CTRL X CTRL P

I am done with editing myself.

To fit your pleasure

And to not ruffle the feathers

Of your plumage,

Or to rock your boat.

And I am done with limiting myself

And my perspectives

To never looking behind

your mantle, and your mask.

Or lifting the curtain.

Above all, I am done with limiting myself

Just because it’s what you do.

Work in progress. January 2020

Image: moonflower: Monoprint and digital – copyright Lucy K Wills 2018

HARK

Will you hark at that wind!

Singing
Crying
Rattling the bones of the world
Shaking the trees

Nature
Is
Calling
Knocking on the doors and windows
Are we in?

We sit
And listen awhile
To the weather of the sea,
As it crosses the land

Now

August 2020

FALSE SPRING

The birds are singing today

Louder than they should be

And as I walk through the wood

Stepping quietly
Stepping like a deer

To practice in case I ever have to run
For who can now say that we will never have to run

And because I can hear the birds

More clearly

But they are singing today

Louder than they should

And though the sun

Illuminates

Teezes the gorse blossom out of bud

Thaws the frost

Spills amber gold coral branches across the sky

I worry,

Wish for the birds not to nest too soon

In this false spring.

As I walk through the wood

Stepping quietly
Stepping like a deer

Please.

January 2020

WORSHIP

Is the real idolatry that we do not worship each other?

And truest heresy that we consider that we are not already perfect*

*though some assembly required

What is it inside them that drives some people to escalate,

to need to conquer to vanquish, and to obliterate in order to exist?

And others to resolve at all cost, beyond the self, beyond selfless

Why should it take such sacrifice to make peace
Almost as much as it does to make war

Not fighting, but vigilant,

Holding the line, holding our hearts

Holding our breath.

We are all as sacred than anything else in existence

but also no less ordinary.

That should be enough, for anyone.

If it’s not fighting to see that, is it the wrong war?

Image: Banksy placards, Stop the War March 2003

POLYGONE

A poem for Poly Styrene, X Ray Spex. Love you, sister.

Who is Poly Styrene? 1979 documentary

Show me on the documentary where the man hurt you.
Which one of them was it that

Stole your music from you
Eroding your soul

Chipped away at your world until you had to:

Find another world to hide in
Lose yourself as one of many

Not mad but so hurt
So angry but not broken

Mending
Emerging

Still looking to that future
To write that bright future

With a childs heart and an ageless face

Racing death itself to tell out
Racing death itself to spell out

Life
Indigo
Deep

Your songs belong to everyone,

Still

Speaking truths that most people can’t quite hear
Speaking truths that most people can’t quite bear

Radiant
Scintillant

Anyway