FGM

Momma !  Stop! Don’t do it! Momma !  Stop! Don’t do it! Her scream tore through the fraying fabric of a life already lived as a less than. Evil rose up and the women carried on, carrying on the devil’s work to parody a full life given by God  cut and sculpted by humanity. ———————————– Goodness arose… Continue reading FGM

Addiction

Shambling down the narrow lanes he carried his world,  broken long ago by words and shortages and grumbles, daily struggling  but friendly encouragers, urging use of drugs and alcohol, shoved him along the paved road that battled to bury the pain and led to a hell where, craving the numbing money, facing the beatings, and… Continue reading Addiction

Assault and despair

It wasn’t on purpose, she saw that. It was her fault and she shouldn’t have said it, and now Could her body go on taking the bruising; Her soul  the battering, And her heart the fear? He smiled his forgiveness and said he wouldn’t do it again and again and again, But she really should… Continue reading Assault and despair

Death

The impact of death. I cook something tasty most nights, he said, Treats and trials and she sits on my shoulder and tells me ‘You batty bugger!’ You should have chopped and fried til they are soft, and he goes on lightly listening to her cheery censorship which was absent in the old life, but… Continue reading Death

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Too Late!

——————————— The flowers wilt on the wracked earth, there are no buzzing bees, temperatures soar untempered, children stare out of slits in curtains closed against the searing sun. ———————————————- It was an emergency, now it  emerges change was too late. Nothing growing on the farms where water has not been husbanded. While, in the  fields… Continue reading Too Late!

Nazanin

The Prisoner   She looks through the bars, her intelligence dulled by repetition of the daily chores and cheerlessness. Tears fall as tortured thoughts of her child growing without her loving touch. a glimpse now and again never enough as someone else charts her child’s precious years.   Politicians mutter, What can her family do… Continue reading Nazanin

The Vine

The Vine   A beautiful new baby delighting the family, gifts at his baptism, no silver spoon but there were toys.   Growing up heralds the hopelessness and cruel certainty for the likes of him.   Poverty coils around his feet snaking round his ankles, tying them fast, keeping him where He is.   Guided… Continue reading The Vine

The Blue Tit

The darting cobalt blue, streak of yellow gold swiftly passes snatching tasty seed then – flees to hide, green amongst the laurel leaves which tremble and close in its wake. —– Peeping out eye bright, he fixes upon a nutty gem. The seething bush releasing a wild friend, who like a salmon leaping over a… Continue reading The Blue Tit

poverty

Begging Children at Railway Stations   She cut her first tooth on poverty, rich with its variations of pain, depression and disgrace   Her parents dead, the last resort with her brother taken in by promises weighted with threats.   He held her hand gingerly,      waiting for the next train as it discharged, distracted, dodging… Continue reading poverty

Outside

Outside.   I feel dreadful my heart is cold and empty, my soul appears to have left   and I don’t feel bereft of it at the edge is it necessary? What is in the growing fear, yawning grave breaking my ears with tears and leaving me open to my fears of inadequacy, vulnerability and… Continue reading Outside