Wondering about the ripple effect…

Please forgive me for I do not normally enter the murky waters of the global political arena but this week has made me shudder to the core and I wonder if we can ever truly know the impact of these ripples across our world and I think that the words of Marcus Aurelius are important, sometimes these ripples can go beyond these moments of existence in which we find ourselves and impact forever on those future generations that have not yet even been born. I wonder when and how power is somehow more important than commons sense and responsibility.

The word rhetoric is bandied about across the airwaves by high stakes/high impact global media but the word rhetoric means something akin to- the art of effective or persuasive speaking or writing, and implies use of persuasive speaking and writing techniques. I hardly think that verbal spats via twitter can be classed as rhetoric when the persuasion comes from the immediacy and availability rather than the subtle and persuasive use of the actual spoken word. The words I have heard seem to be verging on aggression and antagonism and have been blunt and course. Perhaps this is a new form of rhetoric.

What happened to accountability and responsibility here?  Are our global futures to be suspended in the wake of the ripples of power hungry egotistical leaders with no care for the long term global impact of the fall-out from this folly?

©Alison Jean Hankinson

The image is my own. It is Te Matau a Pohe bridge in Whangarei. Perhaps we are at a bridge. Fancy a game of Pooh sticks…see who wins?

Beyond the shadows.

Maternal misgivings

Miscarriage numbs

Shades of silence separate us

Sorrow prevails

Suspended in shadows

 

Marriage meltdown

In grief defeated.

Barren and bewildered

Love lies

Dormant in the dust.

 

Test-tube babies

Twin harbingers of joy

Anchored in re-kindled love

Sunshine streams through

The clouds

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse where we were asked to use the word “shade”.

 

 

Looking beyond the madness…..

This view gave me solace

This view gave me gladness

This view gave me the power to heal

I have needed this window and this view

At a time in my life where I have been devalued

Worth less every day and every step of the way

This sunset, this seascape, these mountains gave back

Worth less every day and every step of the way

At a time in my life where I have been devalued

I have needed this window and this view

This view gave me the power to heal

This view gave me gladness

This view gave me solace

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse poetics. Our theme was to take a picture from a window…

 

 

Missing Ellen

For a moment my resolve waivers

I am on a precipice being plunged into darkness

By the weight of losing you.

Dull ache and yearning for your return.

Was I a good parent?

Should I have done more?

A flicker of doubt devours me.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse. Happy sixth birthday. It is Quadrille night and the word we were given was flicker. Ellen is my eldest twin daughter and we left her behind in NZ- very remiss of us. XXX

Game Over.

Worthlessness wins

Nauseating numbness

Dreams diminish and die

Silent sorrows surface

Regret rising like a rancid tide.

 

Regret rising like a rancid tide

Silent sorrows surface

Dreams diminish and die

Nauseating numbness

Worthlessness wins.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

A palindrome poem. This was my first attempt at a Palindrome poem the other week. I was at a low ebb, things had been a little complicated. I thought I would submit it for the open link night at d’Verse.

 

Tears of summer

It should have been a whimsical day. Instead, I have existed somewhere between morose and forlorn. The summer seems to have vanished and with it all sense of joy and certainty only to be replaced by some strange uneasy restlessness, not quite admitting defeat but eager to have some steerage and surety about where my next steps will lead me.

It has been a weekend of waves and high tides, unsettling and I have been unable to make the most of getting down to the sea. Today it became a necessity, to track the well-worn paths through the grass, camera in hand with the hope of catching a gull in flight or a breath-taking landscape to restore some semblance of order into my world.

Tide high Seagulls fly
Raindrops splatter Terns shelter
Summer deserts us

 

This is for Haibun Monday at d’Verse, where were asked to think about summer.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

 

Lai Lines

Angst and angry throes

And Midsummer Woes

June blue

Sadness overflows

Dark Depression shows

Blue you

When Nobody knows

Just how raw it blows

Breakthrough.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

Still playing around with the lai concept for d’Verse...whilst watching the early votes come in……

Stunned silence

The deafening silence of tragedy

the sound of pain beyond human comprehension

Stunned into silence a soundless

pause perhaps if we remain completely silent

maybe we won’t be noticed and it won’t be real.

Shrill sounds reveal that it is scarily real after all.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

 

This is for d’Verse quadrille.

In 2005 I was in London with a group of school students when there was the second bombing, my students who were young and had never experienced anything like that before just wanted to get on their coach and go home immediately which just wasn’t possible, we left the following morning and the bus was eerily silent and remained so until we got beyond Birmingham. Silence is deafening in tragic circumstances. My heart and love to all to all who were touched by the Manchester bombing.

Re-integration

We are treated as vagrants

worthless souls with no right to belong

It feels like someone is playing with our lives

having a giggle at our expense

One step forward ten steps back

and even though we were born here there is no recompense.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for Monday Quadrille at d’Verse

d’Verse quadrille

What am I?

 

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I am the face of hope,

In the fast fading light.

 

I am the distant dream

Driving forwards, when the day draws to a close,

The Star-bright shining in a suburban sultry night.

 

I am the laughter and the tears, the fear and guilt and pain,

Felt by all the mothers before me, the broken and the humbled, the joyous and loving,

I am the seed, the seedling, the roots, trunk and branches.

I bear the fruit. I am the womb of time.

 

I am me, fifty and finally come of age, woman.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

 

It is open link night #190 at d’Verse and so we are encouraged to submit anything we choose, this was part of something I wrote a while back, and I guess it is what I need to believe at the moment. Returning and coming home has been nothing short of gruelling, nothing has been simple at all. It has been a little like hurling yourself from a small cliff into a ferocious and stormy ocean. I have to know deep down that it will come right and that the storm will pass. To do this I have to peel back the layers and remind myself of what I believe I am and then slowly start to pick myself up again.

The image is Ellen and the tree- the second version…and my children are very much a symbol of what I am.