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Sunday 5 April 2020

Too much time on my hands

I am not a good blogger, I know that. It's been two years since I've bothered to write anything on this. I still don't have anything to say but the world is going through an enormous change at the moment and I have learnt a new word, "furloughed".

There is enough news and blogs and tweets and information to drown out anyones brain. I feel like I am a character in one of my own stories, trapped but allowed out once a day for air. I would run but no one would take me in, and escaping now would be more dangerous in the long run. Yes, an idea that can rumble through my grey matter before anything comes of it.

But it is NaPoWriMo and I have been trying poeming out again. (I never gave it up really) But first I'll share the words and worlds I've snapped in these difficult times from when I have ventured outside my door.

They are, well all my stuff is a bit weird but these are unedited (I say this as if I am any good at editing) and tell the wandering tale of the first seven days...

Please enjoy the pictures.


COVID-19 Days

When we were all alone
2020


There's a disc in the sky.
Cannot tell if it's sun or moon.
Mist lays in strings, in waves, in puddles in the dips between grass tussocks glinting with frosty dew.
I went for a run and discovered the world,
is naught but a game board.
And I don't have the right shoes.


Morning folks.😊
First day trying to run. I agreed to do a 5k run for charity before lockdown so I'm going to honour this, and now I'm not working I have the time. 👣👣👣
I can't run... I get two black eyes 😂😂😂


         


She is setting now,
Swiftly following the sun.
Beginning to bloom.
A guiding light before her,
she travels on.
Leaving slivered light to trail behind her.
A gown of night.
A crown from the memory of dawn.
An end of a day,
The promise of another to come.


A blustery wind
A busy, back-fluffed bumblebee feasting on golden-grey catkins.
A winter touched sleet shower
A warming sun
An apologetic grin from the far side of the pavement
A guilty walk...alone
But Spring doesn't care for distancing.
It is here 😊


   
First sniff off a fresh jar of coffee.
Splash of snow touched rain on my face,
then blast of sun.
Two bra's to hold my tits in place,
so they don't escape while I run.
And the wide world shrinks down into one small space
to explore, to wonder, to praise,
Before I'm done.


 





Pink & Blue


For a moment the sky was brighter than the sun.
I slept in 'til I was all slept out.
Black boots, rainbow coat, grey rain, walking round the block once again.
Chocolate's what it's all about,
If only for today.



 



Eyes peer downwards
World is too wide to view just now
Downwards to small things
Small is growing anew



 


Doing nowt
But my brain is rumbling
words, ideas, things.
Stuff I didn't have time for
before work cut out.
It's all just tumbling about.
I'm just wondering...
But I'm sat here, mug of tea in hand,
Delightfully doing nowt 




There is a whole world I know nothing about,
where strange things walk, live, grow.
But I am learning...
Always learning how far away they are,
How different they be,
How interconnected they are to me.
And I to them.
And so I walk. Live. Grow.

Saturday 3 March 2018

Stories and Coffee, an idea in 1500 words.

I wrote.
I wrote a short story and send it off in January for a small competition on a fantasy web forum, where other readers and writers could read and vote.
I didn't win, but I hadn't expected to, because I wrote.
And I sent it off!
This is my win.
Please read and enjoy, oh and comment if you like.
I don't do short stories and, although this is by the competitions rules, short, I have another 6 in the pipeline...

OK, its storytime.

Renewal.

The creamy, grey-veined marble hallway of the Universal Coffee Emporium headquarters was meant to soothe her, but a bubble of resentment simmered under her breastbone. Here she was again, waiting for the renewal of her Coffee Emporium Decade Licence when others could pick up a half century licence without such pointless examination.

A being sat contently on the other end of the grey, cream-veined marble bench, resting long hands on knees. She watched them out of the corner of her eye for a moment then with a sigh, folded her legs underneath her for comfort.

The being coughed.

These benches are not built with short legs in mind, no matter the species,” she explained.

Sitting all hunched up is not very, professional,” the being replied.

Neither is sitting with legs swinging like some infant, so I’d rather be comfortable. How I sit doesn’t reflect on my professionalism.” The being hummed under their breath as silence flooded the hallway.

You here for your licence renewal?” she asked before it became uncomfortable.

My second half century,” the being said proudly. “You?”

Another decade for me.”

Only a decade?” the being queried. “I’m sure I’ve seen you before.”

Probably.” She tugged at her long, gold-embroidered waistcoat and rubbed her knees with her palms. “I’ve been in this trade a long time.”

And you’re still on a Coffee Emporium Decade Licence?”

The universe is like that sometimes,” she sighed.

The being tugged their own simple brown waistcoat and straightened the long pocketed brown apron in thought.

I know you, you’re that human who keeps screwing stuff up. I don’t know why they let humans join. Wouldn’t know a decent cup of Joe if it hit them in the nadgers.”

She fumed inside but put her coffee selling face on to reply.

Lots of species struggle with caffeine, but that’s our job, to find a level that works so the Universe can stay connected and continue to learn about itself.”

You spout doctrine like an Assessor.”

Did the exams,” she admitted with a shrug.

And?”

I discovered I enjoyed the day to day interaction of actually selling coffee and other caffeine based derivatives, rather than checking the overall balance in the Universe.”

But...”

Some of us aren’t cut out for that level of wider knowledge.” The being looked at her, blinking three of their eyes in question.

It did my head in,” she explained. “The whole of what we do, of what the universe is all about, is fine in the abstract. But to know, to really know...” She shook her head.

So your still on a CEDL.”

Doing the Assessor training gave me a different skill set, which means I’m often sent on reconnaissance to new planets.”

Wow.”

She waved a hand. “Its not as fun as it sounds.”

And you keep screwing it up,” the being replied with the sound of laughter in their voice.

She let her hand fall to her knee and swallowed. She couldn’t get angry with ignorant Coffee Emporium pod owners right outside the renewal office door.

I don’t bollix it up,” she said.

But, didn’t you destroy a planets socio-economic civilisation just recently?”

She turned her head to look at the being, all smart in their standard Universal Coffee Emporium uniform, and blinked back tears. “I only set it back a century or two,” she admitted. “Its all in my report.”

The being gulped. “Sorry, but you are something of a legend. The human Coffee Emporium Master; and yet you make all these silly little entry level mistakes. I’m, curious.”

She stared at them.

And anyway, reports are such dry affairs, even with the best brew. I sell coffee. I know what it can be like, so, tell me.”

She looked up at the high creamy, grey-veined walls and let them soothe her.

I went down, looked around, decided they weren’t ready. Knocking their progress back by a couple of centuries was a fluke. I didn’t intend to, but on reflection it was a good idea.”

And that tells me nothing the report wouldn’t,” barked the being.

She scooted round on her bottom and faced them. “We sell coffee,” she said quietly. “We know all sentient beings in this universe have caffeine or similar in their make-up and we balance this to their particular needs. Every species looks up at the stars, and wonders. And so the Universe learns.”

The being nodded.

This species didn’t. They never looked up and wondered. And, they had no caffeine.”

The beings mouth fell open.

But they had known it,” she continued. “They knew caffeine and they hated it. And if anything on that planet had once contained it, it had been eradicated.” She smoothed down her long waistcoat with shaking hands.

I followed protocol, pretending to be from one of the smaller lands in a big population centre, my pod well disguised but they knew. They could smell it on me. It was like they could see it coming off my skin in waves. They were not happy. Caffeine was their devil, and I was its embodiment.”

You got sent into that?” The being was shocked.

She shrugged. “They interrogated me. They attempted to condition me to the evils of caffeine. But their main method was purging. Draining me of every drop of caffeine they could.”

She raised hands to clutch at her head. “Headaches. Whole body headaches that wouldn’t end. Creasing me up into an animal ball of stabbing agony. I was blind, deaf, incoherent, I only wanted to stop the pain.”

Didn’t...”

When you get sent on reconnaissance, you are on your own. Utterly, unless you get back to your pod.”

The being nodded slowly. “Had they genetic sciences?”

If they had, I would have been really screwed. I don’t recall much, but something clicked when they talked about a mutated crop they were destroying.”

Clicked?”

Returned to what ever sense I had left. The crop had been infected by caffeine. I was the source. I hallucinated I could be the means, the return of caffeine to that planet, but first, escape.”

How did you?”

She swallowed, trying to slow down a suddenly racing heart. “I helped them purge me of every particle of caffeine they could find with their crude methods. I puked my insides out.”

No caffeine, that could’ve killed you.”

We humans are resilient creatures,” she smiled. “And their containment procedures were non-existent. I polluted their water supply, their soil, their every breath with my own caffeine laced essence. They quickly descended into a destructive frenzy against any one they could blame. They didn’t consider me as the source.”

And...”

I honestly don’t remember how I got back to my pod. I woke up, sucking a mouthful of Betelgeuse Robusta Roasted I had for those really awful days when you need a caffeine hit like an ore container.”

Bit of an overkill as a pick-me-up.”

I needed to get out of there. Their weapon sciences were extremely advanced, and they were bombing the hell out of any place they thought the caffeine devil might exist. Including where I’d hidden my pod.”

Each individual Emporium Device can stand a fairly big explosion.”

They blasted themselves back two centuries,” she explained. “I wasn’t taking any chances.”

So...”

I sent the emergency retrieval beacon, UCE brought me back, patched me up and debriefed me. Its all in the report. Now I’m having to wait for my renewal. You know, its funny. I’ve never seen another being waiting for a licence at the same time..”

The wide metal doors in the wall opposite opened, stalling her words as an Assessor walked out.

Nayr Kim Durand?”

Yes?” she breathed.

Here is your CEDL. Sign here, and here, and your hand please.”

She stood quietly as the sub-dermal chip in her wrist was read, updated, wrote her name and accepted the computer paper with her licence on it in silence.

On behalf of the Universal Coffee Emporium, we thank you for your frank retelling of the Thine 137 incident. And your, personal sacrifice. Reports can be so dry, can’t they.” With a bow, the Assessor left, leaving her staring at nothing.

She rounded on the being on the bench. “You in your regulation uniform with your regulation words and your...”

Sorry,” the being replied with an attempt at a grin. “They needed to check. And you are very good at giving regulation answers at debriefings.”

You want to know?” she muttered looking down at the page in her trembling hands. “You want to know the truth?” She breathed in and stood upright, looking the being in the eyes.

The truth is, coffee has always been my life, before I even suspected the Universal Coffee Emporium existed. Keeping the caffeine balance of the sentient Universe is natural for me. But after this, I can do nothing but sell. My own caffeine balance is screwed.”

The being gasped in horror.

Yes,” she said quietly. “I can never drink another cup of coffee again.”

End.

Sunday 1 October 2017

Say Owt Slam #17 with Jackie Hagan

What a night, what a perfect night of amazing poems.

First off, a thousand well dones to the winner of the slam, Kit Rayne. Well deserved in every way. I loved your words, and to the lass who came second, so brave and your words were just amazing. Thanks to all the slammers for their amazing performances.

Jackie Hagan, your words were scary and thought provoking, and your ears absorb stories the way my eyes do when I read. Looking forward to catching 'This is not a Safe Space' if I can.

Now all the praise is out of the way I'm going to bore you with my bit. Yes my words I wrote and shared on stage, not as a slammer but as the first Arts Council funded Say Owt Slam Local Poet.

Yes me. I was allowed onstage to share whatever I wanted and no one could judge me! Well they could judge me, but they didn't have to shout the score out, they could just come and tell me later.

To be honest, it didn't quite work as good as I hoped. Henry gave me some mentoring in how to turn reading a poem into performing it. It was a bit weird reading it to an audience of one but really useful, and I was surprised to find myself learning whole chunks of the thing, me, who struggles to remember short ones. This mentoring thing really worked. The bit I forgot about, was performing it in front of a paying audience. I forgot bits, I mumbled bits, I sighed bits. But I am still proud of my achievements. I got up (ok again) and shared my words. And well, it almost went perfect.

It was maybe a big ask of myself, and a bit out of my comfort zone again, but it was important to push myself. This year has been a bit shitty and that can over shadow all the good bits.

I know not all of my family and friends could come to see, so here is my poem I called 'Futures Fears'
It's not finished, no poem ever is, and I may make changes if I use this again, but this is the tale of one rebellious Granny trapped in a future where there is no choice, any one...

She is eighty.
White haired – her face a weave of life's laughter lines
But not yet retired.
Deemed fit to work by the assessment station yet again,
she struggles to reinvent herself for yet another new career.
How many more years has she, in her?
And she fears, fears she will never retire.
Recalls almost forgotten friends
burned upon the all consuming pyre of work, nowt but dust.
Nowt but earth.
She alone is left to struggle on.
But, she is stubborn, her mind still strong,
And the R C crew have an opening
that, with a little reinvention, and some carefully worded wit,
she could seem to fit in.
R C. Rebellion Controller, No sorry Rebellion Counsellor to the young.
Not a fun job, but…
While re-engaging ancient tendencies to dream,
handing in her hearing aid for the obligatory government upgrading scheme,
And one interview later.
One decrepit psychology degree, she is in.
She Starts.
A glorified babysitter for almost rebellious teens.
To pretend to be a friend,
to assess, reform and control is her role.
To stop the youth questioning before it could grow
And roll over the stagnant status quo.
But she remembers believing in other things,
in freedom of choice, of path.
Of thought.
Beliefs she buried deep when the world closed in
When the all prevailing need for safety ended up declaring the human race NOT.



Safety and stability.
Two watch words that came to govern every choice, and thought
Because, how could there be human rights when they could be used wrong?
Better to tighten control, to let the government decide what was the good for all
and let statistics rule when government thought fell through.
To test, to test, to test, and only teach what people had to know, for the job required.
So, to keep the human population from harm, things,
that had been increasingly frowned upon, became banned.
Well, you can guess…
Number One. No alcohol.
2. No smoking, well you couldn’t fall ill cause all the doctors were gone.
3. No dancing, no singing, and no monthly meets, because who could know what you chose to talk about?
4. No running, jumping, no climbing trees, which led to
5. No quiet walks in the sunshine, or splashing in the rain, as these
were considered criminally insane.
SIX. No reading, but for the endless tests you did.
Seven… No writing, because you only needed to tap in your name..
And Eight.
No voting. And no one complained.
Propaganda fed, the population bowed its collective head
obsessed over the made up fear of difference between ‘us’, and ‘them?’
And anything not conforming to this new government norm, was twisted, evilled, taught as wrong!
So freedom came to an end,
and the will of the people roared in joy
forgetting the lives they’d destroyed, were their own.
Even she had knuckled down
Suppressed her individuality and surrendered, to survive.
Now, at the end of her life, she remembered just what it was to be alive
and into a sullen teens home she entered
willing again to set the world alight.

Now, in this future time and place statistics say ‘a 40 minute nap at 3pm for the 80s and over renews the brain’
so she had to follow this government advice
and to the annoyance of the sullen teen, complied.
She settled down, composing herself for sleep
taking out that hearing aid as that was where
the government surveillance was kept.
Slowed down her breathing, and the beating of her heart,
and winked.
And said…
Don’t let the bastards grind you down.
don’t let your dreams become fodder for the profit machine.
We have always been curious, thinking beings.
They have no right to control your thoughts, your choices or your time,
Be Yourself.
Rebel, the way your heart decides.’
As the teenager opened her mouth to speak
she pressed a wrinkled finger to those young lips.
but do it, quietly. Calmly. Seem to fit in, for a while anyway.
change the little things.
Until that spark in your heart becomes a flame.
For that is how they...’ She paused.
How we, boxed you in.’
by changing little seemingly unimportant things, until all will was broken, and free choice swept away.
And I, was too afraid to stand up and say NO.
Now, I an 80, and 40 years too late,
but you can make the difference I was afraid to make.
Grow, learn. And think.’


One by one, she fanned the teen rebellion spark
that she’d been employed to suppress
to control, to mould and reform.
She was the calm before the firestorm.
And…
This is naught but a fantastic tale.
An alternative future of history.
Not a foreshadowing of what things might be.
I hope not
because, I still want to dream, when I am 80.


Now, all I can do is wonder where I go to next? Now I realise I can learn my own stuff I should pick what works and use that but then?

Oh why it a poets work never done???

Thank you for reading.
Joanne xxx