As promised…

My thoughts on a page.

So I promised I’d share one of the stories (very short stories) from my memoir course. I have an idea that in time I’ll write a series of short stories covering the many different events in my life to date and put them all together into one book. Some will be challenging, others funny but all will have a tale to tell.

Some of you will already be aware of this particular story, but here it is again with a little polish applied.

I hope you enjoy it. As of yet it has no title.

In my bedroom is a treasure chest. It isn’t overflowing with jewellery and gold, photo credit: michaeljoakes <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/40103937@N06/30702582003">2016.12.13</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/">(licensnor in fact is it even a chest, but its contents are priceless.

This treasure chest of mine is in reality, an old zip locked, black leather writing wallet, bulging at the seams. Nothing interesting about its cover would catch the…

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Our Pain Won’t Go Away

Walt's Writings

The pain is pretty constant now
It’s with us all the time
We just want to go to sleep
And wake up feeling fine

The pain pills take the edge off
But they don’t stop the ache
And even if we fall asleep
It comes back when we wake

Like many others that we know
We live with pain each day
And now the politicians want
To take our pills away

We must protect them from themselves”
The politicians say
We think they need to take our pain
And bear it for a day

The regulations that they want
Will only cause more pain
But they don’t really give a damn

They don’t even know our names

©Walt Page 2017

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Early morning.

This morning I found myself

Swimming against the tide

Alone, my muse not by my side

Swimming up stream

Drowning in a sea of writing negativity

Fit to scream

Then it struck me like a thunderbolt

Relax the mind, tread tentatively

With that, some deep breathing exercises

Go forward then with the task in hand

No compromises

Counting in reverse from 10

At 1, it was time to start again

So the copy book was open

Then reaching for the pen

Tone for the day now set

What was past now dead and gone?

This is now, words and I are one

Start with something simple

Not too complicated

Words won’t realise

Earlier I was agitated.

Now the above word conformation

Is laid out in such formation

To show that even in untruths

A poem can be formulated

Its state of mind against mine

Is in no way related.

(c) Chris Black. November 2017.