Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category


This poem was originally going to be part of the fat shaming poem I published on Wednesday but I decided to make then into two separate poems. Any thoughts on how I have done this are welcome.

i forgot why i started eating
food was my only friend
my memories, my life
my very reason for
existing was food
and nothing else
until i took control
of my life, my very being
changed my identity
walked down the street
with my head held high
ignored the abuse
was proud of who i was,
who i was becoming
slowly the abuse stopped
the desire for food receded
i began to live the life
i wanted, i deserved
and helped others like me
overcome the abuse
beat the fat shamers
and be the person
they deserved to be
live the life they wanted
and make the world
a better place
for everyone


I still remember two people from my early days at Holme Middle. One is a lad called Thomas. He was mixed race, what we called half caste at the time although it must be remembered that we quite often used terminology without understanding it and there wasn’t the awareness back then that there is now. Thomas lived in the children’s home on the other side of the valley. I don’t know the circumstances of why he was in the children’s home and never asked him. The children’s home was the biggest house on the estate and stood out because of this. I can’t remember anyone thinking any differently of the children from the home, they were just kids like us. I started hanging around with Thomas and he started coming back to my house. This ended when my mum caught him stealing money from her purse. I never saw Thomas again. Another lad whose name I can’t remember stood out because he dressed in a more feminine way. It didn’t bother me or anyone else, not in the way it seems to do in today’s society. He was a nice kid and we never said a bad word to each other. I met him again many years later. I was collecting loans on an estate and he lived in a flat there. He’d had a sex change and was engaged to a man who loved him. I was really happy for him. Despite growing up at a time when it was perceived that acceptance of difference was less tolerant he’d trod his own path and become the person he always wanted to be and believed he was, and he’d found love as well which is a very special thing indeed.


they call me fat
make me feel ashamed
ashamed to eat
ashamed to enjoy food
ashamed to go out
ashamed to be seen
ashamed to look at
my reflection in the mirror
ashamed to think
ashamed to breath
ashamed to be human
ashamed to be me
being ashamed has
become my identity
i am not human anymore
i only exist so
others can mock me
force me to stop inside
and eat more and more
exacerbating the problem
completing the circle of
problem, abuse, shame
a vicious circle
that consumes me
a vicious circle
that i cannot escape


It’s September 1976 and the start of a new school year at a new school, Holme Middle. It’s further away than Holmefield First but not by much and I enjoy walking to and from school. Some of my friends from Holmefield First have gone to different schools and I will never see them again, but I make new friends here playing games in the school yard and in lessons. It’s a great start to a new chapter in my life, one without any cares, worries or stresses, one where I can be me and no-one else and live a carefree, happy life. Looking back this could be the last time I felt like this for so long without the changes that growing up is and the stresses and pressures that come with the change of age. With a new school comes new teachers and one of the first to make an impression on me was an elderly gent, probably approaching retirement but one of the nicest teachers I knew. I can’t remember his name now but I do remember that he was kind and knew how to get the best out of you and always had time for you. He drove a Triumph 2500 which at the time was one of the best cars on the market and I loved it! I remember wishing I had one every day I saw it.

sugary dandruff

Posted: September 16, 2019 in poetry, Uncategorized
Tags: , ,

she imagined the dandruff
that ran through her hair
and tumbled down here face
was streams of sweet sugar
and smiled as she tasted
the white substance
on her tongue


It’s September 1976 and the start of a new school year at a new school, Holme Middle. It’s further away than Holmefield First but not by much and I enjoy walking to and from school. Some of my friends from Holmefield First have gone to different schools and I will never see them again, but I make new friends here playing games in the school yard and in lessons. It’s a great start to a new chapter in my life, one without any cares, worries or stresses, one where I can be me and no-one else and live a carefree, happy life. Looking back this could be the last time I felt like this for so long without the changes that growing up is and the stresses and pressures that come with the change of age. With a new school comes new teachers and one of the first to make an impression on me was an elderly gent, probably approaching retirement but one of the nicest teachers I knew. I can’t remember his name now but I do remember that he was kind and knew how to get the best out of you and always had time for you. He drove a Triumph 2500 which at the time was one of the best cars on the market and I loved it! I remember wishing I had one every day I saw it.

autumn running

Posted: September 14, 2019 in poetry, Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , ,

last week it was warm and dry
no wind, no rain, no mud
i ran free with ease
leaping over rocks
flying down embankments
soaring over hills
splashing through streams

in a blink summer has gone
and autumn is here
today the air is cooler
a lighter shade of blue
puddles of mud appear
the wind is coming back
together with cold, crisp air

soon blues will be replaced with greys
clear skies with overwhelming darkness
dry, hard trails with
thick layers of mud
puddles will litter the paths
as leaves dance in the wind
and the autumnal opera begins


I’ll always remember Mark Lloyds dad. He was a big man and scary too. Nobody messed with him and I never saw anyone speak to him, ever. He went to work and came home and that was it. I was friends with Mark for a time and I went inside his house. He had an end house so had a bigger garden then the other houses. It was nice and tidy and Mark’s mum was friendly and talkative, the complete opposite of his dad. I remember once Mark and me were playing outside my house and his dad came walking up the street towards us. As he got closer he asked me to leave as he had something he wanted to say to Mark. Instead of going inside as anyone normally would I opened the garden gate and walked down to the valley! I’ve no idea why I did this as it would have been the accepted thing to walk inside my house but no, I decided to go off in a completely unexpected direction. I can imagine Mark and his dad watching me now wondering what I was doing and why. Having said that I could never work out what the attraction was for Mark’s mum to his dad but life can be strange like that. I might have seen Mark after that but I can’t remember if I did for certain. Life can be strange life that.


heather turns brown
leaves flutter into pools of
mud, created by tears of
despair, carried by cavernous
clouds, fleeing across
skies of doom

today as i sit
watching life migrate by
a season going comes
out to play one
last time, one last
day as life returns

nooks and crannies
warmed for one last
time, insects play
the last scene of
their lives before a
sun sets one last time


Despite mums best efforts money became increasingly tight and we started to get behind with the bills. I think we kept on top of the rent but I know for certain that we got behind with the gas and electric because we had it cut off. Two men came round to do the job, one in an overcoat and bowler hat who looked the stereotypical enforcement officer of the time, the other stayed outside keeping watch. Everybody on the street much have known what was happening. No gas and electric meant no fire, no TV, no lights, no cooking. Everything we take for granted now and to a certain extent did then was gone in seconds and would not be restored until the arrears had been paid. We huddled round a coal fire watching it go from a blaze to a pile of smouldering embers. The TV was replaced by a battery powered portable radio. Lighting was done by paraffin lamps carefully placed around the house to ensure they could not be knocked over potentially causing a fire. My mum cooked on the coal fire pans of vegetables and potatoes and I can only assume we had some meat. I always marvelled at how my mum could prepare and cook a meal to perfection with everything coming together at once. It was even more remarkable how she did it during this period swapping pans of food on the coal fire but still making a lovely meal for us all. I can’t remember how long it was before we had the gas and electric restored but I do remember one lad from school asking if he could come to my house and me having to say no. I instinctively said no and instinctively felt shameful for saying no and for not being able to say why I said no. I don’t think I fully understood why I was saying no or why I felt ashamed at the time but I knew deep down it was the only thing to say. We kept living in the house but I can imagine that was only just. Things were so tight during those times and no one helped us.