How Do I Tell Her?


How do I tell her that I still love her?

Properly.

Uniquely.

Without saying the actual words

How do I find a way?

Without sounding trite and absurd

How my heart wells up for her, but another

Tired sounding cliché

Slides its way off my tongue

Before I’ve time to catch it

Edit it; put it back in my mouth

Turn up the volume and shout

“I LOVE YOU”

from the rooftops

 

How do I tell her that I still love her?

Honestly

Sincerely

Even though 2 has become 4

And affections are divided out

More thinly than before

3 girls competing for my time

Unfurls an even deeper ardour

Stronger appreciation for her

Woman; mother and wife as I pine

For her more than I have before

How my heart still yearns for her

More and more as time goes by

 

How do I tell her that my heart still beats

For her

1,000 times a day

Will always feel smart & complete

With her.

In every single way

Because there is no deceit in her

No backing down or retreat

With her.

 

How do I tell her that I still love her?

Succinctly

Passionately

Without hesitation or delay

Trust my instincts

Not worry about how it sounds

I guess that I don’t tell her at all.

Without showing it first

In the things that I do

And the way that I thirst

After her. Body and soul

Be there to console

And comfort

Encourage and cajole

 

How do I tell that…

I’m better with her than without

So I let her in before my courage gives out

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Our Little Superhero


Frail to look at from the outside

On first appearance’s she looks slight

But hidden powers lie inside

Her, borne from an otherworldly type of might

 

Her wiry arm stretches out above her

Pushing towards the sky

Fist clenched. Eyes fixed.

Cuteness is her cape

A bottle of milk,

Her Kryptonite

Astuteness will be her way

Of overcoming evil

Of taking up the fight

Against crime

Against sadness

 

With her little spindly legs

She pushes herself up

As if trying to climb

Like Spiderman

As if trying to propel

Herself into space.

Like Superman

Our superhero in training

Our very own Marvel Comic book.

Wonder Ava to the rescue.

Our own baby “Incredible”

 

Saving us from ourselves

And our propensity

For self-destruction

And endless stupidity

Just like her older sister

She occupies our time

From the moment that we kissed her

She occupied our minds

 

In that way, she has already saved us

Our little superhero from above

Who descended from the heavens

To rescue us from the push & shove

Of society and fills us with wonderment

With her coos and gaze and smiles

Her helplessness being her strength

That carries us through our trials

HURRICANE GRACE


She blows through the house like a hurricane

Leaving toy blocks; dolls; empty C.D cases

Books and tattered newspapers in her wake

Broken branches and shattered window panes

Fallen slates, that’s where our Grace is

An element of curious destruction. Make no mistake

A bolt of lightning and a flood of rain

She electrifies; terrifies and drenches us

With pride and fear. A sharp intake

Of breath, as she hurtles, like a train

across the floor, with devastating speed!

You just know that something’s going to break

She treats standing still with such disdain

Bats away your hands, with similar contempt

As you try to guide. Nothing you can do to take

The breaks off her constant drive. My heart

Is going to be broken. How can we possibly tame?

This force of nature fuelled with perpetual

Energizer batteries. We’ll never make

Somebody like her again

Our mighty Hurricane!

 

Written by

And copyright of

Ken Hume

05/07/18

AMONGST WOMEN


 

AMONGST WOMEN

 

1 mother

3 sisters

1 wife

2 daughters

3 sisters-in-law

5 nieces

Another 3 through marriage

 

“Blessed art thou

Amongst Women”

They say to me.

‘Don’t have a choice not to be’

I chuckle quietly to myself.

“I suppose I am”

Says I in return

And if not,

Then I ought to be.

 

Because it’s a wonderful thing

To be surrounded by

So many amazing women

Strong; beautiful women

And this indelible zing

They give to my life

So much incredible femininity

 

Women, they wreck your head

Get on your last nerve

Talk and talk and talk

Push all the wrong buttons

To the point of overload

And ask so much of you

More than you think you’re able for

It’s only because they care for…

You.

 

But, truth be told

Without them

There’d be no me

I’d be dead.

Inside.

For they are

The very beat of my heart

The rhythm of my day

The purpose of my life

Shaping who I am

Who I was

And who I will become

 

They stand behind each

Faltering; flawed man

Holding him up

Believing in him

When he doesn’t

And pushing him to be

Better

Believe in himself

Get off the dusty shelf

Realise his wealth

And potential

It’s exponential

 

Women…

They make the world go around!

 

Written by

And copyright to

Ken Hume 29/06/18

INVISIBLE ENEMY


Invisible

Intangible

Leaves a baby in

Indescribable

Pain.

You can feel it

But can’t see it

As it swells up

In baby’s back

That becomes rigid

In agony

She struggles and she fights

And she squeals and cries

But try as she might

All she can do is writhe

In pain.

So you drape her over your shoulder

And draw her in close to your chest

You pat him on the bottom

You rub her back up and down

Furiously

Anxiously

Whispering soothing words

In the fervent

And desperate

Hope

That you can help

Alleviate

Eradicate

Her wind induced torment

When all baby wants is

Just a little more milk

 

Eventually.

Buuurrrrpp!

Puke spews

From her tiny mouth

Onto your face.

All over the place

Your new skirt

Freshly ironed shirt

 

Sometimes I think I’d rather

Change the shittiest of nappies

Than see my baby worked up into such a lather

I think I’d be happi-er

Because there’s nothing like wind

In a little babe

To make you feel so useless

And frustrated

Than this sometimes ceaseless

Exhausting battle

with the invisible enemy

WIND.

 

Written by Ken Hume

21/06/18

 

 

 

 

Our own Daily Wrestlemania


 

Forget about ECW or WWE

Sumo Wrestling & Lucha Libre

Flying off the top ropes

Onto our screens

Piledrivers; dropkicks & chokeholds

Tombstones and sleeper holds

 

Wait till you get a few kicks

In the small of your back

A few flailing elbows

In the side of your face

From our little luchador

And nocturnal gymnast

By the name of Grace

As she carefully picks

Her moment to attack.

 

Buries her face in the pillow

Backside in the air like at the gym

Falls back on her side. Turns and tosses

Stretches out her limbs

Full length.

So you know who the boss is.

 

 

Leaves you’re doing your best

To hang on to your space

In your horizontal home

Hovering on the precipice

Of your duvet domain

With no ropes in place

To prevent the inevitable pain

Of falling off the side

Onto the floor. Ouch!!

Think it’s the couch again

For me.

 

That’s only if you’ve made it that far

For many of us are still at the point

Of wrestling and wrangling

A over-tired and curious child

Who shows no sign of going

Anywhere

Head pushed back and legs a dangling

This could take a while

Hair dishevelled and tears a flowing

And that’s just parents

Whose nerves are jangling

As we pace the floor for miles

Trying get up their wind, knowing

If you don’t, they’ll be saddling

Your lap in a while

With more wind and tv screen glowing

 

Pulling them in and holding them close

Trying to calm and appease

Our wriggling; writhing gremlins

And agitated little creatures

Who just refuse to cease

There are few exemptions

In what has become a night-time feature

 

Whispering and singing to our little mites

The full repertoire of bed-time lullabies

We wrestle with them until they submit

We wrestle with them until they hit

They hit the hay

And don’t wake…

For a few hours at least.

 

Written by Ken Hume

07/06/18

STAND UP


Stand up!

Stand up woman

Stand up man.

Stand up tall

and stand up proud!

Stand up when you fall.

Stand up for yourself

And for all,

All the people, you love

And don’t be cowed

Stand up for your passions

That is allowed

Stand up against injustice

Against the demons inside

Don’t be pushed or shoved

Or swept along by the crowd

Stand up and speak up

Let your voice ring aloud

Stand up for something

For the longer you stall

The older you get

You’ll forget what you stand for

And won’t be able stand up at all.

YOU’RE NOT A WOMAN (Typical Man)


You’re not a woman

You’re just a man

You’re not a woman

So, you would not understand

The trauma and upheaval

Of a pregnancy, unplanned

Enforced

How your emotions spiral

And your tummy expands

 

You’re not a woman

Of that this is true

You’re not a woman

You wouldn’t have a clue

Of the pain & the heartache

Of a pregnancy, stillborn

Miscarried

It’s impossible to take

Now you silently mourn

The loss

 

You’re not a woman

You’re just a man

A typical man

Responsible for all the wrongs

In this world

Trying to shut the strong woman down

Trying to keep her in her place

 

Nothing could be further from the truth

If you knew this man at all

As far from typical as you’ll get

For since the days of his youth

He has been in thrall

Of the strong woman in his life. Yet

He still gets abuse

When he tries to stand tall

And express his mindset

 

One day, woman

You’ll fall in love with me

A man. A “typical man”

You’ll give birth to me

The sexist man

Will you say the same things?

To him as you do now.

Will you wear the same wings?

That take you above us, proud.

Will you tar us all with the same brush

Paint us with the same colour

Be in such a hurry to hush

Us up and keep us down

Saying, jokingly.

“Ah, he’s just a man”

 

This man was a baby boy once

Born with a cord around his neck

Blue in the face, scary occurrence

Until his father, a man, checked

And asked the doctor to cut the chord

As this man was in distress

Just say the word

Before it all ends in a mess

 

I’m thankful today that one “typical man”

Gave another a chance at life

Cut the chord, gave a damn

And supported the ambitions of his wife

Bent over backwards to support each child

To follow their dreams and walk the road

Less travelled. So we’d be reconciled

With our true selves and never erode

Who we truly are. Thought us to smile

 

Written by & copyright to Ken Hume

15/05/18

Green Ribbon Day Mental Health Awareness 1


SIT DOWN ON THIS COUCH (With a Shrink)

 

To sit down on this couch, I never thought

I’d be here, yet this strange life has brought

Me to this place, where I’ve become wrought

With these anxieties that have me caught

In the mousetrap of crippling past vocations

Haunting my mind and stilting aspirations

So here I find myself sharing my vexations

With a stranger, a long way off from elation

 

I sit down on this couch, not to think

But to carve open my head to a shrink

And let him see inside, how I just sink

Sometimes under life’s weight, the brink

Of fragility and battened up tears

Vulnerability and fattened up fears

That I try to hide but truth always rears

When nerves are fried, breakdown nears

 

To sit down on this couch, I now believe

Is the beginning of the long path to retrieve

The sense of balance and peace to conceive

Medicine for the silence and keys to relieve

The pressure that’s been building up inside

Gets less, the more I’m willing to confide

The more I’m willing to swallow my old pride

and learn the lessons that need to be applied

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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