#pOeticlicense. Demons



I saw
Demons today
In your cold eyes haunted
By tortured past tormenting you
Sending you completely insane
Never letting you go
Neither you them

They come
Out of your mouth
Spitting out vile mockings
Rending the night air asunder
In hypnotic chaotic trance
I become mesmerised
Join in the dance
With you



We live in a noisy world. Full of activity, with little silence. So much talking, so much shouting, so much assertion of self. In some ways all of that is necessary, but we have become so accustomed to all of this that we often fail to see the things that are going on in silence, in the darkness. Here, battles are being won. Here, huge triumphs are taking place. The quiet, unassuming person sitting next to you – would you know what battles they have fought and won? Would you know what triumphs they have embraced?

Everything does not have to be done noisily, with great shouts of acclamation. Respect the quiet person sitting next to you for they may be a silent warrior who has fought and won many battles.


When winter approaches and darkness comes
My body freezes as fear takes me in
When doors are closed and no one can hear
The screams that pierce the heavy night air
I am lost in a vortex spinning alone
A tiny black box has become my home
A box where nobody else can get in
Not one that I chose but was chosen for me
I stretch out my arms feel only the wall
And know I am trapped and cannot get out
But in the black box I can reach the world
Through the iPad that still I’m allowed
Virtual friends are all that I have
No human comfort is there for me now
But oh how the iPad has saved my life
Please stay close by me and keep me alive



Bring to light that which is hidden
Nestling deep in the darkness
Sing into being that which should live
Wing your chosen way onwards

Do not fear the deep waters
You were once held in this ocean
Too many times you stood at the edge
New life is yours for the taking


Surrendering to the darkness I sit,
Letting its arms wrap around me, rock me,
For by no other is my dark life lit,
Only in the dark can I truly see,
Waves of peace wash over my aching soul,
Soothing, calming my ever raging storm,
For I have tried so long to reach a goal
Not of my own making, how I was torn,
I knew that in the dark there was more light,
For in the dark I see with different eyes,
The eyes that walk by faith and not by sight,
And in the darkness now my spirits rise,
The light deceives false comfort offers me,
Embracing dark I can be truly free.


I cannot tell
How much my heart aches
As I lie here in my bed
My life’s experiences
Into a few moments in time
The assault was fierce
The tears many
The shuddering
The shaking
The screaming
As I remembered
Nights of nakedness
And torture
I the object
He the Master
Lord of All
Spat upon
As astride me he stood
Pure power
I re-live those memorise
Knowing that this monster
Still holds me
And there is no escape



One day a new dawn will break
But it isn’t now
One day all the lies and deceit will cease
But it isn’t now
One day the children will tire of their games
But it isn’t now
One day I will sleep in peace and safety
But it isn’t now
One day this hell will end
But it isn’t now
One day heaven’s glory will break
But it isn’t now
Come soon
Come soon



When the world talks
There is a loud clanging
Of emptiness
Disguised as fullness
Leaving me hungry
I crave that which satisfies the soul’s longing
Which can only be found in solitude
Take me to the wild places
Oh wind
Where I can be alone with my soul
Where I can eat and drink
Of Nature’s fullness
Let the wild wind laugh
And let me laugh with it
Let us roll around in joy
Dancing with the clouds
Until the sun sets
And night comes
Then let us rest in peace
In the arms of the dark


I knew the depths
Of your hatred for me
The daughter whom you bore one time
I felt
The knives cutting me off from you
Deep anger rose in me
Took me

A scream
Came from my mouth
And swallowed me right up
I threw myself on a cold grave
The earth
Held me
And took the scream from me gently
I sobbed deep tears breaking
The silent watch


It is very difficult sometimes to explain the core of one’s pain. And sometimes the pain has many layers. Sometimes there seems to be so much overwhelming us. One curve ball after another. And this often happens when we are at our weakest. We can feel that there is no way out. No way of coping any more, and all that we can do is scream out.

I reached that point a couple of days ago. I had had bad news about my health, and I knew then that from here on in, things are going to deteriorate. I lost all my family at the same time, and I have never felt so alone in my life. Much of my time is spent on my bed, and in pain. I worried about my future. What is going to happen to me?

The fear was overwhelming. I did not wish to speak of it, and yet I did want to speak of it all at the same time.

Sometimes so much is going on in our lives that we don’t know what is going to happen to us. In my case I simply got cancer – one of the more  curable ones. But the treatment can mess you up for the rest of your life if you are unlucky. I was unlucky, and now, though the cancer itself may not kill me, the things that the drugs caused,will. We just don’t  know when.

I have gone through a very dark period, trying not to let it show. But it did anyway.

I have no idea when or where all this will end, but I certainly intend to keep posting poetry until it does.

Thankyou for continuing to read me.



I have been going through a very tough and lonely time lately, and I think it has shown in my poems.  I have had sych a lot of kindness shown to me here.  Thankyou so very very much to all my Readers and Folliwers.  Your caring has helped me through. Xoxoxo. Big hugs to everyone


A friend stopped by today
And gave her heart to say
How much she cared
My pain she shared

She was so kind to stay
And tell me she would pray
Of truth she was not scared
A friend stopped by

We talked about the way
That I get through my day
Of how in pain I fared
With her my soul I bared
Life now is not so grey
A friend dropped by

With thanks to Wendi for our long chat today.   You gave me new courage Wendi xoxo


A REPOST – it is all too easy to abyse soneone who has lost their sight, who is wheelchair bound, and who has no feeling in their hands and feet.  You have to try and get out of that abuse  but  it is not easy.


And so now I am alone
In the eerie silence of a life gone wrong
Shall I unpack my case
Such as it is?
All that I have is my body
Wracked with pain
But it is mine
No one can steal it from me
Like you stole my soul
I sit here in the dark
Is it good to remember?
A line was drawn one day
When the pink blossom bloomed on the trees
And birdsong filled the air
A line which I can never cross over
Never go back
On one side is health,
Mountains to climb
On the other side is cancer
And you chose to abuse that
My helplessness became your fruitfulness
Such as it was
And so where are my fruits now?
Do oranges grow in the dark?
Apples tempt us?
And what of the serpent?
I lie in the dark and the silence
Hearing only the falling rain


Do you know
The loneliness of my heart
Sometimes life seems so cruel
As I reach out ……and find only a stone
I hunger for bread
For my hungry soul to be fed
But I go unheard
My suffering unnoticed
By those who are fed at the banquet
But in my heart I know
That I am not the only one
That out there are many lepers
Hungry for love
To them I turn my heart
And touch them with my love


When inside your heart is screaming
And you hide it with a smile
When you pretend that you’re strong
But inside you’re crumbling
When you want to tell the truth
But you can’t
When you have nowhere to turn
But you have nowhere
When fear grips you
Because your body won’t work
Your eyes won’t see
Your legs won’t move
When you are alone
Alone in the world
Though it looks like you’re not
But the one person you seem to have
To the outside world
Is your captor
Your prison guard
When you want to die
But you can’t
Because your body will not let go
It just wants to torture you
When you try to scream out for help
But you are afraid of telling the truth
When you are going mad unsude yoyr head
When all you need is a safe place
A kind word
And understanding arm
A shoulder
Where you can cry

And cry
And cry
And cry



They were all gone
Berries plump with new life
Already their life had journeyed
Plucked from
Green tree
As the summer sun died in skies
Now grey, winter waiting
Offstage, while birds
Feast, store…….

To see them through
Dark days and raging storms
We too have a banquet prepared
Take, eat,
The delights there for the taking
Your soul
And live through the darkest of nights
Sustained by Love offered
Freely, just take
And live


Running for ever
Need to stop
Must run
Fear holds my hand
A companion I do not want
Running from fear
Can I outrun?
Can I be faster than fear?
Can I get out of sight?
Or will fear alwats find me again.



In the corner there sits a woman
Holding her stomach
Within her are clashing knives
Turning turning
No one sees her
Or if they do they ignore her
For she is just a woman
Clutching her stomach
She watches from her corner
And despite her pain
Sees all
With a wisdom born only of suffering
Silent she never tells a soul
But bears her pain with fortitude
And whilst the world acclaims
The merits of pin pricks
She knows her knives
She makes no fuss
Draws no attention to herself
For something has silenced her
It is

The enormity

Of her




Come……Bare, vulnerable,
Weak from your burden,
All energy gone,
Let it go,
Come just with your very essence,
The heart of you,
Rest in my Sacred Heart,
Let them beat together as one,
Energised by the pure Spirit of the Universe
That makes no demands
Just an invitation to come,
Come to me
All you who are weary and heavy laden,
And I will give you rest.


The rowan tree stands to guard all souls
The most sacred tree in the Churchyard
It stands there listening as the bell tolls
Its heart knowing every tear that rolls
Down cheeks that this tree’s great love enfolds
In grief’s dark night true faith feels so hard
The rowan tree stands to guard all souls
The most sacred tree in the Churchyard


And now a line is drawn
Immoveable, stubborn
Keeping the past intact
The future uncertain
A blank page upon which to write my life
Once I could see, now I am blind
So how will I see the marks I make?
Will I feel them in my heart?
Can I create a new song?
Or is there nothing new under the sun?
And is the line really so stubborn
Or does it have a weak part
Where the past peeps through
Squiggles through a tiny hole
Making its appearance unexpectedly
Do its notes become part of the new song
Rising up to the sky
Like the lark in the morning




One year my heart was broken
Later  I saw the blossom
A canopy of purest pink,
Bathing in its beauty, peace
Swept into my soul,
And crept right through my body

Diseased and limpid was my body,
It seemed my life was broken,
I did not know how to save my soul,
But there it was, the beautiful blossom,
Once again I knew deep peace
As I feasted on its deepest pink

Since cancer hit me I’ve always worn pink
Feeling a ransom to my body
Boldly trying to find my peace
Through disease my life was broken
How could my life ever now blossom
Or healing come to my soul?

I craved the healing of my soul
My skin pallid, never pink
Blindly, I squinted at the blossom
Fighting with my body
How many lives had cancer broken?
I thirsted this day for peace

My thirst was quenched I found my peace
The deepest desire of my soul
Gathered were the pieces broken
By the gentle arms of the pink
A healing balm coursed through my body
Coming from the blossom

And the words in my heart said, “There’s always the blossom,”
Remember me and you’ll always have peace
While you have to live in your body
Colouring your very soul,
This day I was healed by the purest pink
Never again will my heart be broken

Though my world now feels so broken, I am filled with peace,
Knowing that there’s always the blossom, waiting to heal my soul,
Colouring my life with deepest pink, soothing the pain in my body



This poem was inspired by a visit to the little village cemetery where my Uncle is buried.  It was the Anniversary of his death this week.  As we arrived at the beautiful cemetery, the gate was open, and in front of us was a thick carpet of gold leaves.  The light was perfect, and we took a photograph, which turned out to look most ethereal. If I could post photos I would, but anyway, here is the poem that I  wrote:


Through the gate today I saw
A golden path of leaves galore
The sun was shining through the trees
Branches wafting in the breeze
And then I hard a black bird caw

I wondered what was now in store
Would heaven open to me its door
So many graves my heart did freeze
Through the gate

In my heart I never bore
Resentment lived within God’s law
Though beaten many times to please
Desires of those who tried to seize
My soul now resting  on heaven’s shore
Through the gate




Perhaps one night you will come to me
Like the rustling in the willow tree
Your footsteps gentle in moon’s soft rays
My eyes meeting yours in longing gaze

Perchance this time will soon come to be
When both our hearts can be set free
I hear the words that my heart now says
Perhaps one night you will come

I wait in silence my mind in a daze
In these green fields where cows do graze
Where summer flowers my eyes can see
While the willow weeps for you and me
In sadness my heart cries out and prays
Perhaps one night you will come



I looked round today and
all I saw was ash,
The ash of my life, spent,
The flame gone out, dead dreams on the ground in rubble.

The scene was bleak, my eyes
Beheld no beauty,
All was ugly, spent now,
I stood there stripped, knowing I could not pick up ash.

Dreams disintegrated,
Hope gone for ever,
Nothing to re-ignite,
Barrenness was my empty companion today.

But suddenly I heard
A voice, saying “Sing,”
What song could I sing now,
Here in this strangest of strange lands, alien now?

The voice insisted, “Sing”
I opened my mouth,
But no sound would come out,
“ Tell me how to sing,”
“Caged birds can sing, but you don’t have a cage, just sing.”

I looked around again,
I couldn’t see ash,
I saw the makings of
A new world, building bricks,
Beauty from ashes, I opened my mouth and sang.



She stood there in the bedroom in her white lace and lemon silk wedding dress.  She had specially designed it so that the beautiful fresh lemony colour would show through the white lace.  She hadn’t looked forwards to the day at all.  No fuss was what she had wanted.  Just turn up at the altar in denim jeans with her husband to be and two witnesses.  But it had got out of hand.  As soon as her mother had got her hands on it, it snowballed.  Not that it was going to be a huge fancy affair, but it was going to be a “proper” wedding, with a “proper” congregation, wedding music, bridesmaids,  Reception, albeit at her parents’  home,  prepared by the family.  Nothing was missing, except one thing – two verses out of the hymn that she had chosen. She had only wanted one  verse  cut out in reality, but the Minister would not allow that, saying that it would draw too much attention to the subject of that verse – children.  Kathy  had especially wanted that hymn because of its emphasis on the word “Home.”  All she had ever wanted was a proper home, but it was not what she had had.  Constantly moving around, she had known nothing but a home, if you could call it that, of violence.  But now, she had the chance to have what she had longed for – a home full of happiness and love.  But NOT children.


Kathy’s  mother had brought her up to believe that babies were dirty.  If she had, as a small child, gone to look at babies in prams in the street, her mother had pulled her roughly away snapping,


“Babies are dirty.”


So, how could Kathy POSSIBLY have a hymn at her wedding that mentioned children?


Indeed, this repulsion towards children was,  it seemed, a family trait, as her Uncle came up to her at the Reception and whispered in her ear,


“And don’t get pushing a pram.”


But it wasn’t only babies that her mother had a revulsion for. She had a revulsion for Kathy herself.  She wanted only for Kathy to be an extension of herself.  Thus, she chose all her clothes for her, all specially old fashioned. She insisted that Kathy had her hair a certain way.  And for the wedding, she had banned Kathy from going to the hairdressers and having her hair done nicely.  She had bought the perfume that she thought appropriate – lilac scented.  She had knitted a hideous matching cardigan and skirt for Kathy to go away in.  She had even bought a nightdress for Kathy to wear on “THE” night.


“I don’t know why you’ve bought that,” Kathy’s father had said. “He’ll only have it straight off.”


“SHUT UP,” Kathy’s mother shouted.  “Don’t be so coarse.”


In fact little did Kathy’s mother know, but Kathy had often wanted to just leap into bed with Jim and that be it.  No ceremonies.  No nothing. Just the uniting of two people who loved each other, that would last for ever.  And nighties certainly did not come into it!


The whole thing had got out of hand though, and Kathy stood there in her wedding dress and said, two minutes before the taxi arrived, “I’m not going.”


Her mother got hold of her roughly and said,


“You’re GOING.  Now get to that church. You’ve got a good man waiting for you there.”


Well, that was the first time Kathy had ever heard her mother describe Jim as good. He had always been all that was bad, and her mother had gone to great extremes to try and break Kathy and Jim up.  So this was a great surprise to Kathy.


In a trice, the taxi was there, and her mother  hustled her into the taxi, and git in with her, consigning her father to the other waiting taxi.   So Kathy arrived at the church with her mother rather than her father, who was meant to escort her unto the church and give her away.


It had been  the story of Kathy’s life, and even her wedding day was not going to break her mother’s hold.






Yesterday he was standing there – digging furiously, his face determined.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Digging your grave,” he replied.

A knife went through her. Or so it seemed. For weeks now, he had been terrorising her. One night he had dragged her, naked, out of bed, laid her on the floor, stood astride her and done long, slow, revolting spits on her face.

When he had finished, she got up from the floor, unsteadily, grabbed her clothes, ready to run.

She reached the door, but he was there, waiting, with a bowl full of freezing cold water ready to throw at her as she went through the door.

Drenched and shaking, she ran out into the cold air. Where could she go? There was nowhere. All night she walked the streets waiting for morning.




I lie here, cry
To the heavens, pleading
For mercy, “Take me now my God,”
Me from
This living death, and let me live
With You, for evermore,
But I must stay


Sometimes there are things that words cannot express. Poetry is a good medium for expressing things that we can’t express in any other way. But even that is limitingl. I want to say “If only…….” and maybe that is a poem in itself!

Sent from my iPad


I live in a world
Bounded by walls
High and strong
A world where it is safe
Where no one can enter
But where I can dream
A world that I can create
That no one can harm
A world of comfort
A world where tears are possible
A world that I need
If I am to survive