Eyeliner

Alicia eye

 

Eyeliner

The hallway frames the front door of my home.

Guarding me from well wishers, I need to be alone.

Seasons, styles or Saturdays, there is always eyeliner,

bold black wings from cut price to designer.

I woke the other day, robbed of my right hand.

Sudden stolen senses are hard to understand.

War paint frames my face, I’m ready for the world.

Without eyeliner, I look a different girl.

Blurred vision, a thousand texts becoming unbearable.

In her telephone voice, she tells me I ‘look terrible’

Healing time and patience all fall into place,

I’m faking being well with eyeliner on my face.

Samantha Henthorn copyright 2015.

Photo courtesy and owned by my beautiful daughter.

I love eyeliner, if my hands were working, I would be able to put it on like the photo above. I wrote this poem a couple of years ago, and it was accepted by the editor of MSmatters magazine, as yet they have not put it in print (even though they promised me it would be in the spring edition). Instead of spending time e-mailing them to chase it up, I’ve decided to blog it. The poem did appear in the Bury adult education/libraries anthology and exhibition last year, of which I was most proud.

Happy Wednesday, Samantha

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Want to Tell You a Story

20141109_111002I have a childhood memory, which until recently has been hidden away in the recess of my mind. I would have been very small, not long out of the pram, unable to read yet. One day, we visited some distant relatives- my mum’s cousin’s daughter’s cousin (or something) There was another little girl, the same age as me. I picked up a book and ran after my little fifth cousin twice removed shouting :

I WANT TO TELL YOU A STORY!”

Unable to read, I remember deciding to make the story up as I went along and pretend that it was in the book. I didn’t even get to make the story up… Childhood memories are funny things, this one has stuck in my mind because of what followed,

I WANT TO TELL YOU A STORY!”

I shouted and screamed several (hundred) times. There were tears and tantrums, the other little girl simply did not want to listen… and she was crying too by now. My mummy and daddy, and all the other adults in the room were laughing at us. Picture the scene:

I WANT TO TELL YOU A STORY!” (me)

“NOOOOO!” (little girl)

Was this my first rejection?

This happened thirty-eight years ago. Today, I received a return through the post of a short story I wrote about hydrotherapy. I hope it didn’t make the editor cry! It is important not to look at returns as a straightforward ‘rejection’ they just didn’t want it for their magazine.

This is how I look at it : When you go clothes shopping, you can’t buy all the dresses in the shop, you have to ‘decline’ some of them. This doesn’t mean there is something wrong with the remaining dresses, some of them simply won’t fit. I will now re-write this story in my own style for my short story collection.  I also received an e-mail today, to tell me that my ‘success story’ is going to be included in the Bury Adult Learning Prospectus for spring/summer 2017. Swings and roundabouts!

Happy writing, Samantha