Bedlam – A Dash of Sunny

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I imagined you, standing over me,

breathing your death-breath into my soul.

I imagined my lungs inflating with the ashes of you

and I pressed against my chest to stop inhaling you –

but you were too strong.

You held my gaze,

your hazel eyes piercing mine

and I could see the thoughts in your head –

the roiling, churning black and vomit yellow

and I could not stop them infecting my

azure blue and foxglove purple.

You stole my days

You infused my nights

You were relentless.

I imagined you standing over me

and yet when I reached out for you,

you were not there.


 

It’s time for the latest prompt from A Dash of Sunny, where this week we are invited to write on loss and madness.

It’s no secret here to those who know me, that my dad died suddenly in 2013. I truly thought, during the time of sitting for 12 days, watching him slowly fade from coma to death, that I was going mad. I’m sure I wasn’t alone. It felt so unreal and surreal, and yet everyone at some point loses someone they love. How are we so unable to explain and prepare for this?

Anyway, during that time, and for a period after his death, my dreams were, unsurprisingly, very disturbed. it’s how we process and attempt to make sense of it all.

I hope this isn’t too depressing. Also – I am fine now! It’s just part of life’s rich tapestry, isn’t it?

Please do head on over to A Dash of Sunny and brace yourselves for strong, honest writing!

Bus – #SoCS Sept. 24/16

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On a Sunday morning, I’m probably the youngest person on the bus – and believe you me, I’m no teenager! Nor am I in my twenties or thirties… sigh!

But that got me thinking. Just because I am physically the youngest, does that mean I am also the youngest mentally? If I have my health and all my mental faculties about me when I’m a pensioner (or senior, as people of a certain age are known in other countries), I want to see the funny, light side of life. I want to find joy in the most mundane of things, have a cheeky sense of humour and not feel constricted by deadlines, by the Monday to Friday routine, by all those matters that can weigh us down when we’re of (standard) working age.

I have wondered, every now and again, what is going on in the minds of my older fellow travellers. I hope they are enjoying life in the way I aspire to, when I reach their age. They’ve contributed to society, paid their way, put the hours in. I think they deserve to kick back and wear a cheeky grin, don’t you?


 

It’s Saturday (hurrah!) so that means it’s time for the lovely Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, and this week she invites us to write using the word ‘bus’, or a word that includes it.

Please do hope on over to her blog to enjoy what others have written!

The darkling days – dVerse Open Link Night

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Many mourn the shortening days

the dark of the morning

and the gloom of the night.

Yet I revel in the coming home to lights on,

to big, fluffy slippers,

to curling up in the warmth

as the wind rattles window panes,

as fog seeps into every nook and cranny

and the rain lashes and batters the

naked trees outside.

I hibernate under the duvet,

snuggle into my pillows

hug my hot water bottle to my chest

and sigh, cosseted, safe indoors.

Autumn, do your worst.

Mittens are my friend.


It’s Thursday, and that means Open Link Night over on dVerse, where Bjorn, our friendly Swedish barkeep for tonight (thank you Bjorn) congenially invites us to share any poem we wish.

I was going to repost an old poem, but then decided to write on Autumn, which is really my favourite season of the year. I love lying in bed at night, cozy and warm, whilst the weather rages outside!

Please do take part, or if not, just come along and enjoy what our poetic community has shared!