‘DOORWAYS APPEAR WHEN NIGHTMARES DAWN’ - a poem (Escapril - prompt 1)

Spring clean your mind

Clear your head

Sweep the shelves

Of your thoughts library

Mop the floors of your skull

Escapril - prompt 11

‘Elephants Happened’ (a poem)

WHAT ITS NAME MEANS (2 thoughts explored from 2 sides)

When it’s shit

You: Earth’s a shit place to live.

Me: That’s a bold claim.

You: It’s just shit, isn’t it? Disease, inequality, war. Everyone hates each other. And even the people you like will turn on you at any time, for any reason. Most of nature can and will kill you, if it gets the chance. And all the nice and harmless things left over have been burnt, poisoned and utterly abused by us; to the point where the planet’s become deadly, inside and out. So…yeah. Earth is just shit.

Me: Hmm… And its name means ‘dirt’.

You: So? What, are you saying we’re foolish to expect any better?

Me: Not at all. I don’t think it’s foolish. I think it shows affection. Imagine you’re writing a story. And you make the villain the most despicable, heinous, unrelenting person you can think up. They lie and cheat. Manipulate and steal. They rape and murder and do it all without a second thought. Now, you could name this person ‘Jack The Ripper’ or ‘Ivan The Terrible’. You could name them ‘Skeletor’ or ‘Voldemort’. Hell, you could name them ‘Satan’. But no one would care. No one’s invested. Why expect any better from a name like that? Now pick a neutral name. An ordinary, unassuming name. Keith. Susan. Doctor Smith. Those villains make you feel something. No matter what terrible things they do. You might feel disappointed. You might feel betrayed. You might even feel hopeful they can still turn it around. Because you know a ‘Keith’. And a ‘Susan’. And every Smith you’ve met, doctor or otherwise, has done so much better. Became someone better. So those villains… might yet grow.

You: What…are you talking about?

Me: I dunno. Its name means ‘dirt’. Like where you plant things.    

When it’s beautiful

You: Earth is such a beautiful place to live.

Me: It has its moments.

You: Don’t you think it’s beautiful? Bright blue skies and fluffy white clouds. Rolling green fields next to breathtaking mountains. And the sea. The majestic sea. So vast and full of life. Every creature is unique and fascinating to learn about. Just like the people. I’m no fool. I know humanity has made many mistakes. And, as a species, we rarely show gratitude for our generous planet. But I truly believe that each and every one of us has the capacity for good and kindness. Such a beautiful place…

Me: Hmm… And its name means ‘dirt’.

You: You always do this! You’re always ruining my nice little daydreams…

Me: That’s not my intention at all. I don’t think it ruins things. I think it… adds character. Imagine you go to see a magic show. And the magician’s name is ‘The Incredible Majestico’ or something like that. He’s loud and proud and covered in glitter. Most of his tricks are fairly standard – cards being picked, rabbits being hatted. Things appearing and disappearing without explanation. But this guy does everything with extra flourish. Big auditorium. Big pyrotechnics. Big dance numbers. You’re never given a chance to take it all in. All flash and no firework. At one point, he brings you up on stage. He asks for your name and then promptly forgets it as he takes the microphone back. After the trick, he gives you a plastic rose; which is soon bent out of shape during the ride home. 

The next evening you see a different show. Much smaller theatre. Much smaller magician. Her name is just ‘Miss Magic’. She’s soft-spoken, wearing street clothes. The stage is bare excepting her assistants: a white cat named ‘Cat’ and yellow dog named ‘Dog’. Again, her tricks are fairly standard. You could maybe guess how she does them based on the night before. But you don’t want to. Because instead of brash bravado, this woman has calm confidence. She’s not looking to shock or amaze. She’s just sharing something she’s proud of. That she enjoys. Again, you’re asked to volunteer. But Miss Magic doesn’t invite you to the stage. Rather, she approaches your seat and kneels by your side. Everyone leans in, huddling around you. When you tell her your name, she repeats it with a warm smile. After the show, she finds you in the lobby, her arms outstretched. As you accept the hug, she whispers her thanks and kisses your cheek good night.

You: Oh my god. That’s… Wow. Wait a minute, the cat named ‘Cat’ and the dog named ‘Dog’. Were they, like..?

Escapril - Prompt 10

'Can Humanity Eat More Ice Cubes?' (a poem)