The Tramp


Eloquent in poverty
staging life in comedy.
Scatterbrained his vagrant heart
immortalised in his art.

Keystone are his baggy clothes
impersonates life he knows,
hardship on the silver screen
once so poor he lives a dream.

Dignified a charming twit
bumbling in his genius wit.
He speaks in mime its charade
cinematically displayed.

Charlie’s – in his bygone age -
humour kept the world engaged.
In black and white days are gone
it was his stage how he shone.

©Jacqui Slade


When you’re lost my baby girl
and your mind is in a swirl.
When you doubt life or feel weak
if despair rolls down your cheek,
as tears escape from your eyes
frustrated by all that you despise,
and sleep won’t come night is long
remember babe you are strong.
Hold on tight to all your hope,
you will find a way to cope
with the things that get you down
in time life will turn around.
All good things will come to you,
you might think not but it’s true.
In dark light will steer your heart
don’t let life tear you apart.
Lift your spirits read the quotes
in love of you that I wrote.
You will see though I’m not there
my advice because I care.
Always and eternally
in times of strife you’ll think of me,
Life is hard but so are you,
so don’t get sad or get blue.
Forever more I’ll be your guide,
I’ll be standing by your side,
in spirit there helping you.
My baby girl I love you.

©Jacqui Slade

Autism and food packaging

I really think that food manufacturers and at least one of the big supermarkets should bring out an ASD range of food whereby they never interfere or change either the packaging or the recipe ever! People actually do not understand the horror a parent of a child with autism feels when they go to buy one of the few foods there child will eat only to find the packaging has changed it it has a ‘new improved flavour’
It’s like thanks for that I am sure your sales will increase for you doing that (not) and there is another food my child will probably never eat again, it is all very well when someone tells you not to worry a child won’t starve themselves but a child with autism will because food is such a big deal for them with all the sensory issues and fear of change. It is so hard when your child will hardly eat a thing and so the highlight of my week has been my son eating 7 yoghurts on Wednesday along with a whole packet of pink panther wafer biscuits. It was like yippee! So happy just for that. It always the smallest things that make me so happy

The Kissing Gate

Once we crossed the kissing gate
bound hand in hand. Improper
fools without thought, we stumbled
in desperate flurry but
there’s no dignity in haste.
We passed over love as we
walked aimless down unknown paths.
Our loyalty was displaced.
We chanced upon misfortune
in swollen rivers seeping
in regret, stirring all of
the things we wish to forget.
We thought we would be buoyant
verdant and rich in pastures fresh,
yet the frost still settled down
in the things we left unsaid.
Winters kiss was icy keen
on your lips she was wanton.
Jealously she stung my face
as she brushed past. She was so
bitter and ugly in truth.
Now we find our selves left cold,
the brittle blades evergreen
as the earth becomes hardened.
So do we. Our hearts broken
we thought the grass was greener
like it was in the Spring, new life
regenerating our souls.
As we walk burdened by our
delusion the silence speaks
to reevaluate life,
and so we turn around in
some dire hope that we’ll escape.
As we approach the stile once
more misshapen and outworn,
with caution I tread. The air
shivers in our discontent.
Spectral whispers of cutting
barb words linger in our heads.
We stand there wooden and bare
our feelings exposed and I
wonder if you would now care
to offer your hand as a token
of affection or will
I freeze in your rejection.
And maybe I should not take
your heart in fear of what has gone.
In superstition we will
step in our trepidation
alone to not dare tempt fate.
I know we will find our way.
We will not bow and break like
the dead twigs beneath our feet.
Diligent we will make it,
our eyes are never jaded
as we are bound heart in heart.

©Jacqui Slade

The Golden Lion

Remember when the lion roared
and called to us when we were bored.
Escaping the ferocious beast
of memories. In it we’d feast.
In its den we would cavort.
In revelry it would court
the misfits and the troubled souls.
Raising spirits in their console.
As we prowled within its midst,
something happened and it was bliss.
We found we were gripped by the teeth
of love in it we were bequeathed
with happiness and family,
we tamed the demons you and me.
We are wildcats we are strong
in pride together we belong.
Our sorrows have been truly drowned
in the past with courage found.
In sobriety we won’t weep,
the golden lion is asleep.
I’m fond of it I can’t pretend
when we were lost it was our friend.

©Jacqui Slade

Billy Liar – by Keith Waterhouse


A bit about the author:
Keith Waterhouse CBE was born in Hunslet, Leeds, West Yorkshire in 1929. He wrote several screenplays
as well as several novels. He died in 2009.
Billy Liar was his second novel and was first published in 1959 by Michael Joseph.
This edition published by Penguin books in 1967.

Billy Liar is the story of Billy Fischer, a 19 year old adolescent living in the fictional Yorkshire town of Stradhoughton with his parents and his grandmother.
Disillusioned and depressed by life in a small town and the sobriety and boredom of his job as a clerk in an undertakers Billy spends a lot of his time daydreaming.
He flits between the real world, his idealistic fantasy of reality and a whole fantasy world.
He dreams of being a script writer for a comedian in London.
Having been so caught up in his own fantasy he has been negligent and deceitful in his job and with three girlfriends Billy has a habit of telling lies which earn him the nickname Billy Liar, and one Saturday, unfortunately for Billy they all catch up with him.

Billy Liar is a classic. It is a timeless tale which is brilliant in its portrayal of a 19 year old adolescent.
Being an adult but still yet young in maturity of mind and the desire to take on the responsibility of having to be a grown up. You can’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for him.
Billy in all his dreams doesn’t really have the ambition to follow them through as he is yet too fearful and young in his thinking to really go for it and live.
Billy is a true representation of the confusion and frustration of an adolescent living in a small town.

Embodied in life

Embodied in life our souls live to die
as mortals, they fall in love with the Earth.
In awe of its beauty questioning why
they are conscious and of death and birth

they look for meaning in stars and in books.
Needing something to believe in but truth.
For life is short and a rebirth looked
for icons and eternal youth.

From non existence they wish to abstain
So in fear of nothing they control
a utopian afterlife in deign
of character and to own their whole.

Heaven is in love appreciating life
in gratitude we breathe we survive.

©Jacqui Slade