Creative corner
We recognise that not everyone with an acquired brain injury gets support and therapy through meeting people. Some of us like a more creative outlet when we are struggling with things, be it through art, music, creative writing or other craft activities. Others like to do these because they simply give us pleasure.
This part of the website is where we can publish your art, poems, stories or photographs.
Sometimes, reading what others have said, helps you to also understand what you are dealing with.
If you have something you would like to share with us, please send it to us. We can post it with your name on or anonymously. Just let us know what you would prefer.
These are some of the recent submissions we have had to creative corner. Our members often use this forum to write, draw or paint representations of their injuries or other things in their lives as an outlet for their thoughts.
My story
1969
“Look out. It's going to hit us!”
Or something like that...........
She did.
Hit us I mean.
A 65 year old woman, being taught by her 75 year old husband I think was the story?
I shall ask Bruce.
Ailsa and Mark were shunted up the road. No safety belt – I took their place after I had bashed my head first on the side of the pale-blue Mini.
It was a write-off.
So was I.
Left in the gutter.
Weeks later, or maybe it could have been then, I heard someone say ….
“It's only a question of time for her”..........
I thought - “Bugger me.”
Did not really comprehend what was going on. That attitude I think got me through I think.
Fifty years on nearly, I have to stop fighting now...........
A sideways-on collision. She put her foot on the accelerator instead of the brake.
An instant, and the Gypsy's forecast when I was ten hung in the balance. Appleby Fair's Fortune Teller. An annual event.
And here I am a-writing. Wanting to know for the first time really.
Smatterings leaked out surreptiously over the years.
Back double-padlocked in the trunk in the cellar they went.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.............
SR
Long-Gone
Many Long-Gone Years
Unknown, silent tears
No explanation coming
Time just dawdled by
Still silent? Humming
Metamorphosis nigh
Along endless Time...
Surreptitiously Improved
Crawled and gradual
Treasured, even loved
Affection; sensual
Remained a blank void
Anger; always annoyed
With no understanding
Of its' massive enormity
A gargantuan Giant
In control; not me
Bury it deep, deep
Underground cellar
Not even one peep
Until now.........
So Why? How?
SR
For J.
She arrived with a beam
It seemed
There was such
Apparent warmth
Antennae sensitive
And adapting
So accepting
(This last one is
My mission in life!)
"Tell me your story"
She said
So I did
In dribs and drabs
This morning
The shoulders
Or maybe the nape
Of the neck
Seem to have
Released
Even relinquished
A modicum
Of the remaining
Marshmallows
Metamorphosed
From
The weighty
Gargantuan
Sack of potatoes!
Jettisoned out
One by one
Over the years
How I don't know
But I did
"I can and I will"
Firmly in the Driving seat!
I just wanted to.
SR
Still Simmering
The bubbles have
Been disturbed
Popping, with care mind
At least they are
Trying to shift
I have to let them
Give permission
Here, in the Mountains
It is so much easier.
SR