Walujapi carved a snakelike track Along a cliff-face Planted an impression of her buttocks When she sat This was her camp This was the beginning The beginning that never ended (not yet anyway ~ big bang) The dream of me Rests That dream of you Lives Mists residing in rock crevices Trees (that oxbow lake, […]
Tag: writing
Vision from Gaza
I met her On her road to Damascus Or so I thought Sun shone on the grit sand Glint owning shards of light Spreading them like a warm disease of the mind She wore her hair in unfashionable ringlets Screwtapes missing That was not all Something else was Not quite right She was pretty Hard […]
Weaponise Difference
Add this to the litany of reasons I am excluded from any governance roles, the latest: I’m a Matheson. Seems there’s a limit, a maximum, to the number of Matheson’s you can have at any one time in any one organisation. Remember – it’s important – management is doing things right, leadership is doing the […]
Pink Shirt Day
In a few hours it’s Pink Shirt Day, the day where all those who participate commit themselves to standing strong and eliminating bullying. I really like the concept, but the reality is something quite other. Wherever I see evidence of bullying or hear of it I confront it. It’s not easy, but there it is. […]
I’ve hated this woman.
I’ve hated this woman. I’ve not loved her at full capacity. I’ve fed her lies & told her she wasn’t good enough and have allowed others to tell her she wasn’t good enough. I’ve allowed her to be broken. I’ve allowed others to treat her disrespectfully. I’ve allowed her to run through brick walls & […]
Vision from Gaza
I met her On her road to Damascus So I thought Sun shone on the grit sand Glint owning shards of light Spreading them like a warm disease of the mind She wore her hair in unfashionable ringlets Screwtapes missing That was not all Something else was Not quite right She was pretty Hard though […]
The metaphorical library of the mind
Rāhui (Lockdown) Day (I need to check, I’ve lost count. Checked it’s Day 38 (40): a few good days, and a few crappy ones. It feels already like today will be one of the latter and the black dog is definitely sniffing at the door; it may already be in the room. As quite often […]
I’ve never seen myself as a number. Ever.
Yesterday I took the coward’s way out and said nothing about ANZAC Day and the mindless jingoism that surrounds this faux commemoration. My news feed was filled with blood red poppies, sepia photographs of young men in uniform, long dead heroes smiling at the dead eyes of thousands of long-dead cameras. We deny the conversation […]
Lockdown: Rāhui Day 26
Rāhui Day 26 (28): Had difficulty connecting the comms apps on my Methuselah autographed work laptop and a replacement was organised within no time. Not delivered yet – couriers are swamped. A loose-endsie sort of day during which I slowly crumpled under ‘flu-like symptoms, outcome of the jab I guess. Finished a lot of tasks […]
“There was a star danced, and under that was I born.”
It’s Shakespeare’s birthday (probably, history says there’s a three-day window of possibility) and also the anniversary of the day he died. Such synergy. I’m old fashioned and have yet to be convinced that anyone else wrote the plays that we have inherited in his name. Collaborations yes, a completely different author, totally unconvinced. Thinking about […]
dykiegirl 