CASUALTIES OF WAR
So you think you can walk in my shoes
Do what I do Weather what I have gone through Experience the ups and downs The joys and the sorrow The heartaches and the loss The unfairness and the pain Well think again … |
I would not wish on anyone
The life I was made to endure Then face the prejudices and discrimination Dished out by this nation To one that just wanted to be accepted To fit in To be somewhere safe To escape the ravages of war But what for To be persecuted just the same Well think again … |
I am not here because of greed
There was real need to survive To keep my loved ones alive Not just come here To take and give nothing in return I pray you will never have to learn first-hand The horrors I have seen Or tread those paths of misery and shame If you still think you can walk in my shoes Think again. |
Published in Hope for Ukraine: A special collection of art, poetry, short stories and more (Available from Amazon - click here)
Worthiness
You are who you are You are filled with self-doubt You are frightened You are vulnerable And I know you would be missed Because … You are beautiful You are good You are special You are my light And I love the way you make me shine |
Writing as Therapy … Family Occasions
I don’t do funerals, I simply don’t go. Let me rephrase that … I do go but only if it is important to the living that I am there. To offer support, to show solidarity or just to be the comfort and help they need. A lot feel it’s a duty to attend, even when there has been no contact for years, or it is someone they barely knew. Victims of an indoctrination to consider it a show of disrespect if they do not attend.
Weddings, christenings, and funerals were said to be the big three occasions destined to bring out the best and worst in humanity. These days there are fewer baptism ceremonies and the format of weddings has evolved, but the one thing that is guaranteed for all of us is death.
Funerals are a day for the living. A day of mixed emotions. A day of mourning, for some, of anger for others and of loss, often for far more than just the passing of the one being buried. It is a time when it is expected that, regardless of what has gone on in the past, people will attend as a mark of respect for the departed. A chance for rifts to be mended, but also for deep rooted differences and conflicts to deepen. Extended family members that have made no contact, even when others have gone out of their way to try and maintain a connection, or the dispute between siblings that is stubbornly upheld regardless of the circumstances, or a dislike of relations can all become exaggerated and grate on the atmosphere of a day that is already fraught with sorrow.
Tensions run high. No-one seems to understand what others have been going through. Each caught in their own distress have no concern for the suffering that others have been experiencing. To some their world, their worries, their hardships dominate their lives and they consider that whatever others are going through could not possibly be as bad. These issues can all be volatile. The funeral can then end up as all about the show, the show of love, the show of devotion, the floral tributes, who is in the right and who shows that they care more.
The dead, by this time are not bothered if anyone even turns-up, regardless of the grandeur of the occasion. People will be remembered for the person they were and not by the way they were dispatched.
I do respect the passing of a life but refuse to take part in a ritual performed simply for appearance.
I can’t trust me to keep my mouth shut and play the game … so, that is why I don’t do funerals.
I don’t do funerals, I simply don’t go. Let me rephrase that … I do go but only if it is important to the living that I am there. To offer support, to show solidarity or just to be the comfort and help they need. A lot feel it’s a duty to attend, even when there has been no contact for years, or it is someone they barely knew. Victims of an indoctrination to consider it a show of disrespect if they do not attend.
Weddings, christenings, and funerals were said to be the big three occasions destined to bring out the best and worst in humanity. These days there are fewer baptism ceremonies and the format of weddings has evolved, but the one thing that is guaranteed for all of us is death.
Funerals are a day for the living. A day of mixed emotions. A day of mourning, for some, of anger for others and of loss, often for far more than just the passing of the one being buried. It is a time when it is expected that, regardless of what has gone on in the past, people will attend as a mark of respect for the departed. A chance for rifts to be mended, but also for deep rooted differences and conflicts to deepen. Extended family members that have made no contact, even when others have gone out of their way to try and maintain a connection, or the dispute between siblings that is stubbornly upheld regardless of the circumstances, or a dislike of relations can all become exaggerated and grate on the atmosphere of a day that is already fraught with sorrow.
Tensions run high. No-one seems to understand what others have been going through. Each caught in their own distress have no concern for the suffering that others have been experiencing. To some their world, their worries, their hardships dominate their lives and they consider that whatever others are going through could not possibly be as bad. These issues can all be volatile. The funeral can then end up as all about the show, the show of love, the show of devotion, the floral tributes, who is in the right and who shows that they care more.
The dead, by this time are not bothered if anyone even turns-up, regardless of the grandeur of the occasion. People will be remembered for the person they were and not by the way they were dispatched.
I do respect the passing of a life but refuse to take part in a ritual performed simply for appearance.
I can’t trust me to keep my mouth shut and play the game … so, that is why I don’t do funerals.
Light & Darkness (Forward Poetry publication)
The man in the moon reflects upon his years Age has not been a good ally Once he was a young boy carrying a hope filled balloon Walking the tightrope between reality and dreams One hand on the heavens Whilst his midnight feline kept her paws firmly in the depths of hell Sunshine illuminated the world of mere mortals and Gods alike Carefree, hazy hours, never ending Timeless balmy nights ... an indefinite deception Luna shadows thrown within the darkness An ice-blue cold existence, forever holding firm As the universe slumbers All Washed Up Exhibition (Harbour Arts Centre, Irvine)
A Baby Seal A mound of something grey Help on the tide line The ebb and flow of the waves allude to the impression of life One flipper paddling desperately at the sand A half-hearted bid for freedom, but nothing remains No evidence of foul play No evidence of natural causes No heroic battle scars This magnificent little creature just is no more The smooth plump grey skin now speckled with dried salt Lingers in the sunlight to once again be reclaimed by the sea |
Pet Memorial Book (published by South West Writers)
End of Days ... I fostered your dog today ... I just wanted you to know It’s safe with me, now that you had to let go Life is hard with difficult decisions to make But it was the right thing to do, for theirs, and your sake Quality of life is always top of the list I feel your pain and know they’ll be missed They’ll always be yours, I won’t change their name And rest assured they’ll be loved just the same I will send you photos and tell you the things that we do And we’ll make it a point to come visit with you No one can tell if our health will get frail You thought they’d go first, you never planned to fail Many years ago, you envisaged the ways They’d be by your side, to the end of their days Now don’t beat yourself up as they’ll have a good life Protected and spoiled with no stresses or strife They’ll stay right here until the grim reaper beckons And I’ll hold them tight to the very last second Then at Rainbow Bridge they’ll wait just for you And in time, together you’ll pass on through It takes a good person to care for a soul But time is just borrowed ... we never really, have any control |
30 Days Wild The Wildlife Trust The Wildlife Trust's month-long nature campaign challenges you to do one wild thing every day throughout June (or for 30 days). That's 30 simple, fun and exciting Random Acts of Wildness connected with nature around the country. |
Pay it Forward Day
Everyone can join in with this ... just do something nice for three people without expecting anything in return. Click HERE to find out more "Random acts of Kindness and 'Pay it Forward' Fun!
To end this month in a lovely way to see what can be done To partake in something epic, nothing huge I must agree But it’s not knowing what would come your way, that has made it key So here it is, they’re not the best, but written just for you I really hope you like them and it cheers you if you’re blue A fabulous task to undertake, I hope you don’t feel cheated So, from me to you and posted with love ... my ‘Pay it Forward’ task completed." ... Lee x |
Friendships
(Especially for Margaret Muir & Patricia Watson) Once there were the friends that walked beside your life Always by your side through your troubles and your strife The ones that held your hand, that wiped away your tears And kept you safe within their heart throughout so many years There were also ones, that dipped into your life awhile The people that came with fads and trend that fitted your lifestyle As your interests changed, you’d all moved on to things anew Never falling out, but losing touch as so many do Now we have the airwaves that span across the net Connecting us with friends, most of whom we’ve never met Instant pen pals for a modern age, all just a click away They are all equally important, as friends help you make it through each day |
My Kind (of) America (for Christa Gremmels)
Technically, I don’t qualify to write about this. I don’t live in America, I have never set a foot in the good old United States, and within my lifetime plan (as it stands right at this moment) … I have no intentions of ever changing any of that.
I live, give-or-take a bit over 4,000 miles away, as the eagle flies, and it would take me on average about seven or eight hours to hop if flying direct from London to New York. There are approximately sixty-five million living here in the UK, compared to the three hundred and twenty-five million over there, but out of all those people you have living across the pond, there is one that connects me. She is not family, not a distant relation and we have never met, but that makes no difference and neither does the distance.
We connected several years ago, on a social media site, through an online dice game. You know the score, a random player is automatically selected, and the object of the game is to get more points and beat the pants off them. It is usually impersonal, but not this time. We started to chat and ended up doing more chatting than gaming. We added each other as friends and have remained that way ever since.
We are pen-pals in a digital age, with the added advantage of everything being so instant. We share stories, worries, are there for each other when life is not going so well, jump about at the highs, laugh and cry with, and for one another. We both suffer from insomnia, so the time difference is of no consequence, while friends within our own country slumber, we can be found keeping each other company.
So, you see contrary to popular belief size really doesn’t matter. The size of the USA compared to the size of the UK doesn’t matter. The size of the distance between us, doesn’t matter. The size of the time it would take to get to each other, doesn’t matter.
What does matter is that to be there for each other takes no more than one click on a keypad.
Technically, I don’t qualify to write about this. I don’t live in America, I have never set a foot in the good old United States, and within my lifetime plan (as it stands right at this moment) … I have no intentions of ever changing any of that.
I live, give-or-take a bit over 4,000 miles away, as the eagle flies, and it would take me on average about seven or eight hours to hop if flying direct from London to New York. There are approximately sixty-five million living here in the UK, compared to the three hundred and twenty-five million over there, but out of all those people you have living across the pond, there is one that connects me. She is not family, not a distant relation and we have never met, but that makes no difference and neither does the distance.
We connected several years ago, on a social media site, through an online dice game. You know the score, a random player is automatically selected, and the object of the game is to get more points and beat the pants off them. It is usually impersonal, but not this time. We started to chat and ended up doing more chatting than gaming. We added each other as friends and have remained that way ever since.
We are pen-pals in a digital age, with the added advantage of everything being so instant. We share stories, worries, are there for each other when life is not going so well, jump about at the highs, laugh and cry with, and for one another. We both suffer from insomnia, so the time difference is of no consequence, while friends within our own country slumber, we can be found keeping each other company.
So, you see contrary to popular belief size really doesn’t matter. The size of the USA compared to the size of the UK doesn’t matter. The size of the distance between us, doesn’t matter. The size of the time it would take to get to each other, doesn’t matter.
What does matter is that to be there for each other takes no more than one click on a keypad.
Copyright © 2013 Lee Montgomery-Hughes (All rights reserved)