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Saturday, 25 March 2017

Desires

Some Assembly


They move towards a new 
themselves, plugged
into a shining romantic 
grey-black surface, 
reflecting two 
skintight legs & there's 
a smoothly passing 
hiss of bulbous shadow and 
bright edge. They ache slightly 
to be at the forefront of a past,
of lights in a wet city that echoes
with a cold night satisfaction,
and they may get some faint
tremor of that kind, maybe, 
across a perimeter and through 
a forgetful burial in necessity
and information as they 
move towards a new themselves. 












Freedom

They're not sure if they want significant movement or 
space in which to quietly enjoy their own self, or
both, in fact, variously. It's nebulous, 
but in either case and both cases they need to
couple and uncouple and couple again,
whatever it is needs to be built and will
reach out as they say, to some sort of 
other thing. What is this scenario? They are 
a movement with a projected potential and a
light, pearly grey and unrecognised, 
within which they move, suggestive of something
that affects a quality of movement. 
This is something like what they want;
it seems both easy and almost 
impossibly difficult, this utter involvement
out to the farthest reaches of space and
all substance and time for that matter and 
back down to a sensation of a slightly greasy wall
against fingertips, along with a sense of 
unfolding differences affected by choices
without the interference of a fascist establishment. 








Glamour


In a cloud of light, a drift of smoke 
they see it, they see a projection through
shining winter hair and laughter, 
not hiding so much  as extending 
a sense of solidifying music in a
very major key. Everything's fine
and growing in the warm summer 
lucidity, a frozen bare-legged stride,
a pirouette, a warm sophistication. 
Just 20 quid and there it is again,
stretched across the dirty brickwork. 









Omniscience

Moving through, beside, shining hedge leaves radiating depths of vegetable bitterness
Indigenous Armed Group Formed in the Mountains of Guerrero
Thin yellow light strip between clouds & distant shallow hill, muted winter stripped lung line 
Dasein must in the first instance answer for itself
Reflective play across glass, through flashing light and dark and shining blur 
Last ditch talks over tube strike arranged 
Trailing gently over damp abrasive bricks alongside shallow wriggling tarmac reflections 
Dozens of inmates killed in Brazil prison riot
Heat, light and a rich black shadow burned into a road
These are the women who have the least to lose and the most to gain
Pans hang and collide gently, a unique music to a unique breath
I may not have meaning, but it is the same lack of meaning that the pulsing vein has



Sources of quotations:

Derrida, The Gift of Death
The Morning Star
The Guardian
Hannah Zufall, "Jin - Jiyan - Azadi: Women, Life, Freedom", Lens Culture https://www.lensculture.com/articles/sonja-hamad-jin-jiyan-azadi-women-life-freedom
Clarice Lispector, Agua Viva





Fried Chicken

Felt in the pit,
in a brightness sliced across a pavement, 
redness and scabby white and a dirty
pull they're lit by,
to sit in swaying thrall 
to blissfully full vacancy 





    Dancing

"... this oaf had acquired instant grace ..."


A machine for flying  deep
blue 
         through the sweat 
       and the aching calves

in a pathetic fallacy
    
                      from under 
       oppressive strings

smiling is good

                and they can feel the grain of a
cold morning 




Night 


Somewhere in the folds of their palms,
       beneath the skin they
       feel giddy depths of thrilling darkness,
complex, rotating crystals,  black fractals


splayed legged under yellow lights 

breathing cold smoke and fumes to private 
music, traffic, Doppler perfume,
muscular humming & fizzing against a

weight of atmosphere soaking into a throat 

open and greedy

spring-heeled





Immortality


An expansion and a relaxation though 
still they face the eradication of possibility but,

unhindered at first by a perception of crushing power 
always sitting on their sleeping chests and laughing 

through their seeming absence of significance, until 
they start to wave, even without bucking or fighting exactly,

weight increasing and pressure on the air pipe and
it's so easy for the others who are sitting on their 

sleeping chests, ignored largely, mostly, but now they 
have even noticed and the nuisance must be eradicated 

easily because it's not them just glancing but the sun is 
low and bleak in the mirror and a joy of beauty

is going to be snuffed out, an absolute shredded and binned,
except that a night six weeks ago there was a glance that 

is there and can't be removed, and other glances 
into the low sun and the fog of Spring. 





Validation 

A working at snaring a breathing, 
chaotic fragment to illuminate some
sense of sentient fire, to transmit across
a network of receptors a shivering, just feint, at 
the surface, theft in order, to order
for the sake of marginal shimmering out
over a vertical blue to a depth of some three
metres on a good, polished day. 

They skate with some grace along 
the bright rim but seeming imperceptible. 

There might be a multi-dimensional
solidity and liquid movements through
warm, breathable sunshine.
There might be fresh unfolding. 



Validation

A working at snaring a breathing, 
chaotic fragment to illuminate some
sense of sentient fire, to transmit across
a network of receptors a shivering, just feint, at 
the surface, theft in order, to order
for the sake of marginal shimmering out
over a vertical blue to a depth of some three
metres on a good, polished day. 

They skate with some grace along 
the bright rim but seeming imperceptible. 

There might be a multi-dimensional
solidity and liquid movements through
warm, breathable sunshine.
There might be fresh unfolding.

Wednesday, 15 March 2017

Corbyn Can't Go

I find it difficult to believe that Owen Jones is as naive as all that. 

His calls for Jeremy Corbyn to step down in order to be replaced by a younger, more dynamic, more media-savvy representative of the left, on essentially the same programme and with the same policies, might make a certain amount of sense in the abstract. 

Labour are trailing badly in the polls and the loss of Copeland bodes ill for Labour in any coming election. The media are misrepresenting Corbyn to an extent that is horrifying and profoundly anti-democratic, but he does appear, and politics is often about appearance, to find it very difficult to circumvent that and at times seems to play right into their hands. 

But: if not Corbyn, as Michael Rosen keeps patiently asking on Twitter, then who? At the present time and under current circumstances, who would be able to take on the role? 

This is not a question, though, of which candidate. I could put forward names who might fill the role and do so very well. 

The point is, and this is where Owen Jones’ seeming naivety comes in, under the current circumstances, they would never get on the ballot. 

This is why for Corbyn to go would be a massive betrayal of his mandate. Not necessarily because of him personally. There may be members of the Labour Party who voted very specifically for him as an individually, but there seems very little doubt that his mandate is based primarily on the fact that represents the Labour left. He represents the prospects for socialism, whatever you might think that means, in the UK at least. To me, that means the prospects for the empowerment of working class people; it means the democratisation of society; it means freedom from being ground down by need and the liberation of the creative potential, in whatever sphere, of millions; it means increased prospects for simple happiness for millions of people. It means things never even approached by the last, right-wing, Labour government because they were ideologically unwilling and even incapable of even considering them. They were unwilling to do so because these aspirations require challenging the establishment. The last Labour government were more interested in being the establishment, as are the current hard right of the Party.  

If Corbyn steps down, under the current situation, all that will be betrayed, lost, cast aside, abandoned for a generation or more - because a left candidate will not get on the ballot. Possibly ever. 

The right of the Party remain in control of many of the levers of power and they remain implacably opposed to the left, thoroughly wedded to capitalism and the establishment and determined to resist any fundamental social change. 

This would seem to include the deputy leader of the Party, the General Secretary of the Party, many members of the NEC and, vitally, the majority of the PLP. 

It is the latter who, under the current rules and with their current political make up, will never allow any MP from the left onto the ballot for leader again. 

This was the whole point of the coup. They put enormous personal and political pressure on Corbyn to step down because then they would not have to allow anybody else from the left onto the ballot and they could return to business as usual. 

This has nothing to do with personal competence and everything to do with long-term political goals and their desire to maintain the status quo. 

This can be seen again in the recent attacks, some of them clearly class-based and anti-working class, on Rebecca Long-Bailey, whose performance on the Andrew Marr show was, in itself, very strong and assured - something that the right of the party simply cannot allow themselves to admit. Strong potential candidates from the the left must produce a particular thrill of horror for them. 

Before Corbyn can step down, there must be changes to the procedure for choosing the candidates for leader so that the hard right cannot simply block those candidates who would be preferred by the wider membership of the Party. 


Anybody allied to the Labour Party with a genuine desire for radical change rather than  just tinkering with palliatives for the worst depredations of capitalism has to recognise that this is the case and act accordingly; otherwise, whatever their motives, they are effectively working to prop up the establishment - both in Labour and beyond. 

Tuesday, 14 March 2017

Immortality

An expansion and a relaxation though 
still they face the eradication of possibility but,

unhindered at first by a perception of crushing power 
always sitting on their sleeping chests and laughing 

through their seeming absence of significance, until 
they start to wave, even without bucking or fighting exactly,

weight increasing and pressure on the air pipe and
it's so easy for the others who are sitting on their 

sleeping chests, ignored largely, mostly, but now they 
have even noticed and the nuisance must be eradicated 

easily because it's not them just glancing but the sun is 
low and bleak in the mirror and a joy of beauty

is going to be snuffed out, an absolute shredded and binned,
except that a night six weeks ago there was a glance that 

is there and can't be removed, and other glances 
into the low sun and the fog of Spring.