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I took up the guitar again after forty years during my vow of silence. And I really couldn’t have got through the pandemic alone without the cheerful accomplished music of Beatrix.

Hope you like my poem below it references some issues of my complex PTSD as do many of my poems. There are more verses but I am still tidying them up. My poetry has become more prolific but less tightly produced since the end of the pandemic. If you want to see some others of mine look for them on the AudaciArt newsletters from the pandemic. Without the help of those Audacious Women I wouldn’t have got started.

Crooning and Crying

By Patricia Goldberg ©2021

Hunched shoulders hugging my guitar
Hiding my shame,
Perched up on the prow,
Watched over by the high chimney,

Filling the firth with atomic particles.
Where are you My LHC?
Needing a hand here from Mr Universe.
Still here strumming
In the silence of the town,

My hurt is poured out in the
Twanging of Andy’s Hovis Lane song,
Calling my boy home with
Make the Gates Wide
For Christmas Tide,
To the cobbled streets of this little dale.

Why is my son rocking like a stone?
He sways to and fro like a flapping sail,
Glazed eyes and open mouthed grin
From the reinforcement into concrete
Of the wrong things.
Vanished spirit, soul, self.

What happened to me has happened to him,
And we are not happy
Nor have the happ
To succeed.

Published by simplyme841

How I got through it I really don't know, but I did a vow of silence for learning disabilities for a year a couple of years ago. I had wanted to do it for three or four years beforehand, after finding out about an Australian who did it for the animals. But the timing was never right. It was difficult but during the silence I learnt about John Francis, the environmentalist and author, who did it for seventeen years whilst walking barefoot across America playing the banjo. I had to make sure I drank enough fluids and had plenty of exercise so that my respiratory system didn't collapse, and learnt new things and read difficult books to keep my mind alert. It is very tough again during lockdown too, but immensely difficult for those with learning disabilities. I began writing my poetry last spring in the first Covid pandemic lockdown, and it poured out of me. But as you can tell from my readings my voice is still weak.

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