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Chorca Dhuibhne Calls Us Back

Making our journey of renewal and promise.

Leaving a heavy London

From the diaspora back to the heartland

And meeting my companion en route

We are tired and weary from our daily tasks

Chorca Dhuibhne calls us back

Giving a heady sense of pleasure

The shepherd is home from the hill

The farmer is back from the bog

This magnificent peninsula of Mountain bog and field

Jutting coastline beaten by the powerful turquoise waves

With white water crests washing the shore

Humbles us at the power of the ocean

The vast openness of the land.

Hillside kissing the sky

Air is spun with a sensual mist.

Nearby in O’Flaherty’s pub a song is sung of Dingle Bay

In visiting Gallerus Oratory,

We explore our origins in Mesolithic period

A perfectly crafted unique stone building

Fuels the imagination to see in our minds eye

The past and the present side by side

Being in the moment versus the daily sensibilities

Causes conflict and anger spills over

But there is also the chance to speak openly…words of hope….

That God so loved us that he sent his son as a sacrifice to redeem us all.

We gradually unwind;

People are friendly not so buzzing busy

Irish can be heard as we are in the heart of the gaeltacht

Meeting old friends and dear relatives fills us with joy and sadness

Some we had not seen in 30 year

Childhood’s memories are revisited and renewed.

The lament of the piper plays Carrigfergus

Breaking bread with family relatives

I love this land and these people

And then paused in a silent moment the heart greaves

And words eventually fail us all

Joe Kelly April 2008

The University of Adversity

I went to the university of adversity

I took a BA in life skills

The course was extremely demanding

In fact it took me to my very edge

The curriculum was the very finest

And I was at the very centre of the learning process

The learning curve could not have been steeper

My graduation was my realisation

Having successfully completed the course

I am confident that with Gods help I can meet

Whatever obstacles I come across

And make more progress

This university was not my first choice.

But having graduated I have no regrets

And would encourage other graduates to fly the flag

Joe Kelly June 2005


The heart, heavy, twisted, knotted

The mind, groggy, parched, soggy

Once together, at once diverged

You wouldn't believe what emerged

This girl fell down, impact!


My goodness" you crater what have you done?"

The legs carried out where the thought process raced to

Ran into the arms of the mind-numbing care of you

Did you hear voices? Was there somebody there with you

Dark images? Prompts? Suggestion?

I'm afraid of you

What did you say? Hell. No.

What did you do?

Not to worry now, we'll take care of you.

Take these tablets (x4)

The only voice I hear now

Resonates in my mind

Which you want to chain

Heaven forbid explore; find

But I had you sussed, your airs and graces

Wild horses may take me

But you - ain't a chance mate

Keep lookin', next victim

Perhaps easier than I

You - good grief - I just have to sigh

You may walk the walk

I ain't talking the talk,

These feathers, too bright, no bat!

Confined, no thanks, it's as simple as that

So listen and hear as I make my plea


Like it or loath it

I ain't pleasin' thee.

I refused the stew, leaves a metallic residue

" The remedy"

Luckily, I found my true melody

The motorway of life; quick! next exit,

And I am one who chose the boreens, ( boreens are an Irish expression for small dirt roads)

winding and finding, I found true nature

The air; my tonic, my senses awaken


The beginning...............

Lydia Walsh Yildirim, MindFreedom Ireland

The Glass Enclosure

My black tongue finds no taste in its smoothness,

And there is nothing to see

Except when the sun, at certain angles,

Flashes and breaks into rainbow patterns.

But there it is all the time,

Marking the distance between us.

The others graze so close sometimes

I hear their rasping breath,

Smell their familiarity in the Pennine air,

See their otherwise vacant eyes questioning.

Other times they range away together

To distant, rocky, limestone slopes,

Whose views I can only imagine,

Their tiny bearing calls riding the thin wind.

Water is brought to me, and fodder too,

For now the grass is near cropped out.

Heavy boots fall certain and muddy

Within the fence I can only push against.

And there it is all the time,

Marking the difference between us.

Last night I dreamt of wandering with the flock

On a high plain far from Yorkshire’s hills.

Jostled in the mythering crowd, I felt content

With the stench of fetid wool and grassy breath.

A lamb was outlined on a nearby crag,

Backlit by rays of an early sun,

Its heartbeat drew us close like a tender drum,

Its fleece of fire

Like gold,

Like burning glass.

Terry Simpson, December 2006

The Long Voyage

The journey always seems too far,

Across uncertain bays,

With strangers whose faces are hidden,

The sea inseparable from the sky,

Time inconsistent as dreaming.

We hear but do not see or know the circling birds.

In the dark times,

When the best forget how to hope,

And fade away from us,

Moving quickly into the spaces

Like galaxies, faster than light can return,

How will we remember?

We must learn to like ourselves,

For without this we are brittle,

exposed as we cross the open ground,

forced into futile activity

by our autocratic thinking.

We must like ourselves enough to remember everything.

We must like ourselves especially when we fail,

abandoning dreams of rescue,

imagining the cavalry was massacred,

the boat sank, the sentry was a traitor.

We have to go on anyway.

We must know what we did then was the best we could.

We must like ourselves

when we wake up, and when we lie down

drunk beneath the stars, unloved and alone,

We must know our divinity

is even then glowing like wild isotopes.

We must learn to accept our darkness as well as our light.

Those to come will marvel at our voyage

From homes by a peaceful fire,

As they harvest a world where madness

Is banished, because understood.

'They learned to like themselves, and so they survived

those bitter storms, the darkest parts of the voyage.'

Terry Simpson

Rain and Dirt

I wish I was an apple tree,

I would not need no CBT,

Nor CPA nor ECT,

The rain and dirt

Enough for me

Terry Simpson


Dear Jeremy

Because when I woke up this morning

beads of rain from the gutter next to my window

were each unique

and I had to stay and watch each one

Because the carpet in my hall

is quiet red flowers glowing in an amber forest

and my cat is hungry

with eyes of green eternity

Because of clouds

and because the shadows of trees

on August evenings against crumbling Chapeltown walls

are unframed artworks

dying at nightfall in the void

Because of tomatoes, rain

and the possibility of understanding time

but mostly because there are giraffes

I will be unable to attend this mornings meeting of the Joint Commissioning Service Planning Team Sub – Committee

Terry Simpson 


(For Peter Munn, who once claimed I’d said that advocacy is ‘the jewel in the crown of the user movement’. That got me to thinking what else it might be!)

Advocacy is a lion

In the safari park of the user movement,

A spoonful of Demerara

In a survivors cup of coffee,

A blackbird singing

In the system’s night.

Advocacy is a bun

In the user movement’s oven,

A dolphin

in the sea of empowerment,

A diamond on the sole

Of a survivor’s shoe.

Advocacy is a Beckham free kick

Accurately placed in the final minute

Of a goalless draw

Between the user movement and the system

Terry Simpson

May 2006

Wind Messenger

Ancient Art,

goes by wind:

then who understands

the language

of the wind?

The wind-warrior said:

The cause

is in the effect

and the effect,

is affecting the cause.

by Odi Oquosa