Art and Poetry

A regular verbal information assembly of news and issues affecting our everyday lives creatively composed by David John Sowerby, visual storyteller.

When I was five and I said I wanted to learn to skate my mum said “OK, but make sure it does not end in tears!!”

Little was I to know then how prophetic were, her concerned words and, abject fears.

The world has spun upon itself many times since those early, formative days

Life has changed for me, indeed all of us, in oh so many ways.

I learned to skate and ride a bike acquired bumps, bruises, and broken skin.

All of which prepared and supported me as I grew, developed, matured but here is the thing.

Although I had the mumps, measles, chickenpox and all those childhood things that left small sores.

I never had to encounter or face the horror of taking part in any stupid global wars.

I like many of you have lived through trying times, power cuts, three day working weeks and more

But we are lucky, we have survived to face another day, we have all listened to our parents talk about how things were before.

We are of a certain age now with maybe children of our own, making their way in life and following their personal way.

Some are small, perhaps even new-born, others older, engaged, married or perhaps they may be gay.

It matters not, each of us must live out our own, particular life, and carve out our personal, private, meandering road.

Each will face our own challenges, succeed in our endeavours, or sometimes learn to carry a troublesome,  unwanted load.

Things of late have been a trial to each of us as we faced a virus which infected us and spread so fast

We have looked for guidance, others to blame, clapped our health supporters and wondered how long this will last?

The reality is no-one really knows.  Our schools have again closed, pubs, restaurants, and gymnasiums too.

We will each of us be offered a vaccine, a bit like warding off the flu.

Some, quite naturally are still concerned and although this may not quell our fears

Despite what mum and a certain Mr Gove says, it may not now end in tiers!

Instead, we have another lockdown, and words like variant, unprecedented and challenge now abide.

People are upset, businesses close, jobs are lost.  Will anything turn this tide?

Really though we are not sheep, we do not require constant commands if we just listen to our heart

It is up to each of us to just use common sense, be mindful of each other and all to play our part.

So wear your mask, wash your hands, keep your distance safe and be mindful of where you go.

We each share this responsibility.  It is about how we listen, how much we care and so..

Be safe my friends, look out for each other and perhaps silently say a little prayer as you go to bed.

That you and, each of us, may look forward to many happy, healthy, productive and creative years ahead.

Stay safe and well.  Take care.

David

Posted on: 12th August 2025

‘Silent Scream’ is a visual representation of the struggle of being unheard in mental health.

The distorted mouth, blurred by chaotic brushstrokes, symbolises the difficulty of expressing pain and the frustration of feeling silenced.

The monochrome palette conveys a sense of isolation, while the unfinished, raw texture of the background suggests the ongoing battle within.

The subject’s gaze, piercing yet distant, reflects a longing for understanding in a world that often overlooks inner turmoil.

This piece speaks to the countless individuals who struggle to have their voices acknowledged in mental health conversations.

Posted on: 9th July 2025

This piece has been created based on first-hand account of being sectioned, shared in our weekly art group.

Our group create a safe space for those who have been in crisis to find community and this often naturally facilitates conversations of their experiences.

I noticed most people do not have one blanket experience, they spoke of many layers, the many wards, nurses, doctors, groups and progression within their own illness and treatment through their stays.

Many comments on their experience of confusion, being lost, floating, dreamlike, some describe nightmares, losing track of time, losing sense of self and the outside world.

When their friends are sectioned now, they feel they’ve lost them. As the person sectioned becomes isolated, unlike themselves and refuses phone calls.

I get a sense that these individuals have lost hope and can’t imagine rejoining the world or even conversing with it.

However, some felt safe at times, cared for by kind nurses and content with access to gardens and daily activities. This disparity between accounts I’ve heard over the years of facilitating the group is astounding.

The painting’s colours are depictions of clinical environments and the layers of emotions and safety to fear, confusion and contentment.

Eyes are featured to represent the individuals who added to this accumulated account and the range of emotions felt.

I thank those who have shared and supported each other through these conversations. They’ve consented to this being shared anonymously.

Posted on: 9th July 2025

Looking at the walls,

no view outside,

Inhibited visitors try to console,

Vomiting, ligatures and harm –

In one day.

Nurses ignore and

doctors diagnose,

Give pills to those who make a

fuss, no pills if you sit and watch.

In this dark room, no air to breathe,

No control, no one cares or listens.

And stuck here without freedom,

take a cigarette break to escape.

Belittled and anxious,

watching the clock,

Others are counting the

minutes to meds,

X myself out – exhausted

and lonely inside this box

Ali Smith

Posted on: 30th May 2025

I stand poised without gills,

Keep your light from my sorrowful sight,

The nutrient in misery feeds me whole,

It lets me grow in the pith of its darkness,

I feed upon it as upon me, it feeds,

There is a light that dwells upon this shade,

Invisible to you, who has a heart

I have a mushroom,

A melancholic mushroom,

A bacteria so gracefully growing in the dark

Shed not a tear for me,

The salinity of your emotion may retard the growth of my yeast,

I stand poised without Gills,

Keep your light from my sorrowful sight,

Poem by Lindani

Posted on: 20th July 2023

Coil around me,

From cuticle to follicle,

Constrict me to that point,

Where my vessels near excrete my mere survival,

Cocoon me with your un-wanting tendon.

Then…

Release me,

And let my crippled bones

Eggshell around your existence

Because my skin is not broken,

Means not that do not suffer.

Poem by Lindani

Posted on: 20th July 2023

Dear life,

Will we ever have those mornings?

You and I, of burnt toast,

You and I,

Of underdone toast,

I and you,

Of perfectly toasted bread,

We.

Mornings.

Us.

The splitting of hours,

Separating of ambitions,

Anticipations of coming back to we, to you, to I,

To us

Life

I dream of mornings with you,

I dream of toast with you

Good morning

Poem by Lindani

Posted on: 20th July 2023

Stars

A chandelier of hopes,

So far out of reach,

Like the shooting star, most insufferable,

You dart toward me,

Enchanted I am,

Then you…you just vanish,

Deep into the untoward galaxy,

Leaving me hopeless,

Stars.

Poem by Lindani

Posted on: 20th July 2023

It is said it started somewhere in the Orient, in a small, inconspicuous, town.

It soon swept throughout the lands and even brought some Governments down.

Very soon our worst nightmares started to come true.

And all I could pray for is that it would not get to you.

Pandora had forsaken her pledge and set free the horrors from within.

To the theme tune of the War of The Worlds is where I shall begin.

Some strange and horrible things flew out that box, including mean and selfish greed.

People whom we trusted made capital from the misery of our needs.

Soon envy crawled free and crept across the damp and virulent sand.

Friends were lost, some people shut and locked their doors and made a final stand.

Hatred was the next little puppy to escape and run untethered and free.

It was the fault of those Orientals that brought this curse down on you and me.

Or was it?

Wherever it started, the end result, was unbelievable, harsh and intolerable pain.

Our old and fragile loved ones took the first punch and were hit time and time again.

As always hunger escaped the box and those in dire need were brought into focus too.

It took a mindful football star to tell us what we really aught to do.

Poverty skipped free as well, danced and sang with hunger hand in hand.

Many additional people died no matter what we may have planned.

War still raged throughout the World and smiled upon us all and took its chance.

Never one to miss the endless, opportunities brought about by fate and circumstance.

Death had also leapt for joy at its endless possibilities, prospects, and the freedom it had gained.

With a gentle smile it left the box and whispered menacingly, as it pretended to sooth and ease the pain.

It is said it started somewhere in the Orient, in a small, inconspicuous, town.

It soon swept throughout the lands and even brought some Governments down.

Very soon our worst nightmares started to come true.

And all I could pray for is that it would not get to you.

But now we have a vaccine, perhaps even two or more.

Something to combat the virus and even up the score.

Although our medical staff are stretched, exhausted, tired and under strain

A ‘sharp scratch’ will be the phrase repeated every minute, every hour, time and time again.

However, still within the box, biding its time and the strongest of them all,

Was a tiny thing called HOPE, whose message is firm and sure, “No matter what, we shall never fall!”

It has just skipped free, with joyous dance, a melodious voice and wondrous smiling eyes

Looked upon the World and exclaimed, fear not my friends, “This will never best me no matter how hard it tries!!”

We WILL overcome this.  Be Strong, Stay safe and look after each other.

David J Sowerby – Visual Storyteller

Black Notley

Essex

Posted on: 20th July 2023

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

Such a tiny, thin, pleading voice, as my little sweet baby girl looked up at me!

My sweet, strong little girl looked at me, not wanting to cry as she rubbed her bleary eyes with the corner of the blanket. The blanket she had wrapped around herself as she sank into the worn, threadbare armchair.

Mummy, Mummy, will we be having tea tonight? Is there any bread left from Yesterday Mummy?

I know that we have no margarine but is there any bread? I don’t mind eating it without anything on it Mummy, really it’s fine!  Do we have any bread left Mummy?

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

Mummy, do you think the electricity will come back on again soon?  Do you think the lights will start to work again soon Mummy? It’s dark and difficult to see what I’m colouring in Mummy.  I keep going over the lines Mummy! Mummy, do you think the electricity will come back on again soon? Mummy….

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

Mummy do you think we can put the fire on tonight, Mummy? Is the gas still not working Mummy? Mummy? Mummy, are my clothes that you washed in the sink last night still damp Mummy? Will I be able to put my jumper on again tonight Mummy… and my socks! Mummy??

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

Mummy, do you think the men will come back and fix the front door, Mummy? The men that broke it when they came to change the meter things under the stairs, Mummy? There weren’t nice men, were they Mummy? And now the gas and electric things don’t work Mummy! Do you think they might begin to work again tonight, Mummy? Mummy? Mummy…

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, Mummy I’m cold.

Mummy, don’t cry, Mummy.  Why are you crying Mummy?  Please don’t cry Mummy.  Are you cold too?  Here you can share my blanket Mummy……

Posted on: 20th July 2023