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Posts Tagged ‘Ponderings from Paisley’

 

Forever Yew

The Craigends Yew by Rashelle Reid

Yew

tree, layering,

enticing; the curious,

the seeker to contemplate,

signs, rebirth is always occurring

and that even decay can herald

the birth of new life.

As the cycle continues

and the circle

remains unbroken

forever.

 

Forever Yew

The Craigends Yew by Rashelle Reid


 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Craigends_Yew

 

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I birthed the future

carried constellations within

elemental entities

of fire and air

both masculine and feminine

the sun and the wind

stars made of sunshine

light beams of dreams

burning it down

and soaring above

reborn from the ashes

devoted in love

I birthed the future

With new horizons to explore

On the cusp of adventure

Awaits many new shores

Four new worlds

creating,

colliding

Intersecting,

expanding

together

yet apart

Sharing one universe

And always my heart

I birthed the future

Under the sun and the moon

Touching heaven

While still here on Earth

I am the life bringer

The deliverer of lions

And the breath of life

The mother of miracles,

Laboured in love

To bring forth

The scales of justice

Weighed in from above

I birthed the future

Carried constellations within

I birthed the future

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Much as I wish life was always sweet,
that every rainy day brought a coulorful treat.
That every blade of grass really tickled our ass
and that the bumps were only minor as the hurdles we pass.
Much as I wish we had no troubles to endure,
as we barely tread water as we reach for the shore.
Much as I wish there weren’t times it felt like we’re drowning
and our bonnie wee smiles were replaced by frowning.
Much as I wish no kids were abused,
no women were tortured and sexually used.
Much as I wish there was equality for all
there’s never gonna be unless we answer the call.
The call from inside, the silent screams of the tortured.
The ones that so many don’t want to hear
not realising there hiding from their own fears.
Scared to pay attention to the world around
their hands on their ears to drown out the sound.
Looking to La La Land where all is well,
they preach positivity in the stories they sell.
Never stopping for a moment to simply embrace truth,
ignoring reality and dismissing the proof.
In la La Land no strength is needed
only sweet things are ever seeded.
In La La Land you won’t have to fight to survive
you’ll never learn what it truly takes to thrive.
In La la Land compassion has dried up
because it’s easier to blame someone if they’re fucked up.
In La La Land there’s no space for tears
in case it triggers someone’s fears.
In la La Land don’t dare cry
and don’t dig deeper or question why.
In La Land there is no toil
just scatter the seeds on the top soil.
No need for water to wash our hands
as we’re too clean here to understand.
Dirt is needed to grow something big,
courage is a beautiful bloom for which we must dig.
Think positive they scream if you show your fears,
if you’re brought to your knees and shed your tears.
Never contemplating, blind to see that our knees offer support when the pain’s too much
and all we need is a human touch.
A smile, a hug, a reassurance we’ll get through,
that we can make it in this crazy zoo.
That though we’re weak we’ll rise again like the sun in the sky and the tides keep flowing.
Never pondering that from this pain we’re growing.
That positivity is knowing you can survive another day,
and being honest about what your heart needs to say.
That not topping yourself is the ultimate goal
when your legs are as weak as a new born foal.
So my friends there’s something I hope I’ve helped you understand
I don’t want to live in fucking La La Land.

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No-one understands it, they all think I’ve gone mad.

Stuck in this crazy situation that can only be described as bad

It’s a very controlling relationship that subtlety rules my life.

When it goes fecking wild it causes me much strife.

It chipped away slowly, making me doubt myself.

Took me a wee while to notice, I now reside in hell.

Can’t go out my legs won’t stop shaking,

You’ve probably noticed my voice is quaking

I look like an alkie, with the DT’s

Or a junkie that’s been brought to her knees.

Down in the dumps, brain fog clouds my head.

It’s even made me wish that I was blooming dead.

Weights falling of me, I’m a shadow of myself

Maybe I’ll just fade away for my final farewell

My feet get so itchy as I try to walk away,

Energy non-existent, need to wait another day.

It’s not just my feet, my legs and back too.

Can’t get to sleep, no wonder I’m so blue.

Just scratching the surface, skimming the shore.

As I scream louder and louder, I can’t take anymore

No longer got it in me to even look at a Facebook page,

It’s just not worth dealing with the internal rage.

I’m as up and down as our Highland landscape,

Too many days where I want to escape

Trembling inside, here we go again.

The volcanoes exploding, will it ever end?

All control lost now, as I keep tumbling down.

That never-ending smile now replaced by a frown.

A little, tiny butterfly trying to break through its cocoon

A little tiny butterfly tuned to the cycles of the moon.

The wings begin to flap and my whole world is affected.

Emotional upheaval with this thyroid that is infected.

Rashelle Reid

This hopefully explains a little why I’ve not been blogging very much lately. I hope to be back soon but couldn’t let National Poetry Day pass without sharing something with my friends.  Both overactive and underactive thyroid conditions cause a lot of problems for the person affected but also for their friends and family too so I’ve added some links that I’ve found particularly useful for anyone who wishes to know more.  I’ve also added the link to something I wrote last year for National Poetry Day.  Big massive thanks to all the supporters of my blog who’ve been sharing while I’ve not been around, really appreciate your support. Love and blessings, Rashelle

https://rashellereid.wordpress.com/2014/03/21/happy-poetry-day/

http://thyroid.about.com/od/bookssupportresources/a/letter-to-family-friends.htm?utm_term=living%20with%20hyperthyroidism&utm_content=p1-main-3-title&utm_medium=sem&utm_source=msn&utm_campaign=adid-52229e27-40b0-429a-93a7-b4cfe5e640a4-0-ab_msb_ocode-29576&ad=semD&an=msn_s&am=broad&q=living%20with%20hyperthyroidism&dqi=&o=29576&l=sem&qsrc=999&askid=52229e27-40b0-429a-93a7-b4cfe5e640a4-0-ab_msb

http://thyroid.about.com/od/alternativeholisticinfo/a/chronicdisease.htm?utm_term=coping%20with%20hyperthyroidism&utm_content=p2-main-4-title&utm_medium=sem-sub&utm_source=msn&utm_campaign=adid-52229e27-40b0-429a-93a7-b4cfe5e640a4-0-ab_msb_ocode-29576&ad=semD&an=msn_s&am=broad&q=coping%20with%20hyperthyroidism&dqi=&o=29576&l=sem&qsrc=998&askid=52229e27-40b0-429a-93a7-b4cfe5e640a4-0-ab_msb

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Fantasy Fairies084

Delusion can be delightful,

at other times quite frightful

Dallying in a day-dream,

foraying in fantasy.

Always a bump,

coming back to reality.

Twinkling with the stars,

or soaring through the air.

Pretending for a while,

not to have a single care.

Then reality bites,

like a rabid dog.

Pulling you out,

of a self-induced fog.

Legs are wobbly,

takes a moment to ground.

Need to re-focus,

by looking around.

Settling down,

strapping in for the ride.

Remembering there’s nowhere,

really to hide.

The truth waits for no one,

at your peril ignore.

The rumblings that come

from deep in your core.

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The story of Rabbie’s red, red, rose runs deeper than you might have imagined and it even has a Paisley connection.

DSC_0071“The ‘Red, Red Rose’, however, only achieved popularity when matched to ‘Low down in the Broom’, and air which first appeared in the Caledonian Pocket Companion. Burns’s words and the air ‘Low down in the Broom’ were first brought together by the Paisley composer and editor, Robert Archibald Smith, in his Scottish Minstrel, published in 1821.” Read more…

http://www.robertburns.org/encyclopedia/UrbaniPietro17491511816.871.shtml

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

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Swallow the frog, they told me.

It seemed like a fair idea.

But where were the instructions,

For when I’d been consumed by fear.

It’s all right saying swallow it,

but it had already eaten me.

While I was inside starving,

The frog had eaten its tea.

Inside the sounds were deafening

As digestion problems arose.

Lots of grumbling and groaning,

I couldn’t help it, I froze.

I couldn’t see the light,

As the clenching muscles tightened,

It’s never easy to admit,

But I was bloody frightened.

Swallow the frog they told me,

But I’d been consumed myself.

Maybe if I’d been quicker.

I wouldn’t be in this hell.

Maybe if I’d been stronger,

I’d have beaten the frog hands down.

Maybe it I’d been wiser,

Instead of behaving like a clown

Maybe if I’d been brighter,

Or asked for help sooner,

Maybe if life was easier,

And we weren’t trained consumers.

Maybe I could escape,

This situation I’d encountered,

If only I could stop myself

as I spiraled downward.

Bruised and beaten,  by the frog eaten.

Eyes tired from greeting but my heart was still beating.

It’s not over yet, I can still turn it round.

Just need to get my feet on solid ground.

Guts still churning I took a deep breath,

Faced with the prospect of sudden death.

With it all to play for I decided to take a chance,

And now me and the frog have started to dance.

I conquered the fear, I lifted the cloud.

I’d faced the demons and unwrapped the shroud.

Reborn again with the lessons intact.

He’ll not eat me again and that’s a fact!

 

 

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