Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Wars, Bras, Because...

War, Bras, Because...

I whine
because my mother's mother's mother
was a woman scorned
and her furious hell burns
through my bones.
Hopeless,
hapless,
powerless flesh.
Sometimes the worst days come
when you're having the time of your life.
Today, I told
and ran away.
She glanced, silent.
If wars could talk.
If walls could hug.
I'd never be misunderstood.

(1999)

2017 FREE: a blank cheque for All...




In a time of bargain hunting, discount vouchers, telecommunication budget packages of FREE talk - Are we really claiming, exercising and expressing our essential human freedoms?


FREE – a blank cheque for all.

“FREE” can only be written about freely.

Planting its word seed to gestate in my mind and heart I jot:

“FREE”  Only indentured labourers and African slaves? Serfs surf; rebellious teenage; carefree versus careless; natural hair; body water flowing into plumbing, earth's crevices; sun kissed SPF-free skin; go barefoot; go naked; chores undone; succumbing to afternoon siestas; breast milk,

“FREE”  Exists to lend its fruitfulness to Free-dom.  Something only men have? What-dom? King-dom.  Queen-dom? Dumb dumb. Because I never knew I was free; worry-free, money-free, sexually free. 

Carnival my inheritance of  FREE, yet it seems to me this kind of free is a high price to pay.

Sacred, spilled about.

“FREE” Land of the free and brave; places we call “Away”; their borders closed to me while here we open here freely. 

I am missing “FREE” -  Free to feel safe that my locked door will stay shut until I alone turn the key.

“FREE” Uninterrupted; the opposite of marriage; jail break from promises; liberation from the  sunny seductions to trade the sky for a sparkly ceiling of domesticated baubles like a tiger trading the wild for a daily bowl of milk. Free. The opposite of lonely; lonely in relationship, free in celibate singledom.  

Free to have and to hold a listener as long, slow and as deep as...I am.

For “FREE” to exist at all, freedom must be exercised. 
How can you know freedom of speech if you never speak your truth?

Mandela was free, even in a cell.

“FREE”  Being happy when there is no external evidence that you could or should be.
Heaven. Bliss. A moment of  acceptance that neither adds nor subtracts a thing. 
Free to laugh like a wajang, dance like a nerd, mismatch patterns and colours out of style.

“FREE” Is it always immersed  ‘against’? conditionally opposed to something or someone? 
Free from rebellion and status quo? 

If so, from the duality of justice and injustice too.

Then, what is the opposite of conformity? Is it liberation, or something else altogether?

“FREE” Not enslaved. Not enslaved by perfectionism. Never exhausted by the chase of pursuit for more. 

Can I experience any sense of Self so freely, so as to qualify to say something useful about our deepest human longing? 

Free to answer, Yes.
And, No.

Freedom is deeper, more expansive and dutiful than love because true Love must find her foundation in being free. 

Make do then, with snippets and glimpses in this breath.
that thought. 
a word here.
a moment there.

“FREE” My child, until I shroud him with fearful opposites. 

“Look Justice, my son! It is raining. See! Heaven and hell pour out freely on all creatures great and small, all people fat and tall?” 

He looks out the window, thoughts wandering freely, deeply. 

To find free.
Go deep.




I see how we grow tall, grow beards and breasts but shrink inwardly under inherited parental mores, ancestral laws. 

Free to grow until, choosing freely, we  steep  in enough earth-shit to grow a decent lifetime of psychological stuff to work through. 

Life’s messiness is priceless, fertile manure - a pure, free must.

“FREE” Will. 

I relish exercising mine robustly. 

Who will escape the consequence of Love that loves so freely?

Mother trusts her Creation so deeply, she can and does let it go, into the absolute care of free will. Her offspring has no choice in this freedom bound to another. 

Another, bounding towards freedom.

We essentially and eventually return, inevitably. Can I go freely?

“FREE” Eternally. 

We are never extinguished, though ever clouded here,  transitory.

And so I come to it - free and not free are not at all interdependent, such is the noose.

Be.

The nib seeds typed here, blossom fully.

Life authors me only to stumble upon someone else’s perfect sentence: 

“______” is claimed, not assigned.

You are FREE to fill in the blank.

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