Single Awareness Day (February 14th)


Single Awareness Day

 

February fourteenth is Valentines Day

another chance to fill the coffers.

A card, flowers, presents to give

commercialism filling their pockets.

One day just to say, I love you

 

Promotion, advertising

pushed at you since the New Year.

Magazines, newspapers, television too

just to say on that one day.

I love you

 

Emphasis on couples,

sharing their love.

Why do they need a special day?

everyday should be special.

If you love someone so much

 

How does it feel to be single?

grown tired of all this hype.

Many different reasons, for being single

cherish your life, cherish your friends.

February fourteenth is,

Single Awareness Day

 

© 2011 Carol Robson

Love Transcends.


(Poem about Iphis and Ianthe from the story in Ovid’s  Metamorphoses Book 9)

 

Love Transcends.

(Iphis and Ianthe)

 

A raging fire burned

loves flames kindled

elicited by your beauty

innocence in despair

knowing this love

betrothed in ignorance

by a loving father

unaware of deceit

by a loving mother

accepting the truth

of the prophecy of Isis.

 

The Gods frowning

a Sapphic love

not yet countenanced

there should not be

girl with girl.

My desires

my beautiful Ianthe

that you be man

or even I

to consummate

to bring purity

for our love desires.

 

True love triumphs

above all foolishness

love is much more

than decreeing

the genders

of who has

madness to love

or to lie with

their desired bride.

 

Decreed by Isis

our troth fulfilled

I’m now man

rendered by Goddess

for satisfaction

of the Gods

and families.

Yet! my beautiful Ianthe

our love transcends

Gods, Goddess and Gender.

 

©Carol Robson 2013

 

I Don’t Recognise Me


Poem about experiencing the cycle of Domestic Abuse/Violence.

I Don’t Recognise Me

A shadow of my former self

once strong in soul and spirit

now a shaking quivering husk

how the hell, did I allow this.

 

I loved you with all my soul

an eternity together, so I thought

sharing a burning desire of love and lust

together, we were as one.

 

I should have seen the signs

little things at first, so subtle

mind games, controlling, never any trust.

I was no longer a free spirit.

 

What am I doing wrong, I feared

I’m driving you away, losing you.

It is my fault, I’ll do better

anything, just to please you.

 

Never realising, this was your control cycle

making me feel so worthless

you loved me, because no one else would

my soul broken, now so afraid.

 

Living in fear, constantly having to please

everything perfect for your homecomings

hiding my alcohol and drug crutches

just my means of getting through, another day.

 

Time passes by as in slow motion

always hoping, it will be better

my false hopes and dreams

soon to be completely shattered.

 

A little slap at first, then it begins

my fear of violence, committed

my life as a punch bag, began,

how did you become this monster.

 

Black and blue, the blood shows

hiding away so no one can see

a quivering wreck, not so pretty

cowered, by this coward, that I once loved.

 

Cut and bruised after all these years,

I crawled away to a safer place

a haven for me to heal and repair,

I was wrong, I’m not alone.

 

Self-confidence and spirit destroyed

a love of life teetering on the edge

time will heal, so they say,

alas, I’m long gone,

I don’t recognise me.

 

© Carol Robson 2011

 

Who Am I?


Who Am I?

 

I know something is wrong,

getting forgetful, losing stuff.

Little things at first, but soon,

I recognise that this is not right.

I sit here, my favourite chair,

most days – long days I think.

 

No recognition;

who is this man who brings me another cuppa? 

He seems to do so much for me, these days,

he isn’t my dad.

Dad has lots of hair, I remember so curly,

can’t be my dad.

Keep hearing people saying;

SHAME and she is only 53.

 

Good days, I remember Tom,

this man who is always here.

I think we are married,

third finger left hand a ring. 

He’s a good man, I think!

 

Takes me to see the Doc for my check-up;

I think he’s a Doc.

Listening thingy hanging from his neck,

wants to listen to my chest.

Doc blows on it, making it warm,

listening thingy not my chest.

Doc speaks to the man with me,

hey-up I’m here, not invisible,

feels like I’m being ignored, not a child,

even if childhood seems like yesterday.

 

Hours just watching the moving pictures

on the box in the corner of the room

Coronation St always a favourite,

where is Elsie Tanner? 

 

Young man, a woman, a little boy visit,

most weekends, I think. 

Vague memories, then lucidity,

he is my son, boy my grandson I’m told,

he makes me laugh and smile,

good days, happy days. 

Bad days; this boy taps my head,

anyone at home he asks,

 bad times I want to spank the little sod,

my dad would.

 

Drifting in and out of time,

this man Ted, Tom or is it Tim?

Does so much, he looks tired, I’m tired,

but I’m bloody angry, frustrated.

This man holds my wrists,

I’m so angry, I’m crying, why me?

I know I love him, then he is a stranger,

where are my Mum and Dad?

Their little girl needs them,

angry, frustrated!

 

I’m lonely in this place full of people. 

Another home, no memories,

just a crowd of blank faces,

just like mine in the mirror. 

Who am I?

© 2014 Carol Robson

 

Sod’Em (Sodom)


Sod'Em

SOD’EM

(SODOM)

(this is a poem from my Gay Biblical Whispers Set: Sod’Em using Yorkshire dialect words, see picture for word meanings)

 

Eyup

Sitha  a reet rum lot these

nowt like being a bit blathered

heads together

having a good chunter

perhaps without gumption

can’t keep dawks off each other

having a fratch

or a good feight

seen by religious leaders

who are really

a reet maungy mardy lot

to be getting narked

with a group baht common sense

who appear to be fugglin

who they treat as Straif

or just the Trammel of society

who they would never Tig

or never Lig with.

 

Perhaps there was,

really nowt  indecent

perhaps they called,

each other Conny

affection shown,

just having a reet good time

they weren’t really bad un’s

just showing love

eeh by gum I love everyone.

Now then my flowers

I’m certainly not flummoxed

when I say they should have

huggered up and shouted

at the Mardy bums

SOD’EM ALL!

 

©Carol Robson 2013

Ben! Never Forgotten by Carol Robson


This is a poem I wrote for my friend Kerry, mother of Ben Needham.

Go here for all updates and events http://www.helpfindben.co.uk/

Ben! Never Forgotten
(For my friend Kerry and her family)

The sun shone brightly
just another idyllic Grecian day
family together sharing good times
with laughter and dreams of future plans.

In the blink of an eye
it all changed on that day
my darling boy playing, then,
as if in a flash of blinding sunlight
you disappeared from our eyes.

Stealthily taken from the family bosom
the pain driven through our hearts
as we searched for you, through tears
that never dried in the scorching sun.

Hours and days passed by
dreams and hopes of your return
never diminishing as I held
your favourite things to my heart
now soaked in heartbroken tears.

Twenty one years have now passed by
but every second down these years
you’ve been in our constant thoughts
our lives broken by those that stole you away
but they never stole you from our hearts
our spirits to find you are still unbroken.

One day I know you will return
a mother’s belief, so strong, never undone
to hug you, to kiss you, is what I yearn
you’re never forgotten, beautiful Ben, my son.

© Carol Robson 2012

Ben! Never Forgotten by Carol Robson


This is a poem I wrote for my friend Kerry, mother of Ben Needham.

Ben! Never Forgotten
(For my friend Kerry and her family)

The sun shone brightly
just another idyllic Grecian day
family together sharing good times
with laughter and dreams of future plans.

In the blink of an eye
it all changed on that day
my darling boy playing, then,
as if in a flash of blinding sunlight
you disappeared from our eyes.

Stealthily taken from the family bosom
the pain driven through our hearts
as we searched for you, through tears
that never dried in the scorching sun.

Hours and days passed by
dreams and hopes of your return
never diminishing as I held
your favourite things to my heart
now soaked in heartbroken tears.

Twenty one years have now passed by
but every second down these years
you’ve been in our constant thoughts
our lives broken by those that stole you away
but they never stole you from our hearts
our spirits to find you are still unbroken.

One day I know you will return
a mother’s belief, so strong, never undone
to hug you, to kiss you, is what I yearn
you’re never forgotten, beautiful Ben, my son.

© Carol Robson 2012