Where Am I?

where am i colourI wrote this when my two boys, who are now teenagers, were one and four. I loved and doted on them, but to escape for a weekend was BLISSFUL!

I was amazed when BBC Year of the Artist published this poem on their website.

  I’m “mum”, and I’m rushing to get out on time

I’m wiping a nose as I run

I’m rubbing a bruise and making a drink

And trying to make it all fun

where am i colourI’m “wife”, and I try hard to cook a nice meal

And listen to troubles and woes

His work shirts are ironed, as crisp as can be

I kiss him good-bye as he goes

where am i colourI’m “char lady”, make sure the house is kept clean

I sweep and I dust and I mop

I hoover and sparkle, and just the next week

I have to re-do the whole lot!

where am i colour I’m “housekeeper” too, and I have to make sure

I stock up with food to the brim

With fruit, veg and meat, with goodies and treats

I don’t quite know where to begin

where am i colour I’m “cook”, so I bake, and I stir fry, and more

I’m trying to think of a meal

I’m tired of my repertoire, worn out by food

Can’t think of a dish to appeal

where am i colourI feel so segmented in all of these roles

Together they fly in the air

There’s many more balls, to juggle as well

It all seems a little unfair . . .

where am i colourIn this whirlwind of duties, I’m hidden below

Swallowed up by the jobs that I do

And the ‘me’ that I am does not get a chance

I’m bursting to try and break through

where am i colour I want to discover the freedom I had

To be known and addressed by my name

Discover the talents I know that I’ve got

And do what I want for a change

where am i colourExhausted and worn out by routine, demands

I’m sinking, I’m sinking, where’s ‘me’?

To shake off mundane, the slog and the rest

I’m needing, right now, to be free

where am i colour So what will I do? That’s the pleasure, you see

To do as a whim in a breeze

Relax and read books, go shopping, have tea

With only one person to please

where am i colour To put on some make-up and clothes which are nice

To walk without pram or a list

To swing in big circles and jump in the air

To get to know me, I insist . . . 

where am i colourTo try on those clothes, which I cannot afford

To eat with a civilized air

To look through my sunglasses, stare at the world

To look like I haven’t a care

where am i colour The weekend was short, and the time went so quick

I’m loaded with dread of return

I love both my children, my husband, it’s true

But time spent with me’s what I yearn 

where am i colourGoodbye to myself, say goodbye for a while

I’m hoping we’ll meet again, please

So back to the cleaner, the cook and the rest

Goodbye to my weekend of ease

© Nicky Clifford, October 2000

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