My Last Request

Memories to be cherished  

From my stint in detention 

When my biggest sin  

Was to seek redemption.  

How you held me,  

How you saved me. 

My heart beating stronger,  

reminding me of who I am,  

Helping me see beyond,  

To grow, to love again,  

To cherish, to adore,  

To begin again, to sing again,  

To scream Hallelujah  

As through rainbows  

On windowpanes  

autumn leaves  

Drift by, silently  

Calling to be seen,  

to become one 

with the symphony  

Playing in my heart.  

In your hands, safe,  

Knowing, this touch is sacred.  

Breathless, I laugh, and cry 

And sigh, then laugh some more.  

Every moment, a line from a song,  

A quote from a book.  

The way clear, I feel you near,  

Calling me home, to you, to me,  

To smile, to be free.  

To rejoice, to dance.   

To love and romance,  

To dream, to pray  

My last request  

To marry you, comes true 

As the dreams we dare  

To dream so often do.  

Shelley x  

Inside

Inside, I scream

Imprisoned, I feel

Impatient, I am

Being, ignored.

Unheard, I wait.

Knowing, I am

Not invisible. 

                                                     

I stand waiting

To be heard.

 Observed, I am

  Judged unjustly.

Denied, basic health care.

 I plead my case

Over and over. 

Expected to wait and wait

 For answers that don’t arrive

 On time to ease my mind

Only broken promises.

Neglect triggers frustration

 Agitation builds as I wait.

I remain locked up.

Trapped, kept away.

Insecurity with issues

Related to giving up.

 My phone, my respect,

My life, my family.

  In your hands.

I danced.

               

 Alone, nobody listening

Yet talking, discussing me,

 Without me, annoyance builds,

And, the anger turns to disgust.

Unjust treatment to distrust,

 Sickened not sick, I retreat.

  Quick, protect yourself.

From this prison cell

These four walls

This confined space

So much time unlived.

 I try to forgive.

With a sigh

I cry.

Locked out of life,

In its fullest glory

Shorter pages

In my story.

Relief it’s nearly time

 Time to breathe              

And then BOOM!

Comes another aftershock,

From the mouth of the doc

News I can’t digest

Creating unrest.

Inside my mind.   

Where I find

  I’m free to be me.

In this enforced isolation.

Sanctioned separation.

 Disconnection from my world

 From my boys and girls.

Yet every time, I rise again

  Anew, refreshed, and then

  There are the side effects.

Mind blurs,  legs wobble,

Stomach aches, unsafe now

I retreat from the threat

To my sanity from the insanity

The noise, and tune out to tune in.

To myself, where wisdom, I find

 Where worlds hide, waiting to remind    

To lead me back through the darkness   

Of veiled threats, of being manipulated,

  Coerced, bullied, threatened    

With physical force expecting me

  To “wholly comply”

   I deny, and revoke your

right to reply.

Rashelle Reid

The Voyage Log

If you’ve been reading my posts lately, you might have noticed that I’ve been going through a notebook I write some scribblings in while going through my own cancer journey. If you’re new here, don’t worry, I am one of the lucky ones who survived but like itself, the journey left some scars. I hope and pray for all those who are touched by cancer in their own life and that together we can do better to support people who are touched in anyway by cancer and also that we will find a way to cure cancer before too long. For now, I leave you some of the pondering of an over-loaded mind. Hope you enjoy them and make you smile, especially the little dino picture that was created by my little girl for her mum with not much notice. Thanks Aimee, love you xx

Xylophoneasaurus

An imaginary dinosaur who banded together with other dinosaurs and played music as the dinosaurs died. As birds fed on the insects on the dinosaur’s skin, they make music.

By Aimee Ferguson

Xylophoneasaurus was shaped a bit like a Stegosaurus and though he could conduct the music, he couldn’t play by himself.

He was a rare breed and had a place in dinosaur society revered by others.   Xylophoneosaurus often rose to the top of their tribe and were often the shamans in the group.

They dreamed more than other dinosaurs including daydreams so sometimes were described as lazy and distracted.

But the dreams of the Xylophoneosaurus contained messages for the clan and when food was in short supply the Xylophonosaurus would receive messages to help nourish the group, either by discovering sites where food was in abundant supply or by providing the group music to nurture their souls until food arrived.   When the clan needed to relocate the Xylophoneosaurus would be joined with some crows on his back who provided the team with marching music.   The Xylophonosaurus was often nick-named XI.

The Keys

When St. Peter calls, I’ve already weighed my heart and it’s only up I go. 

Don’t ask me, I can’t tell you, how in hell I know. 

Ramblings

The ramblings of a mad woman or the ponderings of a poet?

Does anyone ever become one and do they ever know it?

Excuse the language but…

I’ve been going through my “Voyage” notebook that I scribbled in when I had cancer, along with lots of other things I stumbled across this poem, I wrote it as a way to release some of the frustration and stress I was experiencing and to consign to words some of the heavier aspects of my life. My spoonful of sugar that helps me deal with these frustrations is putting on music while I’m tidying up etc.

I fucking hate housework

Cleaning a house that never looks clean

Putting away all the things that are seen

Clutter and chaos, aggravates my homeostasis

Makes my blood boil and leaves me frustrated.

I don’t mind the doing, at least not the once.

It’s the over and over that drives me insane.

I clean and declutter; wash all the clothes.

Only to find more mess under my nose.

Sort and order, put it away,

To do it all over the very next day

If only a simple cycle would suffice

I’m going in circles, making things nice.

Nobody notices the things that I do

But if I stop for a day, they all turn blue.

Order from chaos feeds my soul.

Yet housework never leaves me feeling whole.  

The Looking Glass

I’m sorry you are hurting

Believe me when I say

I know how it feels to hurt,

To experience, to feel deeply,

To feel cut to the bone

By words intended to help

Sometimes, the pain is so raw,

flesh torn, a heart shattered,

By circumstance, that the dance

Of life is merely a twinkle

From a distant star

That cannot wound you

Further, slipping into silence

In a world consumed by violence

Time after time

I’d hear the words…

“I just want the old you back.”

but that is not who I am,

now, I am more than before.

Made stronger, made wiser,

Built different with every trial,

every tribulation, every tear.

Each winter and summer,

Every autumn and spring

Re-writing the story

Only living can bring.

Every season will come again,

No matter how much I or we

Wish they would stay at bay.

I cried, so many tears,

At times, I wrote rhymes.

I sang in my head and aloud

Of the things I could feel

When my lips were sealed.

A world where at times I feared

People being too near,

Too close for comfort.

I found peace, time to heal.

In solitude, I sought sanctuary

the arms of angels held me,

carried me through, back to you

when the time was right

for the end of night.

When I had overcome

the depths, the winters, the fires,

shattered dreams reborn

no longer forlorn.

Too tired to repeat the cycles

Of people listening

But not hearing.

To explain, the rain

Over and over again.

As I fell asleep in my bed,

I bent my head,

To pray, the next day

Would be easer to bare.

To find my way there,

Back to the heart

Without tipping the apple cart.

I knew I had to be true,

To me, or I’d have slipped away

Long ago and along the way

Of being me, I was understood

By those who could see,

I can be nothing less than me.

With my heart brave and bold,

my love of songs, new and old.  

That in every dance,

I dream of romance,

Of love, of freedom.

Mind entranced

by the harmony of life.

Even in strife,

blessings to be found

as I looked around

They are part of me

As I am of you

I never stopped loving

With all my heart

Even when we were apart.

I tried my best at every turn,

Even when it burned.

Please forgive me,

Try to understand,

To hear, I have always

Wanted you near.

A raw wound is messy

And easy to tear,

And all I was doing

Was of myself, taking care.

I’ve come through it all

I’m a tower of strength.

And I appreciate you’d

Go to any lengths

The old me is gone now,

but I can still be your best friend.

This is a new beginning, not the end.

A woman with passion

And love in her heart.

My mission is clear

To treasure this world

And all I hold dear.

To care for the future,

As I have for the past

To always love the person

I found in the looking glass.

The Clubhouse Mixtape Remastered

Shall we take a trip down memory lane to Somewhere Only we Know where we all went a tad Insane in the membrane. Where stair dwellers, and shoe gazers, met boys in hats wearing velvet blazers, over and over again. Doc boots on a Hippychick, New Shoes, to the carpet stick! My Generation had no Geordie Shores for our Teenage Kicks, just Newcastle Brown Ale and plain, old sick.

They told me I’m an indie kid until I started to rave but Freaky Dancin‘ was all I really craved. This Music is Shit play some Kylie. There She Goes again, the DJ’s laugh, looking a tad wily. You’re Unbelievable, Rashelle, it’s too cheesy to be cool but singing Hallelujah and Spinning Around I knew I was Nobody’s Fool. I was Losing my Religion but I had found My Church and on the door, we were greeted by a guy we called Big Lurch. In the Clubbie, an Unfinished Symphony had begun, Dancing in the Dark we were shone on by The Suns and as Shiny, Happy People twirled under a Waterfall we were introduced to a girl named Victoria by a band called The Fall.

She’s a Rainbow we discovered Dancing Naked in the Rain as we teleported to a Mersey Paradise over and over again. We got to know The Shamen who taught us to Move any Mountain and fed our souls with spiritual food before introducing us to a shady guy named Ebenezeer Goode.

I missed the party when The Farm came to town and as they sang All together now at Tracey’s, wee Shelley did frown. We made for the border and networked a lot, we were a tad naughty but never got caught. From Soul to Soul to Robbie’s Angel, we have stories to tell and though we had Sympathy for the Devil we didn’t go Straight to Hell. With No Limits, we wandered into Strawberry Fields and discovered Groove is in the Heart, Learning to Fly, as we planned the Revolution we’d start.

On the Last Train to Transcendental we went a bit mental as we asked What Time is Love? And,/ in the light of the Blue Sunshine danced with a Looking Glass Girl wearing The Glove.

Another Brick in the Wall left us quite dazed but as The Doors opened, we were no longer fazed. On a Perfect, Fairground Attraction trying to get some action but it seems I can’t get no Satisfaction. Still, I Feel Good, as I down a Funky, Cold Medina before I Turn Around and see myself as a Dancing Queen crowned by Abba.

His Girlfriend in a coma, plays In the Dark, as we remember old friends who on our hearts left a mark. Feeling ridiculous as we Sit Down with James, before we Jump Around to House of Pain. Wearing My Favourite Dress wondering Should I stay or Should I go? before tequila slammers get me in a mess. I Wanna be Adored but it’s Closing Time so grab your coats, there’s a party at mine.

Where’s me Jumper? I Scream over the noise as I fall into the eyes of a gorgeous boy. “Are you going to go my way?” I whisper, Like a Prayer as someone cries “Touch me, I’m Sick” from the Clubhouse stairs. “Help!” he moans as he spews into his combats, while wearing a kaftan. “Everything’s Gonna be All RIght, Just Relax and Enjoy Yourself, Rocketman.”

I Knew You Were Waiting” I beamed. Things Can Only Get Better, unless this is just a D-Ream. “Ever fallen in love? he asks as I swoon, under the light of The Whole of the Moon. This could be a Perfect Day if you Touch Me, I think to myself, maybe I’m being Naive and I’m really on the Highway to Hell. It’s a Sin, but I can’t resist this Temptation. Electric Dreams fill my mind and deliver a New Sensation and my heart explodes in Fascination.

You’re a Wild Thing, little Foxy Lady he whispers as the Purple Rain soaks us under the light of the moon. Be My Bloody Valentine, I plead. He nods and reply’s “I will be, Soon.”

Do you remember the first time?” I asked “What’s the story, morning glory? in the Love Shack?”

“Is this A Kind of Magic? you whispered back . We walked home together, hand in hand, and with One Kiss, we transported to Wonderland.

Mods, rockers, sinners and saints, Under the Bridge back in the day.

Imagine that, now all that’s left to say is Thank You for the Music to friends new and old, from down Paisley way.

Love and Laughter , Rashelle  

The Clubhouse Mixtape

Shall we take a trip down memory lane to when we went Insane in the membrane. Where stair dwellers, and shoe gazers, met boys in hats in velvet blazers. Doc boots on a Hippychick, new shoes, to the carpet stick! No Geordie Shores for our Teenage Kicks, was it Newky Brown or plain, old sick.

They told me I’m an indie kid until I started to rave but Freaky Dancin‘ was all I really craved.  This Music is Shit please play some Kylie. There She Goes again, the DJ’s laugh looking a tad wily. You’re Unbelievable, Rashelle, it’s too cheesy to be cool but Spinning Around I knew I was Nobody’s Fool.  I was Losing my Religion but I had found My Church and on the door, we were greeted by a guy we called Big Lurch.  In the Clubbie, an Unfinished Symphony had begun, in the darkness we were even shone on by The Suns.

I missed the party when The Farm came to town and as they sang All together now, wee Shelley did frown. We made for the border and networked a lot, we were a tad naughty but never got caught. From Soul to Soul to Robbie’s Angel, we have stories to tell and though we have Sympathy for the Devil we didn’t go Straight to Hell. With No Limits, we danced in Strawberry Fields where we discovered that the Groove is in the Heart and on the Last train to Transcendental we went a bit mental.

Another Brick in the Wall left us quite dazed but as The Doors opened, we were no longer fazed. On a Perfect, Fairground attraction somehow we survived every fatal attraction. His Girlfriend in a coma, plays In the Dark, as we remember old friends who on our hearts, left a mark. Feeling ridiculous as we Sit Down with James, before we Jump Around to House of Pain. Wearing My Favourite Dress wondering Should I stay or Should I go now? before tequila slammers get me in a mess. I Wanna be Adored but it’s Closing Time so grab your coats, there’s a party at mine. Where’s me Jumper? I scream over the noise as I drown in the eyes of a gorgeous boy. “Ever fallen in love? he asks as I swoon, under the light of The Whole of the Moon. Do you remember the first time? you whispered “What’s the story, morning glory?” in the Love Shack. “Is this A Kind of Magic? I whispered back.

Mods, rockers, sinners and saints, with trains overhead back in the day.

Cheers, Rashelle  

Extended version coming soon – Watch this Space

Entranced by the Music

Light and Music, Paisley Abbey.

The fool-hearty,

the wise

the joker in guise

The message appears

before your eyes

Captivated,

enjoying the dance.

Lost in the music

totally entranced.

A heavenly chorus

immersed in light,

a heart resurrected

a  wondrous sight.

 

The hills were alive with the sound of music – Part 2


DSC_0382

We’ve had orchards for public consumption and people singing in the streets. the snail case, saints, socialist’s and some really horrendous history. We’ve had patterns, poets, philanthropists and our fair share of mystery. We’ve had tragedy and triumphs and starting again, we’ve had dark days that feel, like they’ll never end. We lift up our heads and we keep stumbling on, no longer are Gleniffer Braes filled with our songs. Our voices are muffled and the tune’s hard to hear, maybe that’s why we’re not filled with more cheer. The resonance changes as we come together in song, so let’s do it again before very long. A summer festival, just like the old days, a chorus of voices from Glennifer Braes. Songs of freedom and tales never told, a coming together of the young and the old. Our hearts lifted as our voice joins in unity, we go back into town as a community.

https://ponderingsfrompaisley.wordpress.com/2015/01/25/the-hills-were-alive-with-the-sound-of-music/

 

 

 

 

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