October 31, 2015

31st October, 2015

On this Hallowed Eve, I mourn. The world is burning and that is no longer news. Waiting and watching, we’ve given up hope. Of course we’ll say some are more at fault than others. The one with gasoline and the matchstick who started the fire in Indonesia perhaps. Maybe the one who paid this person? Perhaps the industrial farmers behind that money.

Remember why Indonesia is burning though. Remember why 500,000 people are choking on ignited peat and rainforest. Remember that the fires have been started to clear land for monoculture oil palm plantations. Remember all those goods we consume that use palm oil. It’s easy. Almost everything uses it now,apart from locally produced goods. (These include most processed food, cosmetics and toiletries, fyi) Didn’t you know we are all complicit in this ongoing ecocide?

This is why I mourn. This is why I know no one but the people on the ground in Borneo will throw literal and figurative buckets of water on that fire. We will watch because we don’t see the alternatives any more. It’s too difficult to transition. I mean what the hell do we brush our teeth with instead of Colgate? What will we wash ourselves with if not with Ponds and Pears? What do we eat instead of Mars and Kit Kat? No. It’s not that we’re all people who want to watch the world go up in flames. It’s just that we don’t know how to stop adding fuel to it.

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October 31, 2015

31st October 2015

On this Hallowed Eve, I mourn. The world is burning and that is no longer news. Waiting and watching, we’ve given up hope. Of course we’ll say some are more at fault than others. The one with gasoline and the matchstick who started the fire in Indonesia perhaps. Maybe the one who paid this person? Perhaps the industrial farmers behind that money.

Remember why Indonesia is burning though. Remember why 500,000 people are choking on ignited peat and rainforest. Remember that the fires have been started to clear land for monoculture oil palm plantations. Remember all those goods we consume that use palm oil. It’s easy. Almost everything uses it now,apart from locally produced goods. (These include most processed food, cosmetics and toiletries, fyi) Didn’t you know we are all complicit in this ongoing ecocide?

This is why I mourn. This is why I know no one but the people on the ground in Borneo will throw literal and figurative buckets of water on that fire. We will watch because we don’t see the alternatives any more. It’s too difficult to transition. I mean what the hell do we brush our teeth with instead of Colgate? What will we wash ourselves with if not with Ponds and Pears? What do we eat instead of Mars and Kit Kat? No. It’s not that we’re all people who want to watch the world go up in flames. It’s just that we don’t know how to stop adding fuel to it.

October 22, 2015

Live

Live.
Because every moment can be filled with love if we choose it.
Because every interaction can be one of tear-jerking emotion.
Because we are fucking more than stardust fashioned in humanoid shapes.
Because we are consciousness. (Or one form of it).
Because our drunken beings are just as alive, if not more.
Because we can paradoxically become one while being only one.
Because death is always the next step, waiting, never in a hurry, patient with an ever-welcoming embrace.

Written on the 13th of September, 2015

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October 20, 2015

Conversations

Conversations

                           L

   O

S

T

In trails of broken calls

And empty-everyday.

Words stumble as

Thoughts evaporate

Under memories

Of past

Of present becoming

One and none.


Written on the 9th of September, 2015

October 20, 2015

The Eternal March

Steadily in silence,
We troop our sisters and brothers,
Our mothers and fathers, fallen from
the reign of lead and fire of a great nation,
To a long line of ready-made graves.

Each earth-born, shrunken and broken,
Battered in body and spirit -beaten back into clay.
To ease the dead:We line ammunition-box coffins with
the sweetest of honey from
the tallest of trees.

We imagine the ants will
consume them,
We imagine they will feed them,
In turn we will be reborn of, and from, the earth.
As ants, we will keep swarming, keep dreaming, until we are fed and free.


Written on the 29th of August, 2015

April 20, 2014

The First and Only

That word.

That breath of the wild wind that howls

Of storms brewing in the east,

Of the falling of hills and trees into memory.

It pulls at my wandering feet,

Back to my first.

 

I recall a stumble and fall into your dew-strewn embrace,

The ripped backsides from your stony licks,

Your smell of broken needles underfoot,

Your countless cawing, cackling, cooing conversations.

 

Now I ache to share them across time, across lives,

But they have stolen you in my absence.

 

My seething voice will throw itself at dreams of the iron walls

That would keep you from me.

It will echo through your caves that have collapsed from lust,

It will rage amongst the broken leaves fallen upon your now naked breast,

It will rise like a bee against those heavy-footed beasts

That spew poison at you.

 

Forgive my infidelity, my love.

I brought this pain upon you

With my longing for immortality,

To endure in concrete.

To the west I had looked with my people,

And together we craved to fly upon wings of paper fantasies

That you tore apart with your tears,

Bringing me crashing into your ever-warm, ever-giving bosom,

Forgiving and asking only for my heart.

February 9, 2013

Nostalgia

A day passes,

A hop, a skip, a jump.

A day passes,

A tear collected in a jar.

A jar sits on the window-sill,

Collecting dust,

Breaking up the light into dark colours.

Gloom grows into them as the days pass.

Deeper.

Weeks pass.

Months pass.

Years pass.

The jar remains.

The jar is covered by a thick film of dust.

The jar wiped with moist, quivering fingers.

The jar sits on the window-sill,

Glowing bright,

Breaking up the light into dark colours,

Growing brighter, taking shape,

Weaving rainbows onto a tapestry.

Rich, deep, heavy.

Trace each trail of colour back to the jar.

A jar with a heart.

A hop, a skip, a jump.

June 9, 2012

The floodgates …

The floodgates seem to have opened,

There’s a rush that seems to say so too;

Like lifting your feet off the firmament 

And falling on your back into the welcoming blue. 

June 2, 2012

Cooking.

They’re simmering slowly over an open flame,

Those hard, tough examples of life’s struggle,

I’ve left them there, to test their mettle,

But all they do is lead up to shame.

 

It’s a shame, it’s a shame.

My insides look like tenderized meat strewn over a fire,

Drying up, choking up, dying.

Why is the question.

 

Time and again, those dancing fingers of flame caress

and, burn into me.

Why? Why? Why?

Why do i not just keep away?

 

Faltering, I

Am

Stumbling

Through

My words,

Spluttering

pieces of a

sentence

or two.

 

“Well-done pickled innards!” shouts the fiery waves.

God-awful it sounds.

Where would that ever go except back into the abyss.

Into the warm embrace of the Mother.

 

Distant and cold you say? Emotionless?

Please do forgive me.

May 7, 2012

The Smiths – There is a Light that Never Goes Out

I want to take you out tonight! 🙂