Glass Ceiling


 Glass Ceiling
 Speak your loud words 
 Break your chains
 Nay! 
 Shout your loud words
 Break life's chains
 Stop! 
 Discrimination
Hatred
 Cronyism
 Scream louder your words 
 Smash!
 That glass ceiling.
 ©Carol Robson  

Smash That Glass Ceiling.


Speak your loud words
Break your chains
Nay!
Shout your loud words
Break life’s chains
Stop!
Discrimination
Cronyism
Scream louder your words
Smash!
That fucking glass ceiling.
Carol Robson 2015.

My Valentine Bad Luck by Carol Robson.


(This is a revised version of a poem I wrote a few years back for an anti-valentine poetry slam)

My Valentine Bad Luck

Valentine’s day,
just another Hallmark day,
commercial hype to pluck your pockets.
Chaucers fault, with his love birds,
verse after verse cards
finger down throat words.

I’ve loved and lost all year round
Valentine’s day
doesn’t make it anymore special
A lover can fuck it up, on any day,
it happens to us all, straight or gay.

Valentine gifts arrive in different ways
Yet! Do they really know you?
Sometimes so clueless,
with chocs or other delicacies.
I’m on a bloody diet,
or they set off, my fucking allergies.

Then the one, who always buys flowers,
every significant date, a dozen of the best
Time to tell them, you really hate the rose,
especially if they get on one knee,
about to propose.

Once I received the perfect Valentine gift,
I thought.
Perfect gift, the most beautiful rabbit
Valentine bad luck, was to continue,
the rabbit died, went out like a light.
Suddenly realised, batteries included,
were really Shite.

If like me you’re on your own,
do spare a thought,
for those in love
For you still have choice and freewill.
Just grow old disgracefully,
before it all goes, downhill.
© Carol Robson 2015

Women’s Space in Spoken Word by Carol Robson.


Women’s Space in Spoken Word.

I’m here to challenge
for you to listen
hear my voice
hear my inner soul.

Shouting
you need to see me
you need to hear me.

My voice is valuable
my space is valuable
this space is genderless
value the voice
value my words.

My right to occupy
my right to share
my voice is to be heard
my words are priceless
value me
value the person
I’m an equal person
I’m an equal voice.
We gave you a voice
respect ours.

© Carol Robson 2013

A Love Nurtured In Blood by Carol Robson.


Poem from the revised/edited 2nd edition of Words of Darkness and Light published by Thynks Publications.

A Love Nurtured in Blood (Sapphic)

And now my life is flashing by,
Four hundred years upon this earth.
My ancient love, the reason why
You gave to me immortality.

Made me your bride in ancient times,
Spent together, living on.
We sucked blood, we bit new flesh.
We drained life force and felt refreshed.

Creatures nightly moved in shadows,
Centuries of blood-fueled lust;
All societies, all fair game.
Folklore and legends we became.

I’ve seen wars and cruel destruction.
I’ve seen horrors – genocide.
I’ve seen torture, men and women.
I’ve seen little children slain.

My love’s now gone and I grow weary,
My body weak with skin now scarred,
Flashes of sunlight drive me to twilight,
Retreating to my shadowy home.

No longer I yearn for fresh, warm blood.
I’ve been here for far too long.
Alone without you, longing for you.
Peace invites me as I come home.

©Carol Robson 2014

I’m Back by Carol Robson


I’M BACK.

A long day
of lesser function.
cloth eared
muffled sounds
running on adrenalin.
Coffee and tablets
the diet of function
working in a cloud,
dysfunctional,
out of sorts
out of place.
Makes the effort
cracks appear
dysfunctional cloud
heavy weather day
wanes to brightness
soul and spirit
shines through,
perseverance,
I’m back.


Copyright: Carol Robson 2014

PIP Implant Scandal, A Mess.


PIP Implant Scandal, A Mess.

PIP implant scandal,
did affect me.
Both were ruptured,
silicon ran free.
My health, fractured,
suffering and pain
which alas,
no one could explain.

Questions asked,
went higher and higher,
then they made you feel,
like a pariah.
It became newsworthy
helping the cause.
PIP campaign women
earned my applause.

Interviews given,
hearing many a story,
hoping they would help
not looking for glory.

Many women, still need advice and aid,
only a little, is coming their way.
Toxic implants as they degrade,
really must, be taken away.

This must never happen again
causing so much pain,
causing so much heartache,
from a company, that was a fake.

PIP implant scandal,
caused so much stress,
so never again,
should we suffer,
such a mess.

©Carol Robson 2014

both implantsThese were my PIP Implants removed May 2012

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

 

Nine Women.


Let me just say before you read this poem, there are estimated to be 40 -50 thousand women in the UK who were given the toxic PIP breast implants.  This poem is just about one small group of women coming together wanting to help each other but also wanting to help others.  I hope there are other similar groups out there supporting each other.  However, at the end of the day it needs the voices of all women with PIP implants to come together and make the UK Government and Dept of Health see sense, there is a duty of care, because we are seeing lives destroyed through ill-health caused by the toxins leaking from these implants.  I certainly do not want to see another beautiful young woman take her life, because no one would help her 😦

Nine Women

by

Carol Robson

 

Nine women with no connection

living their lives, blissfully unaware

that news would send them in another direction

panic and cries for help, for nobody seemed to care.

 

Nine women told, you have PIP breast implants

created en Mas, and given to you without regard

consequences for your health, feeling like pants

body, mind and soul now in torment and scarred.

 

Nine women searching for answers in despair

who will help? For some of you the clinics don’t listen

days full of tears and heartache, does anybody care?

Hopes and dreams in shreds, as your lives are rewritten.

 

Nine women needing help, decide to do something about it

savings now gone, as you’re asked to pay again

to be rid of toxic implants that make you feel like shit

as you realise you’re not alone, your life enters a new domain.

 

Nine women finding each other, coming together as one

not sitting on their backsides, a purpose of lives to enhance

together to help each other, until the PIP’s are gone

wanting your lives back, despite your problems of finance.

 

Nine women inspired by a tenth, your Guardian Angel

a friend guiding you, with help and advice to reach new highs.

Inspiring you as one to get you through this living hell

an angel, side by side with the Nine, as they reach for the skies .

 

Nine women with their angel and wonderful allies

standing tall, rising above all to help each friend

always there for each other, through lows and highs

together raising funds, until the bitter end.

 

Marching onwards, to do whatever it takes, they will troop

A force to be reckoned with, are this PIP friends group.

© Carol Robson 2012