responsibility

Unity And Hope – Part One – Why Is It So Impossible?

We forgot to live.
We are falling for it.
When WILL we not be afraid?
When will we feel safe?
Will we walk our streets at night without fear?

What is a left and right wing agenda?
Which of these do we fall into?
Which will please us?
What makes us feel the world will be alright?

Will we be able to agree completely on any of these questions 100% of the time?
What will make our fear subside?

Is it when a wall is around us to protect us, or free to roam and run?

Is it when there is no walls to left to place ourselves behind should we wish to be left alone?

Is it when we have enough guns to obliterate yourselves alongside everyone else?

Is it when all the guns are supposed to be gone and someone pulls one on us?

Is it when there is no more abortion and no more orphans due to mothers in poverty seeking backstreet terminations?

Is it when it is law that everyone can do with their bodies whatever they choose whenever they choose? Including allowing this right to minors, who are humans too, and not dependant on a parent to sustain them. If we choose alcohol, drugs, sex or self harm, it MUST be accepted as OUR RIGHT to do with our bodies what we wish.

Is it when all woman stop abusing their men with raging tantrums and passive aggressive patronising words and actions and treating them as villains, rapists and cheats? Or when men stop abusing their woman with emotional absence, withholding affection and praise, violence and financial manipulation?

Is it when all our food is grown in our backyard…organically in our Sunday sunshine? Is it when we can produce enough to feed not only our country’s but every other starving nation with our litter?

Will it be when we have enough homes to house all our vagabonds and orphans?
Will it be when we have every person who wants to come live in the ‘free world’ settled into jobs and homes?
That would be ALL of Africa – The Middle East – and parts of Asia too, who would give their front teeth to have the freedoms we have. The places where our old false teeth, pacemakers, and panties go whilst we grumble about the right to bare our breasts, and get paternity leave?

When will we get what we want?

We wish and picket for our Eden but denounce it ever existed.

The double minded contradictions are more and more bizarre.

Rights, and no responsibilities.
Choices, and no consequence.
Protection from anarchic crime and no heed for authority.

Right wing or left – its all the same… we want what we want. We want it how we want it, when we want it.
Huff and puff (normally in the Huffington post) about how terrible the world is for everybody and how WE will change it if we just…. if we just…

If we just what? Listen to y’all?

Maybe we are getting what we deserve and need, because we sure as hell cannot make up our minds what it is we want.

Maybe we should have stuck to being happy with the fruits of our harvest we had instead of hissing about what we did not?

 

(To Be Continued in Part Two – ‘We are no longer in Kansas’)

Thanks for reading.

IW

 

 

 

 

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Let Me Eat

ManYour hands are dirty, I say. You probably think I don’t like that much. It is the stains from work yesterday, you say. Like the stains in your eyes  – I think but do not say as under them, though I do not understand why, I shake. Not outwardly so you would notice, I cover that with bravado. They do burn don’t they? They appear to, your eyes I mean. Do you burn? I think I do.
Yes, it is your hands more than your eyes, virile and testing my will, my resilience to being the unseen. I want to scream at you to stop. Don’t you know how hard it is to be near you and not be touched like those hands would touch me… wanting me… distracting me from nothing and everything? Paying me attention.
Urging me to allow myself to be wanted, to want.
The knots I have tied around my desire with sleeplessness and duty rip apart and explode into a million fibres coursing through my flesh. You are my undoing. I no longer needed my hollow full, nor cold skin warmed, in these days and nights ahead, and now you have messed with that. Mess with me then. Place your youthful hand around my arm and tell me you want me. Tear away my wall with rock hard flesh up against this barrier I have placed between myself and pleasure, and force yourself through my emptiness. Persist for my eyes to stare like a stunned deer into yours making me a young girl blushing; being touched inside for the first time. Make me feel, something, anything, with streams of joy journeying to the spark of life.
But, I won’t mess with you. In me there is no new life, no joyful journey anticipated. No place for you on my bosom to rest your head and listen to a heartbeat. No place in my womb for you to feel the movement of your future. All you will find here is need, greedy desire, not of a soft petalled flower soaking up the sun but a dusk drawn, half starved lioness, tearing at her kill to feed her cubs before self.
Now let me eat.

IW