Monday, 31 December 2012


Image by R. A. D. Stainforth

Candle flickers,
gramophone spins old 45,
                brings you alive,
see you dancing in the shadows. 
Old sweater hugged
smells of you,
fills me up,   arouses
excites atmosphere.

dog-end DNA
remains of you among the ashes. 
I see you 
on the lips of long-emptied glasses,
cold breath whispering 
I was here.

Anna :o]

With thanks to Tess at The Mag for the inspiration, also entered Poets United Poetry Pantry – thanks Poets United!

Oops!  Nearly forgot!  Hope you have a wonderful New Year!

And also - (grand)baby Theo arrived at 1.37am on the 27th!  He is delightful

Saturday, 22 December 2012


Newborn in blanket by Bonnie Gruenberg

Golden, soft, gentle, innocent,
safe in liquid amnii,
in utero.

Listen to my heart beat,
it beats for you,
it longs for you

be my world.

Anna :o]

My special present this year will be that of the gift of a new life – the life of my first grandchild.  Seems he is a bit of a procrastinator – must be an ‘in the genes’ thing – as he is a little late of his due date.  Ah well, he will come into this world when he is ready.

I really can’t wait!  Thank you my lovely first son and dear daughter-in-law for my soon to be present – can’t wait to hug him and kiss his soft warm cheeks and gift him with my love, my heart (forever).  Oh precious little thing – hurry up!

Have a wonderful Christmas everyone!

Thanks to Karin at dVerse~Poets Pub for today’s prompt of 'The Poetics of Presents/ce' and many thanks to all the good folk who hosted there throughout this year.

Image: courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, author Bonnie Gruenberg.

Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Storm Brewing

photo by Andy Magee
Rain streams
in never-ending rivulets,
obscures vision.

The unremitting
rhythmic wurr, 
of wiper blades
irritates, marks time
as you sit behind the wheel
fix-gazed on anything but me.

This is an oft travelled road,
I anticipate the coming storm,
sense the thunder,
wonder what will precipitate
the squall.

I watch the blades
raise the tempo
as they swish to and fro,
aggravate existing fury,
heavens darken, heighten fear
and you begin to glance at me
and I know the time is near -
tis not only skies that will blacken.

Anna :o]

With thanks to Tess at The Mag for the inspiration.  Also entered at Open Link Night at dVerse, hosted by the excellent Joe Hesch.

Friday, 14 December 2012

It's Always You, You, You!

You say my drinking makes you miserable;
that you don’t know what to do when I’mthis way.’ 
Why is it always about you, you, you?  
It doesn’t take much imagination
to figure out why I’m like this – it’s you, you, you!
Does it never cross your stupid mind
that you drive me to such depths of despair
with your moan, moan, moaning,
drinking is my only solace, my only way out? 
You shout and scream I make you unhappy
and you wish things were like they were before,
that this ‘sheer hell’ (moan, moan, moan)
is not you what you (moan) married me for. 
Do you honestly think I care? 
I wish you’d just leave me alone
and go and kill yourself,
cos you’re killing me with your nag, nag, nag.

Oh surprise, surprise! 
Here come the waterworks,
tears spilling from your stupid eyes
as you wail that life is so unfair,
that you can’t live like this anymore. 
Well piss off then you stupid whore. 
But you won’t, will you? 
You always say you’re gonna go -
but you always stay. 
Don’t you know I know why you won’t,
cos no-one else
would have a moaning bag like you? 
No wonder I bloody drink to drown out your
moan, moan, moan. 
Well Mrs Moanybag
I wish you’d just piss off and leave me alone.

Moan, moan, moan, moan, moan.

Anna :o]

Although my work involves caring for alcoholics and ex-alcoholics, I, as many ‘health professionals’ did not understand, did not know of the circumstances of the families of alcoholics as their story is not often told as it is hardly ever considered.

For the most part, families live their lives without any support whatsoever – unless that of Alcoholics Anonymous or similar agencies.

Without Addy’s blog Alcohlic Daze and Linda’s The Immortal Alcoholic – I would still not know.

A long-term alcoholic living with his/her family often blames his/her partner for the problem - unjustly.

This poem was written in response to the challenge to write in the second person at dVerse 'Meeting the Bar' hosted by Victoria C.Slotto.  Thanks Victoria.

Image: courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, author Steven

Monday, 10 December 2012

I Am

I am.

Discover me,
chart me, map me out. 
Climb my mountains,
ford my streams,
swim my seas. 
Love me,
let me live inside your heart. 

I am your world.

Anna :o]

With thanks to Tess at The Mag for the inspiration.   Also linked to the Poetry Pantry at Poets United.