
i know in my body
when i’ve reached the point of ease, of relaxation, of joy
my eyes rise skywards, and i take in the clouds,
the breathing is deeper
the moving is slower
the feeling is bright

i know in my body
when i’ve reached the point of ease, of relaxation, of joy
my eyes rise skywards, and i take in the clouds,
the breathing is deeper
the moving is slower
the feeling is bright

picking my way through the gravel and stones, downwards,
making progress, slow and with care,
thank you, i would have missed their passing, across the path ahead
one stopped, unperturbed, still and erect, checking me out
checking them out

a burst of autumnal rusts and reds
a westerly-north wind, evening coming on
a warm meal in my belly
be in the moment, absorb it.

Unto the deep, the deepness of calling
stepping out as a battered sojourner,
into the beauty and stillness of autumn,
strength comes from struggle and speaking the uncomfortable.
Anger but also grace in the refusal.

the beauty of autumn is scars
and well -worn wounds,
a weathering soul and willing heart

from the couch to the kitchen
and back again, a SLOW day
of goodness and rest

I’m trying here. Really trying to look after myself. To rest when I need to. To eat well. To move my body. To protect my mind, body and soul. To make a way out of nothing. Protect my energy. From what I hear you say?
Vampires. Blood fucking sucking vampires. I’m not referring to the Count here. I’m referring to those people who treat others like a puppet or pawn ( insert whiteness/ white people here).
All paternalistic, thinking they’re doing me some kind of favour when they take my ideas and run with them and then come back to me ( that is if they do) and present some kind of gig/job/role for me to carry out sometimes for free( sometimes for a fee) and think/expect/assume that I’m okay with this. That I’d jump at the chance of doing this shit for them on their own terms with them assuming all the control and power when I’ve been doing this shit by myself for others for as long as time, without shit from them.
Exploitation. Extraction. White supremacy culture comes to mind. Comes to heart here.
No discussion. No seeking permission. No asking if this is okay. Nothing.
Except the conceited, privileged, racist assumptions/ take over that this is something I would do and not refuse to do because … that I need them? Or that I need the money or the exposure? That this is the only way to do it? Or what?
I don’t know because they didn’t see fit to talk to me about it.
So many things are wrong about this situation. The whole concept. The timeframes. The costings. The language used to describe my people. My community.
Not to even mention that they spelt my name wrong throughout the whole fucking ‘proposal’.
I don’t think they know who they are dealing with. I don’t think they really know who I am or have been listening to me all along. Really listening to me and understanding who I am and where I’m coming from.
There’s blood in the water.
The sun has broken through the dark.
Vampires are not feasting on my fucking soul anymore.
I sold my soul once before and it didn’t turn out well for me.
With soul and dignity and integrity intact I’m not about to surrender them again for jackshit. For someone who does not hear/ value/ see me.
I refuse.
Jog on!

landscape on the turn
throws me back to another time, another place
in the mountains of Lazio
we gathered to write
taking inspiration from the changing colours
we gathered to share
visiting the ruins in Rome
ice creams and coffees
we gathered to create magic

raindrops on petals
a delicate caress is
felt within the soul