This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Wednesday, 27 January 2016

The Phonecall

Well the phone rang this evening,
I looked at it,
I knew, 
so I didn't answer

What is the point of hearing?
I already knew 
I felt that you had gone
no one needed to say anything

It was raining earlier
as I passed your home
all the cars were there
but I didn't drop in
out of respect for your family's needs

I can't write any eloquent poetry,
every day after Christmas
you surprised me by going on living
but we said goodbye that day before you deteriorated further
and slept most of the time

And my memory of you in the end
was that lovely Christmas day
sitting beside your bed
helping you unwrap your gifts
because your hands had no strength left
but we were happy

Even that day
you were telling me you were there for me
but that we both had our limits
you knew how I had been hurt in the past

You never ever hurt me or overstepped my boundaries
we never fell out or had a cross word
I remember the sunlight on the cliffs
as I walked to meet you peacefully at the end of a day's walking

I remember us sitting at the viewpoint
with our ice creams
and we watched the ships on the sea
and just talked
and that is what friendship looks like
isn't it?

Are you really dead?
or will I wake up when you ring me
and ask first of all how I am,
you worried about me sometimes
when I was sick
even when you got so much more ill than I am

I couldn't stop you worrying and caring
but I accepted it as part of our friendship
and no guilt from the church could change
our care for each other from being genuine 
 a friendship that their damnation of me 
could never change

The best days were when we were out in the garden
you would bring a tray of tea and make a fuss
about my work and my life
and I would ask how your day had been 
we always had something to talk about
without any sadness or distress, usually laughter

I remember when you weren't as used to my humour
as my parents are,
so when I forgot I was with you and not them
and suggested cannabis as a hanging basket plant
you looked at me 
but I just laughed and laughed
and you did too

you supported me through everything
as I rebuilt my life
and it wouldn't have been possible without you
what more can I say?

Goodnight love,
sleep tight.



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