Voices of the Community
Last night I attended and shared some of my poetry at a beautiful and powerful fundraising event arranged by Norwich Writers Rebellion. I sat in a room surrounded by people who stand up bravely, boldly and passionately for the earth and its communities. We are angry and fierce because we love so tenderly. Thank you to everybody who held that space… it was beautiful to stand up there feeling so heard and to see such warm and wonderful (both familiar and unfamiliar) faces. And thank you to everybody else who shared their words and music too. I woke up this morning feeling emboldened and more in love with our beautiful world than ever. (See poems below).
On another (similar) note, my mum and I attended the Restore Nature march on Saturday. The whole day was a beautifully colourful collection of organisations and individuals all celebrating nature and there was a particularly wonderful moment when we all collided with an LGBTQ+ march running parallel. The solidarity and love for each other was BEAUTIFUL. I obviously cried because I was so moved by it all and my stepdad jovially stated afterwards “you probably didn’t know which way to go in!” It was also lovely to share that day with my wonderful mum.
My words from yesterday…
My thoughts tonight are about activism and how when you stand up for what is inherently wrong in this world you are also exposing yourself to it. And this hurts. Deeply. And it’s exhausting. So I want to acknowledge that, in myself and everybody here in this room.
Ultimately you do have options. To avoid what’s going on, to live your life ‘tra la la’ or to RESIST. And whether you choose to avoid or to stand up against injustice, it’s because you have the privilege to do so. We all need to acknowledge the privilege that we in this room have right now. The pure geographical luck that means we aren’t under siege and that when we need water we can simply pour it from a tap or pop toTesco’s.
But tonight we are using our privilege to share our words, and raise our voices for those who can’t.
Inequality, poverty, injustice and violence against people and the earth go hand in hand. This system is raging a violent war against the earth and our communities. And we cannot stand for it.
My first poem is called Resistance:
Cosy on your settee,
you turn on your TV
and see IPCC
Code Red.
Don’t turn your head
to the crash of the icebergs,
the fires that rise.
Don’t hide your eyes
to our demise
or the animal cries
as they fall around you.
Do I want to give birth?
when the worth
of the earth
is zero.
Zero is what we ask
so we don’t have to exist
in a four degree world,
so my daughter
can live to grow old.
Be bold.
Know your rights.
We will not be silent.
We stand here in resistance,
to listen and rise
as we cry
that we will not comply.
We are non-violent,
power to the people,
we trust the movement
and we demand
change.
All of us are witnessing the genocide in Palestine. The absolute horror has often left me feeling utterly hopeless. I am a different person standing here now, to who I was before October 7th. My view of the world & people has shifted seismically. I am more afraid. I am horrified and I am angry by all that people do. And don’t do.
The marches & vigils have allowed me to process some of the grief I have felt. I have shouted, cried & danced amongst a community of people who know how utterly wrong this is.
My next poem is called Hello to my rage:
Hello to my rage
coursing through my veins.
To the pain
Carried in my blood,
Now rising up,
not shutting up
As I listen to your conversations mundane
talking over the bombs that rain
down
over people,
people
the same as you
You are the same
as the Palestinian woman
who screams
on my screen,
her dead child on her knees,
blood and ash smeared across her face.
We are a fucking disgrace.
My race
My white face
The pale emptiness of my skin
Separating me from kin
We should re-label white to red,
To the colour of the blood that we’ve shed, pouring it over the soil of the earth,
the earth we treat with no worth.
Blood flowing into the roots of the trees,
Into the beautiful, healing weeds,
returning us with life.
From what.
From the blood of our dead.
The blood that we watch being shed.
Hello rage
I’m letting you speak
And shout
And scream
Out the pain from within
I’m laying you bare
So you don’t turn to hate
Telling you
You don’t need to be quiet
To stand up
And be part of the riot.
To Shout
freedom for ALL
not just for me, but we.
The community.
Thank you.
