The Silent Patient

I was not a silent patient

Whenever the men in suits came 

And locked me up

I screamed and banged

Let me out, let me out

Their eyes were vacant and uncaring 

As distant as the sirens that once escorted me there 

They used to watch me through glass

As I spiralled in my own darkness 

Caring for me remotely 

Except it wasn’t care 

Letting the cameras do the work 

I became a problem 

Not a person 

I have not forgotten 

I still dream, have nightmares, about all the places

I was detained against my will 

Now I am reaching a softer place

One of my own making 

I am still fighting 

But not against the chilly body of authority

I am fighting for my self, my life 

I am finding the light

And it is dazzling 

Rain drops falling as sweet as confetti 

Leaving traces of colour 

On my hair and face 

It is a wonder that I survived 

But I am glad that I did 

How else would I have known that life can be bliss 

And so I sing to myself 

Play sweet tunes 

Create for myself the playfulness of a childhood 

I never had 

I nurture myself to make up for the lack of maternal love 

Hear the bells chiming every Tuesday evening 

Breaking through the clouds 

Each ding a reminder of time lost 

And future and present time that has to be made to count

And so I may have screamed 

I had every right to 

But now I speak up for myself 

Form sentences and write them down 

I am no longer the patient 

I am me and I am free 

And how wonderful that feels. 

For Shay's Word Garden 

Substitute

I would not change you 

For all the gold in the world

I think out loud

She smiles, as not I 

We cannot imagine being apart

So natural is our coupling 

I think, she thinks 

I move, she moves

We lie still, look up at the white ceiling

As if it holds the answers 

To our questions 

As if we could write down our dreams on it 

In pencil, in our finest handwriting 

Leave them there for time to decide

Whether we should remember them or not

The weather is changing 

The leaves have all but fallen from the trees

But still the sun tries to shine

To warm our minds and body 

We make little noises of contentment 

Still too sleepy to say much

In that wonderful cosy place

Half between asleep and awake

The wind blows in through the open window

It is like a whisper 

Everything is well 

Everything is well 

For a long time we have tried to reach this place

Perhaps it is all the more satisfying

Because we had to fight for it

The birds are hiding 

We do not hear them sing 

But spring is something to look forward to 

How peculiar, to have wishes for the future

I reach out for her hand

It fits in mine like the stone in the middle of a peach

There really is no substitute for love and life. 

March Of Time

Will we be late, we ask Rabbit 

Late, late, late he replies

Dashing on before us

His white tail puffing in the breeze

I don’t like being late I whisper to Alice

Who knows what you will miss 

Or how things will be 

She giggles

I am sometimes late 

Like getting lost in an adventure, she says 

Then I forget it is time for tea or lessons

Where are we going I wonder

But it really doesn’t matter

That is the nature of things

Just putting one foot in front of the other

Moving forward in time and space

Like a game of chess

She claps her hands in glee

Most curious how you get older

But at the same time younger

Whilst I stay small forever

I hope one day you have the gift of age

I tell her

It really is rewarding 

No more running or falling down holes

A belief in yourself and the world 

No need to escape any more

She sighs, sounds divine 

I like how your hair turns silver 

And your world grows bigger

Like you are not afraid any more

I stop and think 

Perhaps I am a little more curious

A little less afraid 

Rabbit disappears

We do not have to chase him 

Shall we take tea by the river, asks Alice 

Now it is my time to clap my hands and delight

We watch the sun set behind the trees

The river turn from blue to black

Reflecting the stars and moon

Soon we will go home to bed

And dream, sleep peacefully 

Time really is both a puzzle and a reward 

We are glad it marches on. 

Autumn

Autumn knocks upon our door

Old bones and broken leaves 

They scatter, quiet and yellow

At our feet

The closing, darker months no longer scare us

They make our stomachs flutter

As if full of butterflies 

All the phantoms of yesterday 

If not forgotten, receding 

Sweet as poppies floating on the breeze

The air is quite enchanting she declares

Her wind swept hair falling over her face 

Of course we remember 

How we were tangled in a web of self destruction 

Hardly struggling to get free 

Like a wasp at the end of summer

Drowsily giving up inside the spider’s lair 

Perhaps now we are a little excited

We like the cold air and crisp mornings 

When we can take our walks

Think about books and poetry 

The scent of wood fires 

Smoke billowing from chimneys 

The sweet and warming liquor of vanilla coffee 

And carrot cake perhaps 

If we want to treat ourselves 

She giggles, face pressed against the glass

Of course there are stories

Times when 

But we like that we can notice the change in season 

And weather

Like the feel of raindrops on our face

The joy of moving our bodies once again

No longer captive in our bed or mind 

I wonder quietly how many more seasons lay before us

If we, I , have reduced the number that will be gifted to us 

All I can hope is that like the shedding of leaves

My core is now readying itself 

For more time to come

Perhaps there are scars, marks in the wood 

Knots of age and incidents passed 

But they may grow stronger with years and changes

Perhaps we will welcome in many more autumns

Sweep up the leaves and tidy our bones

How magical the world can be. 

For Shay’s Word Garden 

Memories and Dreams

When does a memory become a dream

When do thoughts drip from our head

Like rain drops falling through a hole 

In a broken umbrella 

I do not remember being small 

Though I remember the feeling of being afraid 

Now in my dreams I am grown

Exploring possibilites 

Scaling towers and trees 

For many years I was unconscious

Not asleep 

And my head was always troubled

And black 

Hardly any rest or hope

No room to play or find flowers

Sometimes now I daydream 

Think about things to come

Adventures to take 

Skies to look at 

Clouds to count

Birds to watch fleeing the bare branches 

Migrating to the building opposite 

Cawing and singing 

Waiting for spring to come 

And chicks to arrive 

We like the freshness of day 

The warmth of night 

Perhaps now we are more prepared to remember

But we choose not to 

Why open a box full of pain

When instead we could create 

A box full of pleasure

With a clearer head we can summon up 

Pretty dreams 

Colours

Sights

Sounds

No more falling off pavements and jerking awake

Or that smell that has followed us for years

Memories and dreams

Are like colours on a mixing board

Waiting to be painted into something new

We will take the paintbrush in our hand

And be the painter, the dreamer, the person 

Who draws their own past, present, future

And a wonderful world of imagination and possibility

The safety of limitless dreams. 

Choices

Dear Me

This is a letter to say well done on the choices you have made

To say thank you for learning how to care for yourself

To acknowledge your feelings

Your sadness and the changing tide

Like an open window

That you have finally allowed the light to pour in

Well done on not lingering in the past any more 

On learning that what is done is done 

And should not be re-visited

Now is the time to live

To find pleasure and comfort in the world

In the positive things you can do 

Thank you for being kind to others 

But know now that it is time 

To be kind above all to yourself 

You did not and do not deserve pain

Learn from what it taught you

But leave it behind 

A lesson, a memory, a part of your journey 

Love yourself as you love others

With an open heart and open mind 

Be brave and fearless

Take each day as a gift

And wrap it again in a beautiful blue bow 

The colour of your eyes

Which now shine 

Not ache 

And show who you truly are

Dearest sister

Thank you for believing in me

For waiting patiently for me to rise to the surface

Thank you for your love and kindness 

I will always treasure and love you

Just as you have me 

May we always have each other 

With all my heart and love

Dearest Alice

How could I not write a letter to you

Thank you for being with me through the darkness

And the emerging light 

May you always take tea

And play

May you always reach out your hand to me 

And giggle and spin 

I will always keep you safe 

So that you can be young

Together we will defeat the adults in our life

The ones who robbed us of our innocence and laughter 

May we always stay together 

Two shining stars in a moon blushed night. 

Bad Poetry

Alice claps her hands in glee

We are waltzing in our ballroom

Cooking up bad poetry

If it’s any consolation she declares

I have quite forgotten my name

But I think I found a key somewhere 

Past the watery pool of tears 

In the forget-me-not forest

High up on a table we cannot reach

As we dance we are waving

But not drowning 

How wonderful it is 

To skip on our toes and not be swimming 

In sadness and regret 

No longer hidden behind a haze of bad dreams 

But poking our heads out of the Rabbit Hole

Eager to discover if what we think

Is real or imaginary 

Either way our thoughts are melting together

In quiet understanding

Like milky white glue stitching up a repair 

In our shiny black shoes

Who dares wear the patching in the sun 

Lest it melt 

But then our toes would feel the grass

She squeals in delight

As if there are no longer any downsides

In this story 

She is busy baking, flour on her nose

When finished we sit at the table for cookies and tea

Though I do not feel we should eat any more sugar 

Starfish and seabirds roll past our eyes

Everything feels like a movie 

But crystallised, like an atomic blast 

A cubist painting but soft at the edges not hard

She giggles again 

As we switch seats and take fresh cups and saucers

When we awake form our reverie

On the page will be a poem 

And the queen will declare 

Off with their heads

Whether or not our words are good or bad

But we will escape

And our words will follow

Neatly in line, like a pack of cards. 

Freedom

The path to freedom began at school

It stood on a hill I climbed every day 

Looked out of its windows

To the hills and skies and sea

For some it was prison 

But for me it was learning 

And a place to witness my being 

A place where I was loved 

Or at least regarded in the absence 

Of love at home

There are only a few dusty images of me

When young

They are not kept tidy 

Or revered 

My learning, my being, were not valued

But I knew, to get out I had to do well

I had a role, a purpose 

Not like the in-between years

When I wandered the streets

With no direction

Sore feet

Aching head

Moving in circles in rain or shine 

I would not resurrect my school days 

But I am thankful for what they gave me

A place of safety 

A rhythm 

A love of words and books

Now I try to re-create the structure

To move myself forward at my own volition 

Every day is a lesson

A learning 

I still love words 

Order 

Waking up with some place to go 

Being part of a world 

Perhaps one I don’t understand 

But one that is bigger than the world in my head

I will always strive for freedom 

Try to look out not in 

I will find safety and a place to be 

And best of all it will be made from my hands.

On Writing A Poem

 From “Untitled -19”, a poem by Rajani Radhakrishnan.
‘better that poem
better any poem
than your unbearable silence’

We sit and write
Black marks taking up the page
We are used to not talking
Not feeling the world
Or feeling it too much
The questioning look of strangers
The disdain in the eyes 
Of the person who should love us
Without fail
And so when you ask 
I now say I am fine
But that is not right, for you
I do not have the right to be fine 
In your eyes
Always a competition 
Who suffers the most
Who will die first
But I have died many times before
You did not notice
So now why should you care
I know the question is not real
Not meant with love or kindness
There is too much unsaid between us
So here I am tumbling down words
In a space that feels like home 
With people who do care
With a place where my words are safe
Perhaps even treasured 
By me at least
They are my path to freedom 
Each key stroke
Each split in line 
Is a thought, a metamorphosis 
I have changed
I am changing 
And the words, the poems have helped 
They have taught me much more than the past
They open up a door to the future
One I did not think I would have
So better that poem
Better any poem
Than your unbearable silence. 

Dream World

At night I dream of busy city streets

Places of opportunity

I walk along, trying to find my home

I think I live in an apartment on the highest floor

One I have to ride an elevator to 

One with a white door and big windows

I try the lock

Will it open for me

All such a puzzle

When I open my eyes

I see low buildings and fields

Perhaps not a place of opportunity

But one of rest, of twilight days

A stopping point

Maybe I will move on 

Pack away my books and words

Take a train, see a new horizon

But life is the same anywhere

You need to eat, sleep and create

No matter the view from the window 

I am growing used to my waking landscape

I like the cobbled streets

Old church and castle grounds

I like my early morning walks 

When the sky makes up its mind

Will it rain or will it shine

It rarely matters which

The people say hello and nod

I have been here so long that I belong 

Not fully but in a way 

Perhaps I am now part of the world around me

Rather than dazed and sleeping

It feels good to be awake

And then to sleep and dream

Both worlds are mine in a way 

So real I can touch them 

Feel their differences and similarities 

I look up to the skies

Full of grey clouds but the birds are singing 

It is humid and close

Just like a steamy city street 

I open the windows and write my words

For now, in this moment, I feel at home. 

Jesus

We have forgotten the details 

How Jesus visited us 

In the silence of the night 

He brought us joys 

And nightmares 

So much confusion 

We thought we would implode

We are safe now

But we have many regrets 

Surprised that we sleep like babies

Wrapped up and warm 

Alice sniffs, the sky is black

Full of clouds and stars 

We remember when the nurse said

‘You have missed the fireworks’

I was waking from a pixilated dream 

Something I did over and over

On auto-pilot until I decided to stop 

How much memory I have lost 

How much co-ordination and skill 

Bashed and damaged by chemicals

Whizzing through my blood

It feels strange now, just to have tea and cake

Filtering inside 

I never would have admitted before 

That life can be better sober

That days could be brighter 

And that I could feel without the desire 

To render myself unconscious 

Alice smiles at me

She has always been there

Just now I see her clearly 

My imaginary friend

My own personal Jesus

I wash my face

Really look at what I have done

Rub in the soothing cream 

Today I will check the mailbox 

See what beckons me from the outside world 

Then I will walk

Cast my eyes up to the sky

Watch the parting clouds 

And butterscotch sun 

Thankful that I have been given another day

Thankful that like Jesus, I will make it count. 

For Shay’s Word Garden 

Whispers

The birds are whispering in the kitchen

As we are stirring tea

We swept up the dust

Tidied the table

Watched the leaves spin in the boiling water

We take a deep breath

As the day begins to dawn 

We lick our fingers

Wipe away the sweet juices of the fruit 

Today will be kind, not cruel

We hope 

Alice spins in her pale blue gown 

Far from sorrow and tears 

She remembers when she escaped

Down the river

Solving riddles

Tumbling through glass and mirrors

The sky is grey and heavy

Perhaps there will be rain 

We would like to jump in puddles 

Reach out to the clouds

We add fresh milk to the golden liquid

Set out saucers and cups

The teaspoons chime against the china lips

We are happy together in the morning silence

We wish that every hour could be quiet

But strangers invade our thoughts

Present us with their own riddles 

Ones we care not to solve

Alice hums

I crease my brow

Why so many troubles? 

It is hard to just be 

To weather the storms 

But with every day we learn 

And the world tumbles out before us. 

Scream

I remember when I screamed

I was fifteen and scared

I did not understand why my world was falling apart

No one came to me

Though they must have heard

And I locked my door

A small measure of safety in a dangerous world

The scream changed me

Changed my world into before and after

It was physical and mental 

I was breaking down 

Never to be the same again 

I wish someone would have held me 

Made the unhappiness stop 

But they made their choices 

And overlooked me

Now I try to make noise but find I am blocked

I yawn and stretch 

Open my mouth but only air comes out

Alice giggles

She is always singing but I’ve never heard her scream

That is good

It must mean she is happy 

I am glad I am no longer running 

No longer screaming 

I am glad I am in control of the doors 

That I am safer, not at the mercy of other’s mistakes 

But I cannot forgive and I cannot forget 

To reach a place of such despair was terrifying 

And I was good, I did not deserve to feel such pain 

From now on I will try to scream with delight 

Like riding a roller coaster or opening the window in a storm 

Unlearn all the things that were instilled in me as a child 

I do not want to remember the past 

I do not want to give it the gift of my time and thoughts

Perhaps one day I will laugh just like Alice 

I am glad we have each other 

That we are both rescued from Wonderland 

Beyond the grasp of uncaring hands. 

School

Alice sharpens her pencils and opens her book 

Today we are writing about school 

Where to start 

It feels very far away and my memory is fading 

I do not remember the building 

Or the noise and smell

I would imagine I found it hard 

All the intrusions  

But then again nowhere was truly safe

Alice makes notes

Looks at my face 

Twelve years I spent, learning the rules

Trying to fit in 

I never did 

I enjoyed the lessons 

Writing down information as if it were the key to success

I enjoyed the silence of exams

When everybody’s heads were bowed

Concentrating, the way I thought school should be

Not the laughter and mischief other children used to enjoy

I do remember the bells 

How they punctuated my day 

Beginning to end, every hour 

I dreaded the last bell

The one that signalled it was time to go home 

A place I also choose not to remember 

Nobody asked me how my day was

What I was learning 

What I enjoyed

What I hated

I existed in a vacuum 

An unhappy void

I hear Alice’s pencils scraping across the page

I don’t want her to ever dislike learning 

So I stop remembering the past 

It is best left forgotten

We will make our own school 

A place where we are valued

We will learn something new every day

Not by design but by choice

If we stumble across a new word we will look it up

If we see something in the skies we will stop and look 

We will get lost in books

Hold hands and skip from breakfast, to lunchtime to tea 

And glorious bed time

School is not a place or time or state of being 

It is a constant process of opening your mind 

Alice draws a picture 

Shows it to me

How marvellous I say and she is happy 

That is what school should be.

Flash

The trip was all over in a flash 

One minute we were by the river

The next we were taking tea

The trees and seats were strong

Enough to hold the party 

Sugar lumps falling from the vines

Close enough to reach and pluck

Savour with delight

Strange to be in this foreign place

But to hold no fear 

We have been in scarier places

Not so long ago

This new world is strange

Not quite real yet

It leaves us with a yearning for something more

As if with each day we are both growing and shrinking

Vanishing here and there

We would not go back to the past

Alice taps the top of my head

As if to say remember 

Be warned

She sighs

As if I am the child

Which perhaps sometimes I am 

I have been blind for many years

Lost in my thoughts and worries

Unable to move forward 

As frustrating as a chess game

When we do not know the rules

Nor really wish to play

Sweet music fills the air 

We tap our feet and hum

The days spread out like blank paper 

Waiting to be filled 

We bend and stretch

Read and write

But nothing is like the trip and fall

We float back to the river 

Happy to find ground 

To let the cool water trickle between our toes 

And to know that soon a hazy sleep will take us.