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Thursday Connectors: Words From Our Minds?

By Farzana Hakim

Hi, all. Welcome to May’s Thursday Connectors, with me, your host, Farzana.

May is always a busy month for me and my mind is always all over the place in worry and panic. This year is no different. I’ve loads of work pending! My children have exams and, being the stress-pot that I am, I’m on their case, making sure they’re revising and doing what they’re supposed to be doing! On top of that, the weather is getting warm; the flowers are growing nicely in my garden, adding to my chores and adding to my bouts of hay fever!

Yet, I am OK. Soldiering on… Looking forward to June and then July and then the summer break. And, believe it or not, I’ve actually set myself some me-time for the summer, where I’ve got a whole page-long list of stuff I’m hoping to do. One of those things is to complete my new novel, The Chief Of The Atlantic. Well, the first draft, at least.

But at this moment, my mind keeps questioning whether I’ll get to complete any of these things – or, as in previous years, will these wishes simply become chores, and my summer instead, spent lazing around from my home to my mum’s, with the odd weekend away with the family? Perhaps I’ll keep a log, a journal, of my summer this time, as inspiration to do the ‘to do’ list.

My Connectors today are somewhat like this, too. Full of hope, yet laced with questions and uncertainty and drawbacks. I really find that, using our words creatively when our minds go off on tangents, can be quite soothing. Healing, even. This is why I need to take my own advice, and begin scribbling and doodling and writing in my set of fancy notebooks I’ve kept on my bookshelf for years but have never ever used, in case I spoil them, because they’re so pretty. Get a grip, Farzana!


Let me introduce our first Connector. It’s a superb piece of fiction from Gertcha Cowson.

Hi, Gertcha. Let’s connect:

The Unwanted Visitor

You were not invited, yet you crash my party, waltzing into my existence in your various forms. BEGONE!” I say, but you look me in the face with malice and with devious intentions.

“Begone foul Devil,” I cry. “Begone!”

“But I have been your guest since birth,” the Devil replies.

“You are no longer welcome in my house!” I cry, for all and sundry to hear my declaration.

For years, I’ve worn the Devil like a heavy overcoat, wearing me down into the muddy ground. Pushing my mouth into the sod and making me chew on the crud, just to be catapulted up into the sky, where I don’t fly or glide and swoop; instead, I cannon uncontrollably, waiting for when I fall, for I never simply land!

“Begone!” I cry once more, but the Devil remains stubborn, sneering at me in the mirror.

The eternal tenant lives upstairs:

  • Forever banging on the walls!
  • Forever playing music on high volume!
  • Forever borrowing sugar from my cupboards!
  • Forever whispering through the keyhole!

Sitting alone in my empty room, desperately trying to find peace and quiet, something I have never known the luxury of. The Devil is constantly scratching on my windows, fishing for an angry reaction.

“BEGONE!” I cry at the Devil. “You’re not welcome in my house!”

I can hear the Devil sniggering through the keyhole while whispering, “I am forever your tenant!”

“NEVER!” I remonstrate. Frustrated at my own temper, I close the blinds, block the keyhole and play some music, loudly!

  • If I don’t see him then he does not exist in aspectu!
  • If I don’t hear him then he does not exist in volumine!
  • If I don’t think about him then he does not exist in mihi mente!

He also lives in my dreams, where he gets to work confusing and confounding my thoughts and reasoning. Waking up in a fog of uncertainty and self-doubt, always making me question what I know to be fact. “I will not believe your foul lies, Devil!” I declare.

He always lays in wait, waiting for me to drop my guard, a guards I have spent a lifetime shoring up, building, reinforcing and constantly repairing. The Devil is patient, very patient and he waits for the slimmest of breaks in my armoury.

As soon as there’s the smallest weakness, he’s in like a shot.

  • Steering me away from the light!
  • Steering me towards the cliff’s edge!
  • Steering me towards despair!
  • Steering me towards the grave!

Yet I stand up to him and laugh, albeit a little manically, in the Devil’s face. This unsettles the Devil, for he knows not how to respond to it.

I go to yell in his face, “BEGONE DEVIL, I SAY, BEGONE!”

But as I am just about to bellow, I suddenly notice the Devil break into a look of satisfaction. Before, he was confused by my mirth; now, he quickly regathers himself when he sees I’m about to lose my temper.

I bite my teeth and take a long, deep breath and find my control.

I say to the Devil, “Begone, Devil, begone,” in a measured, mild tone.

The Devil looks at me, confounded and stupefied, but counters with a cutting remark about my poetry. “Who are you kidding, with all this nonsense?” the Devil hisses. “Go and hide in your corner; out of sight, out of mind, where no one will know of your existence.”

It occurrs to me that the Devil continuously feeds upon my anger, fears, anxieties and tears. So, I stand there and simply smile at him.

For a day and a week, the Devil tries to break me. The calmer I remain, the angrier he gets.

At first, the Devil tries to:

  • Simply irritate me!
  • Then he keeps pulling on my beard!
  • Followed by flicking my face!

The more I stand there smiling, the more the Devil loses his temper with me. He simply has no answer to my humour and non-violent stance.

After eight days, the Devil finally walks out and leaves me alone and, for the first time, I hear nothing; silence. A sound totally foreign to me, for I have never known peace and quiet.

Tears start rolling down my cheeks. The sound of silence is just so beautiful. For the first time ever, I can:

  • Hear my own thoughts.
  • See without blinkers.
  • Listen to the world with clarity.

I take a deep breath and, for once, it doesn’t taste of burnt ashes.

Now, when he comes round, I know not to give in to temptation and lose my temper, for the Devil feeds off our sins.

The Devil has been away for a while now, but I know he is never far. He may spring out of any shadow, or dark corner, and he will irritate me, pull on my beard and flick my face, but I will laugh, crack a joke and bless him, for the Devil will never know how to deal with non-violence and humour.

© Gertcha Cowson, 2022

Thank you so much for your creative piece of writing, Gertcha. It was a great read!


Our next Connector, Diane Mangal, sent in a fantastic poem that nicely sums up today’s theme.

Hi, Diane. Let’s connect:

It Does Not Change A Thing

However, you look at it
It is all the same
What brought the clouds
Can also bring the sunshine
Does not really change a thing

Change is the natural direction
Of the storm and human nature
Whatever you are going through
It does not really change a thing
Because it is all the same

Depending on how you look at it
It is all the same
What brought the clouds
Can also bring the sunshine
Does not really change a thing

The glass could be half full
Or it could be half empty
Depending on how you look at it
Does not really change a thing

© Diane Mangal, 2012

Thank you for this great poem, Diane. I could totally relate! Diane’s  Collection Of Lyrical Poems & Intuition is available on Amazon.


Our final Connector is Ray Miles, who has used words to connect nature and his emotions in a poem.

Hi, Ray. Let’s connect:

The Hope Of Spring

Dull days of winter out ahead,
Once green lushness brown and dead.
We wait for Spring, the verdant time
When warmth returns, and shoots will climb
Towards the sun. But wait! What’s this?
A breath of hope, it’s Nature’s kiss
Of life, to lift our spirits high,
To please our eyes and make us sigh
With joy. The snowdrop white,
A splash of colour, shining bright.
Reminding us of days ahead
When weather’s fine and flowers spread.
Then we’ll forget when Winter came
That we had played our waiting game.

© Ray Miles, 2022

Thank you for this hopeful poem, Ray.


That’s it for this month. I hope to see you again in June for some more Thursday Connectors. Until then, take care and remember to keep words flowing from your hearts, as our three Connectors have done. See you soon!


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I really do find that, using our words creatively when our minds go off on tangents, can be quite soothing.