HO HO HMMMM ...

By Boakesey

Childhood Christmases:

It snowed every single year – or so it seemed.

Santa always knew where to find me, bringing just

one simple gift, plus a tangerine and a piece of coal. It was

all I ever got, all I ever expected – and I was grateful.

Christmas lasted 12 whole days. No more, no less.

It didn’t run from August through to Valentine’s Day.

It was a religious festival, back then.

Instead of ancient pagan Yule, the Western world 

celebrated the arrival of the Christ child in His innocence.

And I celebrated, in mine.

By the time I reached double figures, innocence obliterated.

I’d got to know grief and trauma and childhood abuse.

Just like countless others. Far too many.

Things we were all too young to comprehend.

Things that continue to haunt us, forever.

Christmas was more and more commercialised

Parents conditioned to buy this, buy that, buy everything…

Children to want this, want that, want it all…

Purchases not needed. Gifts never used.

Paid for on the never-never, credit trap.

Spirit of Christmas subsumed by consumerism.

But this is not about ‘poor me…’, I promise.

Adult me, has never really grown up.

I’ve spent decades hiding from the world

as the C-word draws near.

Withdrawn into myself -

like that young lass on the telly

I’m conscious in a conch shell.

Every sung carol triggers memories.

Takes me back to where I dare not go.

I’ve rejected all the varied flavours of religion

All failed to save me in my times of need.

Now, I do my best to be good without a God.

Still, this is not about ‘poor me…’, 

I swear I’m not trying to spoil your fun;

Put a damper on the festive season.

I’m not a killjoy, grumpy Humbug or a Scrooge.

The opposite is true – enjoy yourselves!

But remember there are those, like me

Who cannot enjoy Christmas for good reason

And trying to force us only makes things worse – 

So, leave us be to heal our festive hurts.

This year, I’m trying something different.

I’m going to venture forth, to Ramsey town.

Find other lonely people, folk like me.

We will be alone. But alone together 

with our various challenges and fears.

It’s time to stop living in a past that’s full of pain

Let’s make new memories to treasure for years to come.

Look forward to the future and with Hope.

I wish for all of you the best of Christmas

And Blein Vie Noa for 2025.

Nollick Ghennal!

NOTE:

Blein Vie Noa – Happy New Year in Gaelg – Manx Gaelic

Nollick Ghennal – Happy Christmas

ARTIFICIAL EARTH

By Emma Follett

This is a safe place,

no one can get you

behind the blue paper curtain,

locked doors and high fences.

Trapped with an unoccupied mind

and a death wish.

Stalked by a killer,

outwitting the survival instinct.

Desensitised caregivers

challenge and encourage,

with their disbelief 

and brick walls.

"You're lucky to be here,

beds are scarce."

"There's nothing wrong with you,

and this isn't a hotel."

Restrained, dragged and dumped

on the street, with nowhere to sleep.

Hippocrates betrayed, unchecked power

tortures for sport.

HOW?

By Milena Dimitrova

How do you write about that which eats you alive

How do you describe in words the pain which burns your brain

How do you explain the debilitating prison of your mind

How do you even begin to talk about

The infinite weight pinning you to the couch, to the bed

How do you paint the picture of invisible chains 

Which hold you captive in the solace of your rituals

How do you let on

That every single facet of life is utterly horrifying 

How do you behave so that they understand

You are not a spineless human being who has surrendered control

No, you are fighting the biggest of battles

You can't NOT be in control

How do you let go and just be

When you can't separate the worry and the pain 

From that which you call "me"



OF TROUBLED MIND

By Anonymous

Of troubled mind and broken heart,

And craving death should play it’s part,

She sinks depressed in the abyss,

For the love of those so deeply missed,

Gone now the bonds of family ties,

They will not forgive and so she cries,

Each day the pain grows worse and worse,

This gift of life turned into curse,

I cannot help for as much as I care,

No help exists for a life so bare,

I try to shine that hopeful light,

That oft is soothing through the night,

But she cannot see as if struck blind,

By her broken heart and troubled mind.

I pray long and hard the passing of days,

Will ease her pain and clear the ways,

For she must struggle on and not give in,

To that tempting thought of that mortal sin,

I ask for help from those who should care,

Am ignored like a beggar at whom we all stare,

I understand not what delivered such hate,

From those who abandon her to her fate,

Yet she feels no anger no desire to blame,

She just wants them back they’re her inner flame,

Her reasons to exist have extinguished her fire,

Leaving her lonely and cold with just one desire,

To check out of this life no longer take part,

No more troubled mind no more broken heart.

ABOUT THE POEM: This is a poem I wrote back in 2020 after my wife attempted suicide for the 3rd time. It tries to put into words how she was feeling at the time, and my incredulity and frustration at my total lack of ability to help. My wife is thankfully still with us albeit still suffering with mental health issues.

INERTIA

By Nivedita Karthik

I sit down,

weighted by nothing.

The air, itself a leash, 

pulls me into the chair.

The to-do list glares at me

its edges curled up in a mocking grin.

But then, tasks don’t care about feelings, do they?

Inside me is a muted sort of gray,

the gray that paints everything 

in sameness.

I get up. The first step.

This first step isn’t at all strength.

I stand because motion is, sometimes, 

the only cure for stillness.

I move - 

a half-hearted shuffle

to meet the day.

Each task completed

is a brick laid unevenly.

But it is still a path. 

ABOUT THE POEM: "The generalized blah feeling, the one of a sort of mental fog that grips us and makes it hard to do want to do anything is something that I have felt quite often. And yet, I soldiered on, as not doing so may have led to a state of high-functioning depression. I have tried to capture this through this poem."

ABOUT NIVEDITA: Nivedita is a graduate in Immunology from the University of Oxford, and an accomplished Bharatanatyam dancer, has contributed to numerous poetry magazines and anthologies and has two poetry books to her credit.

Instagram: @its_nivedita_k

UNSPOKEN

A poem for those struggling to express

By Lana

Words form together 

Then they float away

Jumbled, uncertain

Sentences won't stay 

Attempts made to shout

Deep rooted thoughts 

Expression is lost

Silence reinforced 

Seconds tick slowly 

A minute has gone 

An hour, a lifetime 

The days just roll on

Pain etched on the face

Frustration untold

A life of silence

A world lived enclosed



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