,

urban art form of today

gentle brush replaced by spray.

Take a chance, break the rules,

safety first is for fools,

prove your worth, do or die

winners live, losers cry.

It’s the way we see our lives,

we’re not workers, stuck in hives,

paint the world we live each day,

show the things we see our way.

Thanks to Anthony Desmond, Chris Galford and Moondustwriter for the thought provoking article.

one stop on Free Verse.

Form Monday -with guest host Joy Jones – FREE VERSE

to understand free verse, try the link.

Time dances past my reach

and laughs at my attempts

to grasp the passing moments.

Memories flicker and fade

or warp and twist their shape

to change the minute seen

into a new event.

Meanings morph with mood

until my thoughts and dreams

become the starlight sky

where each small point of light

is not the way it seems

but fractured histories

strewn across the heavens,

each a glimpse of time

yet no two times the same

nor do they show their date

or lie in simple patterns

that say ‘this happen then’.

Long ago stories are told over space

in eons and ages, long distant pace.

One Stop Poetry Challenge – the Photography of Rob Hanson

Another great interview and photo challenge over at
http://onestoppoetry.com/
I am also catching up so here is my attempt at the Ottava Rima.

 Picture courtesy of Rob Hanson

A man, a bench, a chosen tool,

he tweaks and fixes, makes and mends,

while sitting on that worn old stool

he works at pieces for his friends

who thank him yet think him a fool

for wasting all the time he spends

inventing gadgets for no pay,

yet he’s content at end of day.

I have many memories from my childhood of other kids grandfathers in their garden shed spending hours lovingly restoring of fixing something that could probably have been replaced for mere pence.  My own father was more of the 'Bodgit and Hope' school but I did learn a lot from him, mainly how not to do things such as:

don't  use a water-based glue to fix the bird table,

tin foil and sticky tape may work on the exhaust for a while but it won't pass the MOT.

Real life gets in the way.

After a forced week off poetry, prose, blogging and the internet, I am hopefully back for a few days at least.  I have been doing a little photography.
McVitie is not fond on the camera but doesn't mind playing with the strap while I try to take his photo

But he lets me know when he has had enough.