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Showing posts with label MIND. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MIND. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Broken



Broken
By pete marshall

Homes that are silent apart from a tick
the creak of the pipes and the hum of a fridge
the hub of a kitchen now cordoned with tape
a house that lays dormant alone and awake

A path that lies beaten , a broken front door
the smell of the damp and the chill of the floor
and breath that sits heavy upon a cold face
the coals in the shed and the ash in the grate

The rooms that are empty and a bed that is cold
the sheets that are soiled and the truths that are told
and skies that are angry from tempers that flare
the shouts in the house from the souls that lay bare

The stains on the walls are the strains of a fight
the sound of the heart that beats through the night
and the hub of a kitchen now cordoned with tape
a house that lays dormant alone and awake 

**********


Originally published at One Stop Poetry 4th September 2010

image courtesy commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/bored-now/ 

Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Touched: A poem by pete marshall


Touched
by pete marshall

Touched by a walk through the bustling streets
lights that shine bright on the joys that we seek
laughter rings loud from the young & naive
yet darkness draws near on a cold Winters Eve

Touched by the wealth of those who walk free
unshackled by debt and goodwill to all thee
credit secured that brings forth some reprieve
yet darkness draws near on a cold Winters Eve

Touched by the brush of two lovers who speak
embracing in shadows in bars where they meet
dreams laced with passion as partners deceive
yet darkness draws near on a cold Winters Eve

Touched by the warmth of food that came forth
by fires that kindled and glowed in the hearth
of songs of our Lord and gifts we receive
yet darkness came home on a cold Christmas Eve

*************

This year has had more downs than ups, and some of you know what the last few weeks have brought to the Marshall house, and, as optimistic as I try to remain, Saturday I went to town and just came straight back home!!!

Its hard being cheery all the time and at Christmas this is emphasized more. I felt low but so do so many others and whilst I had my reasons I was able to come home, talk to my wife, embrace my children and was back on track again, but for so many others this is not possible and with that in mind I dedicate this poem to those souls that are lost & lonely.

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Today I also share this poem with dverse, especially my old friends from One Stop Poetry days, brian miller, claudia schonfeld, gay reiser-cannon who along with my brother, adam dustus and a very special friend in shan ellis, a collection of poetry, In The Presence of Poets, has been released.  For details of this publication please click on the following link


In The Presence of Poets

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Tuesday, 23 November 2010

Self.......A poem by Pete Marshall


Self.....
by Pete Marshall

She felt the chill of yesteryear
that touched her skin and scratched the spine
and blew through hope and distant tears
and curdled screams within her mind. 

She hung across a kitchen sink
with wrist that limped upon the bowl
A knife in hand that grazed her skin
in cries of help for none to know.

As waters steamed to scalding hot
the blood would swirl and run to clear
her tears would fall beyond her cheeks
in cries of help for none to hear.

She washed her hands and gently rinsed
the blood that stained her calloused skin
that bore the scars of OCD
and life that pained her thoughts within.


***************

Reading through the poems of last weeks One Shot Wednesday one poem touched on me personally. It was by chance that Shewriting, AKA Sheila Moore, was spotlighted also at One Stop Poetry by Dustus a couple of days later. It was her poem She Writes LOVE on her arm that i am reffering. 

The poem stood out as it touched on a subject that hit a nerve, it wasnt about me but someone I know and am very close too. Her poem left me thinking about this person and that is why I have written my piece today.

Sheila wrote her poem in support of a charity, To Write Love on her Arms, which is a non-profit organisation whose mission is to present hope and find help for those struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide.

Although I am a UK poet, I completely agree and support this cause. In the UK I have also used my work and my position with One Stop Poetry to support various similar causes.

Recently I did a spotlight on UK award winning poet Mat Lloyd and his poem, Blokes which was in support of the UK Charity C.A.L.M which does so much work to try and reduce suicide amongst young men within the UK.

A previous poem that I had written, Broken, was also in support of M.I.N.D, which is a UK Charity for better mental health.

Mental Health is an issue that still is treated sceptically by so many and yet throughout the World so many people are struggling to come to terms with their problems, when at times, all they need is somewhere to turn, some help to prevent them from suffering or, even worse, finishing their own lives. The Internet often gets bad press for the things that can be viewed and seen and how it can be used for bad things BUT the Internet is also a very powerful tool for helping unite people, throughout the World, and offer them hope... Together we can raise awareness on these issues and spread the word of so many good causes.

I have shared this poem with One Shot Wednesday, part of One Stop Poetry, which opens every Tuesday at 10pm UK time, 5pm Eastern Time, and remains open all day Wednesday. One Shot Wednesday is a platform where you can share your work, promote yourself, meet other poets and, generally, enjoy poetry

Tuesday, 5 October 2010

Home: A Poem by Pete Marshall


Home
a poem by Pete Marshall

The door is shut to all who knock
and force themselves upon my porch
for home is where my heart lies deep
where wars are planned and battles fought.
and home is where I take my mind
that hides beneath the flowing robes
but home is where I left my soul
within a room no longer known.

Upon the stairs I hear the cries 
of manic laughs and wicked lies
for home to these is where they play
as thoughts destroy each greying day

And home is where I hear the shouts
of words that fight to pacify
for home is where I lay in wait
and tend the blooms of life’s few highs.
but blooms and weeds remain the same
as both will wilt before they die
for home is where we learn to rest
within the heart of ones desire.

***************

This Thurday, October 7th, is the Uk's National Poetry Day, (@poetrydayUK), to celebrate this day the theme "home" has been chosen. What does "home"  mean to you - the building you live in, the place you came from, or a taste of home cooking?

Home to me is my M.I.N.D, a place that yearns for peace, a place that I wish could live in harmony with me. On Sunday, 10th October, it is World Mental Health Day, whose theme is "Urbanisation & Health", I therefore have written this poem to help unite both causes.

If you would like more information on any of the above please visit the following

M.I.N.D. - For better mental health http://www.mind.org.uk/


World Federation for Mental Health http://www.wfmh.org/00WorldMentalHealthDay.htm

Uk National Poetry Day http://www.nationalpoetryday.co.uk/

@poetrydayUK on Twitter

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This poem is also for One Shot Wednesday, a great platform for poets from all over the world to unite, promote and explore poetry of all genres. Opens tonight 10pm UK time and all day Wednesday, write a poem and share!

image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/nickchino/