Pushtaspoems

What the children saw

Look away
Avert your eyes
Money donated to
Shattered lives
Unimaginable horror
The children saw
R***d, tortured
Then buried raw
In shallow graves
Their parents lay
The butchers lie
Propaganda they say
Born with sin
Trained to destroy
To take the Land
From the Ukrainian boy
Justice May not
Find you here on earth
But your God saw
The secrets you
Dug in the dirt
At consuming fire
You will finally weep
Then your soul will die
While you gnash your teeth

~Pushtaspoems

Link in Bio for donations to
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I've been busy with other projects these last few months but in the effort to make sense of the war in Ukraine these words came to mind. Some people say they can't read the stories, some say don't read them if they upset you. All understandable but looking away isn't an option. Not when I think of what the children must have seen. Short lives ended in horror or short lives permanently scarred with horror. I'm pessimistic about these people facing justice in this lifetime. I hope they do but if they don't I hope there is a God who will hold them accountable.

I have set up a fundraising page for
Any pennies to spare I'm sure will be spent wisely rebuilding these children's homes.

The last in my trilogy of tirades. For those who have had to create and still feel weird about it. Don't! If you feel better as a result of it then it was a healthy decision.

I could write a poem
or sing a song,
Perhaps a book
of all they did
that was wrong,
But for what,
Only to tell them
They’ve hurt me so,
Their dripping comments,
Each shameful s**t show
No, write will not I
of their failure to be,
Decent human beings,
No respectfully,
It’s not my job to teach
Them of humanity,
Karma’s a master
They’re sure to see,

For now let them sit
In their solitude,
Ignorance their fodder
Their output rude,
No, write will not I
Only walk away,
Enough has been said
There’s no more to say,
I’m gone, I left
with my pride and joy,
My life, my love,
My girl, my boy,
Peace have I as
I hold my head high,
Keep walking,
Don't turn to
Say goodbye.
~Pushta

No the irony is not lost on me and anyone who knows me knows how founded this is but the prompt had to be the latest debacle from ! Even if Oprah was my bestie and offered me an all exclusive interview to let it all out about my would I take it...No!..
In a year when so many people have lost so much, their homes, jobs, loved ones, hope and so much more to hear these two giving out over losing their security is just enough to send a to write! Yes the can drive you to the point of needing , they can be awful, say and do awful things, that you may never fully recover from, believe me I know! But ya know, get the help, , (or your money, whichever makes you happier) and then be happy....life is a journey, there are no guarantees, know when you have arrived and are welcome and know when to depart and should you need to return bring a shield... 💛 Pushta

She's the strongest person I know, has always been there for everyone and I miss her more than words can say. The world has suddenly become too large when you can't go home to see your Mammy. Ireland please hurry up with the vaccination program so that I can go home and see my Mum! See you soon Mum. Happy Mother's Day
💗🌸💕💗🌸 💗🌸💕
🇮🇪 @ London, United Kingdom

To all women out there! Especially the ladies in my family and friends.
Sending you Flowers with Love 💗 Joy 💗and Happiness💗to you today and everyday! Be proud of yourself! 💫

#

Words inspired by memories
Flooded in sorrow and pain
Words aroused by flashbacks
To a dance and a kiss in the rain
Words evoked by nostalgia
Spinning through every time plane
Words that fill your heart now
For a time that will never be again
This was inspired by me and the women in my life who have all come to a point where we’ve thought, “I never thought it would be like this...”, where life becomes over complicated, where you’ve taken on too much of everyones BS, where you’ve over compromised, where you’ve bent over backwards trying to please and appease, where you’ve gone through unimaginable pain and loss... and then you stop and think of the days when you danced and kissed in the rain like nothing else mattered, to the days when compromising was deciding which movie you’d see and when your happiness was all that mattered in life….
We can’t stop our life changing but we do need to stop and shift gear sometimes and stop putting others so much before ourselves. When posting I wondered was the end too sad, to say that a time will never be again seems final, but it’s not sad, it’s reality. No two moments can ever be the same and as I write this, even this poem is in the past.... it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, it just exists in another time...out there somewhere.
Sometimes we have to start over, make new moments, new happy memories. Accepting change is hard. Sometimes it may feel as if there is no hope, but maybe there is... and rather than spending our time looking back with nostalgia we need to stop, make a turn and move forward, one elegant heel at a time....
Leave a heart if you liked the poem.

For the men! Who are sometimes expected to be too strong, to brave, not feel fear, not be sad.

Fair Love
Let less be thought of a lover
For leaving his lover's lair
For to lay with lies with a lover
Is fair nor love to a lover fair

I hope this poem doesn’t upset anyone and I want to emphasise that in writing this I was thinking of dating and how when we were young we might have taken it too seriously. A family that’s breaking when there are children involved is a different ball game. But when we are looking for love we often demonise a person for leaving the relationship. But what about someone who stays and has their cake and eats it (been there!). Is being with someone who lies or who doesn’t love you enough to stay your true worth. Sometimes letting someone go is an act of love.As Madonna said...
‘Don't go for second best, baby
Put your love to the test

This is the last of my 3 pandemic pieces. I did a piece earlier which was a satire on the governments behaviour but there’s no room for humour now.
2,464,781 people dead as I write this and that’s a minimum!
Pandemic!

Even the word sends chills through me. We never believed it would happen. We saw it in movies but like everything else we naively never thought it would happen to us…
But it did!

We never thought we’d have to factor how politicians would respond to a life and death crisis….

But we do!

When those who knew what was coming, warned countries to lockdown ‘Protect your people’, there were politicians that listened but there were much more who scoffed and ignored the warnings.

PANDEMIC! It turned our world upside down.

There are a few silver linings from this time but one of them is the speed at which treatments, cures, vaccines and more were developed and approved. So that we could stop people from dying. So that we could finally obtain ‘scientific’ herd immunity. As Covid-19 mutated doubt in an effective vaccine crept into peoples hearts. The fear that we would never get out of this. Then hope was found, hope worked and hope was approved!
Then hope got into the hands of those who have the ability to control our life…Governments.
Now hope is used as a bargaining tool, barterered with in backrroom deals as people continue to die, to get long Covid, immunocompromised children remain unvaccinated, children lose out on vital education, su***de has increased, unemployment, the list is endless and that’s just the ‘rich’ countries. This should be a matter of life and death yet it’s now a matter of rich versus poor..
One of these days politicians will come, cap in hand looking for your vote. Look at them with new eyes. Your life might someday be in their hands. Don’t forget those who took your life and safety lightly. Who dished out apathetic sympathies..Politicians,
Games belong on boards, not with peoples lives....

There was only one thing worse than going through this lockdown and that was seeing others go through it. Especially those who live alone. Older people, people who shouldn’t be alone, people who did not live through their lives and survive wars to spend their days like this. Isolated for their safety but locked away with their insanity. And the feeling of helplessness. Not being able to travel. Not being able to throw your arms around those you love the most and hug them tight. Please God we are nearly through this and we can soon hold hands again and drink coffee by the sea. Stay safe and sane. Love Pushta ❤️❤️❤️

Pandemic Panic

In Truth, Lies, Trust

Lies slip from tongues
Serpentile venom harms not the snake
Instinctful survival, trust noone
Yet splintered spikes so satanly
Stick them to our hearts
Like post-its, forever impaled
Our armour to love and more
An adorned reminder, trust is sacred,
Truth is everything, it shouldn’t hurt
Yet beholden to noone is the holder
Who cares for it not
They hide it deep, better a lie to reap.

I’m not a vegan but I do try to limit my meat intake, making several meals a week vegetarian. I’m not advocating any diet. I do however believe that we can live without fur unless you’re living in a cave and embracing the wild. I don’t think many people were happy to recently find out how many mink farms were in their country. I only discovered today that minks were used in the manufacture of eye lashes. Come on!!
Anyway, it’s not the best poem, more a statement of shock. ..
Thanks for reading❤️

Anaphora writing challenge from


Kindly shared by the lovely
Cardinal Sin

Why did they punish them for their beauty?
Why did they persecute the innocent child?
Why did they bury their spirits and souls in Tuam?
Why did others conceal their lies?
Why didn’t those who knew shout louder?
Why did they betray their faithful trust?
Why are Cardinals so free of cardinal sin,
When they too were born through lust?
~Pushta

See poem typed out in comments..
Such a feared and misunderstood creature. How does something so small evoke such fear in us?
It’s fair to say that when she sees us approaching, especially if accompanied by a shriek, it’s she’s the one that’s scared. Not only for her life but for the beautifully architectured labour of love that is her home.
I’m attaching a time-lapse video from BBC Earth that shows how a spider spins her web. I dare you to watch it and not feel bad about the next web you brush away.
The female spider lives to breed. He life is short lived after she lays her eggs. Yet her instinct guides her and experience has taught her, she must spin a web of excellence and reproduce for her survival.
Now, let's spare a thought for the poor male. That big hairy guy you see walking across your sitting room floor. No, not your husband! The 8 legged fella. He’s on a mission, sniffing out spider pheromones, driven by his own instinctful needs. B***y call....it could be his last. He abandons his own web and approaches a females with trepidation, afraid she will literally take his head off. He taps at her web and does some spider dance moves to impress her, waiting for the call, “C'mon, get your coat! You've pulled!” Then she invites him in for a night cap and he moves in, fancier decorating. The happy couple. I suppose it's only a matter of time before the 'Where is my...?" and 'What's for dinner...? ' starts. So it’s no suprise that he’s dies before that winter ends, once she’s got what she needs from him of course....Spider sperm....gross! I know!
For anyone who found the opening line overtly sexual, shame on you, she's a spider! Take your minds out of the gutter!
Happy Halloween All
🎃 👻 🎃 👻 🎃

Some people just can’t help themselves. Their mouths move quicker than their brain...
Remember, what’s said cannot be unsaid!❤️🖤❤️

For those moments that you hesitate to take that challenge because of your own doubts or because someone has made you doubt yourself. Take a deep breath and step forward. Believe in yourself and take that chance!

There's a crevice on the precipice
of where I should ascend
yet my fears taunt at my hesitant heart
‘Once there your journey shall end!’
A possible chance of failure
Or conceivably to suceed
A fissure of hope is all one needs
To take a chance indeed.

Today is national Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, for the remembrance of miscarriage, still birth and infant loss and the families who continue to carry these babies in their hearts.
People ask me when I started to write and I say during the lockdown mostly and then I look back in my notes and I see this poem that I wrote on the 4th July 2014. We had lost one baby to a silent miscarriage at 10 weeks and another baby due to FFA at 16 weeks. What I didn’t know at the time that I wrote this poem was that I was going to have another silent miscarriage a couple of months later. Looking back at this poem I can see now that I was already on a downward slope. The third miscarriage was the one that would bring me to a dark place in my mind that I struggled to get out of. Nobody seemed to know how bad I was until I told my husband that the worst part of my day was waking up.
I am thankfully on the other side of this now and am blessed with two children but I will never forget this time or the feeling of isolation.
To share this now is quite strange for me but I’m sharing it for those who are going through it - it’s hard to tell people that you need help, that you are struggling mentally but if you are, tell someone. This is the start of the road out of that darkness. Just talk. It will be ok. 💛
For family and friends, talk to them, please. The day is long when your only release is sleep and even then you don’t sleep.
To my mum, who was always there, at the end of the phone, who hopped on the train when my husband called with bad news. Who made sure I never went to a scan alone again.
💛Love You💛

Oh Guilty Pleasures!
I don't know what you were thinking!!!...but Mine was an Almond Magnum! Kick 😋😋😉😉
Still clinging to summer days and the feeling of biting into a chocolate ice cream. The crackle of cold chocolate as it splinters into shards and the panic that sets in should you lose one!! Yum😋
What's were you thinking when you read these words or what's your guilty pleasure? Do share ....😊

This is my first attempt at a Haiku. I had written a few words a couple of weeks ago about these flowers that appeared to dance in the breeze. Thanks to whose Haiku inspired me to write my first Haiku and give these words some life. A nice little reminder of dancing summer flowers as the winter approaches. Hope you enjoy. Any feedback appreciated! 💐....
Summer Flowers - A Haiku - hopefully!

Dancing in the wind
Almost jolly in their dance
Soaking up the sun

Oh summer flowers
How oblivious you are
To what is to come

How I admire you
The way you dance, shine and sway
And live for the day.

~Pushta.

I wrote this poem for a lovely lady, my father’s cousin, who I wish had come into our lives earlier but for whatever reason arrived at the time of my fathers passing. She’s like the nana that’s been missing from our lives for a long time and she brought great comfort and love to both my father and us on his last day.
I saw a man pass me on the street the other day wearing a mask and his face scars were just visible above his mask. His eyes were smiling and I wondered if he was happy that, everyone, him included was wearing a mask. Did he finally feel like everyone else? He’d obviously been in a tragic accident, like my dads cousin.
I wanted to tell him to take his mask off. Imagine what it’s like for people who have to walk around in a world so obsessed with image and beauty where even those who have beauty can’t appreciate it. Where it is never enough. I imagined what it would be like if even just for one day, everyone walked around with their masks on, everyone except those who feel less than beautiful because of their scars.
My Dad’s cousin survived a car crash and had 52 surgeries on her face which I couldn’t believe. I thought maybe 2. Her face is lovely and kind and she is lovely and kind. I heard her say she should have died that day and it saddened me. If she had, I would never have met her. When our father was leaving our lives she came into it and gave us comfort and love.
It’s been on my mind to write something for her and seeing this man with his hidden scars gave me the push.
This is for my dad’s cousin, the man in the mask that day, and for all people who have scars or facial disfigurement or any other feature that makes them feel less than beautiful.
Finally, this is for my son who has yet to be told the tale of his own survival.
There is a reason you are here. There is a reason for your survival. For what is beauty but life!

Apologies for my absence the last week. I know I haven't posted so much lately. The 6 month anniversary of my father was time to take a bit of a mental break and focus more on my kids who at 3 and 4 have handled this pandemic better than some adults. They have just taken everything in their stride. They’re now getting to go do short trips to the shops wearing masks and this is so exciting to them.
I also recieved an unexpected message from to write a short story for a competition. I spent the last week working on this. This is something I would have never thought of doing but maybe Chris saw something in my writing that I didn’t. Thank you so much Chris for this push. I didn’t know I could do it until you told me to try.
The post above isn’t my short story. This is a poem I had written a couple of weeks back but hadn’t gotten around to putting graphics to it. The post is also about children and the disregard that some people have for their lives and existence. It particularly speaks to the unborn, stillborn or those for whatever reason didn’t make it and some peoples perception that these lives don’t matter. They do. They may not live on earth but they live in the hearts of those who lost them.
This is the last post I am going to do about children and the mistreatment of children for a while. I also wrote my short story on this subject, a pa******le ring. With so much in the news about it has become very consuming. Writing about it is important. Talking about it is important but most important is doing something about it.
To my followers who have stayed with me, thank you. For those who started to follow me while I wasn’t even posting, thank you. I think we feel pressurised to constantly write. I’ve come to realise that it’s not about your number of followers but the integrity. To those I follow, I follow you because I like and admire your work. When you need a mental break I will still be following you when you get back. It’s a nice opportunity to read older posts. I think we have to give ourselves a break every now and again and just say,

“You know, I can’t do it all today”

“Love to all and stay safe”