Spider spider in the night
Understand you’ll cause a fright
If you dare to reappear
When you’ve been thrown out of here
And don’t return or bring your friends
Or we’ll have to apprehend
You and yours with Dyson hose
To suck up all those legs and toes
So spider spider in the night
Stay away and out of sight!
A lone shadow dances in the light of the moon
Apparition of darkness sways forth and in tune
As a mask in the umbra in obscurity
Infiltrates deepest dreams and haunts you consciously
With suggestion of heinous intent and much more
On the minds of its victim who is rattled for sure
Yet when sun rises slowly and burns into day
The figure; illusion drifts out of the way
Concealed by the light of the morrow for now
Camouflaged for the present yet still there to devour
It’s prey; your worst nightmare; your fears and your frights
As the shadow returns to dance through every night
For years she’d tucked him right away
Behind closed doors; it is true
And covered him in dusty coats
Of smoking China blue
Locked well away and quite concealed
To not see light of day
She panicked what he might reveal
What others might well say
She buried him and lived a lie
‘Neath life’s baggage and more
Where none could reach him; none would see
Behind the locked tight door
And left in hope he’d disappear
He rotted where he stood
Lest the odd prod of consciousness
Or rattle on the wood
For though she wished with all her heart
He’d go and she’d forget
She feared he’d talk, for he was her
Skeleton in closet
When the candle starts to flicker
When light grows ever dim
When change is all about you
Or darkness drawers right in
Consider how a seed grows
From remnants of the past
Contracted embers blown at will
That then renews and casts
Forth new life so abundantly
With the resources to
Handle and manage growth again
And do what they must do
And so when worried; overwhelmed
Know things will be all right
Because sometimes it’s in darkness
That we then see the light
There’s a rustle down the garden
Beneath the fallen tree
A movement that is tantamount
To scare the socks off me
A thought that someone’s watching
From yonder gate near stones
A prick of conscious angst perhaps
That chills the blood and bones
Perception or a bad omen
In shadow of the moon
A person lurking, waiting to
Strike out; to hit real soon
A feeling that they’re watching
Just biding time until
They move when least expected
In stealth to make the kill
Whence then a shriek will pierce the air
And freeze you to the spot
The fright; the dread; the hopelessness
Where sweat beads cold not hot
And yet in truth there’s nothing
Less rampant fears in sight
The ramblings of a fractious mind
That spooks you out at night
Beyond fear lies a meadow
A grassy open plain
A space of possibility
Of sunshine less the rain
A world of opportunity
A vision to behold
Where Phoenix soars in skies above
To bid each one be bold
English: Buttercup meadow A wonderful Maytime sight on a sunny day! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Another look at the stigma of mental health leading up to World Mental Health Day on 10 October and the reality that we are still locking the mentally ill away – then behind closed doors; now with labels and the stigma that prevails. Time for change
Once lives locked behind bars
Constrained by irons and jacket
Restricted by fear and doctrine
Stereotyped as mad
Alienated by society
Yet now as wards lies desolate
Lives are still shackled
And men grapple in clichéd fear
Petrified by the diversity of mind
Assigning labels in the place of bars
![Vincent van Gogh [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons](https://ginzandtonic.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/512px-vincent_willem_van_gogh_002.jpg)
Vincent van Gogh [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
They sat there in assembly
All lined up neat in rows
Pressed in new blazers; some quite big
That hung down near their toes
With shirt sleeves rather massively
Extending past their arms
And trousers rolled up in great folds
Heart’s pacing; feint alarms
The new kids all awaiting for
The head to come and speak
The first day at their brand new school
Yet weather rather bleak
For in the hall an eeriness
A grey mist hung in air
No word; no sound; no squeak nor squeal
Just something strange right there
Then he appeared; through curtain’s veil
To take up centre stage
In robes of academia
A man of some great age
And started to address them
In tongues they did not hear
Peculiar! Yet in all truth
Most were just bored to tears
Some even dared to drift off in
A stupor; some did snore
And Jo Bloggs twice fell off his chair
And landed on the floor
But even he did not expect;
Pre-empt what then he heard
A flash; a bang; a mighty crash
And then a throng of words
Like voices in a football crowd
All flying overhead
A mass of noise; commotion and
A sense of creepy dread
From where they came; he did not know
But like mammalian
The headmaster revealed himself
A Martian Alien
“Right Now!” he said
“You listen up” he spelt in words so clear
“You lads are at my school from now”
“The start of the school year”
And you will do as I will bid
In line with Martian Law
Enlist; behave and follow me
Or feel my wrath and more”
He bellowed on and on and on
Jo Bloggs, now wide awake
Felt damp to say the very least
And in his boots did quake
What place was this? Where had he come?
Why could he not escape
Yet rooted to the spot he just
Stood still to gawp and gape!
He couldn’t move; he couldn’t think
Entrenched by freaked out fear
So much for his Mum’s pet talk that
Said “you’ll be ok, my dear”
“Oh, no!” he sighed “What should I do?”
“Dash out or stay right put?”
But still be found he was stuck still
And couldn’t budge his foot!
He wriggled and he squirmed around
He wracked this brain and mind
Contorting body, arms and limbs
To twist and skew – unwind
But then the spotlight found him
It pinned him to the post
Illuminating everything
Those things he dreaded most
It showed the inner thoughts he had
The things he’d hidden from
The worries that he’d just not faced
Left pounding like a drum
The things he was concerned about
Anxieties and fears
But now in alien spotlight
He had other ideas
For how he wished he’d talked them out
Prepared well in advance
Thought all about the things he’d done
To give himself a chance
“Help! Help!” He screamed! “Help!” said a voice
A voice from deep within
And slowly all the noise did cease
Where silence calmed; not din!
Not din nor word, for hush had come
The light and glare was gone
And Jo Bloggs realised that this had been
A nightmare all along
And from that day, that little chap
Took heed of thoughts in head
Lest they might come and spook him out
When he was in his bed!
Postscript: I wrote this thinking about how we deal with change and how anxieties can creep in when we don’t face them. Fronting up to those fears, facing our mountains seems to me to be the best way to help them crumble. This poem is written in the context of a young boy facing the transition to big school. It’s a time when children have to face up to big change in their life – for some maybe the first big change they’ve had to do on their own. Helping them talk about their fears, face up to their worries and prepare them for that transition helps them make the move a whole lot easier. Isn’t that true for all of us? You know what they say it’s all the preparation. So I hope we will all have the courage to face our aliens before they face us. Every best wish.
Control! That thing that makes us feel
Empowered and then in charge
That lets us feel so safe; secure
To then steer lifespan’s barge
The essence of a well-planned path
The way we want to go
The rhythm and the rhyme we think
That keeps us in the flow
The means to level saliencies
To keep all in a line
In tow with how we’d like our life
To wander and be fine
But likewise it can easily
Destroy! Manipulate
Usurp relationships and cause
Disruption and much hate
For overbear and hold the reins
On other’s destiny
And there will be a price to pay
That control can’t oversee
The negative of what is right
The windward side of slope
The scree of broken lives that are
Devoid of love and hope
The fear of what might thus prevail
When flexibility
Replaces rigid, firmer soil
With freedom’s territory
So be the master of your soul
The author of your mind
And have the courage to let each
Do as they are inclined
Control key on an Apple wireless keyboard (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
What cloak will you encapsulate?
What feeling, be your guise?
Will it be one of fear or sadness,
Anger, joy or pure surprise?
Will anticipation be your mantle
Or perhaps disdain, disgust?
Or will your emotive boat sail
On the open seas of trust?
For emotions are the driving force
Behind experiences each day
Insurgents that control our hearts
Our heads and minds and way
Ginz&Tonic 