Recently, I had the privilege to be part of Mother Tongue’s Multilingual Poetry Night at Smith’s Alternative. During this event, “An Army of Her Own” poem finally took flight after a long time in the making. I didn’t know it at the time, but this event was part of the Poetry On The Move 2019 fringe festival. I was so impressed with their program. I look forward to seeing more in the future.
I feel privileged to have so many creative friends and to learn from them, share ideas and create new works together.
The very talented local musicians & composers Harvey Welsh and Chris Holly have came up with a new song that resonates with me quite a lot, in light of the latest political and economical developments. Harvey has given me permission to share it with my followers. In fact, he would love to see it shared by everyone, so please feel free to do so. Until they upload their song on a platform, you can follow them on triple J unearthed or on band camp, by clicking on these links. Listen to their other songs and give them some love here:
You can listen to “Everything is normal blues” right here:
It also reminded me of a poem I wrote last year, but I never managed to put it out there, so here it is:
The world is mad, and we’re all falling through the fractures
Of things half done, where we’re half right amidst the clamours;
Half spoken truths, to hide intentions and to ease the conscience
Just like half-hearted love, sold for a petty halfpence.
The world is staring through the bottom of the barrel, half-aware
Of all the halfwits and madmen who hold the mighty triggers
Over impressionable youngsters, bereft of father figures.
And we’re half way to chaos, delusion and despair.
Half whispered wishes abandoned in a lonely patch of green,
Half-hardy crops and chains of thoughts that wither unforeseen
A life half lived in fears of others and their hissing,
A pitiful existence, where half the words are missing.
Automatons perpetually trapped in rushing hours
Without a lot of feelings, half-broken and half-free,
Leaders of no one, sealing the deal that always sours,
Who know they’re only half the men they used to be.
A moon – half hidden, raising high above this madness,
Lights up the sky just like the full moon, with just the same bright light
And in the end, all gravitating halves will even out in roundness,
Making the world a whole again, setting its new and unexpected flight.