Jo Hodgson

I'm a compulsive writer and I keep my works in a crate under my bed, written on everything from notebooks to napkins. I'm out of room now so I'm transferring them onto the internet. Hopefully other people can get some pleasure from them this way too. Enjoy! -Jo x ________ Contact me var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-33687444-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();

[johodgson]

Summer Floods 2012 remembering Hebden Bridge Traders

Green growth, Deeper, darker, heavier than ever, Greener than green has been Since this rain. This "heavens opened everyday" summer. Untypical , tropical, topical, Floods and buckets and mop-ical! Wading traders with sopping shops And squelching carpets And myriads of mayhemic muds And stench And stains. All that remains After the summer's heavy rains.

[johodgson]

May time

Flurry of cherry blossom blown spiral Like wedding confetti swirled viral. Blossom blustered in a blizzard, Petals picked up on a passing gust And flustered skyward. Cloudward. Roundward. Upward. Downward. Spring snowflakes scattered and strewn On the sidewalk, Drifts to the drains Squashed and browned And wilted underfoot. After its glorious flittering flight Of flurrying fancy, It falling twirling flutters To grace the streets and parks and gutters.

[johodgson]

Autumn 1

Today a tree turned amber brown Heralds Autumn's entrance gold . School playground filled with shrieks and shouts awakes , From summer's silent break. Summer will cast her greens for bronzes bold. The nipping breeze, the dripping rain, Will blow the blossom From its branches once again. Confetti leaves will deck the ground. The marriage of the seasons bound. The two now gently merged as one Will soon turn cold as winter's icy trailing cape goes on.

[johodgson]

Winter's Chill

The snow fell Between us It covered our tracks And left us stranded. The love of a lifetime left disbanded. We didn't hear it Fall Softly in the night. And in the morning The passion was gone cold. Love's landscape deathly white and lifeless. No pulse No breathy gasp . The snow came in the night time When our guard was down. We were miles apart. Ice now hangs in sharp shards On wires where summer swallows were.

[johodgson]

Carefree

This was my childhood

My freedom

My wildhood

Running uphills for the thrills and the winnings,

Grasping the nettles,

Cycling fast ,steeply

Gasping and breathless.

Deeply intrigued by the shiniest beetles ,

Armfuls of bluebells picked for our mums

With white end stalks, never seen the light of day.

Crashing through ferns,

Bashing and flattening our paths through them.

Splodging in the beck

On the long trek home

Drinking from wells ,

Long spells of laughter

And noise

Girls and boys

No thoughts of hereafter.

[johodgson]

Sleepless Night 3

This is one of the lonely nights When sleep won't come. When darkness like a heavy shawl Lies smothering me But won't quite take my breath away. When daylight seems a hundred years away. I lie and turn And cry and yearn. But not a second's sleep or rest Can my heart earn.

[johodgson]

Patchwork Love

The cloth of our love is torn to pieces, Ripped and rent like little hexagons Waiting to be sewn into a patchwork quilt. A stitched up soul, Only ever tacked patches, Frail fragments of the whole.

[johodgson]

Out of Sight

You slipped through a hole in my heart Like a penny through a pocket. You lie in the lining Heavy in the hem. I cannot retrieve you For so many stitches and so much thread, I can't spend you, Only save you, Invested in the hem of my memory. Like the penny Through the pocket.

[johodgson]

A thousand moons have waxed and waned,

A thousand suns have shone,

Ten thousand tides have ebbed and flowed

And stormed, since you were gone.

.

So many rains have rattled down

On landscape parched and dry

Now rid of all the baggage

I’m learning how to fly.

.

So many fragments of my heart

And tears that soaked my face

Are gathered up and mended now

All neatly back in place .

.

Where once my thoughts were clouded

There is pure clarity

And left upon the tideline

All trace of you and me.

.

And should you go and gather them

Like shells one scarlet dawn,

You’ll find them broken by the waves,

Of time, the oceans storm .

.

Look at them a moment,

Broken in your hand.

Drop them, and in ten thousand moons

They’ll all be ground to sand.

.

Bare feet will gently tread them,

No one will ever know

They were my life, my hopes,my dreams,

A million moons ago.

[johodgson]

Having a short break.

Lots more to come soon.

Thank you for checking and reading.

Jo x

[johodgson]

Deja Vu

In my house are many mansions,

I go to them in dreams,

Come into my dining room,

It's larger than it seems.

.

I look around at night time,

I find the hidden doors,

I find the gates and steps and stairs

That lead to many floors

.

My favourite is the ballroom

Its many metres high,

With mighty painted ceilings

With cherubs flying by.

.

I'm always pleased I bought this house,

With its many secret rooms.

But always in the morning ,

Theres a small confining gloom.

.

It seems my spacious mansions.

Were just a deja vu

I'm back in the post war semi

With a cup of tea and you.

[johodgson]

Washed Up

Let the tide take us,

Let the storm shake us,

Let the sun hang us to dry.

Let the fire warm us,

Let the waves meet us,

Then let me go and pass by.

[johodgson]

Invincible

                                                   I cannot hurt again The lash,The flinch,The pain.

The gasp for air.

Intake of breath so sore.

The grasp for light.

You cannot hurt me more.

  Ah yes I wait to hear

Your voice,Your laugh,

To feel your touch.

But do not ache and pine thus much.

  I do not cry nor falter

With each glancing blow

Or mental pain

For I will never hurt so hard again.

  You lifted me to heights

Then let me fall.

I have the scars

But feel no pain at all.

Scar tissue grows back strong

As tough as hide.

I have no image,

No hurt pride.

                                        The first hurt was the hardest.

Long and cruel the fall,

And now the steepest plungeing drop

Has no effect at all.

  For even though I had

The breath knocked out of me,

Nothing can touch me now,

Sweet bitter mystery.

[johodgson]

Stagnant

On the deepest darkest days

When I cant even see daylight

Through the green algae

And the frogs,

I wonder how I got here

To this depth and this slime.

I long to wade through

The silt and sludge,

Break through the surface of the water

And breathe the air that was you.

>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<

[johodgson]

Recovery

How sick was my soul,

Those Years,

How sore my heart,

From pounding erratically,

Hurting systematically

From your barbed wire words.

Slicing me piece by piece

'Til i was too small to recognise myself.

And since you left,

The little caged lark

That beat its bleeding wings apart

Against the bars,

Soars skyward,

Ever singing,

Ever heading for the vast blue freedom

Of the never ending open lidless sky.

And never looking down or sideward

At the deepest sorrow now left low

And far behind.

[johodgson]

Sunday

Staring at the swirls

On the anaglypta ceiling

I lie in bed on Sunday and I muse,

That I dont have to worry

With my car keys and to scurry

Sunday morning - I dont have to blow a fuse.

.

Declared a day of rest

By "The One who was the Maker"

Gives me a free licence

To be lazy.

Theres the sun just a rising

On the distant Far horizon

Frost on roofs, Smoke from chimneys, Outlook hazy.

.

So I stare at the swirls

On the anaglypta ceiling

Sunday morning, In the quiet,

I just lurk.

And I dont have to queue

Behind him and him and you

In the traffic, rushing,

On my way to work!!

[johodgson]

Work

Work-

The black stallion

In the foreground of

Life's each week,

Facing me,

Rearing and whinnying,

Flaring the reds of its nostrils

And glaring the whites of its eyes.

And on the home days,

The rest days,

I hear its not so distant

Mocking , laughing whine,

Hear it pawing the ground

 A big slow heart beat,

Or distant thunder

Rumbling,

Mixing noise and light,

Preparing the storm,

The turmoil,

The Dawns of Dread

And fear

As each new morn creeps darkly near.