All The Same To Us

Hold out your hand, catch the falling
The same as the woman who tries
There's a world where its loved hues are spoiling
To severed heads and lullabies.


Stick out your tongue and catch colours
Tasting of relish and shame
Where the lonely and lost duly mothers
Black and white souls drawn into the game


Tilt up your chin and catch heat rays
Eyes closing to block out the fear
Colours afraid to take presence
Returning to you every year


Open your arms and catch rainbows
Controlling the elements so
Sparks snagging the clothing of Venus
A paler shade from which you know


Hold out you hand, catch the catcher
For she's fallen from one mighty rush
Slipped through the fingers you held out
In a paintbox so near to that brush

Granny Mackie

(based on a true person, but it actually was her grandkids that left a note with some marbles and a copy of a 1985 magazine!)

I loved my house when I first saw it
The merriest one since my youth
An old council relic with ceilings much too high
And walls that encaptured the truth

An aura of colour zoomed quickly
I remember my son saying so
That he saw yellow ribbons being chased by some blue ones
And land where the lush lawn did grow.

My door never stopped being opened
More children than I'd cared to count
My back garden filled with a choir of young manics
Whose actions were hard to surmount

As we grew,  we all took on new features.
Me with an expanding waist.
My two boys grew stubble, my daughter more beauty
And their father more lines on his face.

But the laughter continued to echo
Through the troubles and turmoils ahead.
More music a blasting and lasting a lifetime
Healing our hearts if they bled.

Over time I heard that Mrs.Mackie
Predecessor to our little place
Was the neighbourhood Florence, a helper relentless
An angel in tartan and lace

So when fixing some floorboards in our room
We were stunned to find what was beneath.
A beautiful face in a picture frame, beaded
To we strangers, a trusted bequeath

A discoloured note, tinged with sepia
From old 'Grannie Mackie' as signed
Asking us to take good care of her old house
For she left love and contentment behind

We've done that, in the simplest of manners
(Though there's some things she 'don't wanna' know!)
In our cluttersome dwelling, with more laughter than teardrops
It's more cherished than she'll ever know.
     ***********************************************
So, what's Here then...?  

Safely Home

To be wrapped in love was all I ever wanted,
a place where I'd fit and belong
Cosied up safe and warm from those that once taunted,
where I'd be the soul of the song

No-one else, yes, just I with echoing vibrance,
within walls that can't penetrate sound
Needn't worry about the first or the last dance,
for only I am all around.

I just enter and exit from the spot where it's creaking,
no finery hung on the walls
An oubliette, (though quite gracious) in a manner of speaking,
straight home with no carpeting halls.

Oh, I'd so love to live in a place or a bubble,
the resident being only I
Where I don't have to simulate happy, contentment,
where I'm able to cry and to cry

All I wanted was some-one confirming that I, 
with no delusions of grandeur intent.....
Was worth the air that I breathe, the space when I sigh,
a chance to make her suppliment

But I'm safe on my own, make no judgements, no mistakes,
while I'm tucked away neat in a shell
At least then I know - when it's time for life's hard aches,
it's just me that the boot of life quells

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Quick Birthdays and Long Goodbyes.......

My brother Rab's 60th birthday bash arrangements for tomorrow are well under way.  It is to be a themed do covering 60's, 70's, 80's eras but with music from Casino and No Need For Idols  as well. So be there, hippies, punks, metal, new romantics, glitter rock, Beatle fringes, skin 'eads, mohawk, mullet, feather cuts, afro joe types in abundance.  No one has told Rab (nee Robert Snr) what their get-up will be, hence some maniac surprise outfits. My personal favourite is my younger son, Adam, who will be going as a 70's pimp, bringing along some of his ho's - his friends in drag. We intend to start out from the hotel and walk the long stretch main road done up like eedjits, hitting a couple of pubs before the party venue itself.  Pics will ensue!

The party is tinged with sadness for my daughter, however. Her gran, my ex mum-in-law, Irene, has lost her battle with cancer. Her life support  was switched off a week ago and medics thought she would pass fairly quickly, and all said goodbye then but still she's hanging on. A tough old cookie indeed. But the show must go on for Kerri's sake. Her gran would do her nut if she didn't. Kerri was her only granddaughter and needs to keep that party light lit for her.