Mothers

The strong, the weary , the substitute and the absent… you are doing a great job….

 

 

happy mothers day card beside pen macaroons flowers and box near coffee cup with saucer
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Mothers,

once were little girls, dreaming of the beautiful world

in which to make their mark

Cuddling their teddy or little rag doll,

not knowing life could be so stark

for becoming a mother gives feelings like no other

in the lightness and the dark

The fear begins at the very beginning

and seems to never abate

the love so great,  hard to contemplate

how to keep you from ever getting hurt

fear of the unknown as we watch you grow

always on high alert

the bonds that they share with the children they bare

is one, only they can know

they prep and they nurture and try not to hurt ya

as they watch their babies grow

into upstanding adults, as they swim without paddles

when finally, they must let you go

They continue to worry, so try not to hurry

just go about life at your best

It’s hard on your mother, to let you discover as

you seek out and fly from the nest

Some, not so lucky to feel this love or have the same strong bond

you may live with another, not your actual mother,

who will love you and hope you’ll respond

for love it can come, in all shapes and sizes

and mother’s can come in all sorts of guises

it’s the love that matters,  no matter life’s tatters

that brings you into the fold

so on this mothers day, all that I pray

is that ‘I love you’, is what’s being told

 

 

Redress….

Watching the program on RTE,:Redress, breaking the silence, I was very sad, angry and upset for the victims. I wrote down words some had used and put them into this poem. For all people of abuse, institutional or otherwise, Keep fighting, keep surviving,

black and white black and white depressed depression
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Redress

  

What am I?

I ask of you, I ask of me

In the eyes and minds of others, do you see me?

Do we see the trees, in the woods?

The intricacies, the forms and shapes

Each piece, from root to tip

Some of it medicine, some of it poison

What is at the core?

Covered and disguised from and by

Outward appearance

The beauty, the ugly, the refined, the wild

Enclosed, hidden, cocooned, protected?

Still it grows, it lives, it flourishes and survives

It smiles, frowns, laughs and cries

It performs, protects, gives life and reason.

It can multiply, it is duplicitous

It is harmful, outraged, calm

Yet, there is a serenity and purity and no shame or blame

So what do you see…. Me?

Shall I concede, should I?

Is it for me, to redress, to confess the sin, of you, of them

like a virus, I am infected,

I am confident in my trauma

It is cemented in and resides within me

It guards me, it is my shield, My weapon, my curse

My shame?

So please, enlighten me

What am I?

A thing, a tool, a vessel, a release

A scapegoat for your, justice!

Money, a pay check, a sealed envelope to be locked away

75 years

I will be long dead, so tell me

Who is the criminal here?

The long dark despairing days fell on me

On my shoulders, on my soul

Where was or is my protection?

I am here

I live, I breathe, I survived

I will not be hushed or gagged anymore

I will vomit up and release this infection

And you shall set right this wrong

You will hear me when I set it free

Like a bird emerging from the tree tops

Soaring through the air, spreading its wings

Sharing to the world, what I am

I am innocent

I am grown, not a child anymore

I am injured but strong

I am bitter, but I found sweetness

I am cautious, but I am loved

I am not your victim

I am a survivor

I will not be silenced

Suicide and death, I have danced with, entertained and willed

But then you win

I am life, I am loss, I am grief-stricken,

I am decent, I am human

Tell me, what are you?

 

#abuse #redress#survivor 

#sin#justice#criminal#prosecute

#silenced

Grief

close up photography of crying woman next inside room
Photo by Ikon Republik on Pexels.com

 

How can I describe this ‘state’ that I am in?  It is easy to articulate words, adjectives, but that is not the entire picture.  It’s more than that.  For one little word ‘Grief’, means so many different things.  This one syllable word does not translate my ‘state’ of being.

At times, it is all consuming.  A feeling of sadness, deeper than any crevice or hole and the possibility of crawling out seems improbable, unlikely and impossible.  It is seismic, insurmountable, paralizing, yet ‘life goes on’.  That is what they say, and usually, they are right.  Life does indeed go on, but does the grief go away or does that go on too?  Yes, night follows day, time continues to move, people move and the world rotates.  Grief too rotates and I am at the centre of it.  I am the axis for it.  It changes me, or do I change it?

I am in the black hole and I don’t see you, I don’t hear you.  I don’t see or hear anyone.  I am remote.  I am in my thunderous, swirling hurricane and I am spiralling deeper and deeper. I lock myself away.  I curl up in a ball, I am foetal.  I am helpless.  I need an interaction, a distraction.  I need transient nourishment.    The pain is too much.  I am starving with the hunger of needing and wanting you.  I drink in the numbness.  It soothes me.  It entices me to its open arms and cradles me.  It understands my pain and for a while, it takes it away and I am peaceful, blissful, for you are with me again and we are in each-other’s arms.

I see and hear you as you come into view.  I get so excited at the recognition of you.  It’s the most wonderful, warm feeling and it envelops me.  I know you feel it too.  I see it in your face.  I watch your eyes light up, as do mine, and we embrace.  We hold and try to cling on, but then in a cruel twist of fate, you are gone again.    I am alone again, alone in my grief.

Oh people around me tread carefully, offer me the usual platitudes but I know they are getting frustrated with me.  I see it in their eyes, I hear it in their voices.  Their patience is waning and wearing thin.  They expect me to just accept it, this loss, but I cannot, it is beyond my capability to do so.  This grief is a thief of time and presence of normality and ordinary regularity.  I want that too,  more than anything, more than they want it.  What do they know about it?   They say they understand, but they don’t.  How can they?  They didn’t experience this loss.

All I have now are my thoughts and feelings of you.  My memories come and go.  My mind is distorted, somehow it forgets and regresses and then it remembers.  That is when I wish I wasn’t here either.   I just want to be there with you.  Everything is clear and calm and easy there.  Nothing makes sense here.  I try to reason, to rationalise, but it’s just too big to fathom and understand and that is why I crumble and shout and scream.  I’m afraid, I am terrified of ‘what next’?

How can I move on, just like that?  It is not that simple, it’s too complex.  I cannot get used to it, your absence.  I too wish to become absent, nothing else matters.  I will just submit to it.  I invite it and long or it to come and get me.  I wait submissively for the rotation, to bring me back to you.  It is only there that I know who I am.  When I am back there with you, that is normal, that is home, that is me, in my proper ‘state’.  I recognise myself there and I remember who I once was before this decrepitude enslaved me.  I see me clearly with clarity and I am, once again, intoxicated with happiness.   I, somehow made it back, and for a while I am not grieving.  Then, without warning, I disappear abruptly, with wanton abandon and again, find myself surrendering to grief.

Stop!

when life gets busy and you are dashing around sometimes you just have to stop….. if not you will be stopped when your body starts to gives up on you!

photo of head bust print artwork

 

Stop! Legs are aching

Heart is racing

Tummy is rumbling too

This way, that way

Dashing around

In just a minute, I’ll get to you

No sir, yes sir

I’ll do that

Click and tap

Now feed the cat

Washing in

Drying out

Plants needs watering

Where’s the spout?

Children playing

Some are crying

Some being born

Some are dying

Shopping time

Forgot the bread

Get the wine

Is what he said

Dinner party

Cocktail glasses

Fancy food

Some kiss asses

Tow the line

Keep it together

Manic time

It’s stormy weather

Inside, outside,

Head is crazy

Let me sleep

Amongst the daisies

Tired now

I’m fit to drop

Call the time

Let me Stop!

 

 

© carrie sherbourne and Relay shun sips – itsjustnoteasy.com Blog, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Carrie sherbourne and itsjustnoteasy.com Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

 

 

 

 

 

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Allow me

physical or emotional, pain is pain. How we manage it is our choice. Do we need or want to be fixed or do we want to discover, by ourselves and manage ourselves, to see who we are all by ourselves?

woman sleeping

 

I’m not getting dressed, I don’t feel well

I’ve got a pain and it hurts like hell

Allow me to be wrapped in this insatiable grief

I’ve  been taken over by an invisible thief

The cause of the pain, I have no clue

but please stop telling me what to do

allow me to rest and get some relief

sometimes i’m thankful to the invisible thief

he takes me away from dreary demands

life is just quiet, no specific plans

let me just be and rest for a while

wandering and wondering, if ever I’ll smile

The invisible thief leaves symptoms behind

they pound like hell, in the daily grind

allow me to be, just leave me alone

I want to be here, I want to be home

no fuss or no drugs are what will save me

the cause alone will set me free

allow me to feel, remember and know

maybe then i’ll begin to grow

the invisible thief took my voice

but not my will, my hope, my choice

all that I do is mine to choose

some days I win, some days I loose

Allow me the courtesy to be in control

of my mind and my body, let me behold

all that is positive is a point of view

allow me my pain and I’ll allow you

 

 

© carrie sherbourne and Relay shun sips – itsjustnoteasy.com Blog, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Carrie sherbourne and itsjustnoteasy.com Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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When I look at you

What does Autism look like to you….What does normal look like to you. Here is what it looks like to me

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When I look at you what do I see

I see a boy, born to be free

Free from stares, or funny looks

Included in games or reading books

I see a boy, who plays alone

whether in school, or at his home

A boy who knows when to ask

even though, it can be quite a task

A boy born special, with words in his head

If only they’d come out of his mouth instead

A boy that is patient, handsome and kind

Yet all too often, we have to remind

those that don’t know you, or understand

non verbal is not the definition of you

There are many things that you can do

I see a boy, so clever and brave

inquisitive of mind, you don’t misbehave

I see a boy who gets frustrated and sad

Sometimes with the world you may feel mad

I see a boy who defies the odds

gets on with the challenge and carries the rods

I see the boy willing to learn

no matter the difficulty, knowledge you yearn

I see the boy watching and waiting

hoping the people will stop their berating

Not all people are born the same

I see the boy who will change the game

of life how we see it, being ‘normal’ and all

it depends on whether, you throw or catch the ball

Normal to you is to watch and observe

hoping someone will have the nerve

to stand beside you and see the boy

not the Autism, that’s just a decoy

Look beyond the stims and the unique ways

sit with him, make his day

I see the boy who doesn’t want to pretend

Like, you and I, he just wants a friend

Don’t be afraid to look inside

No need to ignore, walk away or hide

He is just a boy to be understood

His heart is full of all things good

He may be shy or a little afraid

but please don’t exclude him

ignorance is man made

I see a boy, who is often alone

like the heron waiting, yet he never moans

in silence he sits, amusing himself

The kindness you show him, is worth all the wealth

so please be ‘normal’ and show your good grace

it will be worth it, to see the smile on his face

What’s normal for you is different than mine

and kindness will win, time after time

 

 

for Joseph, with love……. (and everyone else on the spectrum)

Photo Authors own, taken by the River Slaney, Enniscorthy

 

© carrie sherbourne and Relay shun sips – itsjustnoteasy.com Blog, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Carrie sherbourne and itsjustnoteasy.com Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

Free to Flit

Life’s journey gives you perspective on the things that really matter

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Easily bored or a restless soul

to do so much, is my goal

The job’s I’ve had, more than a few

Good or bad, is a point of view

I liked them all, in their own special way

But, I always knew, there would come a day

when it was time to move, to pastures new

gain new skills, new acquaintances too

Back to school, always yearning

Gain more knowledge, all that learning

It fills me with a sense of joy

to push myself, in no way coy

As for the Arts, a new found passion

also clothes and the latest fashion

A trip to the theater, gallery or museum

Neither time nor inclination

so tired with delirium

when the children were small, and full of demands

never spare time, on my hands

Now older and wiser, more self assured

I fill my time, so I’ll never be bored

I call the shots and work when I can

in between life’s joys or when the shit hits the fan

Priorities change as life races on

the person you were, has somehow gone

Each stage of life brings its changes

Goalposts move to different ranges

I don’t call it boredom, maybe its wit

to know when it’s time, to be free to flit

Dip in and out of the things that bring pleasure

Fill up the soul with meaningful treasure

Not in the oddments of material things

But of people and places that makes my heart sing

© carrie sherbourne and Relay shun sips – itsjustnoteasy.com Blog, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Carrie sherbourne and itsjustnoteasy.com Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content