poetry and mixed media art
How are you?
Or shall I better not ask?
I am.
Yes full stop.
I am.
That’s it.
The achievement.
Right now.
I am.
Still in lockdown.
I am
Still not seeing family.
I am
Still not seeing friends
I am
Still locked down
I am
That is
The biggest statement
The grandest achievement
The most significant thing
Just be
Experience
Within
In the bleak midwinter
Sunshine unearths myriads of diamonds
In the bleak midwinter
Bright coloured gemstones
Berries, winter blossoms, first buds, catkins
In the bleak midwinter
A black cloud races towards me
Pinprick ice hurts my face and nips my eyes
In the bleak midwinter
Brilliant sunshine floods frozen fields
Five minutes later
In the bleak midwinter
Ice crunches underneath my soles
I take deeps breaths
And feel the movement just waiting to burst free
Come spring
Some people are a point of truth in your life
They are there, indisputable fixtures
Reliable in their theirness
You always know what to expect
In his case
Stubborn, hot-tempered, loyal, caring, cheeky
Full of integrity
What was right was right, and wrong was wrong
There was no budging
No grey zones
94 is a good life you say
Doesn’t make it easier
To see him go
Good bye
For now
Not a poem needed a bit of a rant. So here it is.
Now that was a new one. My first proper Twitter tiff … after 10 years or so not bad I would say. The person had asked why I didn’t like that us rainbow-brains (ASD, ADHD, Dyslexia, Dyspraxia etc) are called learning disabilities. So silly me did not check their profile before answering–otherwise I would not have. They make a business (speaker and writer) out of their ‘learning disabilities’, which is fair enough in principle. Being a champion, promoting strategies and support, and being able to use this to support your living is wonderful.
It turns sour though, the moment this champion-hood becomes a tokenistic self-proliferation. And the person was so eager to pick a fight so show to the world how much they defend their corner, that they never even bothered to click on my Twitter profile, which clearly has the #ADHD hashtag on it. And immediately shouted in typing–you know the way internet trolls do this, telling me off for not having a learning-disability. (I agree I have ADHD and clearly this has not stopped me from learning). And then went immediately into some sort of abuse aimed at one of the people they so prolifically claim to defend and support–and sell their books to.
One of the things I thought was interesting was that their first reaction was to state that there is no shame in that medical diagnosis. Hm. Strange. I have not mentioned shame or anything. I think learning disability is an outdated term, that implies a deficit discourse, and is not a helpful framing of the amazing world of rainbow brains. Anyway, shame was not on my mind, but on theirs. Now I can only see two reasons:
first is that this is a go to phrase for their business brand as the defender of neurodiversity or
second, that they actually do feel shame and hence the emotional overreaction to the points I made.
If the latter that would make me feel sad but also once again makes my point that the terminology is not helpful.
The other aspect I wondered about if the label of disability is good for their business as it helps them to continue the discourse of victimisation, and hence justifies them as a defender of the weak, the meek, and needy, instead of empowerment. And the deficit model this is based on works much better as a marketing tool (I need to add in their specific case, because of their business, not as a generalisation)? Am I being too cynical? The only reason to keep the disability label would be for legal protection and right to support in the workplace. But I so loathe the label. Why are we so keen to put people into shiny tiny boxes? Why don’t we celebrate diversity and make sure to create a society that is more accessible?
Smell the cold
Ionised air
Exhale the year
Inhale lucidity
Clarity by nature
A thousand rainbows
Painted with frozen chaos
Cold burns my cheeks
Mitten hidden fingers
In their cozy cradle
I puff out release
Letting go of what serves no longer
I am desperately trying to uplift your spirit dear reader
But somehow the ducks want out
Dear autocorrect I cannot recall any ducks of my acquaintance
But fucks. Fucks I know a many!
I am desperately trying to share love
But the form love takes right now is anger
Now, wait a moment.
You might say.
How can anger be a form of love?
Because beyond the superficial crap
The depths of the being
Can do better
Love thy neighbor and all that
Anyway, where was I
Yes!
Desperately trying to cheer you up
Maybe this should just be an autocorrect poem
With German as second language
On my keyboard
This could get wild!
Wo waren wir?
Ach ja!
Verzweifelter Versuch euch aufzumuntern
Honestly this lockdown thing
is doing a number on the mountain climbing, iron stemming, mountain biking, kayaking self.
Where do people put all their energy?
Even my punch bag is out of commission with all the rain, garden is a mudbath.
So now that I brought you all back down to reality
Guess what
The worst is yet to come!
Just kidding
Well kinda
Bear with me
In the meantime
What’s your new lockdown skill?
Marathon blanket hugging?
Knowing by heart the intros of at least 20 TV shows?
Making eating lunch last a whole hour?
Braiding hair or beards?
Show me pictures!
Finding out just how long toenails grow in ten months?
Don’t show me pictures!
What are you proud of?
42 days without spilling coffee over my work!
Dropping toast and it didn’t land on the buttered side!
Got rid of half of my lockdown stone (definitely not a muscle gain…).
Sending you all a big hug
Stay safe
Stay sane
This too shall pass
Just writing random thoughts
Are you all still hung over from 2020?
Just writing now
Because I can feel the words cueing up
They want out
A heated debate
Who goes first
The conjunctions are calling dips
And I can’t resist
But now what?
Too much noise for form
A verbacious whiplash
Without verbs
The count of nouns
Futile attempt at clarity
Chaos stronghold
So what if?
What if I just keep writing
Eventually form follows
Follows what?
Action?
Form follows function!
That’s it.
Writing is the functionWriting an act of clarity
Writing an act of clarification
Writing an act of creating form
So writing is both function
And in the end form
Does any of this make sense?
Did you notice my cleverly deployed grammar?
How is 2021 treating you?
Or are you still dissociating from 2020 holding breath until you can open the door of the storm shelter?
The words are still stuck
In the tumbling chaos
Of mind
Eventually they will all come out
One way or another
Voices outraged everywhere
Self-righteous
Full of ego
Blinders fixed permanently
Hate filled
Artificially
Each day
By choice of echo chamber
I am offended
By what?
Choose current infliction here
…
Ignorance runs rampant
Delusion has guns
Chest thumbing until there are bruises
Snowflakes in camo
Mate who actually gives a shit about you? A nameless face in a screaming sea.
Adulation
A money maker
His biggest con so far
Who gives a shit about you?
I am actually asking you.
Family?
Friends?
Your dog?
Even your houseplants
Have more emotional intelligence
Mate. Start with giving a shit about yourself.
Love yourself.
Admire yourself.
Forgive yourself.
Be the superhero in your own story.
Do better. In your life with people who give a shit.
6th of January 2021
Ah fuck off …
She laid sprawled on the couch
A heap of fat
Sleeping
Her hatred a halo around her
Dark hair pooling over white pillows
A white blanket
Draped desperately
So clean
The blanket
The pillow
So black
The soul
The heart
Suddenly my friend jumped
Muddy boots from hiking
On top of the heap
Walking all over the blanket
Dirty footprints EVERYWHERE
Purity soiled
Chastity
Who are we kidding
My friend laughed
Rejoicing
Stomping her muddy foot prints all over
Until the heap moved
Trying to give chase
But became entangled in the white blanket
