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Showing posts from June, 2023
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  When the Gun Gives Up It’s Power It needs strength to break new ground when it’s as hard and solid as silence. Or so I thought. It needs strength to breakthrough, to smash the mould of war and peace. Or so I thought. But just suppose, the ground gives up it’s power, the gun refuses to fire and they allow the flowers to break,   bright delicate   blooming flourishing fragile. Ready to open up through the self shattered soil, melting the frozen silence to make a space in the barrel of the gun an opening for a warmth, that will shatter the ice, heal the wounds, stop the war. I think so. https://thebezine.com/portfolio/summer-2023/?fbclid=IwAR2zfIz15sx6BJG2SLDVNP4hIWGMjLU8JpG8NzuP9gXVGbR-0J7I9Mlwncc
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  When Psychopath Met Showman When a violent psycho with overwhelming power meets a deluded showman with a hero complex it’s looking bleak for those caught in between. Those displaced from their homes, displaced from their lives, those losing their lives. those losing the life   they expected to live, More and more of them, a stream without end as the show goes on. https://thebezine.com/portfolio/summer-2023/?fbclid=IwAR2zfIz15sx6BJG2SLDVNP4hIWGMjLU8JpG8NzuP9gXVGbR-0J7I9Mlwncc
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  The Taste of War Peace is more   than the absence of war though that would be a start. But the dissolving of boundaries constructed by humans to cordon off one from the other must follow so there is no need to shout across the divide in our different languages. Only then can we whisper and hug our way to peace. What we have now still tastes like war to me. https://thebezine.com/portfolio/summer-2023/?fbclid=IwAR2zfIz15sx6BJG2SLDVNP4hIWGMjLU8JpG8NzuP9gXVGbR-0J7I9Mlwncc
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  A Day At The Races My boyfriend was keen on The Races. Colourful and exciting he told me, with a fairground atmosphere. I believed him.   I expected a fairground as well I don’t know why perhaps he told me so and I believed him. It was muddy, very muddy. All the colours were mud colour. The horses ran past quickly once or twice each hour. In between you could walk round slipping and sliding in the mud. There was no fairground,   no atmosphere, there was nothing. He was miserable, he’d lost money even on his ‘each way’ bets. You’ll be as surprised as I was to know   that ‘each way’ does not mean win or lose. It was cold, really, really cold. He said I was miserable. Of course I was miserable! It started to drizzle. “They’re under starters orders now! Look they’re off.” So was I, I went home on the bus. https://www.amazon.com/No-One-Should-Kiss-Frog/dp/199058912X/
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https://thegraveyardzine.wixsite.com/my-site/issue-five  
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 https://thegraveyardzine.wixsite.com/my-site/issue-five
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  United We Fall The bodies are piling up   again   as past becomes present again. A different time, a different place, different victims and survivors united by innocence, by grief by failure, failure   to protect failure to police united by the failure of lawmakers, of elected   and electors. Failure. Failure. Failure. So we cry out, we victims who survived you failed us failed us failed us. Even the dead whisper an echo but only the deaf will hear. https://drive.google.com/file/d/16bfx3-SDPoAALl6gEgxIpalFHVXzqprt/view
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  To Be A Hero Hero or villain, it all depends on which side you’re on, on whose story is most powerful, on who you believe. Hero or victim, it all depends on whose story is most powerful, on who you believe, on whose story is most powerful, on where you come from, on which side you’re on. Heroes, victims and villains. Heroes are fleeting as a moment. Villains last longer. Victims last forever. https://drive.google.com/file/d/16bfx3-SDPoAALl6gEgxIpalFHVXzqprt/view
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      Getting Married Let’s get married, you said. I sat up quickly and   just in time, stopped my mouth saying,   After two days? You’re going mad! Why? Where’s the gain? We’ve already said we’ll stay together, You with me or me with you, and care for each other, and make love to each other. We don’t need a piece of paper saying Mr and Mrs. Anyway, you don’t have a good record when it comes to marriage. Or so I’ve heard, I said. I think I want an extra tie, another binding, a public one. So that your friends   would ring you up, concerned, and warn you not to go ahead. And mine would try to find you to do the same and worry about my sanity. But not for long. We’ll do it quick, you said. https://nationalbeatpoetryfoundation.org/ And then we can smile behind their backs as they check our progress down the years, amazed that we’re still together, still like each other, still love. And, after all, I have a much worse record   of not being married. So, let...
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  Stuff It’s easy for me. Even though I’ve planned it and psyched myself up, when I walk into the shop   and see rail upon rail of stuff it overwhelms me, I can’t be bothered to look, can’t be bothered to sort through it all. It takes only seconds for me to realise that my jacket, or jeans, or coat, or shirt are good for a few more years. It’s harder for those who shop as a hobby, who get a buzz like a shot of tequila from the pleasure of buying new, especially when it’s so cheap, but we’re drowning in it all the stuff. It’s squeezing us out of our homes, filling up our land stifling our oceans, burning up our planet with it’s non stop production and speedy conversion to rubbish. It’s those little things and some people just don’t buy it! https://nationalbeatpoetryfoundation.org/