NEGGLES - A soldiers mascot

When Bertie went away to war so much was on his mind
For he had to leave his wife and brand new son behind
Turned his head at the street corner, waved and blew a kiss
To the loved ones in his life he would so desperately miss

But unbeknown to Bertie and packed within his kit
Were pairs of socks his wife had stayed up late at night to knit
A letter and few photos wrapped in a change of underwear
And pushed down in the corner, was little Neggles bear

Elsie cried for days in secret, though knew it had to be
That her beloved Bertie had to fight for his country
‘A better life for us’ he said as they cuddled in the night
Bertie had learned already that nothing is gained without a fight

Neggles bear was feeling anxious for he had done all this before
When Berties dad had fought for freedom in the First World War
They saw so many dreadful sights, until Tom finally got hit
Got sent home with a shattered leg and Neggles in his pocket

Bertie had not forgotten the stories that his father had told
When cuddled under blankets to keep out all the cold
For work was out the question if you had a gammy leg
And Tom was far to proud a man to be seen to go and beg

Tom passed on his dreams in stories, with Bertie on his knee
Told his son of the wonderful life that one day would be
Even kissed him on the cheek once, which was something very rare
An action never seen before by Neggles teddy bear

Now Neggles bear and Bertie were off to war once more
Bertie very anxious, Neggles having seen it all before
Last time it was the trenches, this time it would be tanks
Both times to fight for their country with very little thanks

Little Neggles was uncertain of where his place should be
As a mascot to young Bertie or to comfort poor Elsie
But Elsie knew that Bertie had brought a soldier home before
And hoped beyond hope that he could do the same once more

Once Bertie had found Neggles in the corner of his kit
He kissed him on the cheek, just once, and placed him in his pocket
Felt so very safe again knowing that Elsie cared so much
To send her love with Neggles so they would always be in touch

ILLUSION LOST ON ME

Ever had a day when you wish you were somewhere else ...
I was trying an observation ...

It's no accident that the Windows screen on my PC defaults to sky blue.

Windows, sky blue, I can see the laughter that went around the office at Microsoft when they decided that one!

An illusion, like seeing faces in clouds, to make us feel good about where we are.

That little flag too, no accident, pretty flower in the blue vase gently blowing in the breeze of the window, a small, not insignificant gift from Bill Gates.

Such a clever lot that lot at Microsoft! Leaving the label on, nice touch guys.

They think I will want to spend my whole day staring into the Window, beyond the window beyond the blue skies.

But the illusion is lost on me.

Dependant on my fingers dancing over the stepping stones, choreographed to perfection.

Of my hand gently squeezing the ears of the rodent, who I need to be my friend

Dance, dance, miss not a step. Be much more gentle with the right ear.

Looking to the other window,

the sky is grey.

And THEN he said ...

.

I do not have to do for you
The things you do for me
Like cook and clean, iron your jeans
Or make you cups of tea

I do my bit, I go to work
Bring home my weekly wages
I take you shopping every week
To Tesco or to Sainsburys

I don’t put away the shopping
And why I’m sure you know
We’ve only been married thirty years
And I don’t know where things go

I don’t get annoyed when you don’t sit down
And help do the crossword with me
You never hear me complaining because
You’re in the kitchen washing up after tea

It’s easy for you in your office all day
Drinking tea, tapping away on a computer
You don’t understand the stresses I have
In my van, as a motorway commuter

I’ve been outside all day in the wet and the cold
I need to relax with the paper and coffee
So please don’t complain when you get indoors
That you have to set to and cook tea

For I’m easy to please with my meals
You don’t have to spend hours in the kitchen
But because you’re my wife and you love me
Please remember my favourite’s roast chicken!

After I’ve eaten, showered and watched TV
I’ll maybe pop to the pub for a couple
Yes, I know that you haven’t sat down yet tonight
But at least it helps you stiff back keep supple

I get so wound up when you get annoyed
And shout about my not helping you
Because I never complain, do I ever
About all of the things that YOU do

So my darling dear wife
Please just try and see
That you do all of these things
Because

...
You love me!

.

THE APPOINTMENT

Somewhere in the distance of my mind I hear my name being called and find myself heading towards the dark oak door at the end of the corridor. I feel as if I am walking deeper and deeper into the darkness and each step requires more effort than the last. The sounds from the ancient pipework along the walls seems to laugh at my struggle.
He is waiting for me and I shiver at the sight of his pin-striped suit clashing with his bold shirt. Entering the room I become a prisoner as the door closes behind me. He waits for me to sit down on the chair in front of the heavy leather topped desk and then sits opposite me, leaning back in an old hide upholstered chair. Lowering his bifocals to the edge of his nose, he peers over the lens towards me, making a mental note of what he thinks my body language is revealing.
My eyes wander round the room resting anywhere but on his face, my fingers fiddle with the crocheted edge of my cardigan. He was expecting me to say something, I know that, but I can't. My toes rub hard against the insoles of my shoes as if trying to make an escape route for me, and looking to the floor to avoid his stare, I notice he is wearing a different pair of shoes this week.
I desperately want to be heard, I want to say something to make him understand, but have no way of describing the vast blackness that engulfs me.

With my head down, I glance up to my notes on the desk and wonder what sort of person has been filed away in there. How accurate are the comments he has scribbled about me each week as we sit in the silence? What is the point of it all … I feel no different. I don't ‘feel’ at all. Feelings can be described, identified, recognised.

My heart beats as it tries to escape my body and be set free from the confines of my ribcage. An expert in creating external pain to curb internal torment I pinch hard into my skin, but this does nothing to distract me. Releasing my fingertips, the pain abandons me, I am alone …
As my eyes search the room for something, anything, to focus on, I catch a glimpse of his face and realise he is speaking, but his words are lost to me. There is no room left inside me. If I let in a single letter from his words, I will explode, but if I let go of anything, anything at all, the barrier will be broken. A wave of nausea passes through my body.
He closes my file indicating the ‘therapeutic’ hour is now over for him, but for me … nothing had changed.










May 2008

SUMMER OF '69

Summer fields invaded by love and peace
Isle of Wight in sixty nine

Beads and scarves and matted hair
Starry eyes and hazy smiles

Thirty first of August for just one night
Bob Dylan with guitar sings

How I wish that I was there
Instead I dream from Pontins

Bee Gees Don’t forget to remember me
The juke box constantly pleads

Ding Dong Good Morning Campers
Go away and let me sleep!

The worlds gone crazy in the other field
Or so my granddad tells me

So wrong the drugs and free love
It’s different with my mummy

My mum’s on drugs but it’s OK you see
Because she’s so unhappy

Wearing plastic smiles all day
And doesn’t even know me

I wish the photographer hadn’t done
The photos in the bedroom

Sleazy snapshots of her breasts
My gut had said not trust him

I went to make sure that she’d be safe
She was wearing drugged up eyes

Just sixteen when he touched me
And the inside of me died

Everybody’s thinking that I hate her
They are so far from the truth

I just want her as my mum
Not living my stolen youth

So in the year twenty five twenty five
Perhaps I’ll come back again

To love and peace abundant
Put the juke box on my friend

HAIKU ... Monday morning

Pass stranger at dawn
Birdsong chorus in my ears
He had his ipod

Michaelmas Daisies
Stir long forgotten memories
Childhood dreams awake

LAUGHTER ...and tears ...

.

Laughter … and tears
Our memory builder
Childhood dreams
Shared
A boy and his mum
From one, grow older

Talking … for hours
Far into the night
About worries
Dreams
Not getting it wrong
But getting it right

A boy … to a man
In almost a day
Her firstborn
Gone
Not able to share
He was taken away

Kept … at a distance
Would be sad as a song
Jealousy
Kills
Eats and destroys
While love mends a wrong

Don’t deny … love
Of the purest kind
A candle
Glows
Keep it safe
Let it dance in the wind