“how come we were never taught this in our schools?”

The oppressors never teach their children
About the oppressed, or their suffering.
Instead they claim that they brought technology,
Civilization, religion, as gifts
To the colonized, the marginalized,
The brutalized and the enslaved people.
You have to learn to look between the lines
At the imperfect feet of the statues,
And the nakedness of half-truths and lies.
Stolen land, stolen lives, streams of language
Dammed, diverted, stopped. Whole cultures broken
Into scattered fragments, gathering dust
In museums. Hiding between the cracks,
Waiting to emerge into the sunlight.

Yvonne Aburrow
9:22 am, 23 May 2022.


Inspired by the line “how come we were never taught this in our schools?” in WHEREAS by Layli Long Soldier

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The singing will never be done

Once, you could hear
Sheep munching grass
Half a mile away.

Now the soundscape
Is full of mechanical sounds:
Auditory assault.

We have lost the music of the world:
Birdsong, animal sounds
The wind in the trees.

Birds have to sing louder
To be heard over the sound of cars.
Whale song is interrupted by ships.

The singing will never be done,
But no one can hear it when
we have lost the music of the world.

Yvonne Aburrow
8:19 am, 2 May 2022

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Nonetheless

None of the poems I read today
Spoke into the depths
Nor raised an answering echo.
Petrarch, Chaucer, Donne,
Whispering their plaints into the soft air
Fell to earth, drifting ash.
Nonetheless I wrote this,
To record the ensuing silence.


Yvonne Aburrow
27 April 2022

The uncomplaining stars

The low cosmic hum
Of all the stars
singing the worlds into being.
Who can know the thoughts of a star,
Or how they compose
The music of the spheres?
What faults might stars commit
That they fall to earth
A bolt from the infinite,
Becoming finite, massy?
If they look upon the pale blue dot
And hear the tumult,
Do they not complain
Of the marring of their music?
Or is the discordant theme
Woven into the greater music?

Yvonne Aburrow, 8:00 am, 26 April 2022

Inspired by the line “The uncomplaining stars composed their lucid song” in Voltaire at Ferney by W H Auden (1939). With a nod to the retired stars Ramandu and Coriakin in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C S Lewis, and the music of the Ainur in JRR Tolkien’s The Silmarillion. And of course, a nod to Carl Sagan’s awesome meditation, The Pale Blue Dot, which was inspired by this photograph.

Ramandu, by Pauline Baynes

The line of prayer

Roots pushing down
Into the dark earth
To find the mother.

A tendril of incense smoke
Seeking the stars.

Sparks from the fire
Riding the currents of air,
Winking out in the night.

Water threading its way
Through caves
Ready to be reborn
Into the light.

Love finding its way
Through the cracks
In the pavement.

A hand extended
To caress or bless.
Reaching for the sun.

The heart’s rhythms
Exploring the depths
Of the underworld.

A thread of gold
Snaking through the clouds
Of the unknown.

Inspired by the phrase “the line of prayer” in Some feel rain by Joanna Klink

I am the Earth

If you hold a shell up to your ear
Then you can hear
The oceans in your blood.

If you stand or sit or lie
Then you can feel
The earth’s crust in your bones.

If you focus on your breath,
Then you can sense
The air that gives us life.

If you touch your belly’s curve
Then you caress
The fire that lives within.

If you know that these are sacred
Then your body knows
You are the Earth and the Earth is you.

Without the oceans, trees,
And birds and bees,
There is no Earth, there is no me.

The Earth is sacred,
The Earth gives us life
There is no planet B.

Yvonne Aburrow
7:20 am, 22 April 2022 (Earth Day)

Inspired by the phrase “I am the Earth and the Earth is me” in Earth Day by JANE YOLEN.

mad and moonly

Wind rattles the pines
Playing an obscure game
Known only to itself.

A child fighting an imaginary
Opponent with an invisible sword.
A moon orbiting a dark planet.

Now the child dances
Between falling snow
Counting the clouds.

Lovers dance with an image
Of the beloved, each moving
To a different tune.

But when we see each other
By moonlight, under the stars,
We see truly.

Yvonne Aburrow
7:24pm, 19 April 2022


Inspired by the phrase “mad and moonly” in [love is more thicker than forget] by E. E. CUMMINGS

That different fulcrum

What is the fulcrum of your life?
Do you keep it in that drawer of odds and ends
Near the sink? Or the basket of mismatched wool and thread
That sits neglected under the bed?
Does that old key still have a matching lock?
What about the oddments sitting quiescent
In the basement, gathering dust?
Are any of these the key to your dreams?
The one lever that would make you turn
And view your life from a new angle,
Or lift the carpet that hides the stain on the floor?
What is that different fulcrum,
That would turn your face to look up at the stars
Or down at the flowers around your feet?

Yvonne Aburrow
9:34 pm, 18 April 2022


Inspired by the phrase “that different fulcrum” in Making Peace by DENISE LEVERTOV

Dear faces

In the candlelight,

faces and bodies are rosy, softly lit.

Love springs from gesture and sound.

The repetition of familiar words

So we know we’re on holy ground.

We walk together

into known and unknown

Steering our vessel

by the winds of the unseen

Sharing our journey within.

Yvonne Aburrow

10:15 am, 15 April 2022

(About the experience of a Wiccan circle)

Inspired by the sentence “Dear faces like a multitude of moons hang over the table” in The Seder’s Order by Marge Piercy.