It’s very rare you’ll hear anything remotely political from me, I prefer to listen, observe and cast my vote quietly, with little fuss. However, these are peculiar times. In response to Boris’ “no show” at a press conference yesterday, I felt compelled to write the following, in the hope that it resonates:
Wake up dozing Englishmen
from armchair’d dusty slumber!
Though cricket bats have been oiled and stored,
the orchards are swollen, the flowers in final bloom,
do not rest!
Heed this call to action – trouble is afoot.
A national threat stands before drowsy eyes;
the price of tea will rise!
Wake up and speak out now
before European gates clang shut.
It’s tough out there.
Really? Once More?
As it was the last year
and the year before
and before and before and before?
It’s guaranteed we’ll smash our targets
we’ll exceed every goal
the bar charts show
every year in growth.
The percentages are permanently flashing
We gave the competition a thrashing
One thing intrigues, regarding your peaks
of the increases you frequently speak;
surely they emerge from troughs?
but they’re not spoken of?
We lead from the front,
we’re leading the charge
we’re grounding our clarity
we’re driving hard
we lean in and rise up
a positive outlook
in the right direction
gaining more and more traction
we come to the table
we’re ready and able
in a tough landscape
a snapshot in time…
will always see us
deliver the topline.
For goodness sake man!
Give it a rest!
It’s tough in here too,
let’s just do our best.
It was the practical low heeled brown boots
that first caught my eye
my glance cast sideways so not to embarrass
the subject of my attention.
Secretly I studied her slender legs
leading up to the hem of a brown floral dress
and the crocheted cuffs of a sensible beige cardigan.
The modesty of attire surprised me.
Authors on their book launch night
are lavish and elegant
coiffured, polished and primed
but not so this lady.
I liked the understated look,
the quiet confidence of a writer
who had no need of a façade.
Her body of writing shining on its own merit
with no false vanity.
I adored this lady before she spoke a word
Yes, I feel immortal… this morning I opened Twitter and there staring back at me was a quotation from an interview I gave a year ago, and underneath was my name Nicola Hulme… I had to read it twice to make sure it was really me..it also carried the hashtag #wednedsaywisdom
I ask for no more, I am immortal, I have a quote as had Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Maya Angelou, Elizabeth Gilbert, Oprah Winfrey, CS Lewis, Terry Pratchett…
I feel complete. My job here is done.
OK so I’m not a superhero, but it just shows that wonderful things do happen and can happen for everyone. It’s something I believe in very strongly.
PS. I my job as writer will never be done, I have opened the gateway, I have let in the light, I will write until I have no more words. It isn’t a job, it’s a passion, perhaps an addiction.
Life is too short and so
to save time,
to be efficient,
I wear an Einstein wardrobe;
when a kaleidoscope of colour
flounces before me, I envy
I indulge in the dream of being
free to reside in sparkling rainbows
simply dancing, with no destination
kicking away scrumpled up “to-do” lists
tossed aside with abandon.
The moment passes.
I console myself;
a books beauty is held on the inside.
I move on.
This poem was strangely influenced by an article by Julie Marie Wade, Wednesday, March 18, 2015: article
“Put a Dog in There: Poetry and the Power of Concrete Nouns”
used as a Napowrimo craft resource. In her essay she discusses the power of including nouns.
May we set an example to the young girls stepping out into the world – go get ’em tiger!