Black Lives Matter Vigil

June 10 2020

Fun was cancelled thanks to The Virus. It was the year of disappointment. Gigs, festivals and fun would simply have to wait. 

I rode my bike through the High Street towards my boyfriend. The town was mostly full of young protesters, they seemed spirited and with their banners and masks. We poured into the square trying to keep in our germ free bubbles and most people succeeded to a small degree. The speakers were quiet so the crowd repeated what they said by chanting. 

People from the BAME community spoke about their issues, there were lots of shocking statistics about how BAME people are treated by the police. Community leaders from Respect spoke movingly, making us remember that we don't live in a fair society but a reminder people are working extremely hard to change this. 

We all knelt down in honor of George Floyd, it was a somber and moving tribute.  

The atmosphere was charged and serious, partly because of the pictures we had all seen of the way black people have been treated by the American police and partly because of Corona virus. There wasn't the usual background noise of a busy Saturday so our attention was on the speakers and we were out in the pandemic. The masks made a difference too, people couldn't tell if each other were smiling, this made for a slightly strained atmosphere. Rain and cold on a summer afternoon added to the determined feel to the vigil.

Exeter caught the spirit of righteous anger. The year before radicals and people who wanted a better world had fun events as a form of protest and spreading the word, we had Respect festival, a sober but fun day of dancing, choirs, live music and stalls. We had Gay Pride, as day of parade, fun, self expression and drinking with the cause of accepting and understanding everyone. These events are great but this Black Lives Matter Exeter event felt important.

 2020 feels like the year of the disaster with empty streets all over the world and then pictures from America that look like civil war. The world seems a frightening and darker place thanks to shock after shock. Maybe the conditions for big changes are here now, it's up to us if the world gets better or worse.

Recovery

She sat alone, her six-year old hands touched the warm tarmac, they felt the tiny stones, she looked up at the scattered white clouds and bright blue in between, she heard the other children and this is all she needed. She could feel every bump of the tarmac, she could enjoy every shape of the clouds.The colours and materials all around gave her a joy that the other girls and boys gained from running around, gossiping and praise from teachers.

The other girls tried to be kind, when they got no response they tried to be mean but neither would make her speak: the girl knew exactly what the others were saying it’s just the rest of the world was more interesting. Sometimes the girl would listen to the kids playing but she never thought to join them, the chatter was too much. The girl was delighted when the others gave up and left her to enjoy the world.

A sharp, piercing noise broke through her perfection, it was the bell:  her stomach churned at the thought of another human’s words, rattling chairs and being made to talk. The teacher let the girl sit at the back of the class with a kindly assistant who tried to help. She would speak in soft, sing song tones but the girl would be too busy staring at a perfect shade of green on a painting. Eye contact meant nothing, cuddles bought screams, and words were frightening.

At the end of the school her mum walked over to the painted square her daughter always stood in. The paint was fading like The Plague. The other kids happily burst out of their germ free bubbles but her daughter seemed to stay.

Mum dodged the stares and pitying smiles from the other parents. Again her daughter refused to hold her mum's hand. She remembered her daughter as a baby, she was born with symptoms  everyone feared this big-eyed infant and no one would touch her. The day her daughter stopped crying was the day her mum couldn’t stop weeping, mum realized her daughter was now a victim of The Plague forever.

Supernatural

The first time we held hands
In that Hipster cafe
It was supernatural
Magick passed between us
A spell was made
Two lives were changed.

The people on that cafe knew
Something big happened
Holding hands felt indecent
Did the lights fuse?
Was there a magick strange blue light?
Did cups and saucers fly around the room?

The magick just got stronger
As we lay in bed
On ordinary afternoons.
As we spilled more secrets
Something in our souls became clean
life became more.

We saw the beautiful
in each other,
In everything, our minds our bodies
A magick blue light continued
Beautiful chaos was all around
And we could feel the universe spinning.

We could see the colours of the world
So you remember the beach
We became one
With the nature, sand
And the sea
Magick made real.

Life pulled us apart
By forces we could never predict
Now the magick becomes more
I can conjure up spells
In my mind
I see your face again.

Shopping in the time of Coronavirus

The bright blue sky had stayed for weeks. We got to the supermarket, my son’s skateboard by his side. There was a modern winding path to the carpark, me son asked,

“Should I skate”

Usually he wouldn’t ask and just jump on his board the world was different now.

“Sorry”

He nodded, sad that his world was a little less of a playground.

The first summer dresses were out, the sunglasses were out and men wore shorts. This should have been a joyful Spring day.The only things that looked out of place were gloves, masks and a line of super ordered, obedient people lined up outside.

The people were stood on crosses marked out with tape on the ground, they were at the new super polite distance of 2 meters apart. Occasionally a few people were allowed in and people would shuffle forward. Most people were alone but some were out in their “family groups”. There was no gossip, there were distant smiles but no conversation, this was the new shopping order

We did the distance shuffle and wound our way around the carpark.

Not long ago sometimes I went shopping with my boyfriend, we’d giggle our way around the supermarket, cracking jokes and being loud, treating ourselves to way too much chocolate.Sometimes if my boyfriend knew if I was single mum poor he’d give me some cash and sometimes he’d cook curry and we’d banter over if we should play Punk or Rap, we’d talk over dinner and I’d complain about life. Now liquid relationships were on hold, everything had to be defined, love was either long distance, or you were locked down together. Part of me knew this was to protect us all the other part was furious and frightened at governments interference in our personal lives.

The distance dance continued in the shop. Tape defined  the space between up between humans. Some people made light of the distended dance and dodged around comically, others took the dance deadly seriously, they gave defensive looks protecting their safe, germ free bubble.

We looked around. the half empty shelves. Some baked beans were back, I was delighted at this small bonus. Cheap honey was out,a normal sized normal priced bottle of cooking oil was out so I bought a huge bottle. We had never seen shortages, before the virus we were spoilt children who’d complain if a supermarket didn’t have the right flavour cake, now we had to take what we could get.

We dragged or thought through shopping to the till. The young cashier is hidden behind a thick, clear, plastic screen. My son went to help me pack and an employee told him to stay clear. I pass heavy items to put in his college bag.

We leave, as we walk out the world looks sunny and all in order  A petty trip to the shops just showed how much a tiny virus could change the petty, domestic details of our lives.

The New Normal.

The sky had been a delicate blue for weeks, the bird song was louder than the cars and a happy family played in the gardens behind the flats. The world looked like a cleaner version than the last. That was until you ventured further than your garden, and then everything got strange. The gaudy screen at the bus stop no longer flashed up tempting beaches advertising holiday deals, they no longer showed a lovely figure in tight fitting jeans they showed state sanctioned PSAs.

“Save lives, stay inside”. Along with a picture of someone in protective clothing.

If you dared get on a bus, you would be the only one, or if there was someone else one would sit at the front, the other at the back. You never gave cash but waved your cash card over the machine until it beeped. There were few other cars on the road.

In town a few shops were open. Only a few people were allowed in at the same time, and there was a new dance, one where everyone stays away. Some people would have gloves, some had scarves around their mouths, others wore masks.

The clothes shops were closed, some had stacked up furniture and no clothes in them. This was prof vanity and endless consumption were meaningless now, we had to make do with our out of fashion but over filled wardrobes. Every trendy haircut was turning into a mess or a buzz cut, identity from the outside was becoming less important than not catching the tiny virus that was. changing the world.

Hatefield Quarintine

Murdering minutes,
and slashing seconds ,
in the only life we have,
the only life we'll ever get.

And you,
a mate in wasting oxygen,
killing ourselves
in abstract.

Milliseconds are shattered
as seconds tick by
a day on repeat
as Twilight comes.

We are killers
who won't need a shovel
to bury the evidence
We kill each other, in a cowardly way.

The Queen

Lauren watched flowers snake their way through the stubborn, red mud and flower in seconds, she was hypnotised. The furrows flatted themselves and a carpet of bright green appeared. The sun became summer holiday warm on Lauren’s back, everything had become perfect. The vibration that wanted to be a buzz came back, it was the only thing in this quick utopia that annoyed Lauren.

 One of the girls showed Lauren her face in the mirror.

“Oh my god, I’m stunning”.

Lauren’s face transformed from a slightly spotty, round face, to a beauty, she studied her new glowing skin and high cheekbones, she looked like her perfect selfie.

“Later, we will crown you.”

The  group chanted in perfect, blank unison.

“I’m fine just here, you’re all very entertaining.”

“We’re all happy that you’re happy dear Queen.”

Lauren couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted to look at her new face, her willing subjects or the strange landscape that appeared in front of her.

“We are happy at our new, beautiful Queen.”

“Thanks, you lot.”

Giggled Lauren.

“The Queen is happy, that means we are happy.”

Lauren felt the unseasonal sun on her back, she looked around a once bleak, British field and forgot the who situation was ridiculous. Lauren forgot there was a post Christmas takeaway on the table, she also forgot her little brother and sister were missing  and her older sister was worried and mum now deeply regretted letting Lauren go for a walk by herself. Lauren was in her own utopia and nothing else mattered.

The subjects  carried on with their strange, spiritual mosh pit. Lauren eventually became slightly bored of her new face and made daisy chains while laughing at her subjects spinning around enjoying Summer in December.