Tag: Poetry

How are you?

I am
Scintillating between rage and relentless optimism
Rage against:
Injustice
Unfairness
Hate
Anger
Egomania
Ignorance
Self-righteousness

Spending too much energy on fruitless anger
Nothing to come off it but exhaustion

Drawing from deep within:
Light
Connection
Support
Love
Friendship
Stories
Art
Make the light stick!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Not sure if this is still part of the poem or not ….

Stop being offended for the sake of satisfying self-righteousness
Your anger is not strength
It is fear compressed into tunnel vision
Strength is the ability to listen
To challenge your own worldview
To understand that the other
Holds as much worth as you

Into the Wild Woods

The fox cackled
Loudly
The night breeze caught
A scent
The mouse quietly
Scuttled
The bat chased
Intent
The hedgehog clomps
Noisy
The night owl carries
Prey


And I stand still–a monolith
A wild-woman overlay

Avenger Angel

When I was made
Into blood and bone
My shield was lost
My sword was thrown

Came to in a place of
Water and stone
Which I was now
To call my home

My flaming sword
Whereabouts unknown
A burning drive
For justice grown

Sabre tooth tiger
I pace alone
Melting glaciers
Leaving loam

Sacrificed, reborn, consigned, the henge
Beware I will be back for my revenge










Projections

A blacked out IG landing page. The IG image in centre, a spiral of words used in the poem circles around. In red it reads: You are blocked

Fear
Projects condescension and spite

Grief
Projects anger and rage

Shame
Projects self righteousness

Guilt
Projects dehumanisation

The Projector burns holes into the slides
Self righteousness has been in too long

Truth
A new slide
Projected onto the narcissist
Desperate to quelch the flames

Mirror images are waiting
Alone
Mirages of former hope
Waiting
Dreaming
That one day
One day not too late
You turn
To look
Into
The mirror

Projections can be fierce both for the person who (often) unknowingly projects, as their perception of reality and relationships can be challenging to live with. And the projectee as they constantly are given aspects which are not part of their reality or identity. Becoming aware from both sides is important.

Parental Alienation

Artwork

Interacting through art
The only way to be part
Warped realities thwart
Truth in love apart

Until you come into yourself
These are the times that’ll help
To plant your feet in kelp
Entangle your roots back to your self

That be the time you understand
The breadcrumbs leading across all lands

Where always meant to be the way home
Through tears and joy–back to blood and bones

That’ll be the days of brave
When standing tall within yourself is save

Went to see stepchild's graduation exhibition. The only way for dad to interact. PA was visious, aggressive, full of lies and warped realities. Don't know how many times I wished we understood PA earlier.

Man from Another Time

Panting he stood on the platform
Red tongue nervously flicking over bloody burst lips
Gulping for air, for water, for life
His train gone
Taillights blinking out
Like his vanishing star

Things changed too much
People lost caring
Caring about borders, about othering
About rules
Chaos everywhere
He couldn’t cope
Hate burnt his heart, his soul
Muddled his mind
And now
Now his train left and he is stuck
In the land of plenty
With

No.
Way.
Out.

Roots

A digital collage made with vintage papers overlaid with vintage flower drawings. The tones are all yellow and earthy. Writing says: we are woven into stories, stories are woven into us. Which story are you going to chose?

As I said we are all woven into stories
Stories are woven around us
—through us
We are made of stories
GAGATATACATATGGCTAGCAAAGGAGAAGAAC…
It’s easier to say: ‘Once upon a time.’
Than read out loud encoded double helix stories
Of who we are and where we came from
A roadmap to the past

To the ones who brought pain
Your are of my blood
I am of your blood
I carry your story
But I live my own
I am not responsible for your decisions
I am responsible for mine
I won’t carry your guilt, shame and anger
I carry my own light

To the ones who loved unconditionally
Your blood sings in my veins
I stand in your strength
Your light amplifies mine
I carry your compassion
Your magic is my wonder
I feel your love still
Your joy carries me through rough seas
Even though I never knew you
You are part of me
I am part of you

Historic Trauma


Dissociative fog 
A distorted lense of the past
Violence not understood
‘It’s just what it is, isn’t it?’

Life
The times
Society
Nothing to do but move

Move forward, onward, wayward, upward, downward

Stalwart 

Run, crawl, walk, limp, hike, roll
keep moving 

She watches me 
Hidden eyes from underneath a blanket

‘I rather not.Move, I mean.’

We all stay save differently.

‘I just watch you move.’

I know she will move. 
Eventually. 
Trust the process.
Everything has its time.
You can’t heal on schedule.

Don’t listen, never listen:

To the musts, the shoulds, the ought tos

No. No you never can ‘just’ 
Do.

While you move, freeze, fight
Don’t hurt anyone else
This is not your job

Mind you.
Hurting yourself isn’t a good plan either.

So move, freeze, pick a fight 
A good fight
Listen to me now, just for once:
Fight for something 
Not against

That’s it the main lesson.
It’s about directing the energy
Destruction or Creation?



A Bad ADHD Day

I hickle-dee-pickled my way through the day
Bumping my toes exclaiming: ‘Au weh!’
Loosing my coffee somewhere in the house
Making a new one to douse my fresh blouse
I rush to a meeting on–Zoom have you guessed?
Before I continue my lost coffee quest
I remember a deadline and curse beep beep bip
Before hyperfocus has me in its very tight grip
After hours in a high productivity zone
My stomach develops a life on her own
And shouts very loudly: ‘You’ve forgotten to eat.’
And drags the rest of my body up on her feet
On my new quest for munchies to stop hunger’s stitch
Guess what? I found my coffee cup on top of the fridge
My phone alarm shouts at me out of the blue
What did I set this for? I haven’t a clue!
Nothing to be done to remember that now
A lunchtime walk will make things better I vow
Just my luck today seems a bit bad
I now look like a duly drowned rat
I sit in my next meeting hair still dripping
The conversations are also less than ripping
That could have been an email
I silently wail
Which I would forget to answer without much fail
At least working from home makes a lot of things better
I don’t have to pretend that noises don’t matter
The office clocks ticking, pens clicking
In general all the people’s noise emitting
An email pings, my emotions cow
‘Oh no, what have I done wrong now?’
Or forgotten, lost, broken, maybe misplaced
Oh check this out! Someone is sending me praise!
I cry for a little
Yes, I can be that brittle
Taking a sip from the cup I hold
Yerch that coffee is now really cold

On Not Feeling Well

Background is yellow drawing paper with two pencils on it. The top of the paper is covered with coloured in and outlined poodle doodles. Below is the text which is repeated as text below the image. Sorry can’t grammar anymore. Did I say I am not feeling well? 
I drew a silly doodle poodle on a silly snootle day,
where the chocolate is hot and the skys are grubby grey.
Where I am resting in bed feeling rotten throughout,
can barely move but will gladly shout out loud:
„Hey, look at my silly doodle poodle on a silly snootle day,
where the chocolate is hot and the skys are grubby grey.“
Before collapsing back into a sorry heap, and sniffle and snotter while I very loudly weep.