National Relaxation Day

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A poem for cats

Meow, meow, meow.

Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow.

Meow, meow, meow, meow.

Piss on the duvet.

MEOW.

Hiss.

Scratch.

Sit on open laptop.

Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow.

Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow.

Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow.

Poo in the flowerbed.

Lovely review for my book! POENTRY

By Holly Shearer. I’m pretty sure I’m not on my own in the fact that I sometimes enjoy reading the odd poem or two. I’ve even written some in the past. (Not confident enough to try and publish any.) See, I do believe the problem with my poetry is, it’s just too heavy, emotional and […]

via Po Entry Book Review. — The Socialite UK

Deaf-intely time: Deaf Awareness Week

This May it’s Deaf Awareness Week,

And it’s visibility that we seek.

I have a hearing aid in one ear,

On diagnosis I was filled with fear,

But meeting others and making friends,

Has calmed my anxiety and made amends,

For the shock and lonliness I once felt,

From this hearing diagnosis I was dealt.

I love my hearing aid now you see,

There’s no one else I’d rather be,

It’s useful I can’t hear some of the chat,

That pollutes our world but more than that,

I’m learning to lip read and be more aware,

To face others and to bare –

My mouth so others can see,

The words that are spilling out of me.

To be conscious of environments that are too loud,

Avoiding the centre of a crowd,

Speaking clearly but not to patronise,

And I’m becoming wise,

To repeating and never saying “it doesn’t matter”,

Why should anyone miss out on the chatter.

My hearing aid doesn’t mean I don’t understand,

It means I might need a helping hand,

I’m still just as clever and alert as you,

You don’t need to dull down the things you do,

Just smile, say hello and be aware,

And if I show you, you don’t have to stare,

Im still just me with a little extra hearing assistance,

Really I’m just living an X-Men type existence!

Rain

Love heart umbrella, twirling and red,

I’d rather be wrapped up in bed,

Heavy teardrops falling from the sky,

Soaking my jeans as I wander by.

Why does the wind want to turn me inside out,

Someone block up the sky’s water spout!

Wet and cold, my jeans stick to my skin,

Jeans this wet feel like a sin.

A childhood memory of wetting my tights,

Too far from home or sudden frights.

Grown up now but just as wet,

It’s not a dunking, or a Facebook bet,

The weather is against me, I’ll never win,

Dripping and struggling along with my kin.

At work the hand-dryer angles down,

A warm rush of air to smooth my frown.

Warm and sheltered now and almost dry,

How could I not be miserable when the sky decides to cry.

Eat, eat, eat

I’ve just eaten my weight in food,

That’s not possible but I’m in that mood,

A foodie treat is just the thing,

Some chorizo or a chicken wing.

Food is for fuel scientists say,

Food is also tastey, wahey!

Michelin star or gourmet,

Ice-cream whilst you watch a play!

Food cheers me up when I feel down inside,

But food is not the place to hide.

It’s yummy and it gives us what we need,

I can’t live off quinoa or some seed.

It’s finding a balance with what we eat,

Veg and fibre as well as meat.

One more chip though and I’ll be done,

Oh no, it’s happened again, food has won!