Update 2003: I am also now a Shorelink Community Writer and I compile events as the Hastings Community Correspondent for The Argus newspaper, Brighton UK.
I've been Published within magazines, periodical's, newspaper's 1980 to date. I've participated in talking newspapers and phone-in chat shows on local radio.
My Poetry also can be found within anthologies, newspapers, talking newspapers for the blind - America and United Kingdom. Awarded Editors Choice Award for "outstanding achievement in poetry" 1994, 1995 National Library of poetry, Maryland, U.S.A. Radio - live broadcast's on various hospital radio stations in the 80's, including Southern Sound (now Southern FM) in the United Kingdom. About 3 years ago, I recorded my experience of acute glaucoma and it's operations for the Hastings Talking Newspaper, in the South of England.
Since May of 1997 I have been progressively getting used to reciting my poetry at the 'open mike' with an organization entitled 'Other Words'. This has helped me immensely. My hobby since the 80's has been to create my own shows. I absolutely love music and song. Having come from an entertaining and musical family this lives in my soul. I would one day love to find songs being sung with words that I have created, yes, I am trying my hand at lyric writing also.
Within my ability is the story of a lifetime and one day, I hope that there will also be novels that I have written on the bookshelves, word tapes, yes I feel strongly about this, due to the fact that I am registered partially sighted, and well on the way to becoming blind. I also have a hearing problem, and hand problems, but I will not let this deter me from seeing the beauty of the world published for others to take into their lives.
Within the film and TV drama, maybe in the future, like many others before me, you might find what I write and perceive will also appear on screen.
So, with this year 1998 - I hope to complete a collection of my own poetry, and continue with my novel, and even complete some short stories.
My dream - to have my own recording studio and publishing company so that what I have strived for within my life could become reality.
©1998 JOSIE LAWSON
All Rights Reserved
josie30@btopenworld.com
Maybe.....
I am me, you are you Are you me? or are you you? Makes you think! Maybe...... We are nothing except humanity - Pieces of matter and electricity.... Trying hard with our brains To survive this sorry land! Our mental state tells it all For we are unique poets to tell - We tell the stories that no-one knows For the hierarchy hide the tale.... They show to all the good they do... and yet! Still people are in poverty.... I am me, are you you? Or are we just a surge of electricity! Trying hard to make ends meet, To find, the peace, the beauty that was meant to be! I am me....are you you? Have we a chance? Who can tell, only humanity! Are we just nothing? You see..... We were nothing until a seed was born and then we were born with nothing, and then we try to survive with nothing, But we try...... Some make it, some don't Some become disabled, some die, But the people who try with honesty Die sometimes through honesty But others, they help humanity! Is this not worth thinking about? ©February 8, 2000 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved
josie30@btopenworld.com
Beauty of Emotion
The butterflies are jumping around like little nymphs - they are finding the beauty of emotion so like a harp that sings through the air - The thought of those butterflies bring great joy of satisfaction, of comfort, and yet, the emotions are like a brilliant great star that shines at night - And the thought of those butterflies cry out - they see an emotion like that of a seahorse, curved, with the most beautiful little face, of coral that comes from the sea - an emotion - a picture of beauty that must be seen - Those butterflies - they are like a delectable taste of wine - They find a beauty so divine and yet - they bring so much joy - a new way forward into another sphere - another journey - The joy of the butterflies have come - they have opened the beauty of emotion that is like an ocean - fluttering - Like the wings of time - waiting - waiting For what is to come............... ©1998 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.com
Reflections
Souls in reflection, searching for perfection, Will never find beauty with perception. Souls taking time in our world of deception, Will find peace a beautiful time for reflection. The beauty that arises from a shaft of light shining, Brings a truth of time and reflection, Imagine yourself rising to a place of perfection, And you find yourself losing perception. As you sit on the beach, as dusk is drawing nigh, Your heart starts to sing with peace and joy, Away from perfection, away from deception, Away from heartache and deprivation. You then begin to see the beautiful land and the sea, The moonlit night that seems to set you free, And you find yourself fluttering like a bird in the sky, Leaving all that hurts you and let it go by. Your heart then awakens, and your soul sings again, And you find a beauty inside, For without time and reflection, peace and perception, Your soul wouldn't find moments to be free. ©1998 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.com
Emotions 1
From when time began, They began, Mind after mind, Interludes of extreme, Emotions began. From day one, They began, When was that? History time, Interludes of extreme, Emotions began. Cave men, Cave women, Emotions - Neanderthal man Interludes of extreme, Emotions began. Emotions You followed us Mind after mind, Hurt after hurt, You followed us And made us believe Interludes of extreme Fantasies live Emotions Sadness, happiness, Love and distress Interludes of love Do they exist? Well, I know my heart exists, Even though it needs a kiss. ©7.1.98 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.com
In Response To A Happening In The Shopping Mall
Into the shop full of lovely clothes, Gosh, I wish I was slimmer, All different colours and shapes to see, Gosh I wish I was slimmer. Into the shop full of lovely clothes, I wish I could afford that one, All those coats, those lovely coats, At least I'd fit into one of them. Into the shop, into the shop, Into the shop I go, Into the shop, into the shop, Into the shop I go. Into the shop full of lovely clothes, My sight seemed to diminish so, So I decided to turn and walk out you see,. But bounced off a glass door I couldn't see. Springboard Mary is my name, You'd never guess would you? But always you know, when my sight gets worse, A glass door becomes a springboard for me. I could have ended up in heaven you know, But instead the embarrassment came, "Alright, yes, I'm alright, my glasses seem alright" But I walked out like a beetroot in a jar. I could feel the pain upon my face, My glasses they seemed all bent, I went to the opticians, for them to check, After straightening, they seemed alright. Confidence decreased, but I still walked on. Into another shop I went, Not a thought did I have, for those clothes right then, Except for the yellow man in front of me. He stared at me, as stiff as could be, With a red stop sign on his neck, I thought this is great, I could see that man, So I thought, I must go and tell them. "Are you OK?" they said to me, And we had a little laugh, But had I been elderly, or even ME, There could have been quite an accident. I may have sight loss, I may be going blind, But, I have the right to see, A door that's glass, or made aware, That the door is situated there.. So perhaps the people who run that mall, Could make the place a little safer, For sighted people, and even people like me, With not much sight at all. ©8.1.98 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.com
Directorship - Hell
Tears, health, fear This is what this world likes to adhere Directorship - hell What do I want this for Tears, health, fear Trickling droplet against my face Directorship - hell What do I want this for Tears, health, fear Seeing, walking, bang into a door Directorship - hell What do I want this for Tears, health, fear Cringing inside of a world thats not fair Directorship - hell I'll show them what's for ©1998 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.com
Gone, But Not Forgotten
The day was raining. The hearts of many were sad. The cars were due at the house. Black limousines. They were to start the journey from his house. >From her fathers house. The house she grew up in. Had tantrums in. Had fun in. Blew up balloons in and cried in. The house she had spent many a day in her bedroom writing. Writing her thoughts. She never knew that this day, this day would ever happen. To lose her father. So deeply she was crying within herself. So deeply. A knock of the door hurt her. He had arrived. Her father whom she had thrown herself on. The coldness of him, The rubbery feel of him, "Oh dad," she cried within. She walked from the house. She had blackness about her. She had the shadows of time within her. It was her dad. The person who had laughed and joked with her, who had chased her, who had frightened her, Who had loved her. He was there unseen. A coffin laid so serene within the limousine. A car of black behind it for them, for her, For to take them to the cemetery. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. She was grown, and yet she felt like a child. Her dad, the dad who was an artist. Her dad who used to sing, to play musical instruments, To take photo's, to do everything. But most of all. He was her father. Now gone. Taken from her. Taken to the gates of Heaven. Away from pain. Away from suffering. Away on the wings of a dove, to a place. To a place unseen. And now, here he was ready to drive his last journey. A journey to a little chapel in the cemetery. To a service to honour his memory. She could feel the tears well up within her. And then as she alighted the car. The limousine. She felt the rain. Was it rain? or was it tears? travelling through time down her face to her chin. Was it the droplets of teardrops she could feel? or the rain? She was so numb. The coffin. The brown coffin. It was there in front of her. Was her rose in with him? Was her poem in with him? "Oh, dad." The service was lovely. A peacemaker the Reverend said. He was certainly that, she thought. He loved her. He wanted the best for her, and above all, he respected her will, her love of writing. He encouraged her like no other. And then it happened. They were walking through the muddy green of grass, Over the slope to where a hole was, To where the coffin was to be lowered in, To where her father was to be. To be cold. To wither. To be amongst the dust of the earth. To rest. And then she realised. That her father was a Christian. He had been laid on the table in the Chapel of Rest with a gold cross, a beautiful gold cross. She knew he was a Christian, and yet she had never seen him go to a Church of his faith. But he did, he did go in a Church the day she left home. But she didn't want to think of this. Her moment was here saying goodbye to her dad. But it wasn't goodbye. His soul had flown all those days ago into the heights of Heaven. To a place where there is peace. The prayers were over. The rain was getting heavier. The smell of the aroma of death were upon all of the family. The sadness was so extreme you could feel the hearts of many pounding like drums like the beat of a pop group. But she could not feel her own. She could not find the tears anymore. She found peace instead. And then the cups were chinking away. There was laughter on some faces. There were tears on others. The family together like the way they had been years earlier. They were seeing her father out of this world. Her father that was flesh and blood. Her father that gave the seed of her life. Her father, whom she loved. Gone, but not forgotten. ©1997 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.com
Down Memory Lane - A short Story
The letter done for the magazine, I felt better, as though I was cleansed of all the burden. I decided, now my life begins. No more men in my life. My name is Gabriel, I am a painter when I feel I want to be, I see all these pictures floating through the sky. Lovely big clouds make me think of the snow in Switzerland. Trouble is I've never been there. And then there are the drains that have the rain running into them, I sometimes wonder if there are rats walking about, I'm just not going to go down there to find out. "Hey, Gabby, want to take a walk down memory lane," "No bloody way, I've been there before, it's caused me too much blooming heartache." "I'm going to keep walking without the stupid heartache in my life." "Spoil sport," Roger said, "but I can understand." Roger was an acquaintance I'd met him one day in a coffee bar, quite out of the blue, he was crying his eyes out. A man crying his eyes out. He wasn't very good looking, he didn't appeal to me in the least, but there was just this something about him. He had a cap on, he looking like a tramp, something was pulling me towards him, "Excuse me, are you ok" "Not really, I've just found out my brother was killed in an accident, he was so young. He used to love abseiling, but he fell - it was so high......" "I'm so sorry," "Don't be, I'm only joking - I liked the look of you when you walked through the door, I thought, that's a bit of nice stuff." "You...." "Don't be mad, I just thought it might break the ice." "It sure did that," "Fancy a milkshake," "Well, I don't know, I have this art class..." "Oh, go on, I want to at least exchange names," I sat down - we shook hands and that was it. One day Roger phoned, he was the life and soul of the party touch, "I've been drinking Gabs, I want to stop, will you come round," "Oh, Roger, you haven't." "Yes, a whole bloody gallon full of water to make me go to the loo," I could feel myself giggling, he made me laugh so much sometimes. "Shit, damn that bloody bone, can't you ever hide it somewhere where I won't trip over it, you stupid mutt - " I looked into his eyes and felt so sorry for saying that - I put my arms round him and hugged him while he was asleep, he'd been such a mate since Ben had gone. My friend Dog. I decided that my life was going to be brilliant, I was going to go places - but something was dragging me back always - it was like a blooming magnet force - so powerful. There was me dangling in thin air - hanging outside a window on a sheet, me skirt - well, I dread to think, and a cross grabbing me as well. I went to that cross - and prayed real hard for me to get well. "Gaby, whats this I hear, you going to Church. "Yeh, anything wrong with that, I've been saved." That did it, another blooming bloke out of my life. "Doesn't anybody believe you can be saved these days, well I sure as well do," I shouted across the road to all the passers by. This was brilliant, I sat in the Church, I looked up at the stain glassed window and saw a picture of Jesus, and prayed for not taking my life when Ben died, and for me helping Roger when he cried. That did it, was my time going to come, me a nun at last. "Hey, mum, Jaimie shouted, you been on the radio yet," "Don't talk stupid, what would I go on the radio for," "Don't you remember, you recorded that poetry you wrote," "Wh, that, well, don't know, I'm not real interested Jaimie," "I'm an artist, not a writer." "Aw, mum, you know you write well," my confidence was shattered when Ben died - he blooming won't leave me alone - why can't I just shut the damn door, Jaimie seems to have done. The weather was so beautiful when I went for my walk over the hills that day, it was so peaceful. I'd just about had enough of the past - so I went up, sat on the grass and looked to the sky. Well, you can guess what I did can't you. I said, Lord, look me in the eye and tell me one thing, what the bloody hell have I done to deserve being thrown in the rubbish with Ben, he was bloody stupid doing those dirty things. Please forgive me for these sins Lord, but you know, I'm respecting you, I'm thinking, I'm writing my thoughts when I can, and I feel this way, justice must be found. Now can this case be let to rest without the truth. Ok, his mother said, he was in the clear, but was he? I felt better for that prayer and got up, and looked at the beautiful sea on the horizon, it was glistening like the sun - I'd always loved the beauty that Gods creation made. As I walked towards the road a car drove very fast by me - took me by surprise - "Hey - watch out," the bloke shouted. It was Roger. "How are you these day," "As if you cared," I said. "I'm sorry Gaby, there's something about me you just don't know, its my work, I'm a copper." Shit, why the blooming hell am I attracted to coppers. "I was undercover when I was drunk with the water that time," "Oh, funny ha ha, you weren't drunk with water, it was the wine at the communion that did it," But still, he got out and gave me a hug. The man in the car with him got out and shook my hand. "Nice to meet you, I gather you're an artist from what Roger has said." "Well, not really, just love seeing things and painting them, I even write them sometimes, just as an idiot really, takes my mind of the real world, when life gets me down." He looked in my eyes, and I could feel an attraction. I felt something I couldn't place, trouble is he was a copper. Blooming coppers again. I was relaxing watching the tele one night, Billy Connolly it was, he was making me laugh so much, when the phone went. Drat, I thought, always when I want to see something. It stopped, I didn't answer. If it was important, they'd ring again. The show finished, I was pleased - I felt good having been able to escape the realities of life. There ut was again, the bloody phone, I was in the bath this time, persistant I thought. Anyway, this time, I got out of those beautiful white bubbles I'd been soaking in, put my dressing gown on and answered the mobile. It was there in the bathrom with me. "Gaby," "Yes, can I help you." "It's Roger's friend, just thought you might like to meet for lunch tomorrow," "Mmm that would be nice - where?" "Well, thought I'd take you to the burger bar, and there is this lovely sweet I think you'd like," "What's that then, a doughnut warmed up with loads of ice cream." My taste buds began - and I said "Yes please, where shall we meet," "What about I call for you." ©1997 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.com
Today
Confused is my mind - a new day come - A thought to ease my ex's mind - But in turn, he confused my mind - Divorce papers in my hand - given by the courts - A copy I gave to him - like my solicitor said - Before Christmas this took place -and so I looked at his face - Asked if he'd got his papers yet - "No - my solicitor said They are waiting for your solicitors to say " Well, I'd already said that my solicitor does nothing else - he can find out from his solicitor - he confused my mind - Just as before - just as I used to live - just when I could take no more - Well, I phoned my solicitor - you could hear her agitation - See, it's always me - that people get mad with - Not because of me - but because of what others say - So, he phones me back - he's been in touch with his solicitor - Yes, they have the papers -It is finalised - all above board - he will get his papers - About time he realised - that perhaps if he listened - not only to himself - but me and perhaps others - I would not be confused in mind -and perhaps we might still be together - Brainwashed - thats what I was, Brainwashed from his mind And now I'm gone, well, I won't let it happen, although - its hurt me inside When did this take place? TODAY My mind, confused no - but upset inside, confusion sets in When he tries to make me see, that I am in the wrong Many years I lived this way, many years of going down hill Many years of tears and fear, many years of by the sea Many years of needing to be free Divorce set in, through illness, fear, and tears And now that I am free, I can walk on But, he will never set me free , You know why? Cos - I care you see ©1998 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.com
Our Homes
It was lovely getting up in a new day dawn, To hear the birds singing, see the sun glaring, To see the mass of green, hear the cars in the distance, The dawn chorus is so beautiful, why dont you take time to see? As I look across the houses, see the architecture of the different styles, I then begin to wonder, about the people inside of them, I think of me, sitting here, writing this, my words I earlier perceived, They are like me, also wondering, like you today, as you read or listen to these words. We are, dont you think? an intelligent species on earth, Remember way back then, the cave people, Neanderthal man, Weve come along way into the way of intelligent thinking, I wonder what the year 2000 will bring, bubbled domes and maybe bubbled homes. The years they come and go, emotions and beauty too, The sun it shines no matter, into the hearts of many, I am but a Poet, that can write words of what I perceive, But it is with my thinking, that others can perceive. What do you think? my fellow people out there, Are you glad there are intelligent species like us here, You know at least with our thinking, fantasies can live, Smile, its great fun, they bring you alive. We can climb way up into the sky, and fly like a dove, Sit on a unicorn, hold onto its horn so we can roam the universe, We can even dive into the sea, find a dolphin or two, See, arent we intelligent, our minds, are OUR HOMES. So as you sit and think about these words that I have here written, Remember, that life is worth living, no matter what circumstance, Sit and drink your cuppa, or listen to the radio, Drive along that roadway, as you make your way home, and remember, Im glad I found my home, Have you found yours too? ©1998 JOSIE LAWSON All Rights Reserved josie30@btopenworld.comPoet's Index
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