The car is at the garage
The engine is Kaput
Another worry in the bag
And now it won’t stay shut.
We appear to haemorrhage money
There’ll soon be nothing left
It isn’t remotely funny
Friends family fortitude bereft.
Pakaru and redundant
For all my story’s worth
Broken beyond replacement
Nothing left but mirth.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
Pakaru- broken for Mental Health Awareness week 2018.
We are knitted clanger creatures
Living far away from earth
We don’t have diabetes
But we do have lots of mirth.
We live off blue string pudding
And green soup for dessert
We have a lovely soup dragon
Whose baby is said to slurp.
We have some friendly froglets
Iron chicken in starry sky lurks
We harvest notes from music trees
Hoots make our tiny clangers chirp.
We whistle through the day
We whistle through the night
We whistle for the children
To make their day more bright.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
Friday night cheer up in Mental Health Awareness week 2018.
Image taken from Flickr labelled for non commercial re-use.
My bag is getting heavier
It is full of stuff you know
Not all of it belongs to me
I worry about it though.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
Another one for Mental Health Awareness Week 2018, for all the worriers….
I don’t belong to you
I never did
I was just a borrowed shirt
An accessory of sorts
To compliment your crass existence
I wasn’t yours to own.
We danced all night, our bodies entwined
It was love at first sight,
We belonged together forever.
But at the end of the night
You were gone.
I was alone.
Do you want jam with your toast?
I prefer eggs she thought.
Is this my life I see before me?
Always him before me, and he can’t even see
Always sugar in tea, no chance to be free
No room for me.
I had his head on a platter
Silver ornate, shiny no blood spatter
It was the only way to win you see
I got to be loved and adored
Play the field, chair the board
And still be me.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
.
Some days I have brain fog, it is part of my illness or disease-puddled,
it is like swimming in porridge and I can see things clear as mud.
In the muddle
my life is befuddled
As I try to unriddle
my addled mind.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
For d”verse quadrille on “Muddled”
A little bit of light-heartedness. I suspect the answer is a relaxing cream tea somewhere…..
I inherited her laugh
It resonated in any room, raucous,
Cackle, guffaw, chortle and undeniably unstoppable.
An energy an emission of unadulterated joy
Everyone knew she was there.
“It’s only for kids missus!”- that was Ken Dodd puppeteer extraordinaire.
King of the diddy men.
“Alison- Your mum’s here…
I just heard her laugh.”
©Alison Jean Hankinson.
For poetics at d”verse and for Day 24 of Napowrimo 18.
I am sorry girls but you definitely have it too…long may we laugh. XXXX love you Mumma. XXX
Yesterday was a shit day
I really felt so sad
I had my haircut and it looked good
But the rest of the day went bad.
It feels like I am burdened
By the needs of others
And when I need support from them
Their love for me seems to falter.
I do not want too much
I simply want you all
To give a hand when I yell for help
When my world is about to fall.
Prednisone makes my face look fat
It takes my self-esteem away
My world becomes a pit of writhing snakes
My fears won’t blow away.
Sometimes I need a helping hand
To piece my world together
The moment of need is usually temporary
And doesn’t last forever.
So if you see me crying
In a helpless kind of way
Give me a hand and pull me up
It’s just a miserable steroid day.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
Self indulgent…sorry..steroid reduction- hitting the wall…. Beryl knows….miss you my prednisone buddy…..
napowrimo18 Day 22,
I think I have a cold
My head feels rather hot
Whenever I blow my nose
There is yucky slime green snot.
It isn’t what I’d planned
For my poem and ode today
I guess I’ve made a rhyme
In a rather odious way.
I need to see the doctor
To put my ails on hold
Before this horrid virus
Does firmly take its toll.
My sinus are infected
My ears are hurting too
I think my dratted cold
May actually be the flu.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
All I can muster on Day 18 of Napowrimo….
Pass the tissues please…
Amidst the hustle and bustle of a billowy day
A thought popped into my head
Imagine that this was all imaginary
And in reality we were already dead.
I wouldn’t have to worry about the bills
Or keeping the kitchen clean
Any pain or suffering pulling me down
Would be an unfortunate dream.
It seemed like a good idea at the time
And I ran with it for a while
But then I spotted the obvious flaws
And decided the idea was vile.
I wouldn’t have made any difference
To other lives great or small
All that I had lived, loved and learned
Would cease to matter at all.
I decided that dreary and dull as the day may be
I would rather live my life fully right now
Than struggle for all of eternity
Trying to get back to where I am now.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for Napowrimo2018.…..and my early morning thoughts today….Day 12. XXX
Hues of Hankinson 