Pit - Stops

Good evening all,

Thank you all so much for visiting yesterday and reading a little of the old me. I thought  would lighten the load this evening with a recent post I placed on Face Book. I had this idea after the chaos of a school run one morning this week,  on 28 January 2014.
Hope you enjoy reading it as I enjoyed writing it guys. It's entitled Pit - Stops <3

Pit - Stops

MY LIFE IS LIKE A ROLLER COASTER. 
UPON WHICH I RIDE. 
BUT AT EVERY PIT-STOP A FRIEND OF MINE RESIDES. 

THEIR HELP'S UNIQUE TO EACH OF THEM. 
THEY SHARE MY LAUGHER AND MY PAIN. 
THEY ARE THERE REGARDLESS AS MY RIDE BEGINS AGAIN. 

BUT WHEN I GET A COFFEE BREAK. 
AND STEP OUT FROM MY CAR. 
THAT RIDE HAS STOPPED AT YOUR PIT-STOP NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE!

SO ON YOUR RIDE OF LIFES DOWNS AND UPS.
WHERE EVER YOU MAY BE.
REMEMBER THIS DEAR PIT-STOP FRIENDS.

YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME.
Written by me for all of you.


© By Helen Stallard  January 31  2014

Coiled

I wrote this five years ago after a long standing situation within my family unit, that was rectified.
It helped to pen how I felt and has since helped a dear friend of mine express how she felt to her family ... she struggled to convey her feeling, used Coiled to explain. It was a great result and now I share it with you. Let me know what you think please. It is a toughie, but then we all struggle sometimes. Just know you are not alone.

Coiled

Stress and pressure building, as seconds trickle by.
While lusting after this - this solitude - that eludes me. 
Resting thoughts in the creaking hinges of my mind.

Avoiding the welcoming faces of those who will off-load more, 
More, into your already spilling bags. 
Bags, so engorged by your slow undoing 
They will carry no more. 
Sapping the energy out of your muscles, 
While your peers, sap from your very essence.

Desiring secret corners in populated places. 
Makes you succumb to your selfishness. 
You! 
You who are selfless … consistent! 
‘All-knowing.’
How dare you feel this boiling cauldron of emotion! 
When did exhaustion become your enemy? 
How could you let it get this far and do so little to help yourself?
Why? 
Because you the ‘doer’ were engulfed in being the person they needed you to be. Wandering blindly and stumbling senselessly, 
Hoping uselessly that someone, 
Anyone ... would see your strain, 
Hear your silent cry 
And hold out that helping hand. 
Oh that they could be all knowing, 
Selfless and unburdening enough to care ... 
Care for you, during your hour of need.

Still you won’t, will you! 
As your heart tightens and you loose your grasp on reality, 
Your pressure builds and the gauge hits red.
You begin to uncoil. 

You’re like an over-wound clock. 
That’s ticked its way to explosive bliss. 
Reddening, you recoil,
And, like a capped geyser, 
Out it gushes! 

Every emotion, 
Every thoughtless act, 
All your pent up anger, 
Soaking, like poison into your tongue. 

A tongue, held in the same mouth. 
That speaks words of love entwined with reassurance. 

That tongue, will soon calm. 

Returned ... more disciplined to its owner,

Re-sprung, that tongue will hold tight.

Until the pressure builds. 

Until ... next time.


By Helen Stallard
January 30, 2014