Creative Coping


S.C.Alexander, died 14th June 2009, POW, Changi, 1940-1945
June 17, 2009, 9:23 pm
Filed under: bereavement, death, memories, pain | Tags: , , , , , , ,

That skull there on

The pillow,

One two three we

Heave him up,

Belch,

One two three we

Let him down, down,

Death bubbles in his

Guts,

Fiddles the clockwork

In his heart.

A nappy smothers

Paper skin and knees hover, angling,

Buzzards above the

Wan skeleton, barely

Worth the fuss.

His eyes are lidded

And the curtain’s shut

But for the odd crack

Of Pain and Cricket,

Outside.

In they come, ‘The family’,

He mouths and seems to say,

As he lifts bone to

Palm, before the bridge

Breaks and his life flows

Off, prisoner no more,

Away.



Fatal Reflection

Round and round it swings

With centrifucal force,

The cycle of pain and self torment, the

Frustration of procrastination

Why not do it today?

Cant! Wont?

Loud the pound, Narcissus

Streaming round the brain,

Pumping full the eardrums

With the sound of sheer

Doom

Boom, it goes, again.

 

Forget the sun, what

You had won through

Ernest Toil.

The boil on your leg is the

Clumsy spy, whose

Yellow fuss gives away

Conspiracies beneath;

Self sabotage.



Girl in 5 parts
June 11, 2009, 6:51 pm
Filed under: growth, healing, love, nature, pain, regression, shame, strength | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

1.

My name is girl

My age is when

I feel the day

My height is fringed

With misty things, the haze

That surrounds all,

Air , or something like it,

Electrical.

Part 2.

My fate is but a worm

Squirming in the sand

Beneath an apple on the

Beach.

My rubbery coil senses Autumn’s

Mellow fruit but feels

Only grit and cigarette ends,

Yellowed with spit

And the odd spat of sea.

Part 3.

My Date is a round

Can of something fizzy,

A man, who’ll pop

And bubble over

With sense and tunes

Told well, with confidence

Like some voluntary tramp.

Part 4.

My ache is a bell

Bent out of shape

Chord twanged by the wrong

Hand. Who”s hand?

Who cares? Lets fix it,

If it’s copper it’ll meld well.

Part 5.

My tune is a song

Soldered on to the side

of my liver, an odd

Audience, granted,

But keen, it knows exactly

Where I’ve been and what

Deals Life’s dealt.

No, livers make grand audiences,

They’ll tell you whether or not

You were truly magnificent,

With their view from the stalls.



Poetry in a cafe called Coffee@Bricklane shortly before closing time

 

Sweeping round my feet, no ceremony.

Customer-centric ? What?-

Too close to closing time.

Anyway, this tables’s mine for now,

And on its pink lino I’ll rest

THis little black book,

And a tweed elbow

Like so many others, hordes, in fact,

Vintage with Youth.

 

I’m here now writing, instead

of Yoga or eating, to stop time

And take stock.

Of what? Of myself, of course-

Narcissism or self-awareness I can’t

Tell, self-indulgence, perhaps.

 

‘Soup of the Day was three pounds ten.

Why ten, what’s in it for them?!

Three pound is round.

Rhyming won’t get me anywhere.

 

One day I hope to be above all this.

Taller trees generally have deeper roots to

Counteract the blast of the wind.

 

Blast this music! Always the same

Here at Coffee@, NOISE,

Racket designed to be heard,

No need to listen.

 

Why have I come here

To get myself in tune – all this din.

Well, if I can’t tune here I can’t tune anywhere..

 

Thats it! Back to Kipling,

‘If you can keep your head when

All around are losing theirs

And blaming it on you..’

 

Yes. I’ll keep my wretched head and

Forget regret and neglect

The errors of a self

Lost, waiting for a way out

Not picking up Ariadnes’s

Guiding thread.



Wakeful
June 19, 2008, 9:18 pm
Filed under: eating, happiness, healing, health, hope, pain, shame, sleep | Tags: , , , , , , ,

Firm and awake is how I feel,

Now that day is done

And night is

Come to stop

The whirr of consciousness.

Today was easy,

There was no drag,

Low air resistance and I

Soared high, even

At my desk, sat on foam.

After lunch came cruel gut,

Prompting truancy, again

the shame of crunch and swallow-

But it passed and day dawned anew

With afternoon and bloodstream teeming-

Tasks were done and now,

I’m happy to explore the night and trip on sleep, by chance,

Busy looking for a dream.



Earth Glow
June 13, 2008, 6:53 pm
Filed under: health, hope, pain, strength | Tags: , , , , , ,

Beauty shall come and regal shall her entrance be

Crowned shall she be with solid gems

Wrought thick within a deep

Deep soul churning with sulphurous lava flows.

Now is the curdling agony, the

Deafening crash on Vulcan’s anvil.

Beauty will come when now is then,

And her train of delights shall clank

And glisten like cans

Under a ‘Just MARRIED’ number-plate.

Now,  gut groans and churns poison

Syphened off in toxic channels to limbs

Turgid with the rancour.

 



Pain’s Sweet Tooth
May 28, 2008, 7:34 pm
Filed under: control, eating, food, health, pain | Tags: , , , , , ,

Back in this place again

This place of doom and gloom

Bloated stomach passing for womb

Once i was well and pain

Was something felt from a

Prick of thorn or cut of steel

Not as now when it grows

From a live seed

Planted deep, sown down

In furrows, virulent its saplings writhe

For supremacy, squealing for

Sugar and coffee and tea

Cake and wine and syrup and cream,

Drops will not do, bring

Buckets for bowls, Life must

Be strained and stretched to

Feed Pain’s sweet tooth.