Saturday, August 19, 2017

Angry Poet

Sometimes words just overflow and have to be spoken out loud.

There’s good - And there’s bad

And there’s angry
I’m angry
I’m angry inside
Deep inside
Where hurts I never imagined could happen
Are happening
Even the infinitesimal spaces
The cavernous hollows
Of what makes up me
Are hurting
I’m hurting Heather Hyer
I’m hurting for you
I’m hurting with anger,

I’m livid, incensed,
Fist clenched,
Heart racing,
Teeth grinding
Fuming to boiling over,
Furious from the inside-out
So heated I’m in meltdown,

And I know shouting won’t help,
Screaming won’t help
Throwing objects across the room
Smashing devices
Ripping up newspapers,
Burning books,
Getting hold of a picture
Of Donald Trump
Screwing it up into a ball
And setting fire to it
Won’t help

You haters of this world
You nasty people
You who like to bully
You racist thugs
You destroyers of lives
You vile, offensive,
Nauseating bigots
You foul mouthed xenophobic
Extremist right
You Nazi flag flying
Demolishers of society
You have made me

And now this
Innocent people killed in Barcelona
Terrorists shot dead in the street
Echos of Westminster Bridge
Manchester kids blown to pieces
Sunbathers machine-gunned down
German Shoppers annihilated
Je suis Charlie!

And this is only a fraction of it
This is only recent memory
This isn’t going back to bandstands
In Hyde Park
To double decker buses
To underground trains
This isn’t going to Syria
Afghanistan, Turkey, Israel
Ghaza, The West Bank,
Chechnia, Ukrain, Pakistan
Yugoslavia, Croatia,
And when it seemed like the whole world
Was against Blair going to war in Iraq
Nothing could stop him
No amount of ‘plaques for peace’
No amount of anger
No amount of love
Well that’s what it feels like now
Like the love in my body
Is under attack

So get this, body
Get this world
I’m telling you to get a hold
I’m telling you to stop hurting
And to replace that rage
With something constructive

Replace the anger
Replace the clenched fist
Replace any trace of venom

And You
What happened to human kindness?
What happened to a sense of decency?
What happened to conscience?

Don’t tell me God wants
you to be the way you are
Don’t tell me that

Figure it out

There’s good
And there’s bad
I know where I stand

And now I'm going to bake a cake with lots of love in it. 
I'll be right back when I've calmed down a bit.

Love and hugs,
Jane x

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Rain in Great Ayton...Well it's not Crete is it.

Whilst Crete slumbers in a summer heat wave Jane and I enjoy a bit cooler weather in North Yorkshire.

Jane Sharp - Writer - Poet - Musician : Rain in Great Ayton: I love July! Especially the 10th of July. You see it's my Birthday. Over the years I have seen some wickedly alcofrolic birthdays, in fa...

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Removing Ear Wax

When we got back from our holidays there was a poster through the door advertising a free consultation with an audiologist who was offering treatments for the removal of ear wax. I thought, God! has it come to this. But I kept the flyer, and re-reading it today, it gave me inspiration for this poem. I do suffer from a bit of tinnitus but I think I'll live with it.

‘Every year in the UK, an estimated 2.3 million people have problems with excessive ear wax.’

Never Stick Anything Smaller Than Your Elbow in Your Ear

If you’ve hairy canals, or you stick things
in your ears, like plugs or phones, or plastic
amplifiers, or you’ve clocked up more years
than most and you’re a bit dizzy, it’s wax.

If it itches, or aches or makes a high
pitched buzz-like radio interference
or you say ‘pardon’ when shop assistants
speak, or hairdressers ask if you want tea
and all you see are lips moving sideways
as you smile into the mirror, It’s wax.

You know what they say, never stick anything
smaller than your elbow in your ear,
So you know the eraser on the end
of your pencil, isn’t a good idea
and you don’t want to use a cocktail stick
for fear of poking a hole in your drum
and you’ve just clipped your fingernails because
they’re too long to text, and anyway now
you’ve pushed it so far down with whatever
you’ve had plugged into your ears it’s stopping
the sound, and at worst is a bung of wax.

Then this leaflet drops through your letterbox,
Ear Wax Removal. What! Irrigation?
Microsuction? Dry procedures, dissolve
and flush out hard, dry or impacted wax.

Oh! Eugh! Disgusting, audiologist
not in my front room, you think, Google it.
You read about available products:
Smart Earwax Removal – Insert and twist,
grooved head collects more wax than cotton swabs,
Earpal Ear Wax Remover – Unisex - 
I suppose men have bigger ears, more wax - 
a loop of specially shaped surgical
steel which can never perforate the eardrum,
Cordless Vacuum, Ear Wax Syringe, Pick,
Electric Vibrating Wax Remover,
Hydrogen Peroxide Drops, with warning - 
do not use if you have tried to remove
any ear wax using your finger nail.
Multifunctional swab – for all functions
see a medical practitioner. And,
if you really want to try something new
there’s Thermo-Auricular Therapy
where they stick a foot long candle made of
linen soaked in paraffin, in your ear,
set light to one end, and claim negative
pressure sucks the wax into the candle,
it’s called The Chimney Effect, but you don’t
feel the heat because you are listening to
Zen-music whilst staring at a Buddha.
And afterwards you’ve got warm, relaxed ears
but can’t hear a thing. You’ve read enough.

You log out of Google, scrunch the flyer
into a ball no bigger than your elbow,
and put it in the bin. You decide the
constant music of the spheres in your head
is not at all unpleasant, and anyway, 
it won’t be long before your fingernails grow.

I think I must have a warped muse working with me at the moment, either that or I'm just not hearing right.

I had a lovely day at the Shortland's Poetry Circle Summer Celebration, at Ripley Arts Centre, Bromley, on Tuesday where the guest poets were Danielle Hope and Michael Loveday. After the reading there was a homemade afternoon tea complete with strawberries dipped in dark chocolate, yummy! It was a good antidote to the terrible sadness of the past couple of weeks in London.

If you haven't listened to Ben Okri's poem, do it now.

So sad, such a brilliant poem and what an accurate account of that terrible scene. My prayers are for both the lost and the living.

It's a sad note to end on but all those people deserve a minute of our energy to help them get through.

Talk again soon,
Jane x

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Jane Sharp - Writer - Poet - Musician : : Bedroom Stuff

Jane Sharp - Writer - Poet - Musician : : Bedroom Stuff: Back in Birdwell after our little sojourn in Crete, I have spent a few days reorganising the house so as to create a working space. I wa...

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Jane Sharp - Writer - Poet - Musician : Death on The Happy Train

Jane Sharp - Writer - Poet - Musician : Death on The Happy Train: MALIA!!! The weather over the past few days has been a bit grim to say the least but today the sun is shining and I would imagine the b...