Writer’s Block

I’ve been sitting here all day, staring at the clock
I’m trying to write a poem, but I’ve got writer’s block
I’ve got several partly written, but none of them seem right
As I’m looking at this naked page where everything is white

I’m getting so frustrated; oh, come on, get on with it
I’m stuck on what to write, and time’s getting on a bit
Get your brain in gear, dear; don’t sit there in a huff
I know you’re getting bored, and you’ve really had enough

I could try again tomorrow, but I want to write today
There’s a lot on my mind, and so much I want to say
I’m refusing to give in and will not give up the fight
If I have to sit here crying all the way through the night

It’s coming up to dinner time; I’ve not got anywhere
I think I’ve lost the knack; at least, that’s what I fear
I could watch the telly, but the signal is on the blink
So, I sit here, mind vacant, and I don’t know what to think

I’m at the point of giving up, but I’ll know I’ll be so cross
If only I could say that I don’t give a blooming toss.
But, no, I simply can’t, as I was hell-bent on achieving
Now, I’ve lost all my words, and I sit here sadly, grieving.





Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

Filling Holes

I feel lost without the space where I once sat
And the easy way I used to be able to chat
About so much that was bothering me
Dealing with it all in my now absent therapy

I’m now on a waiting list; I hope a place comes soon
Feelings and sentiments are confusingly strewn
What to do with all this time that goes so slowly by
Waiting for a new assessment; I hope I qualify

I miss the reassurance that I could cope
I like to think I can, and I still have that hope
I must find other means with which to fill my days
Emotion, when choked back, finds other ways

I’ve found myself with lots of empty holes to fill
I somehow have the energy; I need to find the will
Thought I’d visit a workshop to try my hand at art
A brand new shiny hobby I could possibly start

Wednesday night, I’m going to circle drumming
Listen to guitars in the next room gently strumming
Beating the drums will get pent-up feelings out
Dispelling anxious tension, I have no doubt

I don’t need to be perfect; just try to keep the beat
It’s easy to catch on to; no need to be discreet
It’s about celebrating life and having lots of fun
I’m passionate about it, and I’m not the only one

Thursday afternoons, I’ll go out picking litter
Even when the weather is absolutely bitter
I’m with a group of people; wouldn’t dare to go alone
Filling council bags with rubbish that’s been thrown

Papers, tickets, fag ends scattered in the park
It keeps us very busy until it’s almost dark
Doing something positive to while away the time
As out of my despair, I’m slowly learning to climb.


Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

Please Don’t Label Me

Please don’t label me

Let me grow up tall

Let me choose for myself

Who I want to be

I was labelled a difficult baby

Subsequently so, a child

Then an awkward teenager

An adult with disorders of the mind

I don’t like labels

If I am labelled

It adds to my load

Emotional baggage

Which goes charging

Through my life

Like a buffalo

In the Wild West

Or like a stranger entering

The Last Chance Saloon

To encounter a low-life

A corrupt villain with a blade

Who stares me out

As the midday sun gleams

And catches my eye

Through semi-closed shutters

Let me choose

Whether I live or die

If I choose to live

Let it be my decision

Don’t pin me down

Or tie me to a post

With shackles and chains

And take my options away

Don’t take my choice away

Don’t take my voice away

Let me shout out loud

My opinion counts

Let me run free

Across the dusty plains

Let me choose who I am

Don’t label me.

(Photo by Erwan Hesry on Unsplash)

A Christmas Poem – (Dedicated To My Dear Mum)

It’ll be six years soon; I lost my dear Mum
Counting the years, five fingers, one thumb
No Christmas together, as too far away
Missing each other on this special day

We could have been sad, both so alone
But giggles (and tears) made their way down the phone
We chatted at breakfast and chatted at dinner
Turkey or nut loaf; the loaf was the winner

Opening presents that had come in the post
Mum sipping a sherry and sharing a toast
Me with an alcohol-free sparkling wine
Sober year count more than eight or nine

Reading our cards to each other out loud
Many have come from the family crowd
Dinner now ready, so we stopped to eat
Cranberry sauce; still good without meat

Christmas pudding came next, of course
Vegan cream, custard but no brandy sauce
Crackers, for one, were out of the question
I’ve eaten too much, and I’ve got indigestion

The TV is on showing Morecambe and Wise*
Jokes and throwing custard pies
Somehow, it’d got to quarter past eight
No washing up done and getting late

I’m alone once again this Christmas Day
But on Monday, the children will come and play
My wishes to all are full of good cheer
So, Happy Christmas and a great New Year.

(FOR MUM WITH LOVE – RIP 30/12/16)


(* Morecambe and Wise was a popular Christmas comedy programme in the UK years ago).


Photo by Roberto Nickson on Unsplash

Dear Unknown Counsellor

Many of you will know that my counselling with Chris is ending on the 4th of January, which I’m terrified about. I would normally be there this afternoon and again next week, but the counselling agency is, understandably, closed for two weeks for the Christmas holidays and New Year. The best way I can cope with the absence of my session today is to write, so I thought I’d write a simple poem for my new, as yet unknown counsellor.


Dear Unknown Counsellor,

I’m devastated and so upset
to be away from Chris
I’ve fallen into the darkness
and straight into the abyss

I’ve no idea when I’ll meet you
Apparently, there’s a queue
Otherwise known as a waiting list
How long? I wish I knew

I do hope that we’ll get on
and in you, I’ll learn to trust
I hope you’ll understand my truths
and not view me with disgust

I write a lot of poetry
and dabble with some ‘art’
It’s just how I express myself
pouring out the whole of my heart

I have a problem with anger
I can’t get it off my chest
I can’t scream into a pillow
although I’ve tried my best

I hope I get to meet you soon
I’m scared out here all alone
I’ve been so lucky to have Chris
and the care that she has shown

*Please take away the ticking
of the therapy room’s clock
It reminds me of the horror room
and the door with the bolted lock

My heart is already broken in two
I have one more week; then, the end
I hope my words are acceptable
and these thoughts that I have penned

Where do I begin with you?
Do I have to start over again?
I think I could talk forever
dispelling this huge weight of pain.

* See previous poem The Passage of Time

(Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash)

The Journey – A Poem

Most of you who know me will have learned that my desperately-needed counselling has to come to an end on the 4th of January 2023 (straight after the New Year). I’m on a two-week break over Christmas at the moment. You know how terrified I am of being without Chris. I’m still on a long waiting list to enable me to see someone else; this is likely to be months rather than weeks. All the things and emotions I’ve shared with her, some of which I’ve never shared with anyone before, where do they go? Do I have to begin all over again with a new person? I’m not sure I coud bear that.

I wanted to write something for Chris to express my gratitude for all the work we’ve done together, but also to share my fear of coping without her to speak to every Wednesday.

THE JOURNEY

I wanted to write something purely for you
to say thank you for all that you’ve done and do
I came, and you helped me to open my heart
You’ve listened to poems and seen bits of art

You’ve travelled my journey alongside with me
through all the depression and anxiety
We tried to deal with my muddled eating
That was the first thing we intended treating

But, then came the flashbacks of child sex abuse
A crime committed with no good excuse
I shared secrets I’d never discussed before
Felt guilty as hell as I stared at the floor

You’ve been by my side and witnessed my pain
Taught me I’m worthy and have lots to gain
You’ve reassured me I wasn’t to blame
and helped me let go of the awful shame

Trying to deal with my anger was tough
I couldn’t scream or shout loud enough
I did once throw hard clay at the chair
Tried to imagine the bastard sat there

I poured out my soul in words, rhyme and tears
and looked at my strengths and all of my fears
I’m so grateful to you for hearing my truth
of long, long ago, back in my youth

You’ve listened to secrets and made me feel brave
and I’m dreading our final goodbye and last wave
How do I live with this loss and my pain?
I just can’t believe I won’t see you again.

With my love, Ellie Xxx 🖤🖤🖤



A Ribbon And A Bow

I thought this year would be different
but no, I should have known
While half the world is celebrating
once again, I’m on my own

Christmas is meant to bring joy
but for me, it’s another sad day
I know it is for some others, too
I wish it would all go away

It’s just like any other day;
there are no presents there for me
Couldn’t put the decorations up
Couldn’t manage a tree

I don’t want silver and gold
tied up with a ribbon and bow
I don’t need the fancy gift wrap;
that’s not how I want it to go

My family around the table;
that’s all I asked for this year
My son was coming on Christmas Day
but now he is going elsewhere

I miss my dear Mum at Christmas
We’d talk on the phone half the day
Both alone again but so far apart
before she passed away

Often, when alone on this day
I take a ride into town
to see if a soul is on the streets
I go with a smile, not a frown

I still have much to be grateful for
There are people worse off than me
There’s still beauty in the world
if I open my eyes and see

I hope you don’t feel I’m a humbug
but it’s extra tough this year
Nevertheless, I give to you
my ongoing love and good cheer.

Warm hugs, Ellie Xx 💓🌲💓

Catharsis

Let my fears float away
in a hot air balloon
above the dark clouds
and up to the moon

All my pain and the anger
sent up to the sky
the winds blow them gently
as I watch them fly by

Rip up scarred words
and burn them with sage
watch them all wither
and releasing the rage

Try punching a pillow
or let out a scream
digging for gold
or my lost self-esteem

Bang on a drum
play music so loud
don’t need permission
it’s fine; it’s allowed

Write down my thoughts
draw out a sketch
pin them up on the wall
and take a deep breath

Let your grievances lapse
write a gratitude list
swaddle the hurting
while angels are kissed.

I’ve had a more positive day today, so it’s made a nice change and was quite some relief, too. I hope it lasts, but even if it’s just a little taster of how life could be, it’s been good to be able to write something a bit more upbeat.

I wrote this after having a conversation with my counsellor yesterday. She asked me, totally out of the blue, what I’d like to do with all my pain, trauma and nightmarish memories. On the spur of the moment, without giving it much thought, I just came out with, ‘I’d like to put them in a hot air balloon and let them float up to the sky until the balloon is completely out of view.’

(I’ve also just started reading a book by a WP blogging friend, Tamara. If you’re reading this, Tamara, thank you for all your support and for letting me know about your books. I can see so much of myself in them. If you’d like me to link you to this post, just contact me, and I’ll be more than happy to do so.)

I’ve just started to draw a sketch of my imaginary balloon. It’s too late to finish and post it here tonight, but if I get it finished by tomorrow, I’ll add it to this post then.





Not exactly a sketch, but a very amateur attempt at drawing/colouring a picture of a hot air balloon. As you can see, I’m not an expert at art!

Ellie Thompson

Climbing The Ladder

(Photo by Nick Page on Unsplash)

Drowning in anguish sucked the life out of me
I expressed my personal agony for all to see
I was travelling through the days full of tragedy
Not getting where I really wanted to be

***

Each day spending far too long in bed
Fighting off the unwanted thoughts in my head
Often wishing to be numb, sometimes dead
Now, I’m wanting to live life again instead

***

I want to be rid of the despair, anger and hate
Let them go, leave them standing at the garden gate
There was far too much pain sitting on my plate
Now is the time to cleanse, release and recreate

***

I’ve written my life story in excruciating rhyme
Feeling all the misery like joy was the crime
Feeling deep sorrow for losing so much time
Please hold my hand while I begin the long climb

***

Life was pretty tough when it all went wrong
I’ve been sitting on the bottom rung for far too long
Forgot to tell myself that I’m still brave and strong
Now, I’m wanting to sing a brand-new song

***

Not saying it’s going to be easy but I’ll try
Not saying I won’t be sad because I might still cry
Not saying it’s the end as I don’t want to die
Not saying I won’t need you, so please stand by.




Another Day

(Image source – Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash)

The day will put down roots on my shoulders tonight

These past vacant hours disappeared

Into dense, heavy clouds above me

Exhaustion sets in, and my muscles are taught

Like the strings of an old, dusty Stradivarius

Playing a lullaby to aid my slumber

~~~

I am sore and weary through lack of rest and repose

Seconds blended into minutes, into days, into weeks

Time evaporating my ongoing sense of self

Another day I have to pull myself up by my bootlaces

And face the world and the human race and smile

When under my skin, tears of pain and sorrow overwhelm me

~~~

Why another day when I have had so many already

packed tightly together, melting into months and seasons

I long for the navy sky, littered with bright stars

The darkness was once my friend; now sleep evades me

I need sweet dreams. I have only nightmares

But I have made it through this day against all odds

~~~

So, how do I get through yet another day

When sometimes, I hardly know myself at all

Yet sometimes, I know myself too much, and it hurts

And my ideas and thoughts sit heavy on my mind

It has been this way for far too long

I will search out escape routes to get some relief.