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Survivors Poetry aim to publish and promote poetry by survivors; supporting and developing survivor poets and establishing communication networks; making connections between creativity and mental health. This blog contains notes from contributors to the survivors network.

Wendy Young woke to a ring of pink hue and was taken aback, on discovering mornings were great

30 July 2013

Blog

Masada Sunrise

Sigh, July, Why? You see a pink circle of light Surrounding the City Reminding you when you felt whole at last Raking a cotton field in the Haifa Valley Feeling part of it all Surrounded by the hills And watching the sun rise like a giant pink grapefruit Spreading and colouring the earth At last waking up - it only took 20 years! Good to be alive until the humidity hits And you sink into a drenched sweaty office Praying the cool morning will stay - like you did back then - trying to...

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Dave Russell introduces an eloquent poem by Wilma Robertson on the prejudices faced by people with ME

30 July 2013

Blog

drawing of a bald head with lots of rooms pictured inside the skull

This is is the fullest expression of the problems of ME I have encountered in poetic form. Though it is a widespread phenomenon, it is played down by the medical profession. It is often dismissed by the general public as hypochondria, as an excuse to avoid activity and responsibility. In the poem, Wilma emphasises the point that many people with ME are dedicated, hard-working souls who shirk nothing. 'Thoughts' gives articulation to the marginalised and silenced Thoughts Sometimes we...

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Wendy Young was blown away by Time Attendant and Sarah Angliss at the Horse Hospital on Friday...

22 July 2013

Blog

Sarah Angliss plays Theramin

Oh what a night Friday 20th July 2013!  I was blown away by Time Attendant who seems to have a link to my solar plexus...I bought his EP on the night and 2nd track 1st side (Wisteria Albion) made me cry, it's music to die to.  Sarah Angliss is a robotic and music electronica personifica!  In the cosy atmosphere of the Horse Hospital I felt at home watching her play a multitude of instruments (including a saw), operate robots and do a sweet version of Popcorn by Hot Butter...

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Anthony Hurford shares his experience of Survivors' Poetry

21 July 2013

Blog

watercolour depicting a yellow rod and a green serpent

I’ve always loved poetry, but have been woefully bad at knowing that, not to mention getting to know it. In fact part of my survivor journey has been about realising I love it and how important it is to me. Mad eh? Some people around me dismissed it and my liking for it, and most of the people that didn’t seemed quite clear that it might be beyond me – not everyone - but then it gets complicated, my lack of connection to it may be part of how I came to be a Survivor. Anyway, I...

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Wendy Young is thinking of her mother's dignity, the dignity of nature and wants to share a poem about her late Mother, Jenny, inspired by a robin singing in the darkness against all odds...

16 July 2013

Blog

Empty Nest

...who fought and fought but in the end was let down..I wish I could have her back to tell her how amazing she was. A Bird in the Dark As I walked home from familiar Hospital grounds, sounds of thrilling song, stopped me in my tracks Echoing all around Holding me in awe was A little bird so vulnerable But clever to hide And strong enough to drown Hospital trolleys Striking stone floors And the shouts of a teenager so into himself Hidden in a tree Singing above it all Little bird you reminded...

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Wendy Young's Ghost Leaves and Peat..

5 July 2013

Blog

Frosted leaves

 I don't know where this poem came from but probably embedded in my subconscious on a walk when I couldn't take a dying tree home so a poem is homage to the sadness of dying trees but the wonder of nature to rise up and live again.   Ghost Leaves and Peat Frost making frosted edges frosted veins Making ghost leaves Freezy cold water making arsicles of us washing our bums in the stream in winter Birch bark shed like a silvery snake leaves slivery Peat dry and soft...

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Wendy Young is Swung Low!

4 July 2013

Blog

Pendulum swings above victim

I do a job which consists of helping people, tasking for superiors, and general dogsbody to ease their stress when what I need is all of that, those, this? Here's a poem I read at Survivors one night....and keep going back to!! Swing Low Sweet Iscariot The pendulum that’s been swinging above us Has neared the time of decision And come to cut off our heads It’s sliced at our necks It’s scalped us slow Swung us high Swung us low Jargon junta munchers Wafting Business...

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