Mental Health, Parenting, Random poetry Add comments


Graffiti  Advisor  Concert  Hobby  Dreamer  Condemned  Decontamination  Wilderness  Common


Graffiti on the walls of my life

My emotional adviser

Unable to concert the voices

Tuning in my head – a hobby choir.


This wisened dreamer stands up, blinks,

Once condemned to silence –

Faces decontamination now –

A wilderness of maybes.


Happenstance: not altogether common.


I opened my Spotify app on my phone, and chose some tracks by Pink to play whilst making the kids’ dinner this evening. The door to the playroom soon slid back, and revealed an enquiring little face. 

“Why are you singing that song, in here, now?” Youngest asked.  He seemed puzzled when I said I just felt like listening to it.

Hubby puts the radio on if he is making the family meal, and no one questions it.  The boys have joined him in the diningroom for a boogie many a time, but when I indulge in my music it is seen as a novelty. 

It is just a small reminder of how many of my releases I have curbed in order to focus on being a mum.  I try to keep my ears open and my other senses sharp around the kids at all times.  I have a long long list of things reciting in my head that I am yet to get to, that pushes out thoughts of what I would really like to be doing with my evenings or weekends.

I rarely feel as though I am justified engaging in whatever activity I have in front of me at that moment.  If I am cleaning I feel I should be spending time with the kids; when I sit down to play, I worry there will not be enough of my energy/hours left to complete the laundry/vacuuming/tidying I need to get done by the end of the day. 

I spend a large  chunk of my waking hours with one or both of my children, but they always seem to want more of me: more one to one, more listening to the stories from their day, more ‘special’ mummy things like how I take off their plasters or help them with their trickier board- or tablet games…

It all takes a focus that seems at odds with the reveries I usually find myself pursuing when I open the door to my creative side, so I consciously bolted it and fell headlong into the cuddly merry-go-round of motherhood. 

However, that had side effects as I have explored before.  

Can you relate to today’s poem? 

Have you had a job, or parenthood, interfere with your creativity or sense of individuality? 

Do you feel like you need to curb your flights of fancy in order to focus on your life better? 

How did/does it affect you long term?


Photo credit: pexels


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One Response to “Graffiti”

  1. A Comfy Kind Of Restless » Blog Archive » Quiet Says:

    […] her family were torn over her image versus her reality.  It harkens back to what I was pondering yesterday (and explains why I am again going to have to backdate this post, as I sit still tapping it out […]

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