poetrygarden

    Is a good parant some one who is always there for there child?  Is a good parant some one who teaches right from wrong?  What exactly is a good parant?  What i have thought of as a good parant in the past have turned out not to be so good.

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  My reason for writing a lot of the time is that i am easily bored. . Before i began blogging i wrote stories and poetry sending some to publishers. Poetry about  anything, and stories about anything, including stories for children all of which i tried to make original.

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    Coming from a broken home myself i never had any dreams about marriage and babies like some girls do. I was warned that i would be out the door if i came home pregnant ,so when i was taken to the pictures by a charming young man when i was fourteen years old i was scared i only knew where babies came from working it out from what we were taught at School which was not very much. When the boy went to kiss me i did a runner no way did i want a baby, well who knows i did not, one thing leads to another. He asked me out over and over again sending me notes through friends at work the other girls were jealous of the attention i got from him, he showered me with gifts, but i never went out with him again. I moved on and met a medical student i went out with regular for eighteen months then we parted and came back together at invervals. he had a jealous mother who wanted him to stay at home and look after her. He messed me around until one day i decided i was too good for him and never wanted to see him again. That was five years of my life wasted.

  What you see is what you get, well not quite ,these days there might be more going on than some people think. When i went to School we learned to do things on paper with a pen or in our heads, there were no computors i do not even think they had been thought of, still some of the older generation have moved no furthur than the chat rooms and a regular group of people, they have not heard of blogs or anything else, infact some of the much older ones think that the computor exists for nothing else but to chat to there friends, set up for them by there son or somebody they know.

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    Kids stuck in a warzone frustrated and helpless to do anything about there plite throw stones at soldiers so they get put in chains and treated like violent criminals. All these kids have seen in a life time is violence, they have lost loved ones just because of war how are they to express themselves and show how they feel about it all except to use what they can, stones, to attack the ones they see as causeing them so much pain..

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   If you have not had your home broken into, your car stolen or been mugged in the street you are very lucky.  Only the other day my neighbours house was broken into i was on edge for days before it happened i some how knew some thing was going to happen. My dog had shown me that some one had tried my garden gate, the door bell rang and nobody seemed to be there ,i had seen a youth walking the street with a mobile and a grin on his face, could be he was not up to anything but i was getting bad vibes. I have had my home broken into, my cars have been attacked, and i have been mugged. But not here, this place is a friendly quiet peaceful little village it just never happens here at least not until now.

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  Copyrights to the poetry on this site belong to me you can use the poems but not claim them as your own.  All that i  write about is my original ideas and work and not copied  from any  where else if it coincides with any one elses work it is purely by accident.

   We do not realize it but we are all brainwashed influenzed by some thing or some one into believing some thing that is virtually rubbish. Like the TV telling us that they now have an even better Daz washing powder than the one before, but infact the one before washed whiter than white so how could it be better than that. The now new chocalate flake that tastes out of this world where infact the only thing different is that they have reduced its size and changed its wrapper.

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  I think more should be done for child cancer patiants.

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  Mothers waved goodbye to there sons they would probably never see again, there hearts were heavy they turned to work to ease the pain. The lads had know choice but to join up there was no "I do not want to go", if they were fit as far as could be seen, they went. Many not as courageous as they pretended to be. They knew they might never see home again or there own mothers face.

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     One of the biggest achivements in my life was to over come the miserubul set of circumstances that war forced me to have to live with, another story.

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  Did  go through a period in my life where i ate too much of all the wrong things and drank too much but i got a grip and made my way back to taking more care of what i eat and cutting drink right down. The amazing thing is its true to say you do not feel any different as you get older its only when you look in the mirror that you are shocked into realizing times running out there is no time left to lie in bed and wait for tomorrow. There is no better time than right now before its too late.  You will not notice time changing you its so sneaky a thing it is  a slow  process you get on with your life and just look in the mirror one day and there is that person you do not reckonize and have to get used to living with.

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    As a kid my stepmother made a habit of taking me to funerals  i had no choice but to be dragged along.  At the age of sixteen an aunt died in the house with cancer and was laid to rest in the front room for the traditional three days. My step mother spent harf her life in hospital where i was left with my dad to look after me, he could not cook so i did all the cooking for us, i was ten the last time. When i was thirty my dad was dyeing with stomach cancer and a collapsed lung i was marriad with small children, to a violent man. My step mum had a major stroke and i ended up spending my time chasing from one part of the world to another in between landing up in hospital with broken fingers patching them up myself and driving to the nearest hospital with my kids to see if anything could be done about it telling nobody what had happened ,if i did it would be all the worse for me,

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     I am still keeping quiet about this blog to people i know because i feel i let  down a lot of people telling them before, only to get reports back,. "can not get into your blog", followed by an aol report to say, "sorry your server is broken and we will repair as soon as possible". When it did get repaired it broke down again.  One blog i spent a lot of time on setting up with pictures and lots of colour i was very pleased with it, it was the poetry site i wanted but the same thing happened again.

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   I sympathise with down- an- outs, tramps,the homeless. Anybody could end up homeless for many different reasons. Some times people make themselves homeless because its the way out of a bad situation. Some times teenagers take to the streets because of family conflict the streets hold more comfort than the key in the door, sad but true. Rather than looking down on them i think they should be looked up to because they are making a stand against whatever is messing up there life, they refuse to put up with it. As an eighteen year old i took myself of to London i had a portfolio and wanted to be a model.

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   I will add on some of my previous blogs and favourite sites.

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  Boy i look miserubul on my photo Lol, its not a posey one anyway. But i will replace it with a better one if i can some time.  When you get to my age how you look is a lot less important unless you spend your life in the public eye then of course its different. A few years ago my looks mattered i actually liked what i saw in the mirror now i do not so i am not keen atall on being photographed and it shows but my partner said to me thats not a good one of you ,and i am glad i do not care, its nice to reach a stage in your life where you do not care about your looks

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   Is it right or is it wrong.?

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  I have been writing poetry since a small child and over the years many have been published here is one i wrote in the early days of my poetry life. enjoy!

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  Onto a sober note.  In the past women or some have seen hysterectomy as an answer to one or two things and surgeons have been ready to perform the operation i am glad that now there are alternatives at least in some cases.

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   You must have all read about Dorothy Evans the eighty one year old sent to prison for harrassment. Can somebody that age cause so much trouble, thats not saying all old folk are angels even if some seem to be. Never the less its a tough one for a woman that age, a prison sentence, dont you think?  I wonder what she did so bad to end her days probably there.

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 On this site i have trouble downloading pictures. This time tapping on image i found myself on imageshack my picture came up on there and then i could not retrieve it.  Tried to sign in there with my email address only to be told  sorry must put in genuine email address so sorry blog hi! my beautiful pictures lost for you to enjoy. I am disapointed.

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    My trouble is i prefer animals to kids. I would like a large house with a conservatry where i could have a dozon dogs,ponies. I would fill the place with animals. Some might say im a nutter well i admit to being a bit eccentric but i do not see that filling the place with animals is anymore barmy than filling it with dusters,china ornaments,teddy bears ,beer mats, elvis things or anything else people collect, at least animals are companionable, what does a few dozon beer mats do for you, sweet f.a. Lol.  As for kids if you you do not enjoy when there small forget it when there older they have there own lives.

  Why is it that we only wise up about things when we are older. Values change and we see things in a different way.  What we might have done ten years ago is different to what we might do now, we see where we went wrong.  The one biggest mistake i ever made was marrying the wrong man. It should be harder to get marriad and easier to get divorced.

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    Well here i am again sort of wondering why. I have told nobody about this blog because i wanted to be sure i get the thing of the ground before i do. I find blogging is like a kinda therapy where you can let rip about anything you like. For me it fills a gap where i get bored painting and writing more serious stuff.  I get bored talking shop on chat programmes and i do not want to know all about some body the first time i meet them or see there face i want to know who they are first, i want more depth to a relationship.  I get fed up of the men who see any woman as nothing else but a lump of meat to put it politely.  And if your looking for nothing else but a friendly chat and not looking for sex or trouble there must be some thing wrong with you at least thats what some think. You say hi! and get ignored, they talk between them selves "where did she come from"? All too pleased to get out of a room like that thanks, i want to go in a room where there is a welcome to anybody new.  But i will not let that sort drive me over the edge and i hope nobody else will they aint worth it,there nobody.

  I looked in the mirror and what did i see that one looking back can not really be me.

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  You stood before me hair so fair not a word just a silent stare.

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    A dirt track led to the cottage is was lit up by the sun.

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  I called upon an angel and sent her to you to stay beside you in all that you do.

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  If your looking for happiness you do not need to look very far

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   Blood and gore what were they fighting for, there is no winners in war.

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  I do not know where the words come from every single day.

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  I do not know where the words come from every single day.

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We never stop learning. life seems like forever when your young then you marry have kids and look in the mirror one day and your old ,believe me it happens before you know it.

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   Where are they now all those i once knew. Some have gone to America,Canada,Australia. Would love to see you all again.

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