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Jain Gawne

Updated: Sat, 24 Oct 2020 12:53 pm

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I'm a 55 year old mum to five, grandmother to 8. I've always considered myself to be a painter, but very recently felt the urge to write, and that writing came out as poems. Up to now they are almost all based on my past, which was at times difficult. I find that writing about it helps greatly. I'm also autistic, and I think this goes some way to explaining the way that my mind works. I suspect I come from a long line of autistics. And now I've just reread my poems, I realise that I'm quite a bitter person at times, quite twisted, and probably not very nice at times. Although my children and grandkids would probably beg to differ. I've had time to think so I'm changing a few of my pics to more relevant paintings. The pictures that accompany my poems are all my own works.


My poetry is rather crappy It's not designed to make you happy In fact it's rather the reverse Depressing and at times perverse. Sometimes I like to make it rhyme And other times it feels just fine To end with a non rhyming line Like this. Or that. Whatever. I'd love to write all flowery But pretty words don't work for me My eyes don't hear the jingly bells Or see the pretty fairy dells I only write what I have seen The nasty and at times obscene. I tell a tale of misery A tale of woe and poor poor me. I wish that I were more poetic Less self obsessed, more empathetic I'd write a dance for you my sweet Fill you with joy, a luscious treat To playfully roll off your tongue A fruity sherbet of a song. A tale of love and fun and laughter With words like happy, ever, after. Fluffy clouds and bunny ears Instead of death, abuse and tears. I write of sadness, childhood traumas Neglect, abuse and abject rawness. Past and present both combined, ridiculously intertwined. Scored into flesh for all to see The pain, the hurt and misery. It isn't half cathartic though To write stuff down, to let it go. To you it may seem self indulgent Such self pity, quite repugnant But words once out and freely spoken Lose potency, the spell is broken. It's when the words have not been said And torment rules inside your head You can't make sense of all that sadness All that badness, all that madness. And so I write, to free my brain Of overwhelming hurt and pain It may not seem that way to you But it helps my mind to feel anew To cast out bad thoughts, make more room For future joys, the sweet perfume Of memories new, the next great chapter A hopeful happy ever after. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I loved you once I think You swept me up in a cyclone of romance and fear Excitement and charm And control. A romantic threat across a crowded room On lined paper I love you, but if you ever shit on me I will break both your legs. You loved me! And I loved you for that. They say love makes you blind. And I was blind I could not read the flashing signs And I was deaf I did not hear the warning bells. You loved me so much You chose my clothes And styled my hair And I felt special. You moulded me into a woman. But bit by bit I disappeared The girl now long gone The smile now long gone The friends now long gone. Replaced by car crash bruises And broken bones And broken dreams. And as my world grew smaller My fears grew larger. I left you a thousand times But you always found me And I took my punishments on the chin, And on the arms, And on the legs, And wherever you could lay a punch or a kick. Then from nowhere I grew strong I carefully laid out my plans And hid them from you. Bruises became bricks And I built a wall So high you could not pass And then I was gone Never to return.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Audio entries by Jain Gawne

A poem about my lovely husband, Rick. (06/01/2020)

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Sat 11th Jan 2020 13:20

Full frontal nudity
is not only accepted
but is permitted
and encouraged!


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Jain Gawne

Mon 6th Jan 2020 17:58

Thank you so much Po! What a lovely welcome!

As soon as I've done the tea I'm going to sit down and read everyone else's works, including yours. I never realised before how much I needed poetry in my life!


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