The Way It Used to Be – Bernie Bickerton

I remember when only spiders had a Web

Special thanks to Bernie Bickerton for this sharp-witted and reflective offering. Can you remember those halcyon days before mobile phones and the internet? Bernie loves reading and writing poetry, and her passion certainly shines through in this brilliant piece – ‘a tongue in cheek view on the evolving use of language.’

The Way It Used To Be

I remember

When tweeting was only for birds,

When Kindle was only firewood,

When Windows were only looked through.

–

I remember

When dating required a meeting,

When Followers walked with Jesus,

When a hundred Friends was a demo.

–

I remember

When only spiders had a Web,

When only churches had an icon,

When only Hitchcock had Angry Birds.

–

I remember

When “to pin” was to prepare a hem,

When to Excel was to do well,

and I remember,

when you had a sunny Outlook.

© B Bickerton

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

The Decimation – Xavier Coughlan

under the guise of playing saviours

We are extremely grateful for the talented Xavier Coughlan’s offering to Voices, and we appreciate his support. Xavier is a student who often chooses to address the theme of mental health within his poetry. Eloquent, profound and thought-provoking, we are very fortunate that he has decided to share ‘The Decimation’. Thank you Xavier.

The Decimation

Berkshire. A high-security psychiatric hospital designed by architect Joshua Jebb to accommodate Britain’s most elusive and intuitive.

An assembly of ten,

unburdened by morals,

gathered one fierce night

to float suggestions

of a solution –

to fabricate subtleties

in catastrophe

and solve

what makes you man.

–

These mighty ten

had been convened

by fate and a sectioning law,

and together round a table,

crafted by Joseph’s son himself,

the group disputed your future.

–

The Richest clanged

for an annihilation;

the demolition of a continent

blessed not by wealth,

but by culture,

and all the economics

heritage entails,

under the guise

of playing saviours.

–

One proposed a decimation

and advocated it by tying a noose

and swaying from the hands of

Our strongest

and jiggling to the pain of their

blood-crossed hands.

–

We were subdued by two thoughts

in watching him dangle:

admiration for not being formulaic

in not using the flush of lighting;

and the eulogizing of his manifesto

in watching its flair unfold.

–

He was right.

That night, we shared his Lithium,

grinding the pills

into equal amounts –

complying with the cadaver.

Decimation was the future.

The decision had been made.

They bid farewell and set off

to tackle the execution.

Pax vobiscum

Xavier Coughlan, Pewsey, Wiltshire

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Nothing Is Ever Still – Emma Loftus

The old me is in here somewhere

The relentless pace of modern life takes its toll, and we are sure you will relate to Emma Loftus’s fantastic contribution. Despite being a busy wife and mother, Emma loves painting and gardening. She is also an avid reader with a deep appreciation of literature. We are very thankful that Emma has decided to share her poetry with us and enter the competition.

Nothing is Ever Still

Nothing is ever still
The exhausting whirl of my inner panic stifles and isolates me
The old me is in here somewhere, somewhere
but I don’t miss me.
The important people are still here is that the problem?
some days I can fake it till I make it, some days, some days.
Other days are just other days.

Emma Loftus, Birmingham

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Do You See Me? – Betty Benny and Rachael Pierre

I am just like you and you are just like me

We are very grateful for this thoughtful and powerful submission from Betty Benny and Rachael Pierre. In this fast-paced age of technology and social-media, we can so often be guilty of judging by appearances. Betty and Rachael are based in Sheffield, share a love of poetry and have a magical way with words. Thank you very much for your kind offering to Voices and our competition.

Do You See Me?

Do you see me?
Do you see the real me?
Not the material things around me.
Not the financial status I have.
Just me. Do you see me?

Do you see me?
Do you see the real me?
Not the mask I wear.
Not the clothes I have on.
Do you see me, do you actually see me?

Please don’t judge me from the way I look.
Please don’t judge from the things I have.
I’m just like you and you are just like me,
we are the same.
Money and material status doesn’t make us any different.

We are all vulnerable little children
inside craving for love and affection.
Peace, love, harmony and appreciation.

Betty Benny and Rachael Pierre, Sheffield

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Depression – Maralyn Smith

Help me please, I want my life back

Thankfully more and more people are prepared to speak out about the horrors of depression nowadays, and we hope this excellent submission from Maralyn Smith offers comfort. Maralyn has very kindly provided two submissions to Voices, and this poem will be entered into the competition. Thank you again Maralyn for sharing your eloquent and thoughtful poetry.

Depression

The void. The darkness. How long does it last?

My normal life seems way back in the past.

I cry, I shout and then I scream.
Is my normal life really just a dream?
How do I cope? What do I do?
No one knows what I’m going through.
My family and friends don’t understand why
I shout and scream and then breakdown and cry.
“Take the tablets”, is what they say,
“You’ll feel better tomorrow or the next day”.
Tomorrow comes and I still feel sad,
I’m starting to think that I’m going mad.
I need some help and I need it quick,
I’m starting to panic and I’m feeling sick.
The family’s come home and they need to be fed,
But I just want to go back to my bed.
At my empty life I ponder, then cry,
I feel so alone I just want to die.
Help me please, I want my life back.
How long does it take to get back on track?

The void? The darkness? How long does it last?
Well, it’s taken some years but it’s now in the past.

Maralyn Smith, Coalville, Leicestershire

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Purple Flowers Bloom – Darran Cosgrove

I offer a hand that should be strong

Thank you to Darran Cosgrove for his moving offering to the Voices Poetry Blog and competition. The sight of flowers conjure up a myriad of emotions for us all: loss, romance, grief, happiness, hope… Darran is a student currently residing in Bathgate who ‘enjoys writing whenever he can, mostly on the train or when essays are overdue.’ We are sure you will appreciate his excellent work.

Purple Flowers Bloom

Purple flowers bloom, their sight is succor to our forgotten,

Who’ve aged years before their time, stricken fast by cruel chance.

They battle the body, showing spirit beyond ken.

What drives them I cannot know.

Fear or family, faith?

My own fate is simply to watch. I offer a hand that should be strong,

It shakes with the shame I fear I show.

In their eyes I see resolve, a burning vigor no disease can slow.

They break the grip and stand steady,

They’ll bring me to the garden when I’m ready.

Darran Cosgrove, 21, Bathgate

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Skaters – Max Scratchmann

Your spirit glides like a skater

Skaters

a fictional life of the poet, Charlotte Mew

Sometimes life’s most fleeting moments leave the largest impact. Vivid and haunting – Max Scratchmann’s offering entitled ‘Skaters’ conjures up a variety of potent and mysterious images. Max is based in Edinburgh and is a highly regarded writer, poet and illustrator who also runs the performance group Poetry Circus. Find out more about Max at his website: www.scratchmann.co.uk. Thank you for your kind contribution to ‘Voices’.

Shhhh!
Cobwebs spangled with pearls greet
the approaching dawn.

In a lonely room a television still
bleats and flickers,
While in the night air that is neither
dark nor morning
Your spirit glides like a skater
on the frozen Thames,
Glimpsed in the red glow of
a chestnut vendor’s coals
And then like some fairy thing,
gone. Gone.

Max Scratchmann, Edinburgh

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Cities Are Like Deserts – Tamara Hidal Goisern

the evil remain in the cities or they are dead

What will the world of tomorrow be like? Tamara Hidal Goisern provides very interesting food for thought in ‘Cities are Like Deserts’. Tamara is from Spain and is currently studying English in Edinburgh. She is very passionate about language, literature and poetry. We thank Tamara very much for her vivid and thoughtful contribution to both the competition and the ‘Voices’ poetry blog.

Cities Are Like Deserts

Then, you also have the theme of shopping.
People love shopping. But by internet. Because they live in villages – now everybody lives in villages. There are not many people in the cities. In the news, you can see how everything is turned into ruins. Bus stops, trains, shopping centres… Only the small shops, inns, parks, and some squares and cinemas survive. But there are more and more people on the outskirts every day.

And they also say, there is not enough land for everyone, so we have to come back to the cities. But how do they want us to live there if there is nothing to do anymore? Every day smells worse and worse, and the few people who are still there are crazier and crazier. Old age, stress, suicide, and the ones who leave for the outskirts – cities are like deserts.

Every day grows hotter and hotter, and the communications are failing. There are no more births and no more doctors to attend them.

But here, in the village, is a wonderful life. Even if there are many people, you walk on the paths and all the cows and sheep gather together. Shepherds are not alone anymore, some of them gather together too, and there are lots of women and children who are starting better lives as well. The food each day gets better, the neighbours help each other in the fields, and they exchange the harvest. There are nurseries for kids, the youngest help the eldest and they learn from them, and the eldest, surrounded by youth, feel better.

But everyone is a bit scared of the city. Of course they lived there when they were younger and were forced to go to schools and breathe the toxic air. Here, we have many trees to climb and play in. Much land where animals are free, because the evil remain in the cities or they are dead. Here, for hundreds of years nothing untoward will happen. Okay… yes… small disputes, arguments, some broken marriages, misfortunes – those kind of things – but nothing else…

Tamara Hidal Goisern, Edinburgh

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

When Sleep Descends – Daniel Brady

lose yourself within its charms

We can all relate to this excellent offering from Daniel Brady about the mysterious nature of sleep. Daniel is a passionate writer who loves poetry – and it certainly shows in this elegantly crafted piece. ‘I write for my own benefit, it is a way to communicate for someone who is a little shy like me’ reflects Daniel. Thank you very much for your excellent submission to Voices.

When Sleep Descends

When sleep descends upon your eyes,
and all around the dark conspires,
do not fear what lies in store
when sleep comes tapping at your door,
greet this friend with open arms
and lose yourself within its charms,
race down roads that never bend
and climb up trees that never end,
then rest on clouds that gently glide
and drift above the silent night,
and watch the world go slowly past
for here you are in sleep’s soft grasp.

Daniel Brady, Edinburgh

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.