Posts Tagged ‘mum’


you loved the light entering my bedroom
every morning turning on my light
falling down from the middle of the ceiling
blinding me momentarily
confusing me before i rub the
sleep out of my eyes to see you
silhouetted against the morning sun
holding a curtain in each hand
a saint on a cross
opening the gates to heaven
stepping aside to let
the rays of life touch her son
breath new life into him
and start a new day


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.


After dad lost his job mum had to go full time with her cleaning job to make sure we could afford the basics, food, water, electric, gas, rent. It was hard work but mum did it and we somehow managed. I don’t how she did it but she did. Five days a week working full time while doing the cooking and cleaning too. Dad just made things out of wood, did odd jobs here and there and drank as much as he could as often as he could. Looking back it must have been a daily struggle for mum, trying to keep on top of everything while dad tried his best to sink us further into debt. As fast as mum earnt money dad spent it. It would be easy to blame dad for everything but alcohol is a drug and it can be additive to the point where it takes over your life. This is what happened to dad but back then there wasn’t the awareness or help that there is now. If there had been life could have been so different to the one I experienced growing up as a kid.


I’m at a house, it might be mine, it might not. We have a visitor a woman. My mum and her are talking, I’m playing with my toys while they talk. I go near the woman’s feet, they bare, naked. This is my first memory of bare skin. I’m nervous, apprehensive about approaching her feet, touching her bare skin. Something inside me tells me to stop, to not touch, to not stare, to go back to playing with my toys. Bare skin is bad and should not be touched.


my mother and father

would plant vegetables and flowers

in the garden or the allotment

anywhere where earth could be dug

digging through different

shades of mud and clay

planting dull, drab bulbs

that transform into colourful

shapely vegetables too good to eat

tiny seeds left deep underground

turn into flowers creating a paradise

in a corner of nowhere

my mother and father

planted all the colours

seen on earth and beyond

reproducing them perfectly

as nature intended

how i wish i could go back

and watch them dig and plant

all those bulbs and seeds

and learn from their gardening ways

and reproduce nature

as they once did…


you loved the light

how it entered my bedroom

every morning with you

turning on my light

hanging, still, on its own

in the middle of

a pure, white ceiling

momentarily blinding me

i am confused for a second

before i rub the nights

sleep out of my eyes

and blinking see your shape

silhouetted against my bedroom window

holding a curtain in each hand

for me a saint on a cross

opening the gates to heaven

before stepping aside to

allow the first rays of sunlight

to create a rainbow in the

corner of a teary eye

and breathe new life

into her young son

as he takes in the light

of this brand new day


the world changed when i was born

not in a big way

nothing earth shattering happened

no earthquakes to announce my birth

no volcanos erupting to drown my screams

no hurricanes to blow away my mothers pain

but for my mum, my dad, my family

the world changed when i was born

the world changed when you was born

the world changes when every baby is born