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By Sandra Banawich
ISBN: 978-1-84991-549-6
Published: 2011
Pages: 56
Key Themes: Mental Illness, Psychosis, Poetry, Short Stories
About the Author
Sandra Banawich is the second eldest of six children. She was born on Merseyside and had a troubled childhood when she was badly bullied.
It wasn’t until Sandra had married with three small children that she had her first breakdown. It came as quite a shock and she had to prove to herself that she had value as a human being. After being labelled with schizophrenia Sandra trained as a Citizens advice worker .
Following further episodes of psychosis she set about becoming a Local Labour Councillor and was very active as a campaigner in that role. Sandra was the first to give written evidence to the Parliamentary Sub Committee against the Draft Mental Health Bill.
Sandra is now a NHS Trust Member Councillor of the Five Borough Trust where she lives. She is actively involved in trying to improve the service user experience and sits on the Clinical Risk and Governance Committee.
Following the success of her debut book A Broken Thing tales from the Ebony Cat
In her pen name Sarah Banawich
Sandra has focused on a second collection of poetry, verse and short stories
Book Extract
At the Beach Head
The Rain is in, blanket sharp as ice
The wind in pieces, restless and cold
A smoke sky rages and the wilderness wanders
It tosses torrid seas of grief.
Scream shining arcs of searing light
Blacken the ocean beneath the thunder
Swirl and maze, a mighty maelstrom
Blow violent breath across the blue.
Churn anger and shake the battered waters
The deep is in turmoil in shades of passionate grey
Bellow the heavens torn tempestuous asunder
Crashing rocks that demolish the white walled cliff.
Thrash the boat and drag out the squalid sailors
Torn turn inward to drink the winds demise
Death is in the waters waded out to sea
Metered in brilliant sprays of surf and light.
Spew foam from the fetid white waves
Cast out to beat the sickening shore
Roll and pin the breaking vessel
Mutilated against the storm.
And bodies buoyant in the angry sea
Into the maelstrom mashed on the rocks
Flotsam and jetsam of old Uncle Bob
And his valiant crew.
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