Mabh Savage's Blog: A Celtic Witch, page 13

NaPoWriMo Day 7: Where the Rain is Made of Iron

Following the prompt for Day 7 from the NaPoWriMo site, sort of, as this poem is inspired by this news headline.

Where the rain is made of iron

And the sun is made of clay

See the flowers made of music

Fill the lava of the bay

 

There’s a mountain made of moleskine

Notebooks piled in stacks so high

The bottoms ones compressed and crushed

To coal made out of sky.

 

There’s a moon the size of Venus

Floating gently in the seas

While the fish of fur and feathers

Drift serenely on the breeze

 

The skies are always clear, they say

And hot enough to melt

The diamonds in the fox’s eyes;

The shoehorns on their belt.

 

Where the rain is made of iron

And the earth is soft like cloud

Dream yourself a kind endeavour

Because here, anything’s allowed.

NaPoWriMo Day 6: Date Night

He came down the stairs

In jeans and a smart t-shirt

I’d almost forgotten

What outdoor clothes looked like

Didn’t we live in

Comfies now?

Loungewear and PJs?

“Date night!” he exclaims!

And I clap in delight.

Such a thing, to be treated like this

To be given thought and attention

To be dressed up for

With nowhere to go.

So I snuck upstairs

And shucked my shameful shorts and vest

And found the stretchy dress

Forgiving to my figure

Of which I’m not ashamed,

Not at all,

But I knew the look I was going for

And I dug out my favourite earrings

And I tucked my protesting hair back

Into a half-up, half-down

Fae-like do

And sauntered back downstairs

Hovering in the doorway

Until noticed.

“Isn’t mummy pretty?”

He says to the star-eyed toddler

She’s more interested in the bricks

And that’s okay.

Date night never really happened.

All dressed up, and somewhere to stay

But the toddler got cranky and then poorly

So, the carefully crafted culinary treats

Dried out in the oven

And the stretchy dress

Helped in dashing up and down the stairs

The mountain climb of hope and healing

For our wee baby.

NaPoWriMo Day 5: Piss-Taking Weather

When, in Britain, has it ever

Been so balmy

Calm in March and April?

Warm sun, some wind but nothing really too

Forceful,

Smatterings of rain but hardly

April showers.

No deluge

No late frosts

I’d happily plant my summer bulbs out

If I didn’t think this weather

Was taking the fucking piss.

I mean, seriously,

Am I meant to believe

That it’s a coincidence?

That we’re all stuck inside and limited

To yards and gardens

Flagstones and patios

Balconies and Juliets

Or simply a window;

And it does this?

This blazing springtime glory?

Or maybe,

I have it all wrong,

And actually, we’re giving the land

A much-needed break,

Fewer cars, fewer fumes, less industry…

Could that mean milder weather?

Clearer skies?

Calmer storms?

Scientist, feel free to debunk,

Because to me, it’s just as likely

That this springtime verdant glory

Is simply a divine piss-take

At our expense.

And we deserve it.

NaPoWriMo Day 4: Tough Like Old Leather

[image error]

I told a friend

“Today was tough

Tough as old boots

Tough like old leather

Tough like the steak

I sent back

And worried about the chef spitting on

Tough like the conversation

I had to have

With a toxic person

Another toxic person

Gone now

Tough like the song

I can’t remember the words to

Who wrote it?

I just.. It’s on the tip of my…

Tough like the times

I didn’t know

If they would let me go home

Or keep me in hospital

Tough like ripping phones books

Finding Wally

Getting to bed before midnight

With three kids in the house

And working two jobs

And no government help

And no help

Just each other to weather

The storm

Tough like old leather”

I said. But I smiled

As I said it

Because at least

We have each other.

NaPoWriMo Day 3: Isolation Haiku

Open the window

Taste sky, smell laughter, eat hope;

Breath in the bird song.

In the Garden

Just a few of the things in my garden right now.

[image error]Flowering currant with ladybird



[image error]Dandelion



[image error]Rosemary



[image error]Lovage



[image error]Rhododendron blossom



[image error]Moroccan mint



[image error]Dwarf curry plant

NaPoWriMo Day 2: Something Changed

[image error]

A witch of the wind I’ve always been

Smelling out the change in seasons

Through the breaths between the words

The inhale before each breeze

Which leaves a blossom scented stillness

Or in autumn, the petrichor of rotting leaves and rain

Or in winter, the crisp promise of snow

But now, on April’s second noon

The honey-flicked bee buzz wing of blue sky

Smells of hope.

 

Image via Wikimedia Commons,, Common Eastern Bumble Bee (Bombus Impatiens) by Ryan Hodnett, 2018. 

NaPoWriMo Day 1: The Fallen

I cried last night

I guess I already told you

But it’s rare for me

Despite chronic depression

A range of anxieties

Suspected other conditions

Where diagnosis only failed through

Lack of time and effort

So I feel sad, a lot

But I rarely cry

I howl in frustration

Gnashing at the moon

Grinding teeth in rage

At patriarchal nonsense

Tears spitting venom at

Anti-vaxxers

Cat-callers

Ableist cockwombles

Racist shitbags

Homophobic grease stains

Transphobic hypocrites

But I rarely cry

In sorrow.

Last night, I did;

I cried, I sobbed, I pulled myself into a foetal position and

Hacked out raw, ragged breaths

Just for a while

Just for everything

Just to breathe in the pain.

Help is Not on the Horizon

It was my birthday yesterday. I ended the day by having a big cry. I was a bit in my cups, to be fair, but this morning I sat and analysed why I was feeling so low.

It’s not the isolation. I can cope with that. It’s not spending a birthday in the house with less stuff than usual- that’s quite normal and we had a lovely day. Homemade cards, good food, and even a bottle of gin that the hubby had stashed away at some point.

It’s the sense of abandonment by the government. I found out that even though I am self-employed, because I only became self-employed in March of last year, I don’t qualify for any financial support. There is nothing to help the thousands of freelancers and sole traders who, like me, took a chance or an opportunity to turn their passion into a business. If I’d decided to take that step a year earlier, I would be looking forward to some financial aid in June to make up for all the many, many lost clients who can’t stay open during this crisis or who have had to cut costs dramatically.

I called the official government helpline for businesses (if you need it, it’s 0300 456 3565) and was told: “To be brutally honest, you won’t get any support.” Wow.

I’ve applied for universal credit. Fingers crossed. In the meantime, if you know anyone who needs some high-quality content writing for their business, I’m ready and waiting!

Home Schooling Hope

Today wasn’t quite as I expected it to be. I thought we’d all get up early, get breakfast, burn some calories with Joe Wicks then settle down to some Purple Mash or fractions and be done by early afternoon.

Instead, everyone slept in. However, as everyone was surprisingly good at bedtime the night before, the promised incentive of pancakes was delivered, making for a long and leisurely brunch. The sun came out so we sacked YouTube off and ran around in the garden. One boy sulked because he was convinced the other boy was “cheating” at doing laps. The other boy did five extra laps, making it a moot point.

By this point it was nearly lunch time, so one did Purple Mash which wouldn’t work and kept saying he hadn’t done stuff, while the other did some fractions work that seemed akin to quantum mechanics.

Post-sandwich, one boy needed to practice piano, but was so exhausted by this point that everything was a struggle. Cue lots of hugs and affirmations. After this we sacked everything off and had spag bol and garlic bread.

They definitely didn’t get as much done as they would have done at school, but both of us big folks are working too, and the smallest person was being entertained amongst all of this, so I’m pretty proud of everyone and pretty hopeful. If every day goes “wrong” in the way today has, I think we’ll all be okay. Phew!