Isaiah (I am pregnant with purpose)

this is a poem that was inspired by the words of a beautiful and deep woman, and by the WORD of God spoken through the prophet Isaiah and recorded in chapters 54, 55 and 62. (You can see it here: http://www.biblegateway.com just enter Isaiah 54, or Isaiah 55 or Isaiah 62 in the search box)
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Isaiah

I am pregnant with purpose
soon I will have more children
than someone married a long time
it's no immaculate conception -
my redeemer, my king, is also my husband.
He, from whom all blessings flow,
has planted in me a new seed;
each day He feeds me with food that won't spoil
his waters have given me life everlasting.
all that i am, and am to be,
let it be according to His original design,
the old covered abundantly by his grace,
as well as every false step I will take with good intentions.
Our covenant of love: His life, my life;
with every wound, with every whipping, Him closer to the cross of victory,
with every loss, with every tear, me closer to the point of empathy.
that all
for which it is worth living
for that it is also worth suffering
that one day
we will stand in glory in the courts of the king
our children ruling the land
not one of their brother going without
nor their sisters seeing injustice.

Great Wall of China (a poem written 19 October 2006 on the District line!! a prolific line to travel on...)

A day
Like a thousand years
Seemingly all it took
For this
Iron and brick and barb wire
Great Wall of China
To be built around my heart
While I was trying
To be a good girl
And forgive your betrayal
Loving my neighbour way more than myself
And God
Well
Yes
Loving Him
Out of duty and reverence and fear
And because they say
God is good all the time
But really
Hurting
That my daddy God
Hasn’t got me clothed in a princess’ gown
Strolling through fields of gold.

Then
One day
A shock to my senses
Two hours in a hospital
First class service, private outpatient
Albeit alone
And the wall started cracking with sobs and tears emerging unexpected!
That was when I realised that the wall was there
And all the bitterness it had been enclosing
Of my one-way giving
And emotional somersaults
And your mountain of lies and
Too many skeletons to fit into a closet
And now
The scorn
of marriage
to another woman!


All that
Rushing out
Gushing through the cracks
Of the Great Wall of China around my heart
Time to love me
Put everything else on hold
Make some room
Clear the air;
I do NOT want a single piece of this wall
To come between
Me
And those fields of gold

Bad Eggs (a poem)

Came across your picture on the internet today.
I was not expecting it.

Tried to zoom in to check the look in your eyes
As you pose
In your new role, new job title,
Standing between two tourists.

Could not really recognise you.
I mean – it was you, looked like you, your name was there.
You looked skinnier, or maybe that’s just me looking for evidence
That my occasional thoughts of impending doom
Have their foundations in reality.

But
it was no longer my you
The you who once was such a part of me,
And all I can feel now
Is the smell of bad eggs.

RUSSIAN ROULETTE (a poem about Dzaleka refugee camp in Malawi, written 2004)

This life is random –
Rather than a lottery it is a Russian Roulette.
As I walk through the thousands upon thousands of souls
Parked in this refugee camp
I want to hide
Because pain gets in the way of thinking
How can we inflict death
Into the lives of one another.
It is grey, it is cold
And desperation screams at the top of its lungs
From the silent eyes of those observing me while I watch them,
From the protection of my shell,
Various categories in this human zoo.
Isaiah 32:17
“Justice will produce lasting peace and security”.
It was spoken longer ago than I can even count
And yet we have not learnt its lesson.
I put myself on the front line
And ask to see, everyday, the grain of justice I can bring into a world so needy
Before I leave the burden of this responsibility
Into the hands of those who will just wash them clean
And decline the honour
Of serving the Prince of Peace.

wide eyed child (a poem written early 2005)

Wide Eyed Child
(prov 6:1-5)

I found today
The word of the Lord
That would have saved me
Had it found me
Before my dangerous naivety.

The sting of a painful realisation
Of my own illusion
Makes room for amore helpful
Dose of understanding, repentance, forgiveness and exaltation.

God is good, all the time
His word is life
For those who are blessed to receive it.

Now I ask
For his light, his spirit to supply
To my ability to lose myself
In what is only relatively urgent, marginally important,
So that I might read
Daily drops of dew to keep me alive
In a world of wolves
Dressed as little lambs
And traps set on every corner
For this wide eyed child.

U Turn (a poem 11 August 2006)

I have seen it with my own two eyes
after the rose-tinted glasses were removed
I have seen it
foreign to familiar
this river that's a landmark
in the city of my temporary dwelling;
changing,
one day overflowing
occupying the banks with its proud, full swing,
clearly there, ruling,
playing a role not to be missed.
Then - July.
A month of no rain and even Richmond Park looks like a Zambian safari.
Cycling through it my mind races
how a landscape can make my heart pound!
Anyway
the river once glorious now minuscule
insignificant
a murky stream alongside its faul-smelling rubbish
now exposed in the half twilight sun
it was there all the time
now circumstances bringing it to the forefront
and it's too late
for a last minute quick fix.
So, miles and time zones away
a character in a different tale
you change
and I see you
your rubbish exposed
the rose tinted glasses in the bin
and, finally!
I walk away.

PASSION

the more I live & the more I learn: love & pain are two sides of the same coin

The Spirit is strong (a poem, written June 27, 2006 on the Hammersmith & City line)

Behind the wrinkled, coarse, skin of the trunk
Covered by those
etching their mark
year after year;
Deep within
Runs the lymph of the Spirit -
It runs unseen, and it reaches far
From the ends of the roots
To the tips of the fruits,
And the Spirit is strong,
And the Spirit upholds me.

Within the palms of dusty hands, dirty nails, cracked skin,
Holding on, pounding hard, resilient;
Choosing to embrace a life of no choice
And living it like royalty, full dignity -
There shines the gold of the Spirit,
Refined by the test of fire.
And the Spirit is strong,
And the Spirit is free.

Above the mushroom-head clouds of
Hiroshima, NYC, Bagdad;
Against the raging seas, upon the shaking Earth,
Immeasurable fear.
Above all that reigns the light of the Spirit,
And the Spirit is strong,
And the darkness will not overcome it.

I see it, I feel it,
The Spirit is one,
Found in unassuming people.
I salute them,
A glimpse of the divine, while we wait to reach Home.

Nkosi Sikelel'i Africa - Soweto 30 years on

this year is the 30th anniversary of the Soweto riots - an historic event I am just starting to learn about and that is still bearing such huge influence on South Africa and the world (since we are all sharing our one planet). BBC has some interesting articles and media clips - watch & contemplate

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/5080672.stm

Morning has broken

refreshing, revitalizing, tentalizing
and I am soaked
the wavelength check
has turned into a full immersion
skinny dipping
diamonds of lakedrops lingering on my lashes
as I float, belly to the sun
fish caressing the soles of my feet
and again
I am grateful
for life.

Malawi a Moto - Flames of Fire (a poem, 30 May 2006)

Our love was like a fire
Visible by all
In the enveloping darkness of the African night
Growing in size and power
As we threw more and more of ourselves in
Like sacrificial animals
Seeking to appease
Our own thirst
For acceptance and belonging
Blind
To the foolishness of our actions
Deaf
To the cries of those
Perceiving the flames take over the forest
Destroying trees, plants and birds’ nests
But their cries did
Reach the sky
An the rain fell
Apocalyptic and torrential
Thunder and lightning struck
Brutally the fire was extinguished
Mercifully we were saved
So that I can now rise
From underneath the ashes
Singing a new song
A breeze has chased away the clouds
And in time
The soil of my heart
Will be fertile again.

LESS IS MORE

I read an article recently that presented a book called "Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping" by Judith Levine (http://www.judithlevine.com) - a very powerful, very exciting idea. Through the article I found out about the international "Buy Nothing Day" movement which is definitely something I am going to support as a way of raising awareness of just how much consumerism is an obstacle to freedom. Before I go any further I need to state that I am NOT glorifying poverty and advocating that we should all give up our comforts and go back 2000 years - no. But I just cringe and something rises up within me when I hear stories of queues outside Harrods the night before the sales, of people violently fighting over those limited edition fashion items, and kids just wanting to go to London to spend the day at Hamley's! It is WRONG I say - wrong! I have found freedom in experiencing a simpler way of life in Malawi, with less stuff, more time, more open space, and fewer layers of labels, barriers of Ipods, Blackberry distractions to get in the way of life. It has been increasingly hard to maintain that simplicity in this Land of Plenty, but to me it's something like healty eating and excercise, hard to stick to the routine, but you feel so much better for it. I have been asking myself how long could I go without buying anything other than food and medicine (like Judith levine did for a year) and how would my life be impacted? Especially my social life... If I get really serious about this I might put myself to the test one of these days....

Natura Docet - Nature Teaches

For the last couple of weeks I have had a concept in my head that I've been meaning to express in poetry but am still churning it somewhere up there, and am a little bit stuck with translating it into words. Basically I have been thinking about the difference between Change ("the act, process or result of altering or modifying/the replacing of one thing for another, substitution/a transformation or transition from one state, condition or phase to another" synonyms: alteration, mutation, distortion, remodeling, diversification) and Growth ("the process of growing/full development, maturity/development from a lower or simpler to a higher or more complex form, evolution" synonyms: advancement, improvement, enrichment, furtherance, progress). I guess what I am striving for is the idea that Growth is a progression of wholesome fruitful continuous and inside-out births of things new coming from the falling and absorbing into fertile ground of things old, a process where what is behind is not just archived or covered up with something new, but it is acknowledged and used to improve what is ahead. I thought about butterflies and the fascinating way in which they grow from caterpillars. It's a process, not a change of mask. As for me, I want to grow, my soul and mind in tune with my ever increasing grey hair! May I keep off superficial change, new facades, big words and layers of "newness" to cover up a broken core of the old me. The truth is ALWAYS better than a pretty lie.

Still (a poem - 30 April 2006)

affected by reverse colonization disorder
another blow to my identity
my heart seeks refuge from the unease of a malaise
that's being in my own skin
a journey that's brought me
to a stationary position
where I stop playing hide & seek
from feeling justified through what I do
or feeling secured by who I am with
Now I am grown I need to know
when I am stripped of all the layers
activity
affection
appearance
affluence
I want what is left to be me
standing on a Rock
fully satisfied to know that I am
created, loved, redeemed, accompanied
forever
by the One who is eternal, faithful and loving
the One who calls me His daughter and His friend.

Patsy's Trilogy completed

I made these two in Portugal, thought they might go well with the mango on Patsy's kitchen wall. Am not so keen on the old tomatoes, but as part of a trilogy I think they are not too bad (if anything make the other two look better!?!?!)

Life in London - Tales from Britannia

Had food poisoning yesterday – turned out to make for a theatrical experience providing much “food for thought” (the pun almost making me feel ill as I am still in the can’t-even-think-of-eating-a-thing zone). First off: Marks & Spencer in Moorgate. It is HUGE. And in the lunch hour it is CRAZY. City workers, gotta love them. We’re like animals in a circus, power dressed, Blackberry-addicted, bamboozled by an excessive variety of lunch options, caught into the trap of “buy 2 for £5”. But not me, oh no, I was on a mission, me… buying cakes and sweets for Will’s birthday in the office, and the obligatory cheesy card. Joys of the corporate family life, team work and all that, and PAs play mums (always had a motherly instinct, I have!). Anyway ended up grabbing a nicoise salad to eat for lunch, which turned out to be the root of all evil in my food poisoning tale.
Three hours later, starting to turn green and shiver and head spinning like a Frisbee, I decide something was definitely wrong and left the 18th floor office with no fresh air. By then the idea of getting into a tunnel full of people elbowing me for some space on the train and me holding two safety recycled supermarket (sick) bags was not my idea of fun (or love for my fellow passengers in fact!) so I decided to be a posh ill woman and take a black cab. I have to say the highlight of the journey was passing the Royal Parks: Green Park, Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens. As I write this I am actually starting to wonder whether the driver took me for the scenic route? Well- is £35 a fair fare from Bank to W6? I’ll never know. He was absolutely not bothered that I was being sick in my faithfully recycled bags, undoubtedly he has seen worse. He even lit up a cigarette! Anyway royal parks are GOOD and I can’t wait for some sunshine to go and chill out with the rest of the circus animals on any square meter of nature in sight! Although the Metro (which I have avoided reading since my return to London as I think a free newspaper cannot be that much of a quality read, can it? And I am careful what goes into my brain) has apparently warned Londoners to abandon all hope for sunshine in May as we ain’t getting any! Anyway… I hope for a sunny bank holiday weekend. Angelique Kidjo is in concert in Blantyre, Malawi on Monday, and I just wish I were there! Will just keep listening to the MP3 instead!

I love the Truth, I know it when I hear it, like the deep sound of the drum between the goat skin top and the wooden cone it resounds somewhere inside my ribcage. Only that the Truth is hidden, and I am not always purposeful in looking for it until I smash my pretty little head against a concrete wall, and find myself in desperate need for the Healing Truth, the Comforting Truth: "Do not put your trust in princes, in mortal men, who cannot save." (Psalm 146:3) "But the LORD is the true God; he is the living God, the eternal King." (Jeremiah 10:10). Therein lies the Truth: Prince Charming is not the Eternal King, immediate gratification is no substitute for long term satisfaction and quick fixes don't make wrongs right. Oh - if only Truth came in a jar, one little candy drop a day, one carefully applied layer of hope in the morning. It takes a little more engagement than that – but it’s worth it, because I am worth it!

Mmmm... mango (Study for Patsy's original art 11 April 06)

am really disappointed to have lost a poem I wrote in 2003 in preparation for going to taste the real mangoes of Malawi - it would have gone really well alongside this study for a piece of ART I want to give to Patsy for her kitchen... mmmm.... mango..... x

Portrait (Intense Watercolour - 9 April 06)

“Whatever the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve.”

I attended a v cool drawing course last Sat and am still feeling the buzz from it - I loved it! I loved drawing! I want to do so much more of it. It was at my church and it reminded me of a programme I was watching recently on the BBC called "Around the World in 80 Treasures" showing things like huge temples carved out of a mountain in places like Ethiopia and the Middle East, the Piramides and I just think WOW. I mean, someone must have thought about it, imagined it and planned it before starting to set the foundations down - they believed that it could be done, without really any tangible evidence or precedent or the high tech means available to us today! I want to have such a visionary mind and enduring character! Lately I have been reminded of how creative we have been made to be - I guess our "off the shelf" consumer culture has in certain ways brought us to think that you just unwrap, microwave and consume, or buy a CD, put it in a box and listen (which is great by the way) but how about creating a new song?! or using whatever is around as an instrument... When I grow up I want to be an "artiste" - well, I turn 30 on Saturday, perhaps that time has come!

The African Child and I are one (short poem March 2006)

Under your rainbow I stand
Thanks to your rainbow I am
Faced with your rainbow I know
the glory of the living God
In your rainbow of life
the African child and I are one.

Beware of the Monster (a poem on the Milan underground with its screens incessantly vomiting out all sorts of soul intrusive rubbish - 2005)

Withdrawal is not an option
When the weapon is pointed
Right to your core
When the masses seem unaware
You beware!
The monster is talking to your brain
From the surround sound speakers
With matching visuals
In the underground station.
Showing you its golden lies
Its false beliefs
Scorpio Libra Sagittarius
Kitten heels, pointy shoes
Popes, presidents and football gods.
All eyes pointed
All ears open
Do they know what they’re letting in?
Blind, brains switched off
How can I rise up and tell them
They should beware
The end is near
Only the truth will stand.

Night time Poem (a poem - 2005)

Last night is behind
us
victims of our own suffering.
An arsenal of immaterial weapons
Fears, words,
The inevitable influence
Of another person’s pain
When two are one.

Tonight my love
I am grateful we’ve overcome,
A weight lifted off my soul,
I thank you
That you give me a thousand and one chances
To discover
Myself
And life
And the depth in you of patience and understanding.

My love
tonight
My eyes can see the stars
Shining faithfully
All across the black sky.
I miss you, that’s the truth,
And I am lost.

In my mind,
I open the palm of my right hand
And offer you a lullaby
The shape of a tiny pot of flowers
To put by your bed side,
To look at
And think of the One
Who created them,
To find comfort
From the imperfection
Of us on Earth.

Getaway (a poem - about August 2004)

Two days
A bridge
From yesterday to eternity
This getaway
Is a gateway
Into you
Like rowing out to sea
Abandoning myself
To the motion of the waves.

Where you are
The sun always shines
The feeling of your soft skin against mine
Surpasses the sense of touch
Travels down my spine
Past my heart mind and soul
A kaleidoscope of love
Evolving patterns
Each day a new colour
Added to the palette.

How can I
Say goodbye
And get away
From the home
The nest
The womb within your arms?
I pray for guidance
And I know
The angels will sing me songs of truth
As I walk
My road with you.

"La Lune" (a poem - 2005?)

watch and contemplate.
ne confonds pas
le doigt qui te montre la lune
et la lune.
I’ve got to contemplate some more
this truth takes time and meditation.
the moon
shines brightest
when the night is
dark.

if a finger pointing
to the moon
is just the same as any other finger
would be
were it pointing
to the same moon
where does
the soul behind that finger,
the heart inside that man,
stand?

In my dream
I kept seeing
the moon
reflected inside one man's eyes.
the eyes were deep, warm and captivating
I had no desire
whatsoever
to turn my sight away
and twist my neck
to the moon instead
to watch and contemplate
its marble whiteness
in the distant sky

then a star fell from on high
and whispered gently in my ear
"it's quite simple, my dear,
Mother Nature gives and takes
that man one day will close his eyes
or look away
but you need not think
that the moon
has gone with him.
fix the mind of your heart
on the highest high
and know the truth.
the moon lives in the sky
and it will shine again
for centuries to come
through someone else's eyes.
its spell will never end
till the last day comes
when all that will be left
will be
love
in its purest form.