RECKONING

A time of reckoning is come
Minneapolis is burning
Brooklyn is ablaze
Los Angeles is on fire
Death is Detroit
None of us can breathe
Amid the acrid stench of smoke from smoldering tyres
Governors call in the national guard
Military police face off with protesters outside the Oval Office
The nation is convulsed with rage and fury
As it slumps into a second Great Depression
When the looting starts, the shooting starts
My eyes are still sore from the pepper spray
JJ got a nasty gash from a guardsman with a mean truncheon
He was stitched up by Jasmine
With no health insurance to pay for his hospital treatment
Saw a CNN cameraman hit by a rubber bullet
During the wee small hours
Trump's hollow tweets echo around cyberspace
Fomenting violence against black protesters
Even as the dying embers of his presidency crumble to ash
Among Twitter fact checks
His sycophants scatter like naughty schoolboys
George Floyd RIP
#BLM

A time of reckoning is come
A plague has visited these valleys
A wave of disease washing over our former pit towns
Poisoned by the Brexit well
Is this what taking back control looks like?
Thatcher's children become Johnson's parents and grandparents
Our narrow lives circumscribed by the arbitrary cruelty of Universal Credit
Blighted by social services on the cheap
Presided over by a gang of gutless stooges
It was mayhem again at the food bank today
Barely enough essentials to go round
The wife's had no new PPE for weeks now
She says it'll be a miracle if she doesn't catch it
Stay alert, they tell her, protect the NHS

A time of reckoning is come
The hourglass lies on its side
Time suspended
The aeroplane fleets are grounded
Resting on the melting tarmac like lazy seagulls
The cruise ships are unwelcome in any port
Plague ships, we call them
The rain forests burn
Smudging the deep blue autumn skies indigo
Our indigenous peoples are buried in mass graves
Our favelas are cesspits of disease and suffering
A madman has seized the reins of government
Oh Lord, why have you forsaken us?

INSERT IF THERE HAS BEEN A BEREAVEMENT

Dear Fireseed

Thank you for contacting me about Domino Comings. Also thank you for all you have done to observe the lockdown and to help us defeat the spread of the Covid-91 virus. I appreciate how hard it has been for everyone at this difficult time.

[INSERT IF THERE HAS BEEN A BEREAVEMENT] May I add my condolences to the recent loss of your family member.

I have taken time to look at this important issue, and take in all of the detail over the last few days. I listened to Mr Comings' statement and felt that this was comprehensive and sincere. The police concluded “there might have been a minor breach of the Regulations” and the case has been closed with no further action required as going to Durham was within the rules. I believe if a constituent in a similar position worried about who would take care of their child had sought advice from my office, I would have advised as per the guidance that they must do what they believe is necessary in exceptional circumstances.

I am very aware of the anger and frustration this has caused to many constituents. I am aware of the sacrifices people have made. I have made the Prime Minister’s office aware of their frustrations when I have spoken to them over the past few days. Representing our great local area is an honour and a privilege, and even when I disagree I am happy to represent my constituents nonetheless. I think that it is now time to draw a line under this issue.

Everyone has made sacrifices over these last few months that they could never have imagined, including not being able to see sick family and friends and even attend funerals. Some of the language in this debate however has been unnecessary and unpleasant. I feel deeply uncomfortable with the hounding that Domino's family have received and were receiving prior to the family leaving for Durham, accounting for part of the reason to leave.

Some of you may think that I am just ‘toeing the line’ but I want to assure you this is my genuine view. Many people have lost trust in politics and ask that politicians speak more candidly. As your MP I see it as my job to be honest and candid with you. My focus throughout this pandemic has been to use my role as an MP to offer support, guidance and help to people across the constituency. That is where my focus will remain.

Best wishes

Carrie Sandbank MP

I CAN'T BREATHE

I can't breathe
A jackboot presses down on my windpipe
With all the weight of history
I see the slaves on the sugar plantations
Singing their spirituals
Whipped within an inch of their lives
I see the strange fruit
Swaying in the breeze of a cool Alabama evening
I see Dr King
Speaking to a nation from the Washington steps
I had the same dream
I saw the same mountain tops
I saw bills, laws and statutes
I heard the pretty words
the stories of liberty, fraternity and equality
I saw a man who shares my racial ancestry
Walking and talking with kings on the White House lawn
But as I lie in the gutter
Suffocating, broken and in agony
I
Can't
Breathe

R NUMBER

The R number is like an invisible drone
Hovering hidden among us somewhere between 0.7 and 0.9
Nudging dangerously close to 1
Although no one knows for sure
R for reproduction
R for rule
R for restriction
R for responsibility
R for reluctant
R for rash
R for reprehensible
R for restarting the economy
R for rushing like lemmings over a cliff?

BLIND SPOT

A red mist descends
A visceral fury of righteous indignation
A blow below the belt
An offence to the British sense of fair play
But, distracted by the bluster and obfuscation
The bystander is looking in the wrong direction
He takes his eye off the ball
And intercepts a hospital pass
Feeling the full force of a leg-breaking tackle
As his tibia shatters into pieces
He is stretchered off the pitch
Driven to A & E
To find himself waiting on a trolley
In a dim corridor
The pain slowly building
Without triage or painkillers
Waiting for the morphine hit to numb the senses
As he writhes in agony
Looking for someone else to blame

DO NOT ADJUST YOUR MIND – THERE IS A FAULT WITH REALITY

Do not adjust your mind
The goal posts have shifted
The laws no longer apply
Facts are alternative
Truth merely a metaphor
Be a rule-maker not a rule-taker
Social distancing is for yes men
No need to work remotely when you can drive to the office
Be exceptional in exceptional circumstances
The media cannot be relied upon
Those reporters need their eyes testing
Those leaflets through the door all lies
The rose garden no longer reserved for presidents

ATTENTION

We pay attention
Attention has a price
And it has a cost
We pay attention to things that have value
Is love pure embodied attention?
Teaching involves gaining and focusing attention
Learning involves paying better attention
Or attending in new ways to what was previously peripheral
Attention requires readiness
Struggling students are not paying enough attention
Attention is enticement
Drawing the audience forward
Designing little speed bumps
To help people concentrate on their driving
2 + 2 = 4
2 + 2 = ?
Which of those equations got your attention?
If you're explaining, you're losing

ANTHROPOLOGY

W: Western
E: Educated
I: Industrialised
R: Rich
D: Democratic

On reflection, I live in a WEIRD culture.

RENAISSANCE, MAN

Amid these dark days of death and carnage
What if this moment became a rebirth?
A paradigm shift in consciousness and awareness
Where we better understood our collective place in the ecosystem?
Watching the pathetic antics of the Johnson-Trump-Bolsonaro triumvirate
It's hard not to view the crisis as a morality tale
A warning of what happens when overweening hubris
Conquers a grounded awareness of responsibilities and constraints
Icarus flying too close to the sun all over again
Symbol of a culture that sucks up the resources of four planets
And vomits out a steady stream of toxic waste
Watch naive young Icarus flying in the face of ecological meltdown
Watch tired old business-as-usual trump a radical rethink
Now that we've pressed the pause button, has a space opened up ?
Can we at last see that our lives of profligate consumption and wanton waste require a re-imagining?
Can we pivot and change direction?
Or are we condemned to keep playing the same old song
Needle stuck on the same crumbling record?

SAVAGE HEART

Shaking with anger
Choking back tears
I hit a wall
This embodied response shocks me
A visceral reaction
Where does that fit into a competency framework?
The right hemisphere goes where the left hemisphere fears to tread
Nurse, pass me the scalpel
Nurse?
I'm falling
Falling into an abyss
I wade through the toxic slush
Of an incontinent factory
The abandoned child walks sadly round in circles
Looking for a lost teddy bear
"There, there" says the social worker
"Mummy will be home soon"
Immaculate therapist flexes his fingers and asks
"So how are you today?"

MISTAKEN IDENTITY

The magpies are out in force on a lush velvet baize of freshly mown grass
They browse assiduously for breakfast titbits nestling in the damp earth
Suddenly a small member of the party flies up as if startled
And clamps itself to the slim torso of an oak sapling
It pecks frantically at the bark, chirruping
As if it knows a secret that the others don't
Then the little magpie is off again
First hopping across to a cherry tree still ripe with blossom
Then onwards to another small oak where again it clings in vertical position
This is the strangest magpie I have ever seen
In fact it is not a magpie
It is a greater-spotted woodpecker

IT COULD ONLY BE YOU

(G) bbccb (D4) a (D) abaaf# (C) g

Every hat that you wear
Every thing that you do
Every role that you play
It could only be you

Every song that you sing
Every storm you sail through
Every poem you write
It could only be you

(A4/7) c#---d (G) b bbbbc# (D) a aaaab (A) a
(A4/7) c#---d (G) edddd d (C) ccccd (D) ed

Every step of the way
Everywhere that you go
Every gift that you give
It could only be you

Every way that you turn
It's such a beautiful view
Every secret I learn
It could only be you

Every goal that you set
Every dream that comes true
Every plan that you make
It could only be you

MY WORLD IN TEN IMAGES: #4

Sticky notes - the post-its that you can edit and save forever

CONNOTATIONS

Spin or lies?
Illegal immigrant or asylum-seeker?
Unskilled labour or essential worker?
News management or the suppression of information?
Unelectable or impermissible?
Defence secretary or minister of war?
Peace process or ongoing oppression of a people?
Collateral damage or thousands of innocents killed?
Political points scoring or holding government to account?
Conspiracy theory or inconvenient truth?

MY WORLD IN TEN IMAGES: #3

The Church: 'Heyday' - great music and great shirts

MY WORLD IN TEN IMAGES: #2

Jim McGuinn's 12-string Rickenbacker sound

MY WORLD IN TEN IMAGES: #1

The back cover of Revolver

CV OF FAILURE

1976: Cast as Ignorance, non-speaking part in primary school play, A Christmas Carol
1984: Gave up classical guitar Grade 5 because it was too difficult
1986: Got a C in A-level French, my favourite and strongest subject
1988: Demoted from Seconds to Thirds university football team
1989: Awarded a 2/2 degree in Architecture from Nottingham University; gave up vocational training for good
1990: Sacked from job in Sydney for scruffiness and casual attitude; nearly killed by falling beer barrel
1991: Caught mystery gastrointestinal disease in Calcutta and lost 15 kilos in weight; nearly killed by charging train of mules on narrow Himalayan bridge
1994: Fell out with best friend while staying at his house in Newcastle; never saw him again.
1995: Dumped by Spanish girlfriend in Bilbao
1996: Failed DTEFLA written exam paper and had to wait a year to retake
2003: Failed written exam for Module 2 of Masters in Development Studies (Open University) and dropped out of course
2005: Kicked out of Anglo-Korean rock band The Fireseeds in Seoul for overbearing attitude and insistence on band playing Watton originals
2009: Dropped by Birmingham University for wanting to work part-time; resigned from part-time ecocentre job.
2011: Unemployed for 3 months with no income as portfolio career ground to a standstill
2014: Busked all day in Birmingham City centre; repeatedly moved on and earned grand total of £13.
2020: Supported the union's call to strike just before the whole world went into lockdown; came back to work on 16 March, the day everybody else started working from home.

TORY CODE OF CONDUCT

• Lie
• Obfuscate
• Blame
• Backtrack
• Improvise
• Evade
• Distract

BANDWIDTH

My system is frozen
My hair is a mess
My skin looks terrible
My speech is stuttering
My hearing is impaired
My brain is bamboozled
I don't have the bandwidth to take it all in
I've made an appointment with my GP to run a speed test
I asked for an Ethernet cable to be plugged into my arm
Pretty soon I may need to go on IT support

THE MAGIC MONEY TREE (PART 1)

As she absentmindedly opened her bank statement, Daisy squinted uncertainly at the screen of her tablet. What? There must be some mistake. Instead of the usual modest three digits, a one and four zeroes trailed across the white page: £10,000,762! Where had all those extra digits appeared from? Was this some kind of joke or scam? She shook her head and refreshed the page. The numbers remained stubbornly in their places. One hour later, a series of confusing conversations with the bank had only deepened the mystery. "An untraceable, anonymous donor has legitimately deposited £10 million into your bank account" was the gist of it.

Daisy decided to be patient. So a magic money tree had dropped a £10-million apple into her lap. Yeah, right! There had to be a simple explanation for this mysterious endowment of benevolence. It was only a matter of time before a letter from the bank would plop onto her doormat, explaining all. This strange incident really wasn't worth mentioning to anyone among her circle of family and friends.

And so Daisy waited. A week went by, then a month, then three. Then one day a new quarterly statement appeared in her inbox. It included her annual interest. Last year, she recalled, this had amounted to the princely sum of £1.50; this year it was £36,472. Thirty-six thousand, four hundred and seventy-two quid! Daisy rose from her desk, stared out of the window, and exhaled long and hard. This wasn't a fantasy any more, this magic money tree was real, and it was starting to drop more apples!

OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS

What is fear but the opportunity to show courage?
What is waiting but the opportunity to show patience?
What is following but the opportunity to lead?
What is fire-fighting but the opportunity to flameproof?
What is meanness but the opportunity for compassion?
What is abandonment but the opportunity for support?
What is selfishness but the opportunity for generosity?
What is pride but the opportunity to show humility?
What are all these things but the opportunity for growth?

ZOOM MADONNA

As my amused muse poses for the artist
Her face is a picture of serenity
Against a rich screen of lapiz lazuli
How I love to watch the trace of a smile
Flicker elegantly across her features
A classical beauty framed in mundane black plastic
How much more she merits
A sumptuous surround of gold leaf would not befit her
A widescreen replaced with a golden mean
How the cobblestones must miss her fleeting footsteps
The cold columns her gentle caress
How lonely the boys
Draped over their mopeds in hollowed out streets
Dreaming of a time when their catcalls pinged around the piazzas
How the pews of the basilica
Long to welcome her in silent prayer
How downcast are the alabaster pilasters and fabulous frescoes
Melancholy in their baroque majesty
But the zoom Madonna returns my gaze
Renaissance woman
The face that launched a thousand conference calls

FULL MOON

Minutes from the mundanity of the rush-hour crush
Just within range of the giddy chocolate aromas
We stumble upon a land of fabulous mansions
The lanes unravel to reveal guilty facades
All terracotta tiles and patterned brickwork
Beds of fragrant roses and fiery red rhododendrons
Manicured gardens and pedicured lawns
Gilded drives are the resting place
For well-fed BMWs and Mercedes
On window sills sit sculptures of Apollo, Venus and Shiva
They say King Midas once stayed here
Behind the houses wild and beautiful gardens extend their tendrils
Spacious pools fed by waterfalls and populated by nymphs
Surreptitiously I clamber on top of a mossy boulder
To watch the naughty nymphs splashing around in the evening twilight
Their giggles swallowed up by the gathering gloom
A fox saunters by
Somewhere in the woods
A stag bays and a wolf howls
The night is very soft as we travel home
Beneath a beard of stars and planets

PANDEMISPHERES

Disconnection or relationship?
Authority or leadership?
Restriction or constraint?
No because, or yes if?
Selfishness or generosity?
Fear of failure, or courage in adversity?
Shutting down the space, or opening it up?
A power grab, or a just cause?
Holding an opinion, or noodling on a thought?
Napping or thrashing?
Boxing it up, or unpacking it?
Being authentic or showing integrity?
Helping onerself, or serving others?
Machine education, or human learning?
Being world-class, or acting as if?
What you do, or who you are?
Filling jugs, or lighting candles?
Staying in bed, or showing up at the desk?
Knowing the answers, or asking the right questions?
Clutching to the illusion of control, or relinquishing it?
Winning the finite contest, or playing the infinite game?

THE STREET IS ALL MINE

The street is all mine
So I follow the waxing moon
A glowing egg in its darkening firmament
Bowling downhill
Passing the neat and tidy suburban lawns
The screens flickering in bedrooms and living rooms
Dodging the cars that mount the pavements

The street is still mine
So I turn the corner
The moon on the outside lane
The lilac here so fragrant
The tiny cherries so filled with promise
Strangers in my house
The gradient beckoning me on

The park is all mine
Though the odour of marijuana lingers
The moon now in pursuit
The geese retired for the evening
The joggers soaking in their bathtubs
The dog-walkers safely back in their kennels
The grass gently yielding beneath my feet

The street is again mine
So I follow the bend
The moon hard on my shoulder
Past the new houses with their straight lines
Cutting the twilight with a sharp blade
Along the sleepy leasow
Homeward bound

WRONG AND RIGHT

Something about this is wrong
This car-peopled asphalt desert
This severe architecture
All edges and angles
Not a crack in the pavement
Not a weed in the flower bed
Trimmed bushes with no flowers
Deathly silence
A discarded dust mask
A dirty wet wipe on a lawn
Five minutes later in the wood
Everything feels right
The soaring limes rise like massive pillars
Worshipping the dawn
The fluty calls of a song thrush
Answered by the insistent alarm of a great tit
Treebark weaves sinuous patterns
Pools of light illuminate small clearings
In shadier glades
Bluebells stand to attention
Soldiers in massed ranks
Saluting the day

HAUNTED BY YOU

I roam uneasy pavements
Blossom on the wet grass
Something stirs inside me
A memory from the past

I turn to you
Then feel your loss
I'm standing there alone
No traffic here
The streets are ours
In this strange town of ghosts
Haunted by you

I sense a sudden presence
A shiver runs down my spine
Standing there beside me
As the season rolls back time

I turn to you
Then feel your loss
I'm standing there alone
No traffic here
The streets are ours
In this strange town of ghosts
Haunted by you

HUMAN MAGPIE

Early morning walk
Seeing with new eyes
A human magpie
Stealing experience
Every new discovery a small miracle
A maple trunk decorated with psychedelic lichen
Dayglo azaleas in pink and purple
A tiny snail crossing the wet pavement to safety
A massive Ionic capital
Transported from ancient Greece
Festooned with deep green moss
A song thrush alarmed in the bluebell wood
An erratic milky white pebble lying in the gutter
Just waiting to be picked up and taken home
A useful addition to a garden border
Then turning a corner
A supermarket delivery driver
Engine on
Head down
Scrolling through the content overload
He doesn't look up
He doesn't notice
The curious magpie in the empty street