Untitled Poem on Depression by Brian Mack.

Untitled Poem on Depression by Brian Mack.

If you could see inside their head

It looks like an untidy bed

Knotted, untidy and frayed

Pillows in the most awkward ways

But we don’t see that

You see a happy and joyous face

Tidy and smart

With no worries or troubles

Who will help them make my head bed

Who will tuck in the corners

Who will pump up my pillows

So They can have a restful head

Like they say don’t judge a book by its cover

Don’t ignore the words inside

Come read with me and share my book

Together we shall make more luck

Take off that persona

Stop hiding behind the smile

Remove the hidden agenda

Open your arms to the world

The sheets and pages

Will get untangled and ordered

Confusion and chaos will be no more

Just remember when I come knocking

Open the bloody door!!!

Geometric lines on Bridlington North Promenade by marge. No. 6 in my series of peoms on the them of "Lines".

What do you see? When you walk on the Prom?

Do you even notice what your feet are walking on?

I do and I did!

The patterns of the block paving are amazing.

the geometric lines were best, clever shapes

giving clever impressions, to tease the mind.

What do you see? Do you see squares or rectangles?

Do you see diamonds, the impression changes -

do you see a red base with a grey wall around

with a cream top, just change your vision a little

and you are back with block paving on the Prom!

All along the Prom the patterns in the block paving

changes, I found it fascinating, walking along with

my head down, taking photographs - why?

All part of the preparation for my series of poems

based on the series of “Lines”. When you look

for them, Lines are everywhere! The more you

look - the more you find - especially at the Seaside.

               

Lines Written on the Page by marge. No. 7 in the series of Poems on the theme of "Lines".

Lines Written on the Page. No 7 in my “Lines” series.

“Readers are writers and

Writers are readers”.

A lady at the Library

told me this quotation.

That is how I came to

join a Writing Group

eleven years ago.

That is how I realised I was a writer.

I have a tutor, anything

she sets us for homework,

I will do (or at least, I try).

So you see, my life is made

up of written lines on the page.

I review fiction books for a

Bookseller, which means

reading something you

may not like - then write a review.

When I have read the  book

then I try to write

something positive.

In this way, I have read

for free, some exceptional

books, full of written

“Lines on the Page”.

HMS Pickle - Whitby. No. 5 in the "Lines series" by marge.

I saw the beautiful HMS Pickle

In Whitby Harbour,

She was so perfect but, little.

I was transfixed as I looked

at her slender lines,

I was very firmly hooked

A fan of her strength and grace,

the straight lines of her masts

the folded sails took little space

The man on her deck was

shouting to a man, standing

on the harbour edges.

I took photos of her

rigging, the ropes holding

her firm, the anchor chain.

I know I want to come and

visit her again.

Thunder Thoughts by marge. (Personification of Thunder).

“I’ll show these people

who are grumbling about the heat”.

“I will wake up people

snoozing on sun loungers”.

“It will be fun to give

the girls something to

    SCREAM about.”

“The wives will have

to rush outside to bring

the  washing in”

“The dogs will have

to hang their tongues out to

puff and pant

and

tremble with FEAR…..”

“I will bang so loud

that even the brave boys and men

can't hide their quaking”.

I, Thunder am not all bad

I bring the rain,

I make the air sweet again.

BUT THEN,  I do have a wicked streak!

NOTE: After weeks of sunshine,

we awoke this morning to thunder

and lightning.

When I were a lass. (1944/45) By marge.

     When I were a lass,

We had “nowt”, less than “nowt”.

There was never money for new clothes.

Everything I owned was “handed down,

Or “passed on”.

Shoe colours were either black or brown.

My presents were either hand made, or

Rebuilt and repainted by my mum or uncles.

Grandma said “After the war, you’ll get

Easter Eggs tied with ribbon and Bananas,

You’ll love them”.

I had no idea what she was talking about,

I had never seen them.

This man in a uniform came sometimes,

My Mum said “It’s your Dad”.

I was sent to sleep with my cousins

At my Aunties,

So they could “go out”

When I went home again he’d gone.

Then were these things called “Air Raids”.

Mum would wake me up and carry me

Outside, and into the Air Raid Shelter.

It was dull, dark and smelly.

Full of people, talking, singing and

Smoking. No one was sleeping.

The food wasn’t good,

I did not eat a lot, not powdered egg

Or corned beef hash, it was awful.

Grandma used to soak sultanas overnight

For me to have with my jam and bread.

I didn’t know then how bad things were

Everybody in our street was the same.

When I were a lass, we had “nowt”

A  whole lot of “nowt”.

A Yorkshire Version of Genesis. By Mike O 'Dowd.

Credit to Mike O'Dowd for this bible work.

In't beginning there was nowt
and God said "Let theer be leet" and there was leet
And he could see fer miles.

On't fust day God created Yorkshire,
and he looked, and he sayeth,
"It is good."

On't second day He created t'beeasts of t'field
and t'air - whippets, lurchers and pigeons -
And he sayeth "It is good"

On't third day he created Yorkshireman,
who was strong in t'arm and
could call a spade a shovel,
ter hold dominion over Yorkshire and
beeasts of t'field and t'fowls in t'air
and ter look out for Yorkshire,
and He sayeth "It is good ".

On't fourth day he created Yorkshirelass,
who were fair of face and strong in t'arm,
who could make Yorkshire puds,
and skivvy for Yorkshireman.
And he sayeth "It is good".

On't fifth day he created the oceans,
the fairest being t'North Sea,
thet filled the coastline of Yorkshire
with unlimited beauty and provided fish
for Yorkshireman and his Lass.
And he sayeth "It is good".

On't sixth day he created the rest of the world
and as he was running out of ideas
he created Lancashire.
And he looked, and he looked again
And he sayeth "By heck, after all this work
I think I need a day off."

NOTE: I know this is irreverent but funny

- if you are from Yorkshire, that is

Three short poems on the theme of Money, by marge.

You know it’s funny

About this thing

Called money

You’ve either

      Got it

     Or - not!

---------------------------

Money, Money, Money!

Sang Fagin as he hoarded it

Spend, spend, spend,

Said the lady from Castleford

As she went from rags to

Riches and back to rags.

Money, Money, Money!

Is no good in the Bank

So what is the point of

Keeping it, but you need

Moderation in all things,

Spend some, share some,

Money, money, money!

Keep some for that

“Rainy Day” or old age!

--------------------------

Money haiku

Money can make us

humans, happy or make them

Sad, too, too sad

The Stairway from Prom to Where? By marge. No. 3 in my series of Poems on the theme of "Lines".

There is a stairway

Near where we stay.

It goes from the bottom

to top the top.

The handrail looks

Strong and firm.

It would not do

If it were not.

The red brick

Retaining wall

In their lines,

Go from bottom

to the top.

The red bricks look

Strong but the green

Weeds at their base

Show neglect.

At the top of the

Stairs, is a gate.

a gate to keep -

Unwanted people

       Out!

The gate has lines

Both vertical and

Horizontal. Strong lines.

Strong iron, which says

"Private property

Keep out."

Lines that go from

The bottom to the top

NOTE: This poem is No. 3

In my series of poems on

The theme of “Lines”.

Bridlington North Promenade. 10.7.18.

Lines in the Sand, Bridlington, South Bay, 11.7.2018 by marge.

Sitting on the Promenade,

watching the tide turn,

looking for what it has left behind.

The retreating sea has revealed

seaweed, rubbish, shining pebbles.

strips of sea water, glistening in the sun.

It has left patterns in the sand -

wavy lines and little mounds

appearing where tiny sea creatures

wriggle out from the safety of the sand.

Miles and miles of dunes and flat sand,

In this beautiful Bridlington South Bay.

     We will come again, we say.

NOTE: This is poem No. 2 in my series

of poems based on the theme of LINES.

Bridlington, South Bay 11. 7. 2018.

12 of 30. Midnight !!

12 of 30.   MIDNIGHT !!

The Andrew Lloyd Webber song

“Midnight” was sung in the Musical

CATS, made my skin go cold, the hairs

on my arms stood up!! ….

Song reached No 1,

Midnight - the Witching Hour,

when the witches danced in

Winlayton Woods! A much

talked about event, but

never witnessed…..

Midnight - in the Cemetery.

The dead walk and wolves howl.

The drunk lurch between the

gravestones, the ‘druggies’

get their fix! We all know

about it but never seen …..

Midnight - new baby cries

mum reluctantly leaves her sleep

to feed her precious bundle,

who feeds, burps, needs a

nappy change, mum gets back into

bed, daddy keeps her awake

Snoring…  We’ve all heard it!!

In the darkness, lovers cling.

The drunk sing their way home.

Policemen do their shift.

Hospitals doing double shifts,

night workers wish they were

all at home in bed …..

IT’S MIDNIGHT !!