Hidden behind familiar red bricks.
And living on the grey concrete,
Is the potted urban woodland.
Salvaged wood and borrowed rocks,
Upturned buckets and unused flower pots,
Bring staggering heights like mountain tops.
Real rebellious greenery populating dark places.
This place. So out of place, and yet so necessary.
Air feels more breathable, and my eyes more relaxed.
Forgotten masterpieces become accidental terrariums,
And joy is achieved through considered observation.
Ignore the seagulls and sirens.
Transient oranges, pinks, blues, and yellows scattered like confetti.
Tiny landscape with large ambitions.
Taking back the unyielding bleakness of the City one green stem at a time.
Our last bastion for urban nature.
This is a blog of two halves. The first was my little poem about the yarden. My shining star in the murkiness that is the quarantine. And, the next part, I am not entirely sure that I should even put it out there. The amount of opinions on everything is exhausting.
So, duck out now if you can’t be arsed because I am going to do it regardless.
A whinge into the ether
An old friend sent me a message the other day, to which I haven’t replied yet. I haven’t replied because even though the question posed was simple, the answer took some time thinking about. He asked if I’m ok. He said that I hadn’t written a blog for a while, and that my silence had him worried.
I think I’m ok. My arms and legs are still there. But, my brain might be a little screwy.
I’ve found solace recently in just making things with my hands. Not necessarily thinking about it. Flying along on auto pilot. It’s been hard to write because writing takes self reflection, and careful consideration, and quite frankly I haven’t had the energy for that kind of philosophical wrangle.
I doubt very much that I am the only one. Usually, I enjoy writing, but everything pales into insignificance when society seems so fucked up. Who really gives a toss right now? Obviously, my mate does, and probably a few more of you out there, so I’ve stepped up to try to articulate a good whinge for all of us.
This whole diabolical fiasco is being milked as a political opportunity to remove agency from people worldwide. The virus and lockdown have really shown us the duality of people, of humanity itself. The wonderful good, and the deep dark bad. Each vying for the limelight right now. As far as I can see the deep dark bad is adept at lying, and posing as righteous. The powers that be are using societal problems to convince us that the system is broken, that we’re too thick to know what we want, and that you’ll get through this if you have good genes. Eugenics rolled out on a mass scale. Dictated by class, age, disability, gender, and colour.
Division is being purposefully sewn between all of us that are fighting for scraps at the bottom. We need to refocus our sights upon the governments and businesses at the top. The ones that are laughing at us all bickering our way into serfdom. The patriarchy led by Putin, Trump, and BoJo are closing in on our human rights and civil liberties. And we are all acting like vigilantes online, but towards each other instead of them. Our government are acting like neo nazi’s. Acting like abusers. Gas lighting us.
So, I haven’t written anything for a while because I’ve been watching and reading the collapse of decency on social media. I didn’t really want to join in the discourse. I knew I had to, or else be culpable as well. So here I am shouting out that though its a big bag of dicks right now, in that bag of dicks is hope. In the swirling mire of opinions there are supremely good people just cracking on the way they always have. They’re not bickering online because they’re too busy running community groups, helping refugees, and actioning a positive change in the status quo. Lets start amplifying the good news that each of us is sharing. We can organise and create our communities right here and now. Support each other. Support positivity. Support change for the better. The more we buy in to the fake news, hateful memes, and share things that we know will hurt someone, the more we reduce our power to fight them. Think before you speak, and if you can’t say anything nice, try not saying anything at all.
Yet another self-righteous keyboard warrior