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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Procrastination of a Compulsive Scribbler

 

Sorry, it’s a long one!

When I started this blog, I had big plans – I still do but I am finding that I don’t have enough time to read and comment on everything I want to (who does? Your eyes would be all over your face!)

This week, I’ve been procrastinating. I had a bit of a software meltdown but am getting there with the book. I’ve got MS everything takes me twice as long to do, I’ve got no energy. My husband does loads around the house, shopping etc but out of some warped fear of losing control I secretly try and do everything. Except it’s not secret because I drop stuff. Last week I had a smashing time with one of those fancy bowls, and a rogue pair of garden shears fell and punctured a can of beer (check me out – I can’t open the under the stairs cupboard without beer flying everywhere!) Wednesday I went to hydrotherapy – which is swimming with a physiotherapist (not the same thing as swimming with dolphins) I forced myself into my tracky pants and set off home, in the lift I felt all funny, the ‘whoosh’ of getting to the bottom floor made me dizzy, why did I feel funny? Turned out I had left my walking stick upstairs, there ensued a frantic search, a lifeguard’s dinner break was interrupted, I was fussed over ‘sit down, are you alright?’ My stick was in the toilet cubicle, how embarrassing! When I got home, I found I was tidying up, sorting things out so that I could have a clear head to write my next essay for my degree, on the Benin bronzes (BTW the next person who asks my why history is covered on a Creative Writing degree is off the Christmas card list, after being swiftly referred to the Open University module leader) . So after a day of procrastination, the following day produced no first draft of that essay either… (before you read the next bit, please be reassured I love my daughter loads, but she’s not a morning person)

Daughter : ‘Mummy! Mummy! I need change for the car park!’

Me : ‘I’m on the loo’

Daughter : ‘I need it now, I need to go to college!’

What I wanted to say : ‘You are twenty years old, you are a trainee accountant, please try and be a bit more organised!’

What I said : ‘Ok I’m coming, it’s alright, I went to the loo yesterday!’

When I got downstairs, I found daughter (same person who needs to leave RIGHT NOW) playing with puppy Martha, who had been playing outside rolling in mud. Sort puppy out, go back upstairs (I’m bursting now). In the bathroom, daughter is turning her eyebrows into twins – not sisters.

Daughter : ‘get out! I’m in here’

When she goes downstairs, I hear her shouting ‘Why did you buy sparkling water?’

What I said : ‘because I like it!’

What I said under my breath : ‘When are you moving out?’ (I don’t really want her to)

She sets off, I go downstairs to find all my tidying up/procrastination from the previous day ruined.

What really happened : Daughter was looking for non sparkling water bottles, and accidently dropped one bottle, plus packets of crisps were mysteriously strewn across the floor.

What I imagined happened (in a Victoria Wood style spoof documentary) : Daughter : ‘What I like to do when my mum has been on one of her OCD  tidying days, is ruin it, just for fun… crisp packets on the floor… no still water I like, so I’ll wipe my mum’s off the shelf… It’ll give her something to do! …

Later on, I thought I had a tummy bug (just a few sentences of essay had been written by this point)… husband comes home early… he has a tummy bug too! This has never happened before… In all the years I’ve known him… and we’ve never been ill at the same time… on checking Daughter, she is fine, although a bit dehydrated (only joking, she’s capable of buying herself a drink). Could it be the romantic meal he took me out for on Valentines day? Are we allergic to oysters? Does it take two days to come out in your system? No, we’ve decided to blame Martha puppy and her jumpy lick your face habit. Eww.

The flowers are from husband to me, he had dropped them off earlier in the day at the place we were eating, so that I would get a nice surprise when I arrived. Aww, I asked him why, he said ‘you like cheesy things like that’ … Awww…

I got a fab review on Amazon for my only book currently on there, this has encouraged me loads.. plus I got my results from my last essay 78% check me out with my writing flukery! (must stop making words up)

I promise to get round to writing… next week! Off to do a bit of reading now, plus one of the cats is meowing angrily at the back door…

Happy writing, Samantha

 

 

 

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Black Friday

It’s all over the news and TV adverts again… it’s that time of year! After I wrote this poem, I thought that a ‘proper’ writer would have said something profound about Black Friday. The end of November craze that sweeps the nation, borrowed from our American cousins. Anyway, here is a poem I wrote two years ago… Enjoy!

 

I heard all about it on  the morning TV news

“People herding for discounted widescreens”

I should’ve queued up but just missed out

of forty percent off and a smack in the mouth

retail therapy with no right to return

all these shoppers had money to burn.

Chaos, greed, excitement is pulling me in

No where to park, getting pushed to the ground

people are looking as I can’t get around

made up  though, with  my big pile of loot

GHDs an iPhone and a new pair of boots.

I get on the web to spend, spend, spend.

Packages in the post

Fragile, please don’t bend

Champagne lifestyle and lemonade pockets

what of it?

There is steam coming off my credit card bill

they can’t hang me for it , I’ll leave it in my will.

I think I might be in a lot of debt

what did you buy then? Oh, I forget.

Samantha Henthorn 20142013-06-24-18-58-38