Moving house

Is meant to be one of the most stressful events in life

 

Yay! You’ve moved into your new house at last

Congrats are surely due

You’ve got through one of the most stressful times

That life can throw at you

First the viewings, up to four times a day

Rush round, tidy and clean

Ram things in cupboards, get rid of the kids

But no one seemed that keen

At last thank goodness a buyer was found 

So you bought your new place

But wouldn’t you know, your buyer backed out

Now you were in a race

It was lucky a nice family came

And bought your house instead

Now it was time to do all the packing

For moving day ahead

When the removal van didn’t turn up

Your nerves were rather frayed

But the neighbour knew a man with a van

Who then came to your aid

Of course the estate agent disappeared

When you needed the key

And there you were surrounded by boxes

…but which one had the tea?

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For World Refugee Day

As a journalist I remember interviewing a victim of torture from Iraq. It was one of the more horrific interviews, but at least he was helped…

 

Where is your home?

I don’t have one

Why did you leave?

I had to run

What happened there?

I would have died

How did you reach us?

I had to hide

Your family?

They were all shot

What do you own?

Me. That’s all I’ve got

What do you want?

A job. No fear.

What’s your one wish?

 

Can I live here?

Paul Dacre, Editor of the Mail

After 26 years he’s standing down

 

So the Editor of the Daily Fail 

is finally leaving his post

Over the years I wonder which group 

his paper has offended the most

Single mothers, lgbt

Every ethnic minority,

On benefits? Cheating parasite

Career woman? You should be contrite

As for Brexit the Mail made it clear

They didn’t want more immigrants here

Backed by lies it states its nasty views

Full of hate and rage instead of news

It holds Prime Ministers in its thrall

Too scared to speak out or they’ll get mauled

Dacre’s moving to editor-in-chief

So nothing will change. Expect more grief.

As it’s deaf awareness week

A thank you to the Scottish Implant Centre, teachers of the deaf and everyone who has helped us. And shame on all those who tease my son and call him ‘a deaf xxxx’

My son was born profoundly deaf
He couldn’t hear a sound
Even if you banged on a drum
He wouldn’t turn around

Imagine what his life was like
A soundless world is bleak
It’s thanks to cochlear implants
That he could learn to speak

Without his two processors
We’d never hear his voice
He wouldn’t be in mainstream school
He wouldn’t have much choice

He wouldn’t listen to music
Or the sound of the sea
He wouldn’t hear people laughing
How a whole life could be

Today we celebrate science
And every one of you
Who has helped in any way
We give our thanks to you

 

It’s ME Awareness week

Another year and she’s still in pain every single day with only her four bedroom walls for company

 

I’m lazy they say
It’s all in the mind
It’s just that I’m not really trying
I’d like to get up
I’d like to go out
I’m too tired to even be crying

It takes all my strength
To get to the loo
Although they thought I should be at school
To get some fresh air
To still have a friend
Wouldn’t that make my life just so cool

If I go downstairs
Or even get washed
These are times when I’ve really done well
I pay for it though
The following day
When my muscles and bones ache like hell

Yes I look ok
I talk, even laugh
But with this illness, symptoms aren’t seen
My mind is just mush
Words come out all wrong
I’m nothing. Just a broken machine

It’s been five years now
I’m seventeen you know
All you go through in that time has gone
The doctor told me
There’s no cure for this
There’s a chance it’ll go on and on…

When you have ME
Then your suffering
Is the same size as dying of AIDS
Except that for me
It won’t end in death
I could feel just as bad for decades

 

Oh dear, oh dear

What have we done?

 

Are you an inee or an outee
Or perhaps you have changed your mind
I’m talking of course about Brexit
The dearest divorce you will find

How stupid that when we all voted
We didn’t know how it would work
Right wing activists did well
You could see from Farage’s smirk

Though forty nine per cent aren’t happy
The government pushes ahead
The leaders of Leave long deserted
A cause that fills many with dread

We can’t say the EU was perfect
But at least when Europe is whole
We are all much stronger together
I think we have scored an own goal

Opioid crisis

Doctors must stop giving them out for pain

I’m a drug addict
My dealer is known
He’s a consultant
And he’s not alone

They’re giving out drugs
As if they are sweets
Saves us getting them
By working the streets

You wouldn’t know it
From looking at me
I’ve no needle marks
I seem quite carefree

Except when I’ve none
Then I go quite mad
That’s when you would see
My life is just sad

I take Fentanyl
Prince died of that drug
Opioid crisis
Yet GPs are still smug

 

Let’s celebrate

International Cochlear Implant Day – the day of the very first implant

 

My son was born profoundly deaf
He couldn’t hear a sound
Even if you banged on a drum
He wouldn’t turn around

Imagine what his life was like
A soundless world is bleak
It’s thanks to cochlear implants
That he could learn to speak

Without his two processors
We’d never hear his voice
He wouldn’t be in mainstream school
He wouldn’t have much choice

He wouldn’t listen to music
Or the sound of the sea
He wouldn’t hear people laughing
How a whole life could be

Today we celebrate science
And every one of you
Who has helped in any way
We give our thanks to you

Own up

Do you doctor your selfies?

 

Do you use a photo app
To make your face all smooth
Do you erase your wrinkles
So we don’t see the truth

Do you give yourself a facelift
So you have perfect skin
Or even change your body
To make your legs look thin

So your pics on Instagram
Are not the real you
And all your posts on Facebook
Give your ‘friends’ a fake view

Don’t be scared to be yourself
Don’t give us an ideal
It will be a disappointment
When we see you for real

Just a reminder

Of what can be produced4you now. But we have more in store for 2018.

 

A birthday or new baby
To say sorry or well done
Anniversary or wedding
Or say ‘I love you’ to someone

A few lines for a card
Or a poem to make mum cry
A best man’s speech in verse
Or a leaving do good bye.

It can be funny or sad
Any length, any style
Personal, original
I’m really versatile

Just tell me who it’s for
With lots of information
And I’ll compose a one-off piece
It’ll be a real sensation.

Just get in touch and tell me
What it is you need
And I’ll produce4you
A fantastic gift indeed.

 

Oh Donald Trump

Remember the one I wrote when he was first elected? I had to add another one.

 

It’s the first week of the year and the nonsense has begun
Trump is boasting his button is bigger than Kim Jong Un’s

This is a stable genius who’s very, very smart
Aren’t we glad he’s President so the world can fall apart

Let’s hope he gets impeached and is sent back to Trump Tower
Because it’s quite scary when a lunatic’s in power

Happy New Year

This blog is devoted to personal poems and opinions. I’ve covered abuse, mental health, daughters on social media, the ignorant rich, pressure on women’s looks, terrorism….

Thank you to everyone who has liked a poem or got in contact with me after reading one.

For cards, poems and speeches go to the Produced4you website: https://produced4you.com

or the Etsy shop: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Produced4you

You can also get in touch with me via my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/produced4you

Happy New Year!

logo for cards jpg

What if…

there were no Christmas

 

What if there were no Christmas
Except in the Christian sense
A service in church that’s all
The changes would be immense

How much money would you save
And think of the time spent too
Buying all those cards and gifts
Just before the sales are due

And what about the worry
Will everyone have good fun
Will Uncle Frank be too pissed
Or the turkey overdone

All those with other beliefs
And those who are on their own
Wouldn’t feel quite so left out
That they are just home alone

No trees in lots of windows
No tinsel or twinkly lights
No tacky signs and snowmen
Just normal, everyday sights

No over-excited kids
Ripping wrapping paper off
Disappointed with their gifts
Then the family fights kick off

Instead it would be peaceful
You could watch a DVD
Don’t wait for that speech at three
Or the usual crap TV

No New Year greeting of debt
No extra pounds you must lose
No broken toys discarded
Nothing but the winter blues

 

For all young ME sufferers

On Young Hearts Day

I’m lazy they say
It’s all in the mind
It’s just that I’m not really trying
I’d like to get up
I’d like to go out
I’m too tired to even be crying

It takes all my strength
To get to the loo
Although they think I should be at school
To get some fresh air
To still have a friend
Wouldn’t that make my life just so cool

If I go downstairs
Or even get washed
These are times when I’ve really done well
I pay for it though
The following day
When my muscles and bones ache like hell

Yes I look ok
I talk, even laugh
But with this illness, symptoms aren’t seen
My mind is just mush
Words come out all wrong
I’m nothing. Just a broken machine

It’s been four years now
I’m sixteen you know
All you go through in that time has gone
The doctor told me
There’s no cure for this
There’s a chance it’ll go on and on…

If you have ME
Then your suffering
Is the same size as dying of AIDS
Except that for me
It won’t end in death
I could feel just as bad for decades

 

Such a shame

On you

I haven’t heard from anyone
Not a visit nor a phone call

I can tell from years of silence
No one cares about me at all

What happened to communities
When people looked after the weak

They took in food for those unwell
Instead of treating them like freaks

Hey! At last! Nice of you to come
And there’s my family ahead!

Sorry if I’m a little numb
See, that’s what happens when you’re dead