Watching Her

Where I stand

Peering out from translucent panes

I see the tree, leaves turned golden at this time of year

Beyond the tree I see a house, their garden sharing our back fence

I’ve never known her name, the lady who lives there. Denting the grass with her bare feet early in the morning, hunched, not to be noticed.

And I see more houses next to hers, some with loft conversions and some with fancy glass conservatories

But further than that, I see nothing

So I wonder about life within four walls

Stains on the carpets and forgotten mugs hosting mould under the bed

Moth eaten silks and cheaply bought treasures held dear behind cupboard doors

Tidy sinks and bleach drenched bathtubs

Life thriving, shielded from judgements

Life dying, shielded from acknowledgment

Then I stop wondering and I’m called back to the tree. She is never timid

Sharing herself each day, no need to whisper secrets under the duvet

She stands naked with no apology

And I can see, never needing to apologise for noticing her beauty

Where I Stand

IMG_8164

Where I stand I feel mighty, like the warrior of woodpeckers, the communicator of common fulfilment. I am a cell, coasting playfully inside violet veins. Our great mother teaches us well, her lungs spread to frame the sunlight from my eyes.

Where I stand, there is no place I cannot be. Joy, strapped upon the wings of migrating birds, gliding so closely to my understandings. I am all that I see and all that I see is all I hope to know one day.

Where I stand I see unity drawn in messy portraits. Collections on mass create landscapes I’ve come to call home. Who I wonder shall inherit these?

That house upon the hill, do you see it? Look further afield, in the distance. Behind the rattling windows and red bricks live little witches who watch over the trees and paint faces on the moon. Owls live in the wall and I hear them call forward the sunset.

Do you hear them too?

Where I stand I raise my chin towards the sun, my vision is guided by angel trails decorating the turquoise blanket above me. They are careful, like moths, to not get caught within the flames of hazel sight. I blink, once, twice, thrice. Such action is my hope to catch a shadow but they are too quick, too rapid for human consumption.

Where I stand I listen, hearing playground chatter behind my stare. Boisterous fists play notes I remember. Yet I am still, travelling without trampling the grass and beheading snowdrops I fail to see beneath my thoughts.

Only God hears me now.

Only God hears the poetry I read silently from post-it notes stuck on my bedroom wall. Where did she go, that girl ironing raw and honest words? Words written by busy fingers scrambling to decipher unknown certainties. Words I have come to live by and this I regret, like the slurring of existence during alcohol stained nights.

Where I stand, in that tiny second I see the enormity of effect. In that second a whole life is resurrected to only be forgotten as I’m distracted. The present moment beckons and I salute.

The bark of a dog calls me to walk on.

And now I am gone someplace new.

 

#28 Grateful for Being Able To Switch Off (for a week!)

 

fullsizerender

When I was doing theatre studies at school, we studied feminist theatre, which essentially introduced me to feminism and I guess you could say I’ve been a feminist ever since (I then went on to study feminist performance for my degree). I remember the term ‘The Personal is Political’ and it’s only been in the last year that I’ve realised just how much these words have driven my life. The decisions I make, on a daily basis effect the WHOLE system in one way or another.

So, I’m getting personal in my political activism. I’m going to turn my phone off for a week. No text messages, no phone calls, no social media, no nothing.

How is this political?

Seriously, our attachment to phones is kinda scary. On a personal level I check mine way more than I need to. It’s become a habit. An addiction, an addiction that is ruling my life, not me ruling it. So, I am going to try and go without it, to break this unhealthy cycle. An iPhone is not an organ, it doesn’t keep my alive. Political? The powers that be rely so heavily on our fixation with social media – it keeps us occupied, distracted and maintains a level of anxiety and fear. Plus Money is EVERYTHING and where is money? Technology. And what is money? Power.

Not only that but the natural resources being drained to keep this industry alive is astronomical. I wish I could sit here and write ‘I am giving up ALL forms of technology, forever!’ but alas, I am keeping my computer on as I use it to write, I’ll also stay on email. I’m seeing this as an experiment, to notice the small (or great) changes it brings to my life. I know we live in a time when technology seems to be the backbone of existence, and don’t get me wrong, technology has empowered so many and social media can connect in wonderful ways. I guess I just need to do this, for me, to break a habit that needs breaking, for my own sanity.

We are living in a time of excess – information overload and more hunger for power. This is effecting everything and everyone. How can we expect huge changes if we are not willing to change ourselves and patterns of behaviour. Change must come from within to then be mirrored externally.

I am so grateful to be in position where I can make this choice, that my job does not revolve around the phone – I am going to take full advantage of this while I can.

We can only do our bit. For now, turning my phone off for a week feels like the needed change, for me and our planet.

Simple

fullsizerender

To the moon

Said the sun

‘Begin us some fun

Let such rules be heard

That all shall submerge

In the wild, to be free

Precariously

Doing all to survive

Roaming far and wide

Thinking they may control

How it works

But they don’t’.

Said the moon in return

‘But what should they learn?

If they stride too fast

What lessons will last

How will one reflect?

Acting circumspect

And driven by fear

Keeping hate too near

And they keep themselves going

But where do they go?’

A confident sun

Said ‘free will has begun!’

They’ll follow their call

Choosing big, choosing small

The truth will be theirs

And we’ll comfort their stares

As they pray for our voice

To guide their next choice

But deep down they know

Which way they’re to go

And they’ll do what is best

For their soul

To grow

‘Gosh’ the moon sighed

A worry reply

‘We’ve not thought this through

For what should we do?

If the soul of the meek

Should faintly speak

And reflection dies

As lies

They rise

And time drives a need

To travel with speed

From one place to another

To only discover

Dissatisfaction

And plan further action

To plough much more

Than they managed before!’

The sun scratched his head

‘Let’s try this instead

We work closely together

With land

And the weather

To us all may ponder

Their faith growing fonder

In what we create

To be loved’.

‘Agreed!’ said the moon

No moment too soon

When life

Gives life

All reasons to be.’

Responsibility

fullsizerender

Hate

Stems from me

Shredding judgement

Grows inside my pocket

I held so hard onto thinkin’

Knowing I knew rights from wrong

But shit, I know nothing

Days are a chalkboard

Smeared by grasping fingers

Blowing upon words to disappear

Within the breeze

Is dust

From us

Defiant in belief

‘Wrong you say?’

‘Fuck off, this is my way!’

We justify

And outright lie

Everyday doing something small

That needs not to be done

Because it eases

Softens the separation

I cry for a turtle bound by plastic

As I open a packet of fruit shipped from afar

It’s fucking bizarre

Consequences pave the decline

Labels of ‘mine’

Our mother

Her Earth

Heals without our pity

But hate we hold

And selves we scold

Kills her softly

Nothing lightens until the load is shared