Trees bathed in twilight in the forest near Uddevalla, Sweden
How Sweet And Long The Twilight
Julia Turner 2015
We talk as the light gently fades
The lazy, hazy setting sun
You tell me of the serenade
The way he took you in his arms
I tell you of the road I’ve passed
The valleys and the mountain tops
You tell me the beginning last
The middle first, the end a lot
Stories told we share the calm
Midsummer’s night in forest thick
And with a smile you take my arm
How sweet and long the twilight
I went to see* Verity Standen’s Hug a few months ago. I absolutely loved it. Honestly if you get the chance to go to this please do you won’t regret it.
*I use this word out of habit but really I didn’t actually see much at all as I was blindfolded!
Hugged Safely And Loved
My response to Verity Standen’s Hug
I was held today.
Held by a stranger who didn’t know my mind.
They knew my face.
I only knew their touch,
Their smell, their sound.
I was held in a warm embrace as a wave of harmony engulfed me
And carried me with it.
I was held as it lapped at my ears,
Lapped at my head,
Lapped at my very being.
I was held as it washed over my fears,
Fizzed over my loneliness.
Like a child I was held,
Honoured and accepted unconditionally.
Nothing was expected of me.
Yet I was hugged safely and
Loved by the history of humanity.
A small and unremarkable part of the whole
Insignificant yet playing a part.
Accepted for nothing more than my being.
The Eton Mess
Don’t have no money
Don’t have no future
Don’t have nowhere to call mine
Don’t care about politics
It’s all meaningless
I care about equality
Feed all my children
Give them a base
Feed all us parents so we don’t lose face
I feel ground down
I feel helpless
Can’t see any way out of this
Need an education
Need a community
Not all this crack talk about Big Society
But real people doing real things
Disparity in wealth
The measure’s tipping
The great divide
I’m slipping and sliding
Trying to find a line to cling to
But it feels like everyone is looking the other way
I value my right to vote
But how can I cope with this political stagnation
We need salvation
Cover gaping holes as the money pours in
To off shore bank accounts
They focus on the wrongdoings of the poor
Struggling because they need a lot more
While they the bankers and the Eton mess
Slip out the back door
I’ve been getting up early this week. It’s felt good. Shame that I can’t keep my eyes open past 9pm. Is it possible to rise with the dawn and go to sleep with it? I think not. Damn.
Rising up in the early morning
Actually feels good
I’d almost say
The sun has returned
From its jaunt to Australia
And is sparkling on my windowpane
This is a small revelation
It’s true I’ve been here before
But this time
I’ll be back for more
My morning has been extended
Plied gently open to reveal
A pocket of unhurried space
Before the day really begins
Before anyone would dare phone me
To turn on my computer would seem
A crime against myself
And this calm morning
Full of possibilities
Another day another poem. Not sure how long this will last but I’m really enjoying writing these and have an urge to get them out there as soon as I have. It’s quite therapeutic even if nobody else reads or enjoys them. Today I am experimenting with no punctuation. I am craving the outdoors a lot at the moment. Unfortunately my second floor flat doesn’t have a garden so I have dreamt one up.
If I had a garden…
In my city garden the walls would drip with vines
It wouldn’t be very neat
But in bare feet I’d walk out into it and feel engulfed
Leaves would brush my face
And through deep nostrils I’d soak it all up
As if my life were on the line
I’d look to the sky with eyes closed
Letting the sun and the rain drench me to the core
What bliss to have a garden like this
Ants would hold general meetings here
Butterflies spending time
Flying resting flying
Whole cities of insects
Whole nations on a small patch of soil
In my garden it’s often sunny
I sit and sip warm nectar
On a rug beneath a tree
Sometimes the weather is stormy and I face it head on
Eyes full of rain
Ears full of thunder
Veins full of life
I’m turning to poetry in the wake of this election so make myself feel better. I hope you find comfort here too!
The Natural Order of Things by Julia Turner 12 May 2015
Many have fallen foul of it
It starts in your gut,
Squeezes in your chest,
Raises the beating of your heart.
Blood boils and jaws clench,
It’s hard to find a way to sleep.
You alternate between outbursts of childish anger and feelings of hate,
Then uncontrollable sadness.
And why should we control it?
For now I’ll let the tears tumble and the storms in my heart rage.
I feel abandoned.
Left outside in the rain while others enjoy a hearty roast,
I peer in from the drenched grassland dazed and confused.
But as they scoff their tats and down their expensive wine they miss completely
What I am privy to.
The shift in the clouds,
The clearing of the rain.
In its place,
Wise, knowing and kind.
She licks at my wounds and tells me not to worry.
There are bigger forces she says than you misguided humans
She points to the crashing waves,
The ruthless winds.
Nature is hot on your heels she tells me,
Preparing to wash you away and burn you to a crisp.
You are but a momentary annoyance.
She will engulf you
And all your silly gadgets.
Soon there’ll be very little trace.
Strands of your hair may float on the wind for a while.
Small man-made particles will take longer to disperse but
Slowly and kindly she will triumph and the hills and valleys will regain their vigour.
Wild and beautiful.
‘Meat and dairy animals produce more greenhouse gases than all the world’s transport combined. Fact not fantasy.’
The dripping meat you habitually eat
You’re slipping further
Where will it all end?
See to me it feels like
Who’s looking for an end?
The more I read the more
I feel empowered
Empowered by knowledge
That could throw me down
And make me despair
I feel empowered
I don’t want to be part of the problem
Don’t want to watch as
The biodiversity of this world is trampled
By cloven hooves
Don’t want to live in a
(Call me crazy)
A desert where once there were trees
I don’t want these to be memories
Tall tales we recount to our children
It’s easy to look away
And it’s easy to believe
That you need that steak
You need that cheese
You couldn’t live without it
But the truth is
You can and
I’m not beating around the bush
Cos soon there’ll be no bush to beat around anyway
Open your eyes and actually look
Staring you in the face is the clear and horrifying link
Dripping meat you
And the devastation of our natural world