Trogs and Love and Sainted Graves, Man

Fingal, Fillan, Ninian

Bless the caves but query spin

Mull and May and Isle of Man

From peaks, the sev’n kingdoms spanned

Staffa, Whithorn, Pittenweem

Rustic temples, Atlantis seen

Continents and cradles rocked

Uncivilised, the Troggs in shock

Athens, Georgia, REM

Please release the song again

Marti Pellow, rock and roll

Jefferson, Gracie, save our souls

Intolerable acts, from gauntlet, glove

Candida Casa, church of love

Ass’s jawbone, guns and hype

Media and talking tripe

Echoes from the caverns, keeps

Hand that rocks must never sleep

Ancient empires, Greece and Rome

Egypt, Britain, game of thrones

Democratia, languished, cursed

Hidden idol needing nursed

Legends, myths and music scene

Spin and discs, the science between

Troglodytes’ and sainted graves

Evolve, revolve, arise from caves

Music nurture, love and peace

Inter the caveman, war surcease

Flower power, children of light

Ffs, man! You know it’s right

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The Horse’s Mouth

Your voice tells me

What I need to know

One among the many

Giving truths

Mainstream

Does not cut it

For me any more

I’d rather hear it

From the horse’s mouth.

I wanted to reblog this post here but I don’t know where the reblog buttons have been hidden on a number of sites now. WP glitch or me being thick?

Ashiakira writes beautiful haiku but today he steps out from that short form to write with the same truth and feeling on a situation of national and global importance.

I trust a man who has known the loss of war and desires peace. He speaks for his people even while his government rewrites their constitution. It is in posts such as this that I fully appreciate the real power and importance of blogging. Who else will tell us what we need to know with such honesty but a fellow human being living within the constraints of political machinations? We all know that place; the one where governments decide, press portrays its version but we don’t feel as they do. Please read these words from a beautiful soul.

Prevailing

Mist drifted in on the west coast,

Haar settled in pockets the east,

From the north, a cold wind is blowing,

Heading south, uninvited from feast,

Through the haze that some see only slightly

Are the kent well, the lay of the land,

Known by the natives, e’en blindfold,

Accept or reject out of hand.

Enfranchise the right of all passage,

Not by whip nor by tactics, nor siege,

Heged no more as the sheep in the fiefdom,

Fog lifting, clear vision, the pledge.

Chill factors accounted, storm brewing,

Lamps lit and blinking onshore,

Winds rising, temperatures with them,

And voices of never, no more.

From every direction prevailing,

Scourge of the wrong of the right,

By the left, quell extreme, centripetal,

Cyclone of justice to fight.

Weather forecasting the future

Where shelter’d dominion lies,

Disbelieve the official meterological,

Look to the signs in the skies.

Exponential Growth

I believe in reaching out, I do,

To one and one, for doubled, that makes two

Who pass it on at double worth, there’s four,

And on it goes and goes to so much more,

As legend told, where single rice on board

Relieves the king of kingdom, this I’ve heard.

Like words, I guess, where whisper quite a few,

Ripple out, eventually, reaching more than two.

Chess Board and the Grain of Rice

 

Words of Another

I wonder, sometimes,

if the words of another

reveal me to me

better than mine,

If, in sharing

their thoughts on the page,

cosmic held hands

raise ridiculous to sublime.

It’s not that I think

that I cannot convey

most visions

that whirl in my mind

But I wonder

if inhaling

words from another,

some truths are easier to find.

Spirit of History

In about three hours time I should be ensconced in  ready to partake of the privilege of The Men They Couldn’t Hang.

(source:-   caitlinmccuskercoursework.blogspot.com )

Hopefully, ‘cos I’m ever hopeful, :), listening to this. Spot the bit that’s just ace.

England, 1936.
The grip of the Sabbath day
In London town the only sound
Is a whisper in an alleyway
Men put on their gloves and boots
Have a smoke before they go
From the west there is a warning of
A wind about to blow

Like Caesar marching to the East
Marches Mosley with his men
Dressed in their clothes of deepest black
Like a gathering hurricane
This is the British Union
With its flag of black and red
A flag that casts a shadow in
Berlin and in Madrid

So listen to the sound of marching feet
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
Fists and stones and batons and the gun
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down

So mile by mile they come on down
To a place called Cable Street
And other men are waiting there
Preparations are complete
Mosley comes so close
They now can see his outstretched arm
A hand raised up that way
Never took the future in its palm

Listen to the sound of marching feet
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
Fists and stones and batons and the gun
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down

The battle broke as the fists and the batons fell
Through the barricades came the sound of the wounded yells
Jack Spot burst through with a chair leg made of lead
Brought down a crashing blow on Mosley’s head

And so we learn from history generations have to fight
And those who crave for mastery
Must be faced down on sight
And if that means by words, by fists, by stones or by the gun

Remember those who stood up for
Their daughters and their sons

Listen to the sound of marching feet
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
Fists and stones and batons and the gun
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down

Listen to the sound of marching feet
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
Fists … stones … batons and the gun
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down

 

Funny thing,

that we get far enough away from events

we call them history.

Then we look at it

and get a new perspective.

Or more than one.

No one says we have to look at history.

Everything only happened yesterday.

Yesterday is upon us every day.

Marching.

Demanding action.

The pendulum swings

to extremes,

all sorts of extremes.

If we don’t learn, we repeat.

I’ve repeated this song a lot.

Funny thing is,

I’m a pacifist.

By choice and persuasion.

And a coward..except.

Most of us would fight – in some shape or form – for what we believe to be right.

If only we could learn from history what that is.

Separating the myths from the legends.

We’re not obliged to learn.

It’s simply desirable.

To keep the music flowing.

To keep life going.

To keep on keeping on.

Let the spirit of history live.

 

Search For Key

I know you struggle with communication,

You search for words and actions to convey

All you feel and think, all that is within you,

Everything you find no way to say.

I know I struggle too with this same problem

Despite the fact that words come all too easily,

Sometimes it’s not the words that are the problem

But knowing which ones tell the truths for me.

I know we cannot always speak or reach out,

Locked inside ourselves as we all are,

Begging for a greater wordsmith’s charter

To reveal the core that reunites the stars.

I know affliction of this kind is legend,

Tracks volumes written of all history,

Permeates the core of all our suffering,

Lack of understanding, search for key.

Right

When the upsurge

Rises,

Spurts!

And truth explodes

With meaning,

No argument

Or reasoned clause

Subverts

That inner

Feeling.

Acknowledged worth

Of human brain

With heart

And soul

And might

Embraces freedom,

Humanity;

Instinctively

Knows what’s

Right.

Coming Out Of The Closet. Courtesy of Suzie.

When I started blogging 7 months ago I was entirely anonymous and felt fairly free in saying pretty much anything. Although I would never identify specific people. Too much of the teacher and private person in me for that.

As time has gone on and I have felt more comfortable within the community and in my writing and strength of feelings on certain subjects I have opened up more about myself but it does give me some concerns.

The more I have revealed of myself the greater the likelihood that I will be discovered and might get into trouble for ‘swearing’ or touching on certain subjects and being identified as a teacher by specific name.

The odd thing is I’m at the point where I don’t give a shit. I’ve been toying with the idea of going for promotion in a particular school and have to make my mind up within the next few days. I then began to think of what impact my blog and posts would have on my prospects and current position if they were connected. And, do you know what? Right at this moment in time I would rather forego promotion and even my job than be shut up.

Now, I’ve just turned 53, Suzie, and you’re just a young thing with your whole career ahead of you so, yes, I would worry more had I been doing this years ago. Now I feel like nothing can shut me up and I need to say what is strong within me. It’s not that I can afford to lose my job. But I feel now that writing and expressing and communication on many levels have become more important and I can’t live another moment, let alone years, not being out here speaking my truths.

Don’t get me wrong, I still think twice about what I post. I review and consider content and ‘flavour’. But, ultimately, I think, see, write and post.

Your post, Suzie, has come at an exact moment of rightness for me because I tonight posted something that was born of an awful day and I thought to myself, ‘Folk won’t like this. Wee Mrs. Sunshine is having an off day.’ But that’s life and it’s real.

You’re real to me, Suzie as are so many of the people I have ‘met’ here. There is a reason why we are blogging. What I am coming to realise is that no matter the blogger, anonymous or otherwise, there is a multitude of people who NEED to communicate to the world. I don’t know all the whys and wherefores of this. But it is a powerfully strong urge and it is important to those doing it. And, I think, to those reading.

It does feel to me like a massive reaching out of hands and minds and souls. People being prepared, even shyly, to open up to others and reveal their truths And, in the process, help each other realise that we are not alone in our experiences and our thoughts and doubts.

There is a world of feeling and understanding and insights to be gained just from the ‘mere’ act of sharing and reading.

I could no more let this go than fly. Although, I do think I can fly anyway. In fact, let me elaborate on that.

I always thought I could fly. Right up until I was in my twenties! If only I could find the way. Then I realised I was being foolish. I stopped believing I could. Although I still wanted to. Now I feel I can again. And that, to me, is writing. If I were to censor too much I would cut my wings. I can’t do that again.

Now I will still do videos ‘incognito’ ‘cos that has as much to do with acting the post as anything else. That and some days I look and feel like shit. And I just want to get the thing done. But, in the immortal words of Meryl Streep, in Mamma Mia!….’for one time and one time only…….

….for those of you who know me a bit and for those of you who know me well or not at all.

My name is Anne-Marie Hurley.

I am a mother, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, niece, godparent, cousin, teacher, etc, etc, etc. And I am a blogger. Bloggers Anonymous!

But firstly, I am spirit.

Then human.

Then woman.

And if I can’t speak my truths of life as how I see and think and feel then I can’t fly. And I won’t accept that again.

If the teaching profession cannot accept that their teachers are people then it does not deserve to be called education. We all bring ourselves to the job. I am not a pervert. I am not a criminal. But I have thoughts and feelings that I am entitled to express should anyone wish to read them. I will always keep private those things that I feel deserve to be kept thus. Those things I am not privileged to reveal because they concern others and would mar confidences. But, as for the rest, my ‘me-ness’, it’s going out there. Because I will fly freely. I will fall. But, by the rights of all ‘to be’, I will rise again.

I’ve had a shitty day. But now I feel so much better. Thanks, Suzie. YOUR honesty and transparency have convinced me that, for me, right now, there is no other way. Thank you.

 

And, further to the note of honesty, I am, within the next week or so, going to do an award post that ‘honours’ those who speak out on sexuality and sensuality and are unafraid to do so. We deem certain subjects to be taboo. And yet they are part of all of our lives. We may couch our feelings in poems or pictures or stories but we feel and we think and we are. Shame and judgement does not or should not come into it. I’ll get working on that one. I have no idea yet whether the awards given to me may be used for sex and sensuality but I’m pretty sure I can work around that. 🙂