inspiration – Page 20 – Hues of Hankinson

Insomnia

Can’t sleep, can’t stop thinking

Can’t stop worrying about the drinking

The bills, the wolf howling at the door

The need to always give that little bit more

Buster’s new shoes, Molly’s lose tooth

Worn out carpets on our worn out floors

Can’t sleep woes, Can’t sleep blues

If you know me well enough avoid me in the morning

As I’ll have the can’t sleep short fuse.

Insomnia.

Alison Jean Hankinson

Written today for d’Verse... we had to save a life on an issue…I chose can’t sleep which I am sure affects many people a lot of the time.

Summer storm 1985

Across the raging Ocean

Hurtling home from France in a skittish Dufour

Bobbing in the ocean like a pea in a drum.

Drum lost her keel in Fastnet fright

We were stranded at sea off Selsey Bill

Limped into Shoreham late evening

Summer storm.

Alison Jean Hankinson

A memorable sailing trip with my parents in August 1985, as a teenager, still not sure how we survived, the auto-pilot couldn’t hold our course it was a little bit rough to say the least. Dad’s little Dufour was 26ft….Simon Le Bon’s Drum was more like 78ft….

For Quadrille at d’Verse. Challenge STORM.

Thank you, Ariana Grande

One love

We all stand tall

Young and old united

One voice one song one heart one soul

Love wins.

Alison Jean Hankinson

This is my one (oops I didn’t realise it was one and did more the other week…sorry) offering for d’Verse open link night as I would like it to be read.

This is an attempt at a cinquain, inspired by yesterday watching the Ariana Grande “One Love” concert from home. My roots and heritage are from Salford and Manchester and what she did last night was a great gesture of love, compassion and courage especially following the events in London on Saturday evening. The care she demonstrated towards the students of Parrs Wood School Choir was heart-warming. Thank you, Ariana Grande.

The photo is my own, we went as a family to pay our respects and lay flowers in the week following the tragedy.

In this life…

In this life of complex order and sequence

Is a simplicity and fragility that is there to guide us.

We must value the moment we hold in our hands

Take it and treasure it and place it in our conscious mind.

In this life of uncertainty and fragmented disenchantment

we must honour the souls of the ones that came before us

So that that our own endeavours however meagre and small

Will have dignity and connection in their labour and toil.

We must appreciate the moments of beauty and bounty

And be humble and honest and have integrity.

Lest all that we know should be gone tomorrow

In this life of tragedy and human sorrow.

Alison Jean Hankinson

Whilst I wrote this on Saturday it was entirely with the sentiments of d’Verse poetics challenge that was looking for poems to save the soul….and I think we have suffered greatly in the last few weeks with the attacks on London and Manchester and I wanted to peel back the layers to what is still important and will always be important.

Today was a very blustery day….a pooh bear kind of day, and so long as we remember to feel the wind on our face and acknowledge it for what it is we are still clearly alive and functioning.

Brunton Park boogie-woogie

Grey-haired renegades

Body-popping bimble-bugs

Summer spirits soar.

We were highly entertained on a beautiful summer evening at Brunton Park, Carlisle watching the UB40 Grandslam tour. It was a relaxed affair, every bit old school reggae with some Level 42 for good measures. I suspect the average age of the audience was pushing 50. The beer flowed, everything was mellow and there were smiling happy people enjoying sunshine, good music and a little bit of bimbling bopping…I get auto-corrected every time I try to use bimbling, but it is a word…although I took the liberty of adding to it in my short senryu

It was a long walk home and I suspect there will be many had tired and aching feet and a few with added hangover this morning, but it was a welcome reminder of the good natured side of eighties life…there was nothing to prove…no hidden dystopian novellas wrapped in shady riffs, just sunshine and the occasional syncopated rhythm from a trill trumpet or a laid back sax. Reggae on renegades.

Alison Jean Hankinson

Let’s be clear on why we’re here.

To love unconditionally

To pass the tests

Of time

To be humble

To walk in awe

Of nature

To be kind to others

To share our wealth

Whatever that may be-

Humour, love, strength, patience

Words of wisdom

To listen carefully.

To be brave

To walk forward into battle

With a steadfast heart

And rising mettle

Knowing that win or lose

We wagered.

To be wise

Keep calm and peaceful

In the storms that rage inside

And know that tomorrow the skies will clear

And beyond the misty gloom

The rainbows will reappear.

Kia Kaha- to be strong

To guard our children fiercely

And cry real tears of sorrow

For all the mothers who have lost their children

And know that every day is long

For someone.

Alison Jean Hankinson

For d’Verse poetics, again written this weekend- I was clearly in need of some chicken soup for the soul. I would hope that this is an optimistic poem and a reminder that we are humble and to be cognisant of the battles we are all fighting underneath the surface.

With love.

Storm clouds gather over Heysham Head.

Against the backdrop of the sea

My love for you rises with the tide

No plain nor perfect place I would rather be

With my time-worn soulmate at my side.

Sunset over Lakeland Hills

Windmills as far as the eye can see

Hand in hand we walk the sands

No plain nor perfect place I would rather be.

Storm clouds on the horizon

Wind blows strong across the land

Sudden wind chill makes us shiver

Hand in hand we walk the sands.

We head for home across the Head

In the Church ruins shelter and hide

Against the backdrop of the sea

My love for you rises with the tide.

Alison Jean Hankinson

Submitting this for open link night. At d’Verse.

Kindness

Fever 104

Death knocking at the door

And she gave the gift of kindness.

Caressed my burning brow

Spoke with soft and soothing tones

Let me know I was not alone.

Alison Jean Hankinson

January 2011 and I was extremely ill and with fever, there was this wonderful nurse who throughout the Saturday night as doctors came and went, cared for me, she put wet flannels on my head, and came every 10 minutes to let me know I was not alone, it was the middle of the night and all my family were gone and her kindness will always stay with me. It was at that point in my life that I think I really understood that the kindness of a friend or stranger is always one of the most bountiful and unexpected gifts.

The photo is from St Ann’s Square in Manchester today, I was struck again by this word. It will always have more power than hatred. A tribute to the nurse that cared for me and the people of Manchester.

The challenge tonight as d’Verse was to write about a gift.

Salford Pals

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I have spent a considerable amount of time this weekend rebuilding the lives of my paternal Great-grandfather John Henry Mcclenan( McLanaghan) and my Great grandmother- his wife Frances Taylor/Skinner. It is a fascinating story of friendship, war, battles and lives lost, and love rising like a phoenix from the ashes to build what was to become a large and strong family. John Henry and his best friend George Skinner were to fight in the Boer War, George was killed and John Henry injured in the hip and returned to Salford to convalesce. On recovering he went to see George’s wife of 4 months Frances Skinner and over time they fell in love and were married on 14 December 1901.

Frances was 27 by this time but they went on to have 8 children, one of whom was my Grandfather Frank born in 1911(the one on the horse), and although getting on in years John Henry served with the Salford Pals 15th regiment from 1914-18, surviving a number of key battles including the Somme in 1916 and the siege of Thiepval July 1st 1916 and was awarded a number of medals. Frances and John’s fourth child was a daughter Hilda and her Great Grandson Christopher Finney went on to earn the George Cross for bravery in the Iraq war 2003. I think great things came from the broken fragments of John Henry’s Boer war broken-ness. He passed away in 1926 from amongst other things TB in the injured hip. I might not have fully complied with nature- but maybe war counts as the impact of human nature…

Bleak Boer War battle

John Henry lost George Skinner

Frail Fall brought Frances.

Alison Jean Hankinson

For d”verse our challenge is to write about finding beauty in the broken pieces or imperfection and/or the process of mending the broken pieces.- kintsugi. A “broken” object, cityscape or landscape, or personal experience of mending and embracing imperfections. Kintsugi means “golden rejoining,” and refers to the Zen philosophy of acknowleding flaws, embracing change, and restoring an object with a newfound beauty.