MUD AT THE WALL
thrown by Mary Featherstone
LIFE CHOICES
Life
Made a home
In a handful of dust
Set in resistant ground
Would the dry land
Withhold consent
A host rejecting
This foreign body?
NAME
Your name weighs heavy on the tongue, some days
It has been taken hostage by a foreign power
And rendered unpronounceable
Light years away from those simple lines
Traced in Aramaic on red sand
That say, without pretension, ‘I am here’
THE BIRD THAT FINALLY LOST IT
I am the songbird that swears.
No tamed caged fowl, me
With garish green wings
No sir ! I rattle those bars
And I mean to soar
Over tower blocks out
To the cliffs and the sea
‘If you throw enough mud at the wall, some of it will stick’
An expression dating back to the age of wattle and daub constructions. Some of our creative efforts may be a little flaky but if we put it all out there something might connect.
Text and visual content is my own unless specified.
Too much respect for artists to claim that title, just enjoying myself.
Certains textes/poèmes sont en français.
Mud at the wall 