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I've escaped, I've walked out,  from the strange mystery home
Im free to wander, the old places I'll roam
That man calls me brother, shouting my name
I'll shuffle away, what's his silly game
These keys in my pocket, now where is the car
How did I get here have a wandered to far
This fog in mind, the thoughts not firing
I'm sure to remember, shall I keep trying
Fred at the new...

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Old agedementiaendings

The One you Used to Be

I want you to be

The one you used to be

Bright and fresh

And forever drinking tea


I want you back again

The one you used to be

Bright and bold

I want you back with me


It breaks my heart to see you now

Not the one you used to be

Now your thoughts are dulled with age

I wish I could set you free


I’ll always remember you as you were

The one you use...

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I'm Me! Can't you see?

Do not forget who I was -

Who I am!

I awoke in the womb

Then moved to a pram!

I learned how to toddle

Then stumble 

Then walk

Then, as my parents found out

I learned how to talk…

And talk!

I laughed in the sunshine 

Made daisy chains too


Does anyone recognise 

This person in you?


In teenage years 

There came the drama

As my parents tried to...

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Last Walk

Lizards scatter with small stones

as he trips up the mountain road,

kalderimes are too bumpy now.



He's been here before

a thousand feet above nut town 

where crumbling churches 

send peels of God down 

to the sea. 


He's been here before.


'Are there cicadas?....  I don't hear them.'





White scree falls recall…

sodden sum...

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She walks a marathon distance each day,

passing people she has known for years

now unrecognizable, vague, like shadows.

She no longer engages with them,

struggling to distinguish between the faded faces.

She retraces each step, regardless of the weather -

always dressed for it. Back and forth.

The same handful of routes trodden in sequence.

The same street corner where she...

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old agedementialost memorieslost yearslost treasuresAlzheimer's

Awaiting Bliss


I'm no longer me, she said


Later, when clouds passed by

Her mind went with them

She discovered it, sometime later

in a jar upon a dusty shelf

In a room unfamiliar

Where Time had nibbled away

at the glistening softness

to leave a part of it missing

But she wasn't to know

It was others who relayed it

In sympathetic stares

And, enforced, Mona Lisa smiles


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The Withered Vine



I watch her slowly

 fall from grace

Her body still

Her mind displaced

New memories 

no longer stay

they simply  


drift  a w    a         y

Like a mist around

a mountain old

that dissipates

as the dawn unfolds

She's there in body

but sparse of mind

Sometimes it's hard

to seek, and find

The vibrant woman


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Old As Love

strange things go through my head

my mind has been to distant places

days merge blindly into each other

lately I've lost a memory for faces


just how long have I been in here?

unlike my head my cock still works

wild fears roam like buffalo and yet

in my pants an untamed tiger lurks


the matron omits to cater for that

they seem past it most of my peers

yet my r...

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oldlovesocial caredementiacockoral sex

Skip Hire

Moved in, hired a skip

In here time stood still

Dealt with the daughter

Her dad gone, taken ill


Bathroom has lead pipes

Ceilings tobacco-stained

Window timbers rotten

Wet-rot well-engrained


Valuers took the quality

I'm left with foisty rugs

Sixties-style bric-a-brac

A zoo of domestic bugs


Fifty years in this semi

Kids married, wife dead,


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skip hirebric a braczoosemihistoryiron springsdementia

Her Last Dance

The fading embers of her mind

Drift away to a long-ago time
To shrouded visions of some young girl
A time of wonder, a world to unfurl

Through fields she would dance humming a tune
Losing herself amidst the sweet scent of bloom
A fragrant-filled-feast for her lungs to consume
Within the wonderful freedom of nature's playroom

And as the shimmering Sun went down
She would dance throug...

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I may forget where I put my keys. 

I may forget my phone.

I may forget what day it is.

I may forget my way home.


I will never forget sunsets over the ocean.

I will never forget blessings from above.

I will never forget soothing melodies.

I will never forget the love.

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How Can I Tell You

How can I tell you that I love you?
I've said the words so many times; it's old hat to you.
I could quote Browning's poem of how she loved.
I'd say it's mine and mean every metaphor,
but you'd know she wrote it and you'd quote it.

I can write love poems just for you,
and every word I write is true, 
though I'm not adept with metaphors 
and don't use fancy words. 

I can bring valentine...

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Days of Dementia

Some days I look at the mantelpiece

Where the dust gets thicker and the cobwebs grow

I’m not sure what to do about it, you know.


Every day seems like the same day

And even though it’s sunny outside

Sometimes the clouds get in the way.


I watch the TV but I don’t always take it in

And the flickering colours and sounds

Are something I don’t want around.



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old agedementialife

Poem from One of Our New Collections

Less Than a Second

Less than a second

is the time it takes to fall in love.

             That summer night

             you walked out of the bright house

             on to the dark deck

             ready for the next day's wedding,

             already celebrating every damn thing

             anyone could think of,

             laughter floating out of your pores


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Lost at sea a battle against dementia and me

When i look into your eyes 

I know your still there somewhere inside 

And as each passing day 

Goes by I know another part of your memory dies 

But you won't remember the goodbyes and it's hard not to sit here and cry 

Because your trapped inside 

All The confusion the conclusion

That your drifting away 

Well  I know  that ships don’t stay long at bay 

And will soon be h...

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Hello my friend, welcome aboard

The ship they call 'Alzheimer's'

There's forty thousand under sixty-five

'Young onset' to 'Old timers'


It doesn't matter what you call it

The umbrella term's 'Dementia'

On the ship they call 'Alzheimer's'

Every day's a new adventure


Forget your hip replacement

And your osteoarthritis

They we...

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Alzheimer'srantingSelf-awarenessdementiahealthDark humour


She is long gone

So long I have to strain to hear her voice

Down the years

The last thing she said to me though 

Clear as day

Like the sun through mists of dawn 

‘Oh Janey’

An unexpected heartfelt sigh

Two words could not contain more depth

For she was lost to me long before

She left this earth

Or so I thought

Until the parting of the clouds

So brief

To gi...

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The Last Night with Grandad.

The sun bows, outside the window
Clouds don a shade of black.
In a dimly lit side room,
Bulbs flicker. Hope turns its back.
Clock hands stack the seconds.
Eyelids straining with the fear
That in the hollow of my dreams
You’ll disappear
With the wave of a gloved hand
Under a pristine white sheet.
I trace the wrinkles, map the dimples
Painted upon your fading face.
Until sleep seduces me

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Far Away

Maybe it’s those absent eyes,
gone searching for their better days,
that give away your hide and seek disguise
and tell me that you’re far away.

Are you back in New York,
chasing that old American dream
through the concrete foundations
on which you built our family's beam?

Or are you in Wigan’s Central park,
in Billy Boston’s Empire State,
watching Warriors paint the town red
then p...

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Mother's Ramble

The wood shuddered and every eye
listened at the stair behind the wall

The door opened and slowly
a black felt hat followed by a long black coat

a black handbag and two black shoes
emerged turned and quietly closed the door

In her eighties she was still a mountain
crumbling now but not yet turned to dust

Lips quivered her moustache. She smiled
uncertainly at these strangers in her...

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White Field Green Sheep

White Field Green Sheep

he's gone wandering again yon down by the river
she think fear knows when the dog come back
with lead and red collar but no four fingered hand

the special is up calming her down nodding
whilst them as nosey agree to casually look 'afar
as they brave twice daily rain on the school run

he's gone yon again wandering lost int' a river
of landmarks and place names ...

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Dexteram Patris

Dexteram Patris

seeing him that way,
and she,
ever supportive,
gently touching
his arm
for reassurance

but there is a failing,
something not the same,
although in looks
we are so similar.

The Prodigal returns
and sees his father,
straight of back
and stern of countenance,
falling to pieces.

The once proud frame -

and she,
as beautiful as always,

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prodigal sondeclining healthdementiafatherfavourite chairrichpixright hand of the father

Re-Winding Memories

Re-Winding Memories


Beeching has been at work in her brain.

Branch lines are closing. No train

of thought as tracks disappear

in a tangled undergrowth where,

tearful, she  loses hold of time.


"I must get back down the main line

before the wrong sort of memories

cause wheels to lose their grip.

I'm sliding back to nowhere fast.

Wasn’t I your mother once?"


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Help me - help me please

The old lady shouted "Help me, please help me"

Sitting in her chair she was

wrapped in multicoloured shawl

refusing to elaborate


She couldn't see and couldn't hear

Refused to have her hearing help

Continued shouting "Help me help me"

"Won't somebody help me please"


Yet every time I tried to help her

Shouts vociferous and rude

Decrying all that...

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