Ko-fi

Sunday 2 November 2014

Murmurings...and changes

Life is about to undergo some pretty hefty changes... leave the job at the hotel at the end of November and headed towards 'hustings' to see if I might run as an MP for the Green Party. It's all a bit like free-falling as there are no clear signposts at this stage.. still, not like I haven't been here before (staying still is rare) so not overly vexed.

The other aspect of my life (activism) stays stable as long as the situation we live in, doesn't - so the seeking to prevent fracking and claw back democracy will remain the priority regardless.

Thinking I'll get back into the world of communications and hoping I can craft it to be freelance enough to feed me whilst providing enough flexibility and free time to fit in the activism and (perhaps) politics.

This week I was told a poem I had written had come second in the Pendle War Poetry 2014 competition and would be included in an Anthology - which is lovely, I get so little time for writing it at the moment. The entry was called Not in my Name and is at the end of this post. Which brings me to this that resulted from the competition...

 This link ...is to Murmurings - a little collection of poems I've written since 2004 that is available as a PDF download - although I have offered the opportunity for purchase (nourishing my dwindling income) - I am more than happy to provide it free. I bypassed go-between sites for publishing and selling and stubbornly found the ingredients to attach the thing to my Blog - which made me aware that I could do with some technical and graphics skills - it all took so long!! Expect imperfection and you won't be disappointed.


click here to order



NOT IN MY NAME...
Threats never uttered are whispered verbatim,
creating fear of a hypothetical invasion,
as media strings play methodical hype,
orchestrating the public, to conform to type.

Spoon fed with fear on news laden,
heaped with visual connotations,
of danger lurking at our doors,
of certain death for those who ignore,
the hypothesis laid down as fact,
the incessant chitter, incessant chat,
gets us addicted to leader's projection,
junkies now for his brand of protection.

Dependent and needy,
craving, hungry, greedy.
Surrounded by blue teeth grinning barbarity,
sneering, seething images of vulgarity.

So our boys are pushed up to the wire,
shot with propoganda so they will not tire,
of protecting their families at home,
from evil doers looking to dethrone,
the powers that watch over us…
…the nervous dependent populous.

We must be saved from the supposed threat.
We must invade the terrorist nest.
We must kill the alien foe.
We must,
we must,
we must overthrow.

But first we must trust the source of the truths,
before we feed the war, any more youths.
Before the troops, lose one more brave soul.
Before the powers, reach any more goals.
Before Libya and Syria,
Iran and North Korea,
fall foul of our leaders' dictates of behaviour -
refuse to appreciate us as their savior.

Before we beat them into submission,
maybe we could establish just whose permission,
was granted before we shed so much blood,
before a trickle was blasted into a flood.

Before the next purple-tipped finger is crushed,
we must realise that "we the people" have been hushed,
for too long now, kept in our place,
as fellow humans are easily erased,
by bold leaders brandishing our names,
claiming we desired all of this shame.


Not in my name, not in my name, not in my name.

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