One year book birthday for 'Please Hear What I'm Not Saying'!
This time last year 'Please Hear What I'm Not Saying', a poetry anthology raising funds the UK Charity, Mind, was published, featuring 116 poets across the globe.The anthology does not shy away from the realities of mental health and is divided into sections, the poetry feeling more positive throughout the book, with a focus on therapy and healing towards the end of the work. Since the book was published we have raised just under £600 for charity – an impressive figure which I'm keen to build on!To celebrate this book birthday, I am running a giveaway. Below are the fantastic entries I have received so far. If you want to enter your micro poem of 10 lines or under, you can send your entry to Isabellekenyon@hotmail.co.uk with your address and your social media handles. Address your subject line as 'Micro poem competition'. Competition closes on February 24 and the winner will be announced on February 25.
Cloudy MindBy Robin McNamara Twitter: @robbiemac Broken windows,The wind rattles theRusted frames.Religion on the TVOn this dead Sunday.Life is closed today,Quietness at the table,The wind of this barren,Dulled day howl louder,On this dead Sunday.ThreadsBy Dale ParnellDo you see the fine threadBy which I hang?A filament burning white hot,Ready to breakAnd cast me into the abyss.VoiceBy Fokkina McDonnellI’m scared of the voice that tells me to let go of the wheel.It’s an old man’s, harsh, gritty, cold, pushing me.That time: Monday, sunny, A487, heading for Portmadog… throat, sweaty fingers, heatBlack figures carry bags home. Whatever home might mean.Silence, only sirens calling. The dog-end of the year.Falling is kind of doing something.You can fall sideways, head first, backwards.I have worked all these years to stay upright.Running like a rabbit on a metal track.The Worry TreeBy Jon WilkinsAs a device in mental health circles some brightspark has developed the smashing idea of the worry treewhere, if you are anxious about anything in particular you comeup with an action plan and when you have that plan in place yousay to your doubting self can I do anything about this worry?And if you can that’s fine, but if you can’t the answer is so simple,you throw the worry away. So along with being asked if you havethought about harming yourself due to your illness, or even ending yourbleak filled life you now have to nurture the roots of the worry treebefore you throw your worry away and are so miraculously Cured.messed upBy Laura McKee in praise of the blur the imperfect edge where your hand or the breeze dared to shakeChimpBy Jeff Skinner@JeffSquibby TwitterI whisper for Englandsilence the crowd with my noise,tamper with your playliston the bus. You can’tshake me off, throw me up.I’m in your face. In the tunnelon your case. Nowhere’s safe.Don’t ch-choke now.RelayBy Louise BrownTwitter @LouiseLawyerThat day was like a race of relay;you the runner at the front;sprinting to the finish linelike an Olympian;the burning torch passed back to us.Pain transferred;your story ended that day by suicide ; our new stories began.InsulatedBy Rachael Ikinslithium-cocoonedstill I weep “goodbye.”still parting’s pain likewet leaves you mustpeel my fingers off your car one by one.Invisible, my fingerprints swirl, curldust settles while your taillights wink.From the outside (looking in)By Juliette SebockTwitter @juliettesebockI was having a bad day andcould hear the universecollectively ask why,and I didn't have an answer.How can I explain thata little bit of everythingseems to be wrongwhen nothing really is?From what they see,I have no right to be sad.Held Closed By Maxine Rose MunroThink of me as that kitchen drawer jammed shut ever since you've known, so long you've forgotten what's in there. If you ever knew. Superficially it's the same, but with added hidden depths. Forcing things to open won't work,you know that. Use your hands with your heart with your mind, take time to find what's held closed; those things I keep inside. Links to buy Please Hear What I'm Not Saying and support Mind:The Fly on the Wall ShopWaterstonesBookmarks BookshopAmazon
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Cloudy MindBy Robin McNamara Twitter: @robbiemac Broken windows,The wind rattles theRusted frames.Religion on the TVOn this dead Sunday.Life is closed today,Quietness at the table,The wind of this barren,Dulled day howl louder,On this dead Sunday.ThreadsBy Dale ParnellDo you see the fine threadBy which I hang?A filament burning white hot,Ready to breakAnd cast me into the abyss.VoiceBy Fokkina McDonnellI’m scared of the voice that tells me to let go of the wheel.It’s an old man’s, harsh, gritty, cold, pushing me.That time: Monday, sunny, A487, heading for Portmadog… throat, sweaty fingers, heatBlack figures carry bags home. Whatever home might mean.Silence, only sirens calling. The dog-end of the year.Falling is kind of doing something.You can fall sideways, head first, backwards.I have worked all these years to stay upright.Running like a rabbit on a metal track.The Worry TreeBy Jon WilkinsAs a device in mental health circles some brightspark has developed the smashing idea of the worry treewhere, if you are anxious about anything in particular you comeup with an action plan and when you have that plan in place yousay to your doubting self can I do anything about this worry?And if you can that’s fine, but if you can’t the answer is so simple,you throw the worry away. So along with being asked if you havethought about harming yourself due to your illness, or even ending yourbleak filled life you now have to nurture the roots of the worry treebefore you throw your worry away and are so miraculously Cured.messed upBy Laura McKee in praise of the blur the imperfect edge where your hand or the breeze dared to shakeChimpBy Jeff Skinner@JeffSquibby TwitterI whisper for Englandsilence the crowd with my noise,tamper with your playliston the bus. You can’tshake me off, throw me up.I’m in your face. In the tunnelon your case. Nowhere’s safe.Don’t ch-choke now.RelayBy Louise BrownTwitter @LouiseLawyerThat day was like a race of relay;you the runner at the front;sprinting to the finish linelike an Olympian;the burning torch passed back to us.Pain transferred;your story ended that day by suicide ; our new stories began.InsulatedBy Rachael Ikinslithium-cocoonedstill I weep “goodbye.”still parting’s pain likewet leaves you mustpeel my fingers off your car one by one.Invisible, my fingerprints swirl, curldust settles while your taillights wink.From the outside (looking in)By Juliette SebockTwitter @juliettesebockI was having a bad day andcould hear the universecollectively ask why,and I didn't have an answer.How can I explain thata little bit of everythingseems to be wrongwhen nothing really is?From what they see,I have no right to be sad.Held Closed By Maxine Rose MunroThink of me as that kitchen drawer jammed shut ever since you've known, so long you've forgotten what's in there. If you ever knew. Superficially it's the same, but with added hidden depths. Forcing things to open won't work,you know that. Use your hands with your heart with your mind, take time to find what's held closed; those things I keep inside. Links to buy Please Hear What I'm Not Saying and support Mind:The Fly on the Wall ShopWaterstonesBookmarks BookshopAmazon~
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