I blamed big-pharma for a while.
Then the doctors who didn’t communicate with each other.
Then I wondered and sailed the high seas for a while.
‘Normal levels’ she said. “Codine, paracetamol.. ” she said. “Why didn’t you go to the conquest yourself?” she asked.
[Because I couldn’t].
On the 17th August 2008 you died.
Was it the big-pharma cocktail; the black dog; the will to live no longer or just the plain old “Misadventure”.
I’ll never know.
I don’t think you wanted to leave. I know in the past you have, but not this time.
I wish I didn’t leave the country the year before you died. I really wish I stayed here. I really wish I was there for you.
You underlined the word renaissance in the dictionary.
You painted and played music .. you wrote.
You created a warm home.
You had a gentle spirit connected to nature ..
You cared for animals, nature and humans alike.
You cared for me when blood ran from my head. You protected me. You loved me.
I could have done so much more for you. I could have been more generous and offered to drive you home more often. I could have cooked some lovely food for you. I could have helped you more, given you more, showed my love more. I don’t know if I can forgive myself.
You are five years and two days gone. The day before your funeral I paid for an overpriced flight, came home from the England to you – laid out in the sitting room. White polo jumper and navy pinafore.I kissed your forehead and touched your hair.
We tried to get you a basket coffin. But I didn’t preserve. I tried to pick your memorial card, but I didn’t.. Five years later I still miss you and I still haven’t done a card for you.
I hope that this love I feel is the fire in my belly.
You are my True grit and determination from now on.
I wished upon a falling meteorite last week..
That kind of love never fades.
My gasp aloud. My skipped beat.
I know there are no pretences is wanting peace and happiness for you; and wanting you to be alive. And wanting to believe that wishing something, could bring you and me together again.
Despite every rational bone that ever existed,
I wished for you to be alive and happy.
Always shining brightly.
My hope and my love.
Rest in Peace my dear Sister.
Once there was a lot of land that anyone could access and from which anyone could take what they needed to survive. When that land, and other common resources, was enclosed, people, including machine-breakers called Luddites, rose up. Peter Linebaugh talks about Luddism, the fencing off of the commons, popular resistance to dispossession, and the radical message and enduring influence of the Magna Carta.
Ode to The Commons
[Tear gassed for resisting the destruction of a public park – to make way for yet another shopping centre].
Go Team Capitalism!
Faster, Stronger, Quicker. Go Team! Beat those protesters till they bleed. Beat them till their eyes roll around in their heads; and they never dare take to the streets again.. beat them. Beat them hard.
Some concerned countries have made mute noises about the ‘heavy-handed action of Turkish police against protesters’. Who makes the tear gas? Who makes the rubber bullets? Do riot police in other countries actually treat protestors differently? Remember Genoa. Everyday in Rossport. If it’s not batons, it’s the constant surveillance – a true sign of a totalitarian regime.
Go Team Capitalism! Kill the planet! Take the Commons! What communities! Long live our ever increasing profits and corresponding share price!