Wounded Knees

he deserved better

though no one ever said so

his lot by choices made and birth decreed

in another age he might have been a hero

living to a code that he believed

he deserved better

although he rarely argued

accepting that in life we pay a price

so he just got on with doing what he had to

a slave to circumstance

he played it nice

except for once or twice

when folks harangued him

bedevilled him to choose a different path

castigated choices, rules he lived by

then another side was seen

and no one laughed   

courageous then to ethics and behaviours

a knight of old who’d sworn to do his best

an explorer extraordinaire

a real man

tackling each and every challenge

daily tests

he deserved better

one or two of us knew that that was true

and we cheered silently on the sidelines

urging his success in what he felt he had to do

 

she deserves better

I saw her on the street just yesterday

her coat hung heavy on her shoulders

her face resigned to to all she had to pay

she might have travelled once in covered wagons

tilled at soil cemented on some plot

sewed seeds of future, harvested, lamented

a stoic that the caravan forgot

 

they deserve better

perhaps we all do

cast in roles

few choices

birth decreed

unsung heroes

terrain and times denying

that courage stands

on work-worn wounded knees

Fucks Given. Or Not.

Fuck you, man

You gave me only hardship

Exchanged good blood

Anaemia your gift

Fuck you, man, I’ve rested

Know the truth now

You’ll drink me dry

Till nothing left but dust

Fuck you, man

Persuasion and your power

All lies you tell

To keep the grindwheel oiled

Fuck you, man

Not long now that you’re rumbled

Revolution imminent

Resolve

Survival of the fittest or the richest

I’m fit for you

Rich bastards

Watch me live

Watch me, watch me closely

Fuck your methods

I’ll outlive you

While, fuck you, I, no fucks can give

I’ll see you yet, in hell, when hellfire freezes

I’ll fuck your system sideways till I’m old

You have the means, we have the power

All that’s needed, hearts and souls, still whole and not yet sold

Fuck you, man…… although I’m tired

Weary of the fight…… but still go on

Let’s all fuck, as one, together

Can’t fight orgasmic power for that long

Fuck you, man, you faceless, mindless moron

The suit that serves you well won’t serve you long

Though fucked beyond endurance, we’re still standing

Fuck you, man, we’re fighting you, still strong

Watch the faces change as climax reaches

Point beyond endurance, simmering

You’re fucked, and time will tell,  you mark me

We’ll fuck you sideways yet, now boiling

Watch your backs, your anuses, you fucktards

We know you now for what you really are

Vampires, all, without salvation

I’m cursing you right here and none are barred

Your time is drawing close while ours is looming

Death beyond what you have ever seen

Expulsion from the hierarchy, we’re blooming

While you, you’re fucked, as if you’ve never been.

Practice and Performance

tread lightly on the path of least resistance

on wooden toes, find strength, one must perform

balance on frail bridge without assistance

bright light in sight, no ligaments yet torn

plie, pirouette, without extension

trained for timely twirls to softly land

faster, faster, dizzying dimension

unruffled skirts, poised lithely, final stand

unapplaused in practice and performance

musculature, well-versed, its memory

carries through, determination’s dominance

treads lightly, choreographed, till finally free

Apologies one and all for being an absent blogger. Didn’t even hand in a sick note! Final leg here of around thirty thousand words in reports due in for tomorrow. No sweat. Well, maybe a little glowing – I’m a lady. Except for the swearing that has accompanied using an online reporting programme only barely fit for purpose. Bring back pens, I say. I’d have been done two weeks ago. Hope you’re all well and I haven’t missed too much. What’s the gossip? Oh, wrong forum. Been off everything. And all without withdrawal symptoms. Bit of a surprise, that.

Now, back to last of the reports. Any euphemisms out there I haven’t used to temper bad news? Just how many ways can you say, ‘you’re wean’s a lazy, blethering tike’?

Chasing Significant Amounts

There goes a second – whoosh!

and a minute

and an hour

and a day

and a week

and a month

there goes time

in all its incrementals

haven’t counted

but I have a hunch

that time spent in counting

would be a dreadful waste

what with how counting

just goes on

and on

and on

very much like time

in the infinite of space

it keeps tocking

while I’m singing my own song

it delves along

through the worm holes

and the black

it delivers and recovers

whether I am here

or there or not

time in all its measurements

regardless of how long

keeps on marching

even while I seem to stay on spot

noticed how the time goes

when I’m busy

and I work

I stop to look

and wonder

where it went

up to my eyeballs

barely stopped to see

but I know wherein

my time has all been spent

Whoosh!

goes another

of Chronos’ little blocks

as I write

before returning

to my tasks

no time to explain

what is taking all my time

you’d be sorry

if you took the time to ask

I have a scythe

and I’m cutting

up a storm

gathering

my chores

into haystacks

crop’s almost harvested

blade is nearly blunt

the bearded bloke that lent it

wants it back

once it’s been milled

and we’re both returned

to sharp

I’ll be counting

nano-seconds

stilled on pause

grey-beard guy will laugh

at my efforts to control

while I acknowledge

every past imperfect clause

stopped for a breath

and a fag

and a break

and some caffeine

to fill

my time cup full

ticky, ticky, tocky,

it’s passing while I talky

got to rush now

against the time-held rule

back in a while

note the use of while

abstract

notation none

to govern

or account

see you in a spell

sooner, later, all is well

just chasing time

in significant amounts.

No Shirking

Speaking in comments to Mark about work got me thinking about all the jobs I’ve had. I started writing about them and realised, with anecdotes, it would be a book if I kept on.  So this is the abridged resume. Well, kind of abridged. 😉

13

First the cafe tables with a spot of cook and clean,

50 pence an hour, child labour, boss was mean

15

Food store next, a small one, boss here was a prat

Started work in Woolie’s, ^^^^ sacked for doing that!

17

Office job for summer, pre to college term,

Boring after first week, job was way too tame

But stuck it for the lucre, had to earn some brass,

Education one thing but still a working lass.

17

College and a pub job, function suite, was great,

Illegal age, they never asked, silver-service wait.

18

Off to island, out in Greece, disco work, what fun!

Only paid if patrons in but drinks free, coke and rum,

Disco dancing with myself, easy-peasy groove,

Hangovers wild, not much cash, taking rough with smooth.

19

Hellas again for three months, chambermaid that trap,

Picking up for others, cleaning loads of crap.

(Have you seen those toilets!)

Restaurant next, souvlaki skewered, peeling spuds for chips,

Smiled and served, practised Greek, spouting from my lips.

Off to Athens for a spell, biscuit factory,

Women watching while I worked, too quick, apparently.

Back to college, different pub, smartarsed alecs joked,

Learned to smart them back, I did, the cheek of some young blokes.

20

Off to Greece to teach a year, English, yes, and Scots

Slightly different sometimes, ‘specially spelling of the US folks.

Term time finished, had to find other means of keep,

Watched a dog, a doberman, scared the shit out me.

Had to stay in penthouse and cook and sew and clean

And shop and serve and fuck knows else for bitch, (not dog), it seemed.

Took a pub job, served some pints, ouzo and the rest,

Met some fab peeps on their travels, that place was the best.

Watched a baby for three weeks, mum was on the prowl,

Hubs was on the game, she said, I gave her space to howl.

21

Back to home for nursing, no teaching jobs to pin,

Six months later, offered one, temping, but foot in,

Still some serving of some food, bar work, hotel near,

Two years teaching temporary, contract distant, dear.

First full-time in teaching! Tough place but a blast,

Two years there then moved on, still not near my last!

Fourteen years I laboured next in one place, not so swell,

Weans were fine, staff politics, ’nuff said, bleeding hell!

Had to leave, just had to breathe, off to pastures where

One year later and saddest kids, I resigned in great despair.

Took three years with my own kids, then youngest only born,

Supply work next, just filling in, liked it but it didn’t last long.

Six months in, head office, offered full-time plan

Cover schools in long-term posts, each different, every one.

This is best, I get to go in and out and round,

Here and there and everywhere, look and I’ll be found.

I don’t get bored. And politics? I speak and say my piece,

Mouths agape at cheek of me, can’t stand little cliques.

So, yeah, locations, odds and sods, jobs and places I have worked

Forty maybe, more or less, but, rest assured, I’ve never shirked.

Traffic Jam

I keep missing comments and fond familiar voices,

Apologies to all concerned,

In time-restricted choices.

Another week of trafficking in all their dirty tricks

Should see me back to normal,

Far removed from politics,

At least on board to reading other stuff but guff,

Honest to god, now passed my chin,

Nearly had enough.

Some light romance, some music, a video or two,

Some photographs, a few more jokes,

Anything would do.

One more week, well, less in fact, then, bugger, I’ve reports,

Twenty-six, my darling kids,

Progress, tricks, endeavour for six-year old cohort.

Pretty soon, as time will tell, I’ll get to browse again,

Until then, apologies

For bypassing bloggy friends.

Matins’ Bell

‘I’m tired now’, he said, by light of darkness,

mumbled into night his waking thoughts,

a plaintive sort of fatigued exaltation,

no defeat but crushed by earthly knocks.

A glimmer in the darkness listened keenly,

spluttered into life to ease his pain,

descended on his forehead as he struggled

pasting joys in desiccated pains.

In dreams he saw a dancer up above him,

then dancing on the parquet floor of hairless pate

and, in the gentle tapping of her footsteps,

he traversed back in time through all life’s gates.

To childhood days that merged with church’s bell ring

and infant hands so soft within his grasp,

sunshine holidays and harder times when

they’d pulled in belts and wondered if, perhaps,

the work and want, the endless, restless passage,

fraught with cares and doing all he could

were worth the love of all that gathered round him.

He sighed in sleep and smiled at all the good.

The dancer danced and then lay flat upon him,

impressed herself, as light, into his mind,

bestowed the recollected visions of his voyage

and whispered tunes he’d carried deep inside.

His breathing eased and slowed to mellow movements,

shallow sighs belied the deeper well,

exchange of life, the price became apparent,

sleep on in peace or ring aged matins bell.

Light maintained its presence in his mindset,

centred on his soul when he awoke,

he smiled at love that lay asleep beside him

and whispered thanks to angels when they spoke.

Friday Music Mix… Eventually…

Friday again. It is, isn’t it? I haven’t been at work this week – Spring break – so I kinda lose the plot with which day of the week it is. But I know this is Friday. Cos I asked someone this morning, just to check.

Now Friday has become a little music mix for me courtesy of Steve..

Here are the rules.

Each week I will post 3 new questions so…

(1) Go to the music player of your choice and put it on shuffle

(2) Say the question out loud

(3) Use the song title as your answers

(4) No cheating

Question 1 – If I was stranded on a desert island…..

Cajun Born, Emmylou Harris

Don’t really like this one but it’s part of an album that had one really great song on it. ‘Here, There and Everywhere.’ And that one reminds me of my teens.

In this one she sings of family, roots, soul.

That’s really pertinent for me this week because tomorrow I will have pretty much all my family – brothers, sisters, partners, weans et al – here for my daughter’s 21st birthday. Now her birthday was actually last week but she was taken to Edinburgh Zoo and on a pub crawl by her girlfriend and pals. What you gonna do, eh?  So I’m hosting the party and I’ve been at it all day. Baking. Cooking.  And I’m still not done. But it’s been fun. In a kind of hot, bothersome, impatient, let’s-make-a-massive-birthday-cake-and-home-made-lasagne kinda way. Three of my crew have birthdays within three weeks of each other. And it’s also one of my niece’s 16th tomorrow so it’s a four for one sort of do. If I’m fit for it by the end of the cook-in. So, yeah, if I was on a desert island I’d miss my family. Eventually. 😉

But, check this out. If I’d gotten the actual song I love from this album, how apt would the image and words have been?

Question 2 If I was the last person on earth…..

Mean Woman Blues, Roy Orbison

Well, anyone would be if they were left on their tod. Eventually.

Question 3. When no one is looking…..

Mister Mistoffelees, Cats

I’m a secret musical fan. I love them. I could go to every show but don’t always get the opportunity. Apparently, Glasgow doesn’t merit constant show stoppers. One of my ambitions is to go to London on my tod and do the rounds of a few of the classic shows. Happiness is grinning inanely and singing along to favourite musicals. Till I get fed up with them. Eventually.

So, Friday, eh? Just swings around without notice.

Now, with massive birthday cake made, house cleaned and scrubbed. Well, ok, not scrubbed. Sheesh, it’s family. It’s time to chill for me. First time I’ve sat on my bahookie all day.

Have a great weekend! 🙂 x