Scratch card

It’s a holiday

No more flying economy

It’s a villa in the sun

It’s my resignation letter

The door flung open to something better

It’s always having fun

It’s the for sale sign outside this old house

It’s the keys to a country pile

It’s no more Ford fiesta

It’s not quite a private jet, but

It’s cruising down the lanes in style

It’s providing for my family

It’s helping out my mates

It’s eating from the silver spoon

and the poshest china plates

It’s adiós to humdrum

It’s sparing no expense

It’s never having to put things back

or look after the last few pence

It’s endless possibilities

It’s ‘take me to this place, driver’

Whilst it oozes promise in my hand

Once scratched…

it’s just the waste of a fiver

The yellow day

A yellow day

when all previous had been red

A door half open

awaiting a shove

Not knowing

if there would be another yellow day

the opportunity to take a gamble

and muster all my brave

On this determined and important yellow day

I pick at the fear sewn fast upon my sleeve

Loosening the stitches as I tiptoe cautiously

out into the blue

Step after uncertain step into

the glistening shallow depths I pad

Eyes darting all about me

At the age of seven

at a party

I half watched a film

from between the gaps in my fingers

Set in the seas

beside a popular beach

where a mammoth, toothy (plastic)

beast from the deep

introduced by a pulsing musical score

would pop up at intervals to feast

on oblivious holiday makers

enjoying the cool waters.

My friends all watched, enthralled

While I hid behind the sofa

Back in the now

I allow my self to float

My feet lifted from the sandy base

A sentry, scanning the flawless horizon

Alert

Prepared

Ready to get my fight on

Thanks to countless video clips

appearing daily in my Facebook feed

I have schooled myself in the art of surviving encounters with toothy beasts from the deep

I know that I definitely should not swim away

more likely to be confused for prey

So I’d position myself head on

and I’d use my arms to sway

those gaping jaws

angling the nose to pass right by

I’ll be it’s equal not it’s prey

Not here for consumption

Not today

Not any day

I stay like this a while

realise there is no threat

no teeth appear to snatch

and drag me to the gloomy depths

Reflect that the danger lived only in my mind

I float in these healing waters

and gradually unwind

On this amazing yellow day

I make peace with the whole ocean

not a morsel to be snacked on

I relax

enjoy the motion

The lift

of rolling wave

on glorious wave

A tiny bit less yellow

for all my coming days

Getting on a bit

I’ve got a moustache

If it were November

and I were of another gender

I could gain a few sponsors

I can’t see too well either

I simply cannot focus

Or read without donning

My expensive varifocals

I’ve got permanent aches

knees, back or hip

My hair is getting thinner

as my hormone levels dip

I just can’t hack the pace

My idea of staying up late

Involves a Netflix series

Some time just past eight

I’m no longer a spring chicken

Look at youngsters with such envy

Got a shocking short-term memory

If only they could send me

Back in time

to those years when I was young

I’d never once feel boredom

I’d be out there having fun

September

A cold house, all business, trousers, formal shirts

The setting summer sun draws in the cruel return to work

I set up the sad lamp to replace some of the rays

To repair the damage wrought by the shortening of our days

A shot at lifting mood in a world that’s turning dark

A mad-blood being stirred in the streets of every town

A restlessness, an anger after years of being held down

On socials we’re dividing, hurling abuse at one another

Picking out every difference , gender, wealth, colour

Name throwing – gammon, commie, loon, retard, bellend, clown

Are regularly sewn into every comment thread

Intolerance, misogyny, sometimes wishing people dead

Disharmony and discontent caused by algorhythms

A divided nation, disunited into schisms

Distorted truths and downright lies within the narrative we’re fed.

There are days I want to step away, go seek a little light

Few are those; I get sucked in and feel that I must fight

Perhaps if we all chose to make better use of our phones

To call instead of scroll, our communities would grow

Into supportive caring networks, with a clear sense of what is right.

September, the month of change, the start of a decline

I refuse to let you drag me down, I choose to start a climb

To the top of this mountain and I’m bringing you all with me

To share a loving vision of how this nation could and should be

Make your point if you have to, but BE FACTUAL AND POLITE.

Easter moods of a menopausal Hockey Mum

Light traffic on fast roads

Dazzling sunshine, a welcome fresh breeze

Touching the picture-perfect landscape

Fields, hills, brooks, trees

An Easter jaunt

For the non-religious

Worshipping sport

Not too sacrilegious

Living on nerves

I really ought not to

Racked up too many miles

And so much money gone through

So much of my life

Sat in the cold

Too invested in the outcome

If the cold, hard truth be told

Enabling a hobby

To be of too much import

It’s not life or death

It’s just my children’s sport

I can’t exactly pinpoint

When it stopped being fun

Yet I know the day’s approaching

When I’ll finally say I’m done

And I’ll mean it!

Mother

It’s impossible to put into words

the meaning of my mother

Where would I even start?

Words are so small

so insignificant

too easily ignored to merit the task

To demonstrate the importance of her

To explain the essentiality of life

guided by  the one who bore me,

raised me, formed me

into the shape

of a half-decent human being

Guiding me with an eternal love

fostered within the miracle of creation

Question

Question: How to engage young minds

that have no interest in being engaged?

We are trying to expand the horizons

of people whose life/ lives exist only

within the parameters of their snaps,

their tiktoks, the world as shown

by influencers. For whom reality

is wanting to be a superstar rather than

wanting to excel at a skill or talent. Who

desire fame for fame’s sake but grow

up in houses with blinds closed

to the outside world.

When children and their families’ minds

reside only within the confines of estates

and fun and sun holidays with beer

and egg and chips on the menu, how

do we hook them on learning? How

can we enrich their cultural capital? How

do we turn them on to the life that exists

outwith the walls of one small town?

I appreciate that this may come across as condescending. I know that a fun and sun holiday is better than no holiday at all for many and that travel is a privilege for those with greater means.  This poem is on closed-mindedness and the doors it closes to us. We may live in physically limiting circumstances but the mind is always free to live a more varied existence, to try something new off the menu instead of plumping for egg and chips.