Crumbs

Why have I always accepted the crumbs

Foraged for love like dog seeks out food

Searched for acceptance and twiddled my thumbs

And wandered the globe, all unseen and crude?

How is it I've wanted, yet never had,

And longed for another, unknown desire?

Gormless and graceless and seemingly sad

Warmed by the notion that will not retire.

Why have I waited so long for this myth?

A notion that carries all peoples’ belief

That wholeness and goodness are seldom blithe

And love come too all with blissful relief.

Crumbs cannot feed the famished and fawning

They give enough hope, and ignore warnings.

Lilith II

Why am I the one who has to be brave?
To endlessly place one foot, firmly in front of the other
Banished to the rocky outcrops
Alone, fragile, mourning, hating
Surviving on wits,
Thriving on the pickings like carrion birds
Scavenging over long dead morsels
Feeling no honour as I steal in the night
Mourning a life that was never provided
Forlorn in the hope of vindication.

I can only be me.

Should I blame you for not loving me
And abandoning me at a time of contempt?
Or should I blame myself for not fighting harder
Wearing the shame and hatred as my banner
For the rest of the planet to see.
Woman wounded, victim or instigator,
The whore to the mother.
The bully to the scapegoat,
The story changes with time and heartbeat,
The narrative wanders over the world.

I can only be me.

The woman you fear as she bleeds
The woman you hate as she stands against you
The woman you try to suppress with your slaps
Your words and your silence.

I can only be me.

Placing one foot in front of the other
Stoic, mourning, willful.
And brave.

The Little Star

Looking out, looking back in time,

Before the wrinkles, the grey hairs, the bills,

The too wet/too dry/too hot/too cold

Of the weatherman’s drone,

Back before the humdrum was ordinary

And the ordinary was unwanted

And life was measured between pints of beer

Scoreless draws and delayed trains.

We go back further, looking skyward,

Back to the essays and endless conversations

Of Jude the Obscure and Robespierre

And how the Proletariat will never win

And how Thatcher stole milk

And how scraped knees and hopscotch were far more

Important than the nightly news.

Back to the time of short pants, Sunday best,

Weekend roasts with grandma, cloth nappies

Hand knits, bowl cuts and standing quietly

Never saying a word. Adored, held, safe, secure, sleep.

Then gasp, BANG! Heartbeats. Then Silence.

The little star, out there, somewhere,

Looks forward towards time, towards you.

Seeing the potential as it searches the universe for signs

A light that you may or may not see.

You both scan the dark, where your gazes

Will meet, somewhere in the middle of time.

Lilith I

Liliith I

I have learned to sit and scream
Betrayed beyond grief
Beyond hope, beyond life,
Sitting in the mud that bore me
The mud that raised me
The mud that makes me whole
Mad with the knowledge
That I am nothing more
Nothing less, than complete
A perfect mix of elements
Heat, moisture, wind and dirt,
Pristinely unclean
Perfectly, beautifully hideous
Unseen in plain sight
Shunned from the world.

They cannot see my strength.

They cannot see my power.

It is not for them to know
As I remain perched, howling in the brambles
Moaning with the West Wind
Covering myself in excrement
Piss flowing over my feet
Blood, clotted, drying tangling above
Skin  stripped bare, scaly, scarred.
Hidden in plain sight
Wanting to be loved once more.

They cannot see my truth

They cannot see my pain.

For every night life flies from me
Like a lemming over a cliff
Flowing predestined from my womb
A morning tide of sorrow.

All for standing in my truth.

All for wanting to be equal.

All for wanting to know love.

Amazon

You cannot tell me that I’m an Amazon Goddess

Walking fearlessly, head held high, chest proud

Bare against the breeze, hair tangled down my back.

Feet nimble on the crags, legs strong, fast, solid.

For I am not a warrior. I do not have the presence,

Banshee voice, ferocious, eyes focussed

On destroying anything and anyone in my path,

Skin smeared with the blood and bile of my enemies.

How can you see me as a woman of war?

I do not have the attention or faith to fight.

Crouching behind boulders, scared, terrified

Watching as others claim their just prizes.

Maybe you see what I cannot see. Me in my pack,

Walking fearlessly, head held high, chest proud

Knowing not when the battle will soften or end.

Bundled together, a battalion of soft hardness.

You know that I don’t see the weakness that is woman.

We stand firm, at war with the world, at war with ourselves,

Skin smeared with the blood and bile of our enemies,

Oozing, seething, drowning in our own seeping juices.

Maybe I cannot see that in being soft, I am strong,

In standing proud, insular, I am a part of the whole,

In being fearless, I walk an unknown path, silent alone,

Walking the unknown road of every woman who ever lived.

Sonnet13:12:13

Why is love never enough for people

When times are sharp and money hard to find?

When hardship, corruption and leaders grind,

And  love no longer feels responsible.

How is hope and chance no longer equal

When the world leaves rational thought behind?

When worries leave skin grey and faces lined,

As you wait, hesitate, for the sequel.

These body blows of horror seen daily

On screens and pocket devices by all

To cheer and leer at others' misfortune

There as a stark warning for all to see.

When will humanity refuse the thrall

Of the unrelenting profit margin?

Finding Nemo

Tell me where will Nemo go

When there is no reef?

When silt and sludge have ruined his home,

It’s still beyond belief.

Tell me where will Dory go

When the coral is no more?

Warm water blurring  pristine seas,

Starving the marine floor.

What of Marlin, brave and true

Looking for his son?

Bruce the shark, is he hunted down

Not for sport, but fun?

How do you tell your children

That Nemo is no more?

They were once there in history

When Australia cared much more.

How do you teach your kids to care

When leaders show no thought?

When company profits rule the roost

And lessons are not taught.

How do you teach your kids to think

And care for their legacy?

When Nemo is just a memory -

A cartoon fantasy.