Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts

Friday, 24 September 2010

the minds of elderly patients


In response to our new book Patience, Advance Nurse Practitioner, Fiona Roscoe has written:


Who are we to know what is going on in the minds of elderly patients as they sit dutifully in their chairs waiting for the next ward round or cup of tea?

It is a time when many are at their most vulnerable and reflective but sometimes due to disability and ill health are unable to express themselves. The artists of 
arthur+martha have patiently sat with these souls and helped them to unlock their thoughts. In doing so, not only do we have examples of unique creative art but also a new dimension in our appreciation of our most senior citizens. (referring to Stages of grief 1950 and Parachute Landing by Albert Burrows)

Fiona Roscoe RN DN MSc BSc(Hons) is an Advanced Nurse Practitioner (Primary and Urgent Care)

Tuesday, 21 September 2010

Patients reading PATIENCE

Today was our first day on the wards with the new book PATIENCE, a deep baptism. Reading these poems in the place where they first came into being, often in circumstances of great suffering, was very moving - the response from patients was powerful and generally positive, though sometimes they too were a little overwhelmed. It was as if we were finally talking about the 'elephant in the room' - everyone's relieved, but it's an awkward moment.

"It brings a new outlook from my point of view, reading this book. It makes you think of something else in life, apart from yourself. You cheer one another up." (Madeleine)

"It's terrible in here, impossible to describe. You have to live it to understand. It can help a little to hear other's experiences. A little. Please come back again and read more poems." (Douglas)

"Very good that, very true. Pass it on... It's openness. You bring things out in people, so people don't close to you... a book like this is useful to read, helps with the patience, you need a lot of patience in here." Jean


We also shared the book with staff, many of whom remembered particular people featured in the collection. As so often happens, they said that they wished they still had time to talk to the patients as we are able to do.

"The emotional side gets overlooked. Without that, you are not treating people in depth. If a patient is in the process of getting better and they have psychological or emotional problems, they won't get better as easily. To verbalise and express their problems, they feel lighter, better... If it's repressed it affects them.


Conversing with them helps. They are away from their environment, in fear. Time is a factor. Take a minute or two, take time to listen and reassure them. Reading them this book will give them an idea of what a patient can expect to go through."

(Staff Nurse Mioji Baloguh)

On E1 the Stroke ward, we read poems to patients Madge and Marjorie, they commented:

"You feel very shaky and that, not kind of with it, you can't vision yourself. This book, it gives other people something of what you feel like."


A daughter, visiting her mother who'd had a stroke two weeks ago, said:

"The book would be nice for when they start recovering and can start reading - if they can't put their feelings into their own words, they could use the book to help." (Amanda)

We hope that PATIENCE will be helpful on the wards, a conversation opener, a comforter and perhaps a communication aid as Amanda describes. There's a point when a book, having been published, starts make its own way, separate from the the makers. As we put PATIENCE out into the world, it is now starting to do just that, to have its identity inscribed by its readers.

Friday, 17 September 2010

Patience: coming into


In response to our new book Patience, Advance Nurse Practitioner, Fiona Roscoe has written:

Patience' defined as 'the ability to wait or endure without complaint'. The term suggests dignity and stoicism. Qualities that emerge from the participants in this book when their thoughts are expressed. For eg/ 'Coming into hospital for the fifth time.... (Mary Anandale)
 
Fiona Roscoe RN DN MSc BSc(Hons) is an Advanced Nurse Practitioner (Primary and Urgent Care)

Coming into hospital for the fifth time
coming into hospital for the fifth
hate to think of so many times
it’s a desperate thought
I don’t want to think it
get on and forget sadness
get on with it and remember only the
forget
who you’ve been with
where you’ve been you’re not yourself
I’m so glad that they come
I’m so glad that they come
I can’t say how often but they do
it’s action for yourself
to see someone
to see some with the same
perhaps the same difficulties
you are not alone
there are many people like you for better or worse
there are many people who like you
good people there are many
friends of myself friends of I
saw
my place
sat in my chair
saw my place sat in my chair
I can see so much from here
I wish
good
I can see I can hear.


Mary Arrandale


Anona Entwhistle



Thursday, 9 September 2010

WARD D3

Poet Steve Waling writes about visiting his mother in hospital. This piece was sent to us by Steve in reponse to PATIENCE, our collection of poetry and artworks by older people in hospital.

a bundle of sticks /// writhes on a bed
it’s hard to believe in God /// are there any crackers
mum you’re in hospital /// oh I forgot
visiting hours /// are between 6 and 8

but now you’re here /// are there any crackers
close the curtains /// is there a party next door
pull the sheet back over her /// oh I forgot
ambulance siren /// like a startled cat

it’s the delivery suite /// what’s all that banging
dissociated as to place /// acute serious infection
but now you’re here /// it’s hard to believe in
nurse wipes down plastic mattress /// when there’s such

I saw rabbits on the lawn /// I’m hungry
they should bite the bullet /// just get on with it
she tries to climb out of a sheet /// a bundle of sticks
close the curtains /// are there any crackers

the eyes don’t connect /// no but there’s chocolate
disoriented as to place /// I’ll have some of that
see God in mother’s face /// like a startled cat
is there a party next door /// oh I forgot

Steve Waling's book Travelator is published by Salt. Steve teaches creative writing, occasionally in prisons, and reads his poems in public at any given opportunity. His poems might be described as gentle experiments in intimacy, sometimes awkward and always without pretension. He writes the blog Brando's Hat.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance

Our co-worker, the poet Rebecca Guest, writes about the shared experience of making PATIENCE.

These lines occur because of company they are nothing without company.  These lines occur because as the tongue rolls a pen captures; conversations that are captured upon the page express the core of what is latent, meant.  The work is cut to bring the intensity of emotion to the forefront with the maximum expression.  These exchanges of experience are a point of contact which moves beyond people as statistics and beds - to value what it means to be human.


PATIENCE searches our existential struggle with those who are currently amid emotions of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

One difference to other poetic explorations of grief is that these people are not alone, the contributors have a scribe, to express their thoughts to.  The second difference is that participants of this project are speaking whilst in the midst of physical and mental life challenges.

The book's rawness and rich content through words, imagery, subtext and understanding is because of the unique relationship and setting these exchanges of experience take place to create PATIENCE.

Rebecca Guest

Rebecca Guest has been a long-standing collaborator with arthur+martha. She helped to set up Kindness our holocaust survivor project and has supported us during many hundreds of hours in hospital workshops. Rebecca led several sessions for PATIENCE, gathering poems and insights for the book. Her editing work on the poems helped to push their aesthetic, to let them stretch out.

Thursday, 8 July 2010

Masterful inactivity

Professor Francis Creed, Psychiatrist.

Interview about the PATIENCE book- by Lois Blackburn and Philip Davenport

There are two things I’d say about context for this book. You’ve likened the experience of illness to the experience of grief. There’s a well-recognised literature on adjustment to illness which parallels that on grief. Hackett in USA described how people recovering from a heart attack showed denial, anger, guilt, and then acceptance at different stages of their recovery. He was concerned with those people stuck in the early stages of denial, or guilt and anger or non-acceptance.

Much of my work is seeing people who are trying to cope with physical illness but have not reached a reasonable state of acceptance. There’s a lot of grief associated with physical illness and the loss of ability to do this or that. PATIENCE illustrates ways of coping. People joke, or relate their experience to someone else’s, sharing the difficulties of being ill, taking the pills and the straitjacket of drug regimes.

40 years ago Colin Murray Parkes did a study following 50 women who’d been widowed. People who were themselves grieving were shown this material and said that it helped them simply to read about others’ experiences. Sometimes a pure description of what other people go through is really helpful, without analysis. These things don’t really need to be put into a theoretical context to be helpful.

I’ve worked many years as a psychiatrist in a general hospital and patients who have difficulty coping with progressive illness are a major part of my work. Denial can sometimes be very difficult.. When a person has such great difficulty adjusting to illness confrontation is unlikely to be unhelpful but the right environment can facilitate adjustment.

I saw a very difficult case when I was at the beginning of my career, a woman who couldn’t face dying and who was causing enormous difficulties in the hospital ward, she was so upset, shouting at others, refusing her medication and blaming staff for her problem. But moving into a hospice helped her come to terms with the seriousness of her illness. It was socially acceptable to express the upset of facing death there; others faced the same difficulty. In this setting she became much calmer and ceased to shout, although she was still very upset.. This illustrates how the environment is important in helping someone to deal with where they are at, to accept disability or even forthcoming death.

The care assistant who starts your book is a shining example of care, which is probably more common than people think. He describes taking patients out for a walk, but I bet he means he also talks with them. To be able to talk about a problem is immeasurably important in being able to cope. A problem shared is a problem halved. Much of what I do is providing space to talk safely about the unsafe topics.

I guess some of your work does that too. For instance, the Parkinson’s disease poem does it, talking about difficult things to pin down. Touching on humour, or despair in a poem or whatever emotions are around – that’s why some of the poems are very good. I liked the pill box labelled TAKE TWO, the double-meaning is nice. Take two tablets, but also this is take two, a piece of music, a performance re-starting. Humour is a well-recognised way of dealing with illness.

Some people would be surprised and disarmed by their own emotional reactions to illness. Your artist might not understand where the anger in some of the pieces comes from.

Hospitals are focussed on physical illness, but in hospital on an acute ward people don’t tend to explore emotions. Some doctors and nurses aren’t inclined to open that Pandora’s Box, they are afraid it’ll take a lot of time and afraid that they can’t deal with the consequent emotions, someone breaking down in tears. However, if people are able to express what they feel, they tend to be much more satisfied with their care.

The art may be able to help people cope in this way, it’s a secondary addition which could have benefits. I don’t think it ‘fits’ in the usual medical routine but perhaps that’s a good thing. The primary activity in hospital is treating disease, treating the whole person is secondary. It’s because art doesn’t fit into routine hospital tasks that it potentially has enormous benefits. You’re tapping into the emotional part of being ill, as opposed to the physical. In hospital some staff don’t have the time to help people express emotional states; this book will open up other possible avenues of communication for some who are prepared to do that. It’s not art therapy, but it has therapeutic outcomes.

A project I was involved with helped people to cope with cancer. Sharing their concerns with a member of staff meant people could discuss ways of coping with them and this prevented depression. Now, the work you do as artists could help a lot because people’s emotional reactions to illness could be expressed. Why does it help? It might help because they’ve done something positive, gives them purpose in the day and satisfaction at the end of it. Producing something that someone admires. Might help because they’re working with other people to say or do something in a group, which counters isolation. It might be the way you deal with them as a person, with attributes that you can draw on. Inevitably, hospital staff are concerned with a patient’s symptoms and with their problems, but you talk to them about positives. These are all different ingredients that might be helpful.

This book helps people realise they’re not alone. What they find difficult may actually be normal. Others have difficulties with tablets, emotions, with disability. It’s the sharing, the I’m not alone.

Anger is a difficult emotion which may arise in the context of illness, the positive use of anger can help. Channel the anger. Channel the energy that goes with the anger to do or say something more positive. Don’t just say: ‘Why has this happened to me?’ Channel the anger. Let’s do X, or Y! Use your anger.

Getting old is to do with state of mind. Inevitably with older age you have limitations. When you get older attitude is important, the same as when suffering illness or grief. As life goes on your body changes, usually for the worse and you have to accept it. For us it is considered a kind of illness, but in Africa the older you are, the wiser you are seen to be. There are many good sides. The grandchildren like to play with us, to tease us, to spend time with us. Sit in a chair and tell a story. It’s attitude, it’s not related to age, state-of-mind is what we’re talking about. Grandparents have time. Where the parents can’t wait, the grandparents can.

The ability to wait, patience. The opposite of getting worked up because something’s not happening. The business of letting body and mind heal. Don’t do harm is a tenet of medicine. Masterful inactivity. What that means is it is sometimes best for the doctor to do nothing, to just wait and see. Surgeons are meant to be impatient, to get in and ‘cut’. Physicians give pills and await the consequences. It is joked that Psychiatrists are the most patient of all because their treatments work so slowly! Senior physicians do less for patients because they’ve seen it all before and are more prepared to let nature heal. Tablets have side effects, just need to wait not treat. If you wait, something might happen over which you have no control. Just sit and wait and see.

Monday, 17 May 2010

bear-baiting for the queen

the roaring of lions:
p ain
cuts my leg off
cuts the eleph ant’s trunk off
fullstop hyphen exclamation

the howling:
when you hear aaaaaaaaa
pain's hot horseshoe
spit on it just before the strike
it explodes raging

the raging sea:
look out at the
storm
there’s miles
between us

portions of eternity cry
you cry mainly
my wife going, going
(p ain de al with it your own way)
me in tears too great for the eye.

Anonymous

Friday, 14 May 2010

Body and spirit


Interview with Reverend Brenda Lowe and Reverend Philip Winn


BL: Patients have so much time in hospital, time to think what's important. They often worry about what is going to happen when they get back to their home, worry they don't have the resources: 'I want God to help, but I don't know how to pray.' What I believe is so deep-seated, it's difficult to explain and many patients have that faith, we share faith and they feel like family.


PW: We see the difference between people who have hope and those who don't. There's peace there. Witnessing death makes it more real. Most people don't see death that often, but working in hospital...we see suffering.


BL: The attitude: is this suffering a punishment? I'm not sure if that's faith. These are times when people question God. It can be very positive, an opportunity to bring healing. A lady who was ill said to me 'I'm feeling very cross with God today.' We all feel that sometimes. People get guilty about it and they don't need to. People in the past had an unhealthy fear of God wielding a big stick. That's not God.


A lot of elderly people are ready to go, particularly when they've been widowed, want to be together again. They're ready, the emptiness, the loneliness, is within them. Then there are people who are in denial that their relative is old. A women who was ninety-two, her daughter was saying, 'She's giving up.' But the woman was ninety-two! Sometimes the family find it hard to let go... I find it very moving when a couple - one of them is dying - and they're sat holding hands - that's what love is.

PW: We ask: 'Are you able to share this person's life with us?' It gives us a picture that's not just the frail person in front of us. Research says people have a better end, a more peaceful end, with faith - and yes that would be our experience. It's the hope, death has no fears. Can't say people aren't frightened of dying - most people are frightened of dying- but it's the journey people are frightened of, not death itself.

BL: It amazes me always, people in their last moment when we give them their last rites. They respond when maybe they haven't responded to anyone for weeks. I've had people say 'Amen', or open their eyes. People become peaceful after being agitated. This week I gave the last rites to a women with very sticky eyes, she opened her eyes as wide as a child with a chocolate bar.

Death can be a great release for families. We can help people through the journey of grief. Us being there for the families in all sorts of situations. Maybe the relative is just not wanting to leave the person whose just died, or is looking for someone to blame. We help families deal with the burden, it's not a joy, but we can help. We talk them through the 'if only, if only' that can torture them. I remember a woman who couldn't leave the deathbed because of the guilt. Our role is often simply to tell those who are left behind: 'What you did was generous and right.'

PW: We can only do our best. I don't think we can have regrets. We're good at talking about things between ourselves so they don't become burdens. We know we have to minister to the next person who needs us, and that person may just be another phone call away and we need to function, and give them our best.

BL: We're good at talking to each other and good with the kettle. We believe we have a power that helps us in difficult situations. We never know what we are going to find behind the curtain round a patient's bed. We don't know what we're going to face. Got to find strength, praying as you go.


Thursday, 13 May 2010

dementia support


Staff Nurse. Ruth Breslin

The dementia support we offer is for people of any age – here it’s given so that sufferers can stay in their own homes as long as possible, living their lives as fully as possible. At this day hospital we provide specialist assessment, nursing support and O.T activities for people with various types of dementia. We hope this will prevent the need for a hospital admission and allow relatives / carers some much needed respite.


There are many different types of dementia. Some are related to diseases such as Alzheimers or vascular conditions such as strokes. Depending on the illness, people might have short-term memory problems, disorientation, be anxious or agitated or develop problems such as disturbed patterns of sleep.


We also support people with less common illnesses such as fronto-temporal dementia which can involve very challenging symptoms such as obsessive-compulsive behaviours or marked personality changes. At all stages of the person's journey through dementia there are hurdles to overcome, for both the individual and their loved ones.


Our role is to help people understand what they are going through, and together find positive, constructive ways to look to the future. This may involve helping people to come to come to terms with their diagnosis and explore their feelings and anxieties. For example, some people may feel angry and need emotional counselling. Others may need practical support to understand their symptoms or treatment plan. Educational support is also vital. Certain dementia symptoms may require special consideration in carers; for instance, Alzheimers can cause problems with visuo-spatial awareness which affects a persons' recognition of depth, distance and what an object is. Someone with this problem might walk from a carpet onto lino and think that they should be taking a step up, when the two surfaces are actually flat beside each other. This can cause them to stumble or fall.


We also see many kinds of language difficulties. People might remember songs, or recite poetry, but be limited in other uses of words. I knew a gentleman who could recite Shakespeare in any accent you like, but his own self-expression was stunted.

Individuals can sometimes get lost in the illness and we fight that by helping them create books that tell the history of their own lives. The patient is transformed from an anonymous old lady into someone who has flown planes, who has lived an amazing life. A book like this is very valuable, especially when someone is in long-term care; it becomes a memory guide to the person and a prompt for staff. It’s an anchor for the patient and it’s a point of contact, a talking point.

You need background to understand people. Local history, personal reminiscences, things to hang a conversation on. From there you get to know them more deeply. Everyone’s needs are so different. Some people actively seek help, others are more reluctant to ask for it and we have to gradually earn their trust.

We achieve a lot once we’ve got trust. Its very rewarding to see people getting happier and growing in confidence every day.


Many people who are referred to us understand that they have a diagnosis of dementia. Because of that you can be honest and trust can then build. People start to understand who you are, they open up to you, which is vital because dementia is in the mind.....unseen, it has to be talked about before we can treat it. It is so valuable for the person to know that the scary things that are happening to them, such as hallucinations, are part of their illness and that we will work hard to find the right medication to ease them. It is a partnership.


The care philosophy we use is based on the work of the late Tom Kitwood, who pioneered the person-centred care movement. Kitwood once said that to treat people as if they were objects or consumer durables like a TV is "grotesque". But, in the current ecconomic climate, it is easy for healthcare to reduce people to numbers or statistics. Dementia care nursing has, historically, been under-valued and overlooked as a specialist area of practice. But the nature of our patients' needs and their vulnerability demands that we need more - not less- skills to work in this area. There is a lot of emotional giving in dementia care. The reality of person-centred care is that we have to go the extra mile. Our client group need people to spend quality time with them and they deserve committed, compassionate, well-trained staff who understand their needs. That’s what keeps the patients safe and physically / emotionally well. We work hard to keep the atmosphere calm and uplifting, from the music we play to the activities we undertake. We also have good relationships with the people around the client too, relatives, doctors and other health workers. Close teamwork is essential.

When people move on, we miss them terribly because we’re very much a community. We get relatives coming to visit at our Christmas Fairs, people from the past pop in to say hello. I always say: “Have a cuppa if you’re near, let us know how you’re doing.”


There are days when the job can be tiring and demanding, but it’s never to do with the patients. They keep us going on the tough days! It is the politics, red tape and paperwork that causes the most frustration.


We never forget though, that however difficult our days can be, it is the carers who have the hardest job of all. They never cease to amaze us at how they keep going- sometimes under extreme pressures and even with their own health problems. When we come off duty, we can relax and re-charge our batteries. Our carers are on duty 24/7.

Tuesday, 11 May 2010

Caring and dementia


Anne Sadler and Anne Parry interviewed at Bluebell Ward Dementia Day Centre, The Meadows, Stockport, 2009


Ann Parry

Our job? Making life a little better, making it fun.

Anne Sadler

Treating people as you’d wish yourself or yours to be treated – as individuals. People aren’t a condition, it’s individualised for all of us. As health professionals we are in a privileged position to be with these people. Carers are often talked about as the ones who have to give their personal lives, their time, their caring, and so on. But the flipside is what we get from it- we get people’s histories, lives, wisdom.

Ann

We also get their trust. Making them feel wanted, because they might feel they don’t fit in anymore and they need reassurance. We can give that, among other things. You feel better about yourself because you have given something. I’ve never wanted praise, just that the patient feels settled and enjoys the group. If I can give that, I feel better.

Anne

You might not be having a great day, but if you catch glimpses of people, it brings you back to where you are and what you’re doing. It grounds you.

Ann

What we’re doing is caring for someone. We give life. We give choices, so they can make their mind up about things. We give them our attention.

Anne

Compassion fatigue can happen, I’ve seen it. The only thing I hope for is that if I burn out that I’m able to realise, because that is the time that I give up this job. If your compassion goes, you should go. A partner can lose compassion. They have to deal with it night and day, but we can go home at the end of the shift.

Anne

We try to keep sight of the fact that these people are made up of their own lives, which they can articulate and feel, despite the dementias. We need to keep listening, maybe listening more intently to people who are unwell. I liken it to day-to-day conversations where I will listen with half an ear. At work it’s very important that I give my full attention, truly listening.

Ann

Otherwise you make assumptions and they get frustrated.

Anne

The way people behave is explained partly by knowing their history, it helps you piece together what they’re saying now. I remember 30 years ago in residential care a lady with fists clenched, shouting. It didn’t make sense at first, but then it transpired that she was bothered about something that had happened from years gone by. That was the essence of it.

People cope with dementias the same way that people cope with physical issues. They get the strength from somewhere, faced with any illness.

Ann

With dementia, as with any illness there’s some who fight and some give in. Some want to be looked after, dependent. If the carer is fed up and doesn’t want to give care then these people have problems.

In the poem written in the workshop I liked the image of dementia being a bit like getting off a bus in the rain and not being able to tell where you are.

Anne

I like images of dementia to be more than just confusion. I like them to be lighter and brighter, that it isn’t all a dark journey. That’s what I’d like to get across to the general public. TV images of dementia as sadness I don’t agree with. You always get this awful chamber music and shots of gravestones. There is happiness too. It’s not all the time, but it is there. And are any of us happy all the time? No!

If we can help channel the happiness – and the anger too - that’s our job. If we can take some of the anger it helps them. It’s not always pleasant, but it isn’t about us it’s about them. There’s a balance to be struck and people who attend as staff are aware of this. People’s emotions change as their illnesses progress. Some kind be insightful at times which can bring comfort, but at times can make them angry. “Why me?”

Ann

In the early stages a dementia can be awful, especially in young onset. People giving up jobs, big effect on the family.

Anne

Part of our job is to help people with that understanding. People can be angry, seem nasty, threatened. But it’s up to us to look beyond that. When I do home visits, very often it’s my job to help them maintain independence, not to take it. People worry about independence going.

When we talk about independence going, we often talk about this big whole. But there’s fractions of independence and they are important, little flags of independence. So for example, self-care might be very important to one person and not to someone else. Social independence – just the ability to socialise – can keep people going. If you chat to someone, that’s your choice and you’re exercising independence. A lot of it comes down to choice. It’s the same with our help. If we explain what we are doing and they give assent, then they are still showing a sign of independence.

Tuesday, 30 March 2010

all infection this sun sucks up


Had we but world enough and time it's the
End of the line for our favourite party
The jaws that bite the claws that catch
Long of face and short on patience
Hand in hand the edge of the sand
Harbours in this parched city

Hairs be wires, wires to her head
Essential maintenance for the dead
This anger lady is no crime
You’d rather be stealing breath than
Saying:
Amen to all men, amen.

Theresa Daulby
2006

atom split
David Smith 2008

yearby yearning



sitting looking out
the windowaiting
for them to comehurry up
hurry up
minutes
hours
days
it seems
forever
Pauleen Eaton
2007


yearby yearning © Lois Blackburn 2010

The boredom

the b o r e d o m
the nothing-to-do nothing-
to-do
there’s nothing real
until
company




Gladys
27th October 2006

Friday, 26 March 2010

Switching your thoughts



Whilst drawing with a patient last week, I asked for her response to the terms:

Anger

What’s the use of being miserable? Am I being frivolous? Just plod on and take what comes… get a bit uptight but not angry. If you get a bit uptight, it affects other people, you get snappy with them.

Bargaining

Switching your thoughts to suit other people, to get what you want.

Depression

I don’t get depressed, I get cross. Its hindering me and my nerves do this when things tidderling me. I get fed up but I’m not depressive. When you get fed up you get cross, when you get depressed you get miserable. All that’s making me cross is being stuck in here. Can’t be doing nothing.


Anon
March 2010

Wednesday, 24 March 2010

now my genius has gone


the brain in its
skull-like maze
now my genius has gone
it’s difficult to say
describe everything, list everything

lost everything
(want it back)
can’t remember why I’m here
memory caught in a trap
it stiffens

spaghetti maze
fingers thick
disturbed at all times
keep building roads at the end of a whip
people say they know me

I wonder at it
puzzled, caught in a trap
now my genius is some worthless song
I use a lever a little
and it comes back.

Group
speak poem
12-16 March 2010

Tuesday, 2 March 2010

parachute landing in jungle terrain



I’ve seen me whack
done me jumps
floating down Egypt Cyprus Malaya

that tattoo says in memory of Mitch
killed in Malay jungles
a tattoo that hurt me
I’ve killed and I’m not proud of it
(or they’d kill you
prisoner of war – whatcha gonna do?)

ever tried to pack a parachute?
bloody handfuls
like trying to get a bed into a pillow

they won’t let me out of here
told me straight I’m not for getting out
driven to die
very very very very
bored in the brain
so bored it’s ridiculous
bored to the ears

these wards are in lost time

landing in jungle terrain
we laugh
butterflies

what’ll we do after the war?
lost a lot of weight
don’t know if I’ll get a visitor
my wife died and I didn’t go to the funeral
I’d jump
to go as I want
even prisoners are allowed to
walk to the great door

parachute regiment I’d jump again tomorrow
you worry til it cracks out
cracks out open and you’re floating

down
down
down

Albert Burrows
Cherry Tree
2007

Monday, 1 March 2010

football



stanley matthews georgie best nobby stiles sammy much roger byrnes busby babes in packs in a set players 10 or 20 cigarettes on the back their age height history wifeswaps then in germany in munich early morn the takeoff

I do as best I can I do the journey from here to there is no different to any other journey more’s the difficulty is keeping your friends cos you cant get out the wheelchair

known as the munich crash the ground frosted fog photos of them on the runway matt busby sandy busby the son (good at spending money) when they emerged the babes were near unbeatable on £15 a week put edwards on he could cream the lot dog them clobber them sort em out

you cant get out the wheelchair and start getting angry telling the fellow where you want to go well lets say it does make you feel you’re not getting anywhere it’s just a question of administration

stanley matthews turned up at 8 in the morning running barefoot feels free blackpool sands (soak your feet in cold water you’ll walk a million miles) georgie best kidded the goalie banged it a brilliant shot but he done himself in daily brandy-soaked

you feel limited in the weight of this you’re not designing the journey the other person is I was an apprentice pro blackpool fc loved every minute gave back every penny

the footballs were heavier then leather soaked in rain describe a great god the best he was a tippler of everything two or three wives he had so many women over the weekend hundreds seen him train in the park a dangerous man a danger

you’ve got to be determined to stay alive otherwise this world will see you off falling into chaos somebody needs to mop the world up nurse sort the ends out I’m sat in a chair thinking literature I cant express

re-match: duncan edward he was only 19 in munich on the runway play was awhile ago you’ll hear them you’ll hear them a mile away no problem just a trick of the foot.

Allan Whittaker, Frank Wigley

Cherry Tree Hospital

2007

Friday, 26 February 2010

souvenir



there are a lot of souvenirs in my head
raining
the water in lines
falling
the gutters
the line going
I remember everything
an older brother
he was running

the river
boots
running through

it was raining and I remember
the planes passing over
making a boom boom boom
I’d sit on the window sill
curtains drawn in case there was a bomb
watched the children through the curtains
on rainy days

head in a fog
frustrating, confusing, annoying

it was raining and I remember the ground
wet and muddy, I had to wear Wellingtons
splash splash splash
through the
raining and I remember
the old ladies couldn’t go out
so grandma and I went to the pub
to get them guinness

your head in a fog
horrible
because you have it in your mind
but what I remember is right

remember playing by the
river and my shoes falling off and being washed
away
(I didn’t get into trouble but the other kids did)
used to love lying in bed
listening to the rain pattering the window

it was raining and I remember I was
a little devil
when I was young, when it was raining
raining in Alexandria
lightening
and then, for a month no rain
then again, rain really bad
looking out through a window
and swimming far
the fruit of the beach
catch it and eat with a spoon
faraway, the fruit
when it was raining it was raining hard
there was lovely fruit
I was mad, I was a devil swimming
taking the fruit from the rock
the fruit from the sea, rezza

raining women’s voices

branches of trees and old tyres
being washed down
even the baby’s dummy
gutters on roofs overflowing
leaves and pieces of soil run down the walls
cats and dogs
want to get inside

what does it feel like to forget?
it can be confusing, frightening
especially if you’re in the rain
like
getting off a bus
when you don’t know where you are

it was raining and I remember
Gene Kelly singing in the rain
in a musical, a great musical
Gene Kelly dancing under an umbrella as he sang
Morecambe and Wise singing
the same
funny, I remember singing at school with the other children
‘rain, rain, go away, come again another day’
raining and sunshining
I remember seeing a rainbow
remember it poured most of this summer
remember splashing the puddles when I was
a child
getting very wet
having to change and
dry in front of the fire.


Fred, Patricia, Yolanda
11 September 2009

Sunday, 21 February 2010

wheelchair



walking

an outlook

an outlet

your body don’t dilly dally

does what you tell


marbles on the way to school

for a long way flick it through

play for each others’ cowboys and indians

late at night

in the fields around farms

make dens of

long-seeming summers

in the 1940s


the first

thing is

to keep

little things adding

to a bigger step


on the fringe of farmed fields

bounded by the Mersey

we’d walk over the iron bridge

time working horses

the river a-flooded with ducks and geese

it’s all we had

kids walking the road home

was better frittered


what’s so good about sitting down?

if you’re going

for a walk

get your shoes and

go



Group

Cherry Tree 2009