A NEW PUBLICATION:
MODERN WORKS 2020 ~ 16 – POEM 14
To celebrate the launch of my NEW booklet containing 16 diverse poems and essays entitled : MODERN WORKS 2020 – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy and FREE worldwide delivery. All but one of these 16 pieces are BRAND NEW WORKS completed during 2020.
This latest collection of written verse – MODERN WORKS 2020 – comes in the usual edenbray-pamphlet A5 format and is printed professionally and beautifully in a 36 page booklet style publication with a cream-stock card cover that I have self-published to my own specifications.
I am able to offer my 2020 Annual of Verse at an opening price of just £7.00 inc. post and packing for shipping to literally anywhere in the world. So please use the PAYPAL Link below to make your purchase or you can contact us by leaving a message in the comments box at the foot of this page or please email me directly at:-stepheneede689@btinternet.com – I would sincerely appreciate hearing from you and we will make sure you get a copy of my new book/pamphlet and also keep you up to date with any developments regarding my work. – (please indicate if you would rather NOT receive emails concerning my work when you order)
PAYPAL LINK – TO ORDER YOUR COPY OF – MODERN WORKS 2020
https://paypal.me/SeedProducts?locale.x=e
Many thanks ~ edenbray
Finally, to Celebrate the launch of my NEW BOOK I am posting all 16 poems over 16 consecutive days RIGHT HERE on my edenbray-BLOG-SITE B – TODAY – the Poem – IT’S A BAILEY – SANDALS: ~
. . .
MODERN WORKS 2020
by edenbray
. . .
- This picture shows me a few weeks after the bonfire incident with my older brother Martin still nursing bandaged feet due to the burns I suffered
its a bailey .. . using no traditional punctuation sandals
.. . and while we are on the subject of mothers did i mention that my mum mammy mater mother mummy was the best ever ◉ for children growing up in the fifties the mother father parental pairing was still the accepted norm within pretty much the whole of western culture ◉ in british society the mothers matriarchal position was still paramount ◉ as a child i was never aware of any overt sexism ◉ we just accepted the roles our parents played as distinct not necessarily superior or inferior ◉ in these stripped down personal memoirs it is not my purpose to comment on modern gender politics but simply to tell things as i found them ◉ i have some early memories as an under 5 that some find surprising ◉ for instance i can clearly remember our next door neighbour mrs iffel talking baby mumbo jumbo to me while i lay in my pram and also the softness of my blankets ◉ i can also remember queuing with my mother outside a hall behind our local swimming baths one cold day in sunshine ◉ once inside my mother collected two flat medicine style bottles with corks containing natural squeezed orange juice and a jar of virol malt extract that were supplied free of charge using ration books until they were terminated in July 1954 ◉ that fact alone places my recollection and my age at under 3 years ◉ one memory i do not recall however that concerned my mother she would often retell as it had made her feel guilty ◉ one day she had left me in my pram outside the local greengrocers and walked nearly 2 miles home before realising she had left me behind ◉ unsurprisingly she had panicked and hastily returned to find me sleeping soundly in my pram on a lazy summers day in the surrey village where we lived ◉ i never blamed my mother and grew kind of proud of her confession ◉ ironically life gave her the opportunity to balance up that spot of negligence a few years later at almost the very same spot where she had left me sleeping in my pram ◉ she had been shopping in boots the chemists the shop adjacent to the greengrocers where my mother had left me 7 years previously ◉ i was returning from primary school early one evening at age 8 years as children did in 1959 ◉ on the day in question i had chosen to walk with 2 friends through the woods ◉ i would leave them at the corner of the village and journey on alone through the park to our home ◉ as we reached the place where we normally parted we found a large number of trees had been felled quite recently chopped up and burnt in a large fire that measured around 30 feet in circumference ◉ the bonfire seemed burnt out and dormant although it had left a huge circle of white ash ◉ there were no barriers or warning signs ◉ i suppose i was showing off as i rushed into the circle of dusty cinders sending a shower of silver flakes up into the hot sunny afternoon haze ◉ my friends laughed at my bravado ◉ i rushed past the cold extremities of the fire toward the neucleus suddenly aware that my feet were strangely warming ◉ i arrested my crazy dash on reaching the centre of the bonfires residue anguished as i was aware of intense sparks of heat penetrating the cut holes in my children’s buckled sandals ◉ i glanced down in horror at my sandalled feet now nestling deep inside the silver piecrust exterior and encased by angry red and orange coals of fire ◉ small blue and silver flames licked at my white ankle socks ◉ inevitably i screamed and ran for the safety of the woodland floor ◉ i was sobbing with the shock of my personal misfortune and painful burns while my friends offered kids kind of palliative advice stressing I should get home fast while also berating me for my foolish antics ◉ easy to be wise after the event guys ◉ my sobbing continued as i limped painfully in the general direction of our home deciding to take an impromptu route through the village ◉ i was scared and had no wish to be alone so i limped painfully up the road toward where the road met the high street ◉ the junction corner was where boots the chemist was situated ◉ at this moment my mother exited boots the chemist as if on cue ◉ with her purchases completed she planned to walk home ◉ she stated later that she had been suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to turn left out the store and proceed down the adjacent road towards the park ◉ she could not explain her actions as she never used that road and it took the opposite direction to home ◉ yet she proceeded down the road and recognising the sound of a child crying she hurried to help ◉ miraculously she was confronted by her own distressed son ◉ it was a remarkable and unforgettable mother son moment we often spoke of ◉
.. . its a bailey .. . 4 december 2020 .. . edenbraytoday








.. . its a bailey .. . using no traditional punctuation

MODERN WORKS 2O20 ~ 14 – POLLOCK SHORES
A NEW PUBLICATION:
MODERN WORKS 2020 ~ 14 – POEM 12
To celebrate the launch of my NEW booklet containing 16 diverse poems and essays entitled : MODERN WORKS 2020 – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy and FREE worldwide delivery. All but one of these 16 pieces are BRAND NEW WORKS completed during 2020.
This latest collection of written verse – MODERN WORKS 2020 – comes in the usual edenbray-pamphlet A5 format and is printed professionally and beautifully in a 36 page booklet style publication with a cream-stock card cover that I have self-published to my own specifications.
I am able to offer my 2020 Annual of Verse at an opening price of just £7.00 inc. post and packing for shipping to literally anywhere in the world. So please use the PAYPAL Link below to make your purchase or you can contact us by leaving a message in the comments box at the foot of this page or please email me directly at:-stepheneede689@btinternet.com – I would sincerely appreciate hearing from you and we will make sure you get a copy of my new book/pamphlet and also keep you up to date with any developments regarding my work. – (please indicate if you would rather NOT receive emails concerning my work when you order)
PAYPAL LINK – TO ORDER YOUR COPY OF – MODERN WORKS 2020
https://paypal.me/SeedProducts?locale.x=e
Many thanks ~ edenbray
Finally, to Celebrate the launch of my NEW BOOK I am posting all 16 poems over 16 consecutive days RIGHT HERE on my edenbray-BLOG-SITE B – TODAY – the Poem – POLLOCK SHORES : ~
. . .
MODERN WORKS 2020
by edenbray
. . .
POLLOCK SHORES .. .
the slaves of causality
..
At Pollock Shores, in summer squalls
a madcap stepped across chianti walls
To celebrate the morning like a thousand eons before
where universes collide,
Coloured balloons at a kiddies party
which one to take home, which one to hide?
Mr Universe, I’ll write your name on your coffee cup
with a coloured sharpie
.
Thats blackish blue and white like the sky at night
when the planets come out to play
Some so old they are dead
some revolve around our sun
the ones who have most fun
I’ve had so many friends and then they end
people walk away, closeness can be frightening
We are not all disassociated the closer you get
the universal glow can be enlightening
.
Priscilla is an aunt who hasn’t seen a single one in days
diagnosed with a condition
She juggles with her position
concerned with a smooth transition and coprophobia
Angie ties herself in knots
struggles with procrastination
was told that she’s depressed
This led to self annihilation
which Doctor James considers a misappropriation.
.
Out under the stars Jake has discovered too late
he suffers from astrophobia
While his friend cool Harry, once caught in a lift
had an attack of the claus-trophobia
And Margie now sat on the mat
with a rare case of clinical lycanthropy
Her new life as a cat has altered her mind
to a permanent state of fantasy
.
Birdman of Alcatraz, Donnie Darko
Syd Barrett, Herman Bosch sit alone in their prison
They lost their ability to reason
like Margie was convinced she had turned into a kitten
Marcel Proust joins the debate his views
on the constructs of relationships so great
For too many souls, lost in the darkness of their minds
it maybe is already too late
.
Understanding root causes will make you less vulnerable
to future episodes, is a line that I heard
Addressing the facts with a cognitive stance
based on an intelligent supposition
A statement of truth in the context of a mental contusion
a potential psychotic delusion
Whilst the analyst constructs, in the course of time
to find a healing solution
.
Medication, pills and tranquillisers
often are the equalisers in the psyche’s restoration
the treatments for the workings of the mind
often in the past so unkind, wrought an evolution
to stave off any ridicule and pain
the victims of the shame of becoming less than human
I myself met the horrors of electro-therapy
in the face of a beautiful young woman
.
Mari Antoinette, the Shah of Abu Dhabi
Good Queen Bess, characters of minds illusions
Jesus, Budha or Rasputin, the mad monk
where imaginations ritual become the minds new spiritual
As the opium of the weird and the wonderful
may be forced upon them by the constraints of religion
This travesty becomes the more obscure
the more that politics override a natural sedition
.
Jackson does not throw his paint so much
as let it fall, he pours it all like oil upon the floor
A lottery ball, a wooden floor, a mad dogs paw,
a detective story, a what the butler saw,
The unfathomable fathomed, our reason
is not diminished, our rationale is partitioned
Jackson is confirmed by Saint Margaret of Cortona
her misery atoned, the dependants would all own her
.
At Pollock Shores I stand and greet the dawn
and the soon incoming tide.
The waves of ‘bright’ and health and healing
to mend this broken ceiling
This paranoiac feeling, like we are all just dreaming
and victims of the scheming
Whereas in fact the walls are not chianti red
but dressed in shiraz black
.
edenbraytoday 22.11.2020
. .. a poem concerning mental illness .. .
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