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Very Important Invitation

close up of the centre of a flower
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VULVA! Did I capture your attention?
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Each of us have our own experiences, relevance, compliments & complaints to mention
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Race, religion, gender – cervical screening has little constraints it’s about prevention and
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You are in control.

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Investment in your health, time to talk, education about look & feel
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More talking about our bodies, knowing the facts and questions we have all tried to conceal
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Putting it frankly, simply and laid bare
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Out in the open and then you find yourself sat in the chair
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Red rosy cheeks, being asked about your periods, dryness, sex, safety and infections
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That’s an odd question
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And did the nurse forget to mention?
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Not only do we want to do your cervical screening but we want to check your safe at home too
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That’s the aim of our holistic game.

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Invest in your time to learn, to read, to look after what you need
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Now if you ARE in need we can promise you one thing can be guaranteed
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Very Important Invitation will be here to advocate, elaborate, commemorate
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Interested in you being in control and feeling at the centre of your care
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Tackling whatever your goal,
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And combining care and making sure you know…we are
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There. There to listen, talk, hear your view, change the future of experiences for you
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If there is someone you want to bring, someone you trust
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Oh – you mean they are welcome too? Yes
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No matter what, you are in control.

Laura Cobbold, Very Important Invitation Project, Suffolk GP Federation


 

Currently Popular Poems:

Love Poem To Myself

Yes, I can, I surely can. Reminding myself that I always have and always will. No need to worry, no need to fret, no need to bite my nails, nor lie awake, nor forget, in clammy doubt wasting sleep-time on negative imaginings. I make positive probabilities more certain and real. I am calm, I am kind, I am fun, brave and generous too. Smiling more than most I see the good in everything you do. Deep breathing with a cheerful heart, I’ll fight your corner, feel your pain, make you laugh. I am a ‘doer’, a helper, a friend. I align my thoughts to health. I let go and I love, dancing in rain and on the edge of a cliff. Silence is better than to deliver a curse, I like to smile and to listen. Encouraging others to be the best that they can be. I am a mender, a maker of things and I am mindful of my consumption. I plant trees, sing songs, make tea and play simply and fairly. I will be as I am the intuitive, the sorter, the lover of life, the mender of minds, the ideas person, the performer, th...

Chromatic Cornflowers

Chromatic cornflowers Pigments aplenty blooming Nowton park trooping. June colours endeavour A visual adventure Periwinkle magenta. Wedgwood, Delft blue The colours a clue To nectar collecting. Not Sainsburys points But food for honey A botanical checkpoint. Archie

Lost Moments

Lost Moments And searching souls Wasted time Looking for justice. Enters the courtroom A shudder of silence. Reflected sadness And searching souls A blanket covering Masking identities. Seeking survival of ideas and opportunities. Jenny

Always with Us

The morning is cold, The sky is black, An emotion called grief, Is on your back. The storm is ferocious, Emotions peek and trough, The boat is disabled, By our indescribable loss. Gradually the storm, Will begin to ease, Giving breath to talk, Reflect and believe. But just round the corner, With just the breeze, The storm returns, You are on your knees. The sea is unpredictable, The sails carry us along, We begin to feel, Our loved one isn’t gone. With love and care, These storms will pass, The boat’s in order, The sails half mast. It’s a long journey, The boat begins to move with grace, It makes you feel relaxed, And puts a smile on your face, We can recall the memories, With all the love in our heart, They will always be with us, We will never be apart.   by Tonya  

Blue Sky

Blue sky And clouds float by Looking up high I can see why They do fly Blue sky Mavis

Lichen a Plenty

Lichen a plenty,  With your crispy and crusty Foliose forms Lichen reveals the Hidden substrate beneath. Ashley

‘R’ You Saving The World?

Some of us R trying: Recyclers, re-users and repairers; riders of bicycles and rev-ers of electric cars; reducers of emissions with bio-mass boilers, roof solar panels, and residents who use them, really sustainable developers,         with rainfall harvesters and run-off tanks; regular givers and those who limit usage of finite resources; radical learners who know what’s safe, not toxic nor wasteful; radiant fashionistas in natural fabrics, not man-made rayons; rich beauties who never use micro-beads in ‘products’; radgie gadgies who put their newspapers into the blue sulo; ruddy faced growers of organics who reject chemicals; reflective designers of biodegradables who create wrappings      and rubbish that rots rapidly; religious genetic engineers who’ve worked out the ethics; researchers who grow food with hydroponics; readable writers who explain global warming,      so oRdinaRy people understand; realistic politicians (The Gre...

A Way of Life

It’s become a way of life this summer, the canvas bag slung over my shoulder hoping not to need it hoping the sky will stay blue long enough to get a walk by the sea. It’s become a way of life this summer, wearing my green jeans, wearing a matching sweatshirt to keep the wind out, wearing green wherever possible to match my green cagoule in case I need it. It’s becoming a way of life, it’s true, this life of uncertainty which nags at the back of your mind and keeps you constantly looking up the weather on your phone. It’s a way of life, this anxiety which sends me scurrying for help when it mushrooms out of control in the middle of the night. Julia

Mental Health

When is it really quiet? Underwater bubbles pop and sounds muffle. When drowning screams are choked by the deluge into mouth and larynx. Then there’s the sinking, the floating, the bloating. A Quakers’ meeting is quiet enough except for sniffs, breathing, the odd shuffle and the builders outside shouting and cursing about late cement. Then there’s catching up, and clicking back. Laying in clover and ox-eyes on a field is quiet but the wind wiffles leaves, whilst high up a buzzard screeches her woes. Does her mate listen? Then there’s the underground-scratching of moles. I meditate to find the quiet, swim to find stillness. I turn off radios, T.V., iphone, my mind. Yet cables buzz, aircraft streak across quiet skies plants and trees creak and sing as they grow. I seek the grail as I dance echoes of pain and joy I read my poems aloud, and then comes the silence. Sue Foster

Portuguese Seahorse (long-snouted) Living on the Edge

A sea creature, to cradle, adore - escorting its life mate across millennial seascapes. A bobbing coquettishness Swimming awkwardly in Algarvian currents.  Horse-tails like baby-hands reach out for Neptune’s parental comforts,  wrapping around gentle swaying seagrasses. A delicate dance and exchange of your 400 young;  Your once-in-a-life-time long-snouted mate, with ultimate fatherly caresses. The collection of all the Silvery tears can’t compensate for Anthropocene encroachments: An ocean of plasticity, rapacious ripping fishing nets. A screen-based sea of humanity’s unkindness. Snouts snuffling, a scorched earth tribe, A noisy distracted indifference: Your impending homelessness Your offsprings’ melancholic fears. New Gods empty out the seas Ladling in their toxicity and carelessness: A seagrass meadow depletion Your cherished young rendered fatherless.     Mark Ereiraguyer