Your Space

Expressing yourself creatively can be very therapeutic and rewarding in relation to helping improve mental health and wellbeing.

SpeakUpCIC provides the opportunity for members to participate in our peer support groups and activities such as the Art & Craft and Creative Writing Groups. Via these groups, members produce a wide and varied range of art and craft work, poetry, prose and short stories.

Your Space provides the opportunity for members to share their creativity with others. Even if members are unable to participate in groups, there are still opportunities to be involved - such as writing pieces for the annual Newsletter or sharing photos of art and crafts on our Facebook groups.

If you have anything you would like to share with others, please forward to Maggie or Kay.

Please click on the drop down tabs to view some examples of what has been created by members.

Poetry

Artwork

Creative Writing

I lay here in the dark,

In my lonely bed.

Fighting evil thoughts

Running through my head.

During the day,

I can survive,

When it's light outside,

I feel alive.

Then the night falls,

And darkness closes in.

Then the demons in my mind,

Their evil games begin.

It seems to strange,

I am not afraid of the dark.

But when the light flees,

The black dog begins to bark.

Is it the loneliness?

Always being alone.

Or do I have a problem?

That throws black dog a bone.

But I'm sore and I'm tired,

I really need to sleep.

Maybe today is the day,

I won't want to weep.

By Damien Erbe

Through curtain gaps, a beam of light,

Intrudes, unwelcome nuisance.

A reminder of a time long gone,

Of days I hoped I had forgotten.

A vestige of the world outside,

Invades this darkened room.

Illuminating parts within,

That in my haste to un-remember,

Also was forgotten.

Each day that passed without the light,

Made things a little simpler.

Giving up, piece by piece,

Until it all had disappeared,

The empty shell remained.

Yet through that shell, that curtain gap,

The beam of light crept in,

Illuminating parts unseen.

The warmth and brightness of the light,

Rekindled memories of love and hope,

And as it slowly was unforgotten,

The ungiving up began.

- Sebastian

Things aren't quite right,

There's something in the dark.

Come closer now and listen,

There's wrinklies in the park.

Shouldn't they be at home,

Doing whatever 'wrinklies' do,

Maybe some knitting or a 1,000 piece puzzle,

Surely, they have better things to do.

Why bother to come out at their great age?

They must be having a lark.

Why have they abandoned their Horlicks at home?

These 'wrinklies' in the park.

I'm so glad I'm not old yet,

And starting to fade away.

I wouldn't like to imagine it,

I'll leave those thoughts for another day.

My auntie Sheila's a 'wrinklies',

She chews her nails down to the nub.

I just can't imagine,

Joining the over the hills and far away club.

She takes me down to the bingo hall,

And always has a laugh.

The 'wrinklies' are in their element there,

Boy, you don't know the half.

There's 2 fat 'wrinklies' '88'

It just leaves me in the cold.

I just can't imagine getting to 50,

Who wants to be that old?

Time passes by,

And our youth fades away.

Some things that seemed so important then,

Just don't matter today.

Is it really only midnight,

Too early to go to bed.

Mug of Horlicks? I should cocoa,

I'll have a glass of wine instead.

Time passes us all my friend,

And the years have left their marks.

We're no longer the youths we used to be,

Now we're the 'wrinklies' in the park.

- Paul Hammerton

I am now in the prime of my life,

And looking back I can see,

The unimaginable things that I've been through,

They were not because of me.

They were not because I wasn't worthy,

Evil or was broken.

It was their cruelty, hate

It was not my fault,

I was used as a token.

I'm now starting to accept myself,

And love this skin I'm in.

I grow more confident month on month,

Feels to me such a win.

To learn and enjoy new challenges,

Things I would have never tried,

To find by voice and be heard,

Feels so wonderful inside.

I've been through so much heartache,

For one person I am sure.

Abuse, beatings, illness and grief,

Would break most people.

I now know it's not me,

I am worthy and my heart is pure.

- Mellissa O'Grady

I lay here in the dark In my lonely bed Fighting evil thoughts Running through my head. During the day I can survive, When it’s light outside I feel alive. Then night falls And darkness closes in Then the demons in my mind Their evil games begin. It seems so strange, I am not afraid of the dark But when light flees The black dog begins to bark. Is it the loneliness? Always being alone Or do I have a problem? That throws black dog a bone. But I’m sore and I’m tired. I really need to sleep. Maybe today is the day, I won’t want to weep.

If I come back, I'm being a cat,

Spoilt by someone like me!

I decided this, as it's a life of bliss,

Absolute luxury!

I'd be fed on the dot,

Get my favourite spot,

Wander wherever I please.

The one thing that might make me grumpy,

Is being treated for warms and fleas!

I'd have my very own bed,

For my sleepy head,

I know I'd be left alone.

Curled up nice and warm,

I'd come to no harm.

That would be my sort of home!

- Tracey Jacobs

Your graceful movements grow still as a gazelle.

Waiting

While your energy cascades like a wind torrent.

I look into the glassy depths of teardrops.

And see a reflection of your soul.

Stripped of beauty.

Brittle as a fossil and just as silent.

Never hearing the moonbeams.

You wait for the moon to shine an incandescent path.

Striking weakly to illuminate your life.

It falls gently and withers in the night.

While the silent star shines in the moonlight.

Waiting

Radiating your steps and guiding your heart.

And, at last, hearing the moonbeams sing.

You dance.

- Ann

Worn out shoes on a dusty road,

Carrying stories that were never told.

Shadows linger where the light won't last,

I'm walking down the paths of the past.

Trees that whisper secrets to the breeze,

Time carries its name in the bark of these trees.

Each step a memory, heavy and vast,

Tracing the lines of the paths of the past.

Oh, the echoes call they pull me in,

To places I've been to, sins I have sinned.

Every turn a question, every crossroad passed,

A shadow deep on the paths of the past.

Broken fences and an old stone wall,

Silent witness to it all.

The road keeps winding but is fading fast,

I'm a ghost haunting the paths of the past.

Ashes of moon scattered like rain,

Carrying pieces of joy and pain.

No map to follow, no spell to cast,

Just a heart that beats for the paths of the past.

- Leon Slack

Your Space

Black Dog by Damien Erbe

Ungiving Up by Sebastian

Wrinklies in the Park by Paul Hammerton

I am Worthy by Mellissa O'Grady

Black Dog by Damian Erbe

Meow! (There's a Thought) by Tracey Jacobs

Butterfly by Matthew Walters

Moment by Ann

Paths of the Past by Leon Slack