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Sunday 17 March 2024

OCD

If you can imagine the sensation of your own mind

eating itself, it’s a bit like that. Your mind doubting

every part of itself, and finding a million reasons to

back up the doubt. Friends turn into enemies; love

twists and turns back in on itself until it becomes

Something else, starts to look like its very opposite. Help

becomes harm; harm becomes something necessary.

Your thoughts become arrows, assaulting your mind from

every direction. You start to suffocate under a mountain

of acronyms, diagnoses. The professors are out to get

you, turn you into a robot to suit their agenda for what

you should be. The world is turning against you.

The armies are sharpening their knives. 


But you are strong. Stronger than you give yourself

credit for. The only armies are the ones in your mind.

Your mind may be eating itself, but it is only nibbling

on its own tail. You can ignore the nibbling if you want.

You have that power. You have more power than you

know. You don’t need a PhD to know that you are brave.

An acronym is only a tiny portion of the alphabet that

delineates your own unique genius. The professors

know lots of things, but none of those things is you,

the real you, the you you experience from the inside

out. The world is a friend, if you can bear to let it in.


Joshua Seigal 


Wednesday 13 March 2024

Is There a Poet on Board the Plane?

It’s funny – you wait forever for a moment

like this, but you’re never quite sure what to

do when it arrives. Should you stand up and


make yourself known? Or should you lean

back in your seat, close your eyes and pretend

to be asleep? This is supposed to be a holiday


after all; why ruin it with work? Or perhaps,

in signing up for this job, you took an ethical

pledge to make your skills available whenever


needed, whatever the circumstances. You’re

only a Junior Poet, though – surely, among all

these people, there will be one or two who are


better qualified than you, for a situation like this?

But what if that’s not the case? A Junior Poet

must surely be better than no Poet at all. And what


if it’s a baby, in desperate need of a rhyme? Or

an elderly person who won’t be able to catch

their breath without a little cinquain? You twiddle


your ring as your licence thrums on its chain.

Yes, you think. Yes. Yes there is a Poet on board

this plane. Here I am. How can I be of service?


Joshua Seigal

Saturday 9 March 2024

Aeroplane Impression

I hate it when Dad

does his aeroplane impression.


I’ll be sitting there, feeling grumpy

about school or an argument with friends,


and Dad starts doing this flappy thing

with his lips – brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrbrbr – 


I try to ignore him, but the noise

keeps going – brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrbrbr – 


I tell him to stop, but the sound

gets even louder – BRBRBBBBRBBRBRBRBRBRBRRRBBR! – 


and it keeps on going –  BRBRBBBBRBBRBRBRBRBRBRRRBBR!!! – 

and he starts running around the living room,


his lips buzzing like a crazy propeller,

his arms outstretched like dumb, stupid wings,


and maybe, just maybe, I’ll begin to laugh. 

Or at least smile. And then, if I’m feeling up to it,


if the mood somehow takes me,

if I can bear to leave my troubles behind,


I’ll clamber aboard Dad’s back.

He’ll hold me in place with those big safe hands


and maybe, just maybe,

we both might fly.


Joshua Seigal


Friday 1 March 2024

You Can't Take Away My Love

I wrote these as song lyrics. I do not have a particular melody in mind, and I've not set it to music. If any of my legions of readers wants to do so, then please feel free. 

You Can’t Take Away My Love


You can take away the hairs

From the top of my head

You can take away my butter

Along with my bread

You can make me sleep

On a prison bed

But you can’t take away my love 


You can fill my brain

With a tangle of doubt

You can toy with my mind

Til I want to shout

But I’ll tell you what it is

That I’m all about – 

You can’t take away my love


You can take the shirt

Right off my back

You can put my belongings

In your sack

Record all my failings

In an almanac

But you can’t take away my love


You can give me a zero

On your swanky test

You can plant a nail bomb

In my chest

But it doesn’t matter

See, I’ve been blessed

Cos you can’t take away my love

No you can’t take away my love


Thursday 15 February 2024

Valentine's Evening

I was sitting in a restaurant with my wife

when my website went down.

I pushed the button on my phone

but it wasn’t working.

I asked to borrow my wife’s phone

but the website still wouldn’t load.

I had ceased to exist.

My wife told me to put the phone away

and to focus on the meal, the beautiful evening,

but how could I do those things?

The universe had nullified my presence,

cancelled my very being.

If I was not there for everyone to find me,

then was I really there at all?

But I’m here, my wife said.

I’m right in front of you,

with a menu and new lipstick.

I reached for her hand

and felt the warmth, the flesh.

To let go now, I simply said,

would be a kind of death.


Joshua Seigal


Thursday 8 February 2024

EMOTIONS poems from Maidwell Hall School

This week is Children's Mental Health Week. I had a wonderful time visiting Maidwell Hall school, where I worked with a group of pupils from Years 2, 3 and 4 to create poems based on emotions. I gave everyone a short amount of time to choose which emotion they wanted to write about, and to turn their emotion into a list of metaphors. What follows is a small selection of poems from the group. Some of the lines have a slightly surreal quality, which I really like! I had great fun visiting, and I hope to be back again soon. 

Jealousy by Martha


Jealousy is when it feels in the middle

Like cloudy but not sunny

But with a little bit of rain

Jealousy is when you feel angry

And when someone boasts

You can feel rage 

Jealousy is every emotion

Whizzing around your head like a war 

But inside it’s like a number 4 

Out of number 8


Sadness by Daisy


Sadness is a storm raging through your head

Sadness is a drop of rain that gets you soaking wet

Sadness is getting bullied, when you just can’t dance 

Sadness is no friends

That bends like in the past


Anger by Teo


Anger is people shouting in my brain

Anger is in a long line in my legs 

Anger is losing in a game in my heart

Anger is when people lie in my eye 

Anger is everywhere!

Anger is people not letting me play with my feet [!]

Anger is annoying in my head


Joy by Alice


Joy is daisies and buttercups in my head

Joy is friends playing, shouting your name 

Joy is springtimetime and fruit 

Joy is cupcakes and sweets

Joy is fun in the summer breeze


Wednesday 7 February 2024

Variety

is the spice of life, they say. 

Well I don’t really like spicy things. 

When I come home to the same warm bed every night –

that’s the stuff I like. 

The same table, chairs and cutlery

waiting for me at breakfast – 

I like that. 

A different set of shoes in the hallway; 

some other car in the driveaway; 

a new school every few years –

that’s the stuff that burns

in the back of my throat. 

Variety might be the chilli powder,

but I want the solid stuff, the nourishment.

I need the potatoes, the chicken, the rice –

the things that fill up a life.


Joshua Seigal