James Blunt , Stand Up to Cancer.

James has said it all so let’s kick Cancers Arse!

Throwback Thursday #7 School Daze.

Throwback Thursday Memory Blog

Caution this is not a fun blog post but it’s a true one from my heart.

Maggie is our hostess this week as she alternates with Lauren for the Throwback Thursday/ I Remember When series. 
This week’s prompt is: School Memories – Take this prompt wherever it leads you. Here are some suggestions to consider.

Who was your favorite teacher? What about your worst? Were you a member of any clubs? Did you attend homecoming or the prom? What was your favorite subject? Were you the perfect student or a troublemaker? What clothes were in style when you were in school? How did you get to school? Bus, walk, drive? Any extracurricular activities? What did you do for lunch? Did you attend football games or other sports? Did you attend school when corporal punishment was applied? Have a school photo you wish to share?

I wrote this poem on abuse at school by piers and teachers, in 2012. It  is personal and I am not afraid to say so. My school days were among the worst days of my life. I was lucky in a way as there was no internet in my day, once I was home I was more or less safe.

It can be even worse these days as there is now cyber bullying so the poor victim cannot get away from it unless they cut themselves off completely from the modern appliances. In fact some people are Tolled after their death and so it is their family that carry on receiving the bullying.

It is abuse it should be stopped but the schools do not seem to be able to stop it !

It’s nothing less than abuse.

Rounded shoulders head hung down

Rounded shoulders head hung down why do they all make fun of me I am not a clown. Sitting in the row spiteful girls stick their pens in my legs. Teacher at the front she must never know, she wouldn’t help she treats me like dregs.

Photo by RODNAE Productions on Pexels.com

Following me nearly home, calling me mean names,in the playground I always stand alone they don’t pick me for their games. Opening my desk finding it’s been trashed , my text book been drawn in and my favourite doll has been  smashed.

Mum tried her hardest but being the youngest of six my things did not get replaced they just got fixed. My plimsolls were the wrong colour they were black instead of white , I was hauled up on the stage, lectured in front of the school then had to stay on late that night. I just could not make it I could not win with staff and girls against me all I could do was just give in.

I met my boyfriend, and his friends did not like me because I spoke differently, I was from the posh school.  They though I was rich, I was not I was just like them it would of made no  difference if I’d let them know. When we  were out or at a party they were pleasant to my face but if my guy was not there and behind my back the things they said were just a disgrace. They joined the line of teachers and my piers it makes me wonder now how I stood it for all those years.

I am not saying I no friends, no that would not be true. I did have friends and they were good   but they were the very few. I always felt so ugly, too fat and too short and if anyone was nice to me I could not believe it. What do they want was my first thought.

Things got better when I started work I seemed to come out of my shell like a little butterfly I changed and put aside my days of living hell. They tell you, you don’t  realize that school days are the best days of your life , thank God I never listened or I would of ended mine with a knife.

Thank God I grew away from all the pain  but sometimes I see a face  hear a voice or a name and it all floods back again. I am older now and have all that I could ask for, family and friends but sometimes my calm deserts me and confidence takes flight,  fear and dark descends and I feel lost in the night. I ask the question now why children’s jibes and actions  can be so mean and cruel. The worse days of my life were my years at school. I cry each time I read or hear on the news how children can hurt each other IT NOTHING LESS THAN ABUSE.

One liner Wednesday On Thursday. Ingratitude.

Dropped hubby off at train station this morning and asked him. “Do you want me to pick you up this evening?”

“No I’ll walk he replied”

“You don’t like my driving?” I asked.

“No I don’t he replied”

This is part of LindaGHill’s One-Liner Wednesday.

Stream of Consciousness Saturday.

Badge by Shelley Krupa.

It is Saturday and time for LindaGHill’s weekly prompt.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “where.” Use it any way you’d like!

It’s twenty years today since 9/11, we can’t forget today or this week because the media will not let us. Sadly there have been so many incidents before and since, it never stops. There are people all over the world living with war and terrorism every day. We must never forget any of this and all that went on before 9/11 because if we do there is no hope. No we must not forget but we can’t stop there we must change, we must change.

Where.
Where in the world is there peace.
Where in the world do the oppressed get relief.
Where in the world is there no evil
Where do harsh words and deeds not spill
From the mouths of leaders who’s talk is cheap
They set the rules while others reap
Children die and parents weep.
Yet we have the answers in our reach
The wherewithal is here use it I beseech.

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 72: (CROOK) in the A rhyme line.

THIS IS PART OF RONOVANWRITE’S WEEKLY HAIKU CHALLENGE.

Photo by Serena Koi on Pexels.com

He is such a bully , that chuck
Thinks he’s the boss, keeps pushing us.
Why does he always make such fuss.
He’s afraid of the two leg’s crook.
Disobedience he’ll not brook.
The shepherd’s rules he’ll never buck.
Then he pushes us and his luck
We pretend to do his bidding
Keeping our true feelings hidden.
Then shepherds dog gives us less truck.

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 67: (LEAP) in the D rhyme line.

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This is part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Décima Challenge.

I have linked it to my Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge.

Word on the street is change the rules.
Masks not needed,but wear your mask.
Get it wrong we’ll take you to task.
Infection, running rife in schools.
We’re fed dross from the mouths of fools.
Ping , now you have to stay off work.
Says the bloke in Peerage by Burke.
We’ve lost our paddle up the creek.
Now,’s not the time in faith to leap.
Why are we trusting such a jerk?

I am dismayed at the state of our country at the moment, our leaders are rudderless.

One-Liner Wednesday. Hanging on the telephone.

After ringing and quequing to make an appointment ( for a telephone consultation, it’s like getting hen’s teeth to get an actual appointment) the One-Liner ” please hold your call is important to us, we will be with you as soon as a receptionist is free” repeated every sixty seconds really does not ring true.

It took one hour and fifteen minutes on two phones to get through!

Part of LindaGHill’s One-Liner Wednesday.

#writephoto : Treeman.

This week’s prompt is a post with a difference – our JUNE guest photo!

For visually challenged writers, the image a tree that has partly been carved to represent a man (or an ape I’m undecided).

Tree Man – Image by Willowdot21.

Gaia had given up on mankind, they were so uncaring of this beautiful planet. Their waste and inventions clogged up her seas, oceans and rivers. They drilled, mined and fracked for all her bounty. They waged war, they plundered the spoilt!

Sitting on the edge of the woods surrounded by paper cups, used condoms, plastic bottles and polestyrine cartons Gaia spoke with Death who was looking wan and very thin.

“I just don’t know what to do really I am at my wit’s ends,” she exclaimed a tear in her eye. Death smiled, a scary sight all teeth! “Don’t worry he said I have one last thing up my sleeve.”

Sighing Gaia replied “Well the four horsemen are already here, War, plague ( he played a blinder) famine, and yourself you have all worked so hard.”

“Indeed we have been working overtime, and yet those uncaring humans still carry on their selfish ways. I have called in the big guns, my last resort. “

Gaia, inhailed loudly “Surely you cannot mean….”

“Yes indeed I am going to bring on the Ents…they will soon put pay to mankind and then they can gently and kindly restore you to your former health.”

Just then the first of the Giant Ents arrived looking tired and somewhat irritable!

This is part of K L Caley #writephoto

KL Caley at Novel Ideas has offered to take on Sue Vincent’s #writephoto weekly challenge now Sue has moved on to a higher plain.

April 22: Flash Fiction Challenge

April 22, 2021, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about earthing. Put a character’s hands, feet or body and soul into the earth. Who needs recharging? What happens between the interaction? Go where the prompt leads!

For this prompt I have imagined a letter from Mother Nature/ Earth/ Gaia to us all. This is part of the Carrot Ranch Challenge.

My Children

I tried to warn you, painted warnings on walls and billboards with letters 20ft tall screamed, shouted and made a fuss.No one listens at all.The blooms are out in winter and summer flowers peek in spring. Snow falls in summer and sometimes in spring.You’re heading for another drought your reservoirs  almost dry yet you let precious water waste. It’s starting with the the smaller things but soon you will suffer too. This green planet that you call home is dieing. I’m so tired and you just ignore my warning.  From a dieing Mother nature.

Life to Match.

image from here

Life is like a match. It bursts into being, full of promise and light. It grows then at it fullest and brightest it dies, returning us to the dark..

Birth is painful it is bloody, it is spectacular, it is after conception, the start for everybody. Pushed from the darkness into the light screaming and kicking you get handled by gloved hands under bright light.

Then like the flame as it takes hold the young brain sucking in knowledge. Like the match it needs oxygen as much as it can hold.

You see the blue and yellow of the flame grow in strength as it follows its aim. As we grow, we learn and we store the lessons that will form us more and more. Reaching out to light the world  doing all we can to live the life you know is right.

dicarded and forgotten

Like the match we reach our zenith gold and blue with smoky edges but only for seconds does that last. How soon our very best is past. Try as we may to keep the light, like the match are loosing it fast. So tailing down to nought but heat like the match we are thrown on the scrap heap. At best we end up all alone or, I shudder at the choice , in an old people’s home.

Sad as I am to be alone, don’t throw me in an old peoples home. I once had so much to share I am still in here please have a care.