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Poem published…

by Ariel Chart

Fill My Lens




My mother’s photos show us standing stiffly beside 
this or that. My little daughter stood to attention 
next to something.  Her cowlick licked into submission.
I never posed her or confined her, my daughter
is a free spirit to fill my lens, her hair adrift
in waves and the wind. Brimming
with life and joy, pondering, taking it all in.
Her early years are never far from my eye.


Take the photo. Take it now.

Chrissie Morris Brady



Chrissie Morris Brady lives on the South Coast of England with her daughter. She is much travelled and has worked in several countries, sometimes as a cook. She gained her degrees in Psychology at USC, and worked with recovering addicts in Southern California for several years. She has been published by Anti-Heroin Chic, Ariel Chart, Hedge Hog Press, DeadSnakes, WISHpoetry, Bournemouth Borough Council, Scarlet Leaf Review and other publications.

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Broken…

I need to to sleep with a bee, be cuddled and have my feet held.

I am completely broken over recent events. I never thought for one moment that anyone would think that I would want them just to take care of me.

In my poem, Who I am, my daughter has not deserted me. My Dad also died in my arms.

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Who I am

Christine, in years to come you will hear words spoken about you,be asked questions you know not the meaning of, you will be as an exhibit, a fascination, reduced to symptoms of medical interest
Resist the urge to live,let yourself go into the gloomy stupor of death which leads to the light beyond. Ignore the instinct to survive, to grab hold of life, your suffering will be ignored, your pain unknown, you will never find love on this earth
Let all the confusion you will know wash over and away, the years beyond will be too many, with not enough of anything to sustain, not love, not friends, not family, your own daughter will desert you, your sister die in your arms
Dad will love you, mother will poison your life more than disease, let go, when death comes, say yes, and let it be short, don’t live long while you are dying, acquiesce, embrace the light, go to the everlasting arms, don’t exhaust yourself with living
People live in their cocoons, what destroys your life is of no concern, no one will care about you, empty words will fill your ears, enjoy the sunlight and say goodbye while you can speak, everyone you love will disappear, fade away, words have no meaning, life is dust, let go

Published by Hedgehog Press

This is the most autobiographical piece I’ve ever written. My editor invited poems on the theme of who we are. I chose to write to my seven year old self. I was broken up over recent events, I thought about the man I married, my love for him that had water poured over it and yet the support I gave him when a mother’s nightmare happened to us. He took, he took and took. Another relationship, fairly uneventful but he was jealous. He slipped a disc and I nursed him, he took and took. And all the time I was a mother putting my daughter first. Then a boring little man, who asked permission to go to the shop for his lunch stuff, got into my bedroom at three in the morning and molested me while we were talking. While making amends for that he seduced me and began a relationship with me. I started to fall in love but he obeyed his owner. I was fine but he came to visit me, and that was the undoing. I have a folder of emails I thought were from his owner, but apparently are from him. A lot of emails over the last nine months. And then he crushed me. Told me I only wanted a carer. He smashed me and the pieces are many

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Poem at ‘The Voice’

Writing With Light

Take the photograph now. The light will change in moments, in murmurs, in breaths. Don’t ask them to smile, that is not the memory. Take another photo, half a stop up,again, half a stop down. We can write with light  if we don’t seek a pose.
The light has changed now. So have the murmurs, the breaths. Laughter may have died to another mood. Capture it, the sense of it.Fragile, the memories we keep. The camera often lies, but more, our uncertain minds don’t retain what was, but rather, what we wish it had been.
Yet we recall the things we meant to say, or wished we could have said, or not said. If we could have loved better, or found love elsewhere. Friendships that we have still are and those we lost or ended. 

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Ebsworth well and truly broke my laptop…

I’ve been using my phone to write my blog since an alcoholic broke my laptop. I was still able to use it to look at websites, and read emails but that was about it. Now I can’t even do that. I know absolutely nothing about computers, laptops etc. And I have no money to repair it or replace it. I am going to have to insure whatever gets repaired or replaced.

A poem of mine been published by The Voice. I have been trying to copy and paste it here, but I need my laptop to do that. The Voice is on WordPress so if you really want to read it, put in that name followed by mine. I actually hate reading my poetry after it’s been published. I also heard that I hadn’t won a prize that I had entered, but I did get a lot of very positive feedback.

The pain I have been suffering has grown worse. Last night I went to bed early due to excruciating pain in my legs. Nerve pain, which feels like you’ve climbed ten thousand stairs, so like an ache but not.

Today I was in my bathroom and I began to wonder if the wind chimes had been taken down as there was silence. Just as I dared to hope that they had been removed, the ting-tang=ting started again and I retreated my bedroom in tears.

I have started to look for solicitors to take legal action against my neighbours, their letting agent and my former neighbours.

No one should have to live like this. Ebsworth judged me for it and the irony is that he is partially, if not totally responsible for it.

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Feeling so blah…

I’ve been feeling so unhappy since the autumn arrived with colder temperatures and so much rain. I really enjoyed what I wore during the summer and felt good inside. I liked me.

Since the weather changed I’ve felt so ordinary and with the grinding away at my health of the wind chimes, I’ve begun to feel unhappy. Of course, having a man you thought you loved walk out because he jumped to conclusions doesn’t help, but I’ve seen how incredibly selfish he is and what a drink he is.

On the night of the equinox, I had a wonderful dream: my garden was full of birds again and flowers and trees were growing every where. I was feeling full of anticipation. I have wondered where this dream had come from. Certainly, I had not been full of hope as I had just been disappointed. My laptop had been broken by Ebsworth, and the wind chime is still tinkling away, grating on my brain and nervous system.

Nothing was different, the dream came from somewhere in my subconscious. I am an optimist deep down, even when I lie staring at the wall filled with grief and depression for all the family I’ve lost in the last two and a half years, my dog, my friends. All the friends that I got on with most of all, that ‘click’ when you fit together, have died. I can’t express my loss. I feel it deeply.

I’ve been told my last blog post was angry. I wrote it in a particular tone because I know someone reads my blog and I wanted to be clear. I am rarely angry. Although I have to admit that the wind chimes cause me irritation like few things ever have. Pain has that effect. I am in pain all the time, those wind chimes just don’t quit.

My left arm and leg are filled with pain. My leg at times will not bear my weight so walking becomes a stumble. I have lost some weight because of the spasms, so I’m trying to eat a lot of carbohydrates.

Thankfully, I sleep well most nights. I’m so grateful for this. It’s much needed respite.

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The Press…

Last week I was contacted by The Metro, a London newspaper who had seen my petition about consulting neighbours before installing noise making things that cause disturbance. They wanted my story, why this had happened and so on.

I told them how the letting agency for my neighbours, Quay Living, had been told a pack of lies about me by a former neighbour and how this would never have happened if I had not dropped my complaint to the police about being sexually assaulted. I told them how my neurological disease is affected by high pitched sounds.

No decent person doesn’t realise that telling lies about someone will affect their future. Only a psychotic person who thinks only of themselves does not think about it. The lies told about me have changed my new neighbours attitude toward me and they are being incredibly cruel. Who knowingly inflicts agony on someone??

I got told I have too much ‘stuff’ by Michael Ebsworth. Well, he’s had about 12 addresses the last 25 years while I have been bringing up a daughter on my own. Daughters like ‘stuff’ and they give their mothers ‘stuff’ and it’s hard to let go of that stuff.

I am a prisoner in my bedroom. I eat here, I watch TV here, I write, Read and sleep here. All because of the wind chimes. I roll around in agony here. No one would believe how I’m forced to live because of my neighbours, because they were told lies.

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Pablo Neruda…

Emerging

A man says yes without knowing
how to decide even what the question is,
and is caught up, and then is carried along
and never again escapes from his own cocoon;
and that’s how we are, forever falling
into the deep well of other beings;
and one thread wraps itself around our necks,
another entwines a foot, and then it is impossible,
impossible to move except in the well —
nobody can rescue us from other people.

It seems as if we don’t know how to speak;
it seems as if there are words which escape,
which are missing, when have gone away and left us
to ourselves, tangled up in snares and threads.

And all at once, that’s it; we no longer know
what it’s all about, but we are deep inside it,
and now we will never see with the same eyes
as once we did when we were children playing.
Now these eyes are closed to us,
now our hands emerge from different arms.

And therefore when you sleep, you are alone in your dreaming,
and running freely through the corridors
of one dream only, which belongs to you.
Oh never let them come to steal our dreams,
never let them entwine us in our bed.
Let us hold on to the shadows
to see if, from our own obscurity,
we emerge and grope along the walls,
lie in wait for the light, to capture it,
till, once and for all time,
it becomes our own, the sun of every day.

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More from Issue 57, Spring 1974

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My lucky escape

So I’ve written here how Michael Ebsworth came to move in with me and left because he created a lie in his head. Well, at first it hurt a lot because he told me I’d only wanted a relationship so that I would have a cook, cleaner and nurse. Anyone who knows me realises that is complete tosh. Nonsense. So far from the truth.

Then I realised how lucky I was that he left because my concerns about how much he drinks were confirmed. I told him eleven months ago that he needed to cut back his drinking and quit smoking. He has paid no attention. He spends so much of his time in black out. He doesn’t recall things he’s said or done.

The sweet, gentle, kind hearted man I discovered isn’t there anymore. He’s changed into the state of further along the path of alcoholism, where his need for alcohol supersedes other concerns. He cannot take responsibility for anything, let alone his behaviour. He cannot see that the malicious lies his friends told to their letting agency have irrevocably changed my life here in my home of 14 years. If I had not withdrawn my complaint of sexual assault, none of this would have happened. That is my only mistake. I should have stuck to that. I have paid so dearly in being merciful. He has repaid mercy with selfishness and games. And if he had never visited me last March I would have carried on happily forgetting him. I was not unhappy when his friend found him out. I was a bit sad, as I’d enjoyed his company. But I did not want a man who jumped to heel when commanded.

He must be so lonely in his make believe world. Everyone who ever loved him hates him, including his Dad. I don’t care enough to hate him. I’m just grateful that he isn’t in my life, making me lonely. There is nothing lonelier than being in a relationship with an addict. Even if he had decided to stay, I would have soon asked him to leave.

Because of the lies told to the letting agency who let the house next door, they have no regard for me and won’t ask my current neighbours to move or change the wind chimes. I have started a petition to create a law that ensures that if a householder wants to hang something that makes noise or visual disturbance they must consult their neighbours to ensure no harm or nuisance is caused. This would benefit night shift workers, young mums with toddlers as well as those with illnesses that are detrimentally affected. Anyone can sign it. If you would like to sign it just let me know.

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Why men get erectile dysfunction…

Sadly, some men think that erectile dysfunction comes with aging. That is such a lie, developed through men talking to men and not seeking help.

The most common reason that a man fails to achieve an erection is deep unhappiness. I don’t mean depression here. I mean a deep unhappiness in their life for any number of reasons. It could be something that stems from childhood, a miserable relationship, no job satisfaction. An unhappiness they barely recognise because it’s so deep they can’t name it.

The second most common reason is depression. You may think deep unhappiness and depression are the same. They differ in that depression can be treated, but deep unhappiness may never be resolved. For example, I have deep unhappiness that my family decided to live in England. It doesn’t stop me being happy.

Next is depression. The feeing of despair, hopelessness and that nothing can be put right. It takes a while for anyone to realise they are depressed and sadly men are far less likely to get help than women. If they do get help, it is likely that anti-depressants will cause erectile dysfunction.

A third reason for erectile dysfunction, which often is a consequence of the first two, is consuming too much alcohol. Men who drink too much will not have a satisfactory sex life. They will fai to achieve an erection, and be very unsatisfied.

Erectile dysfunction is one of the first signs of consuming to much alcohol. They will initially think there is another reason, or keep believing there is another reason. They wil experience ‘black out’ and not realise it. That is to say, they have no memory of what they were doing. When alcohol consumption reaches this point, we call it alcoholism. Alcoholics often don’t realise they have a problem. They may have a job, make decisions, think they have a good relationship, but they do thing in blackout, that are unacceptable or even criminal, such as sexual assault, speeding, criminal damage,and so on. In this case, erectile dysfunction is the least of their problems but they will fixate on that being their only problem.

A lot ofmenmay encounter temporary erectile dysfunction due to illness or injury. Grief and other emotions can make temporary problem, but it is important not to become anxious about this. Everything will normalise if they are in a loving relationship. It just takes some patience and understanding. There are many ways to be be intimate without an erect penis.

This is by no means a detailed look at this subject, but it is useful overview.