If you’ve been gassed…

This will not be brutal

but

if you’ve been gassed

you may experience

burning

in your eyes, nose, mouth

and skin.

You may experience

blurring

of your vision.

This will not be brutal

but

If you’ve been gassed

you may experience

breathing

difficulties and

coughing.

You may experience

raging feelings

 from pepper spray exposure.

Intense anger is a common response.

This will not be brutal

but

if you’ve been gassed

you may experience

confusion, disorientation

and panic.

But do not panic.

The effects of tear gas and pepper spray

are temporary,

not life-threatening

unless you’re vulnerable –

a child

or elderly

or immune compromised.

If you’re pregnant

you may be at risk of spontaneous abortion.

If you’re a nursing mother

you may be at risk of passing toxins

onto your infant.

Contact lenses may fuse to eyes

And cause blindness.

This will not be brutal

but

you may wish to avoid being gassed.

But please be aware

Police abuse is unpredictable

and avoidance is not always possible.

If you’re at risk of being gassed

a gas mask might be best

but please be aware

tho’ gas masks work best

they can look intimidating

and make us targets of police violence.

So, think carefully about your

impact on others

when you decide how to protect yourself.

And remember

this will not be brutal.

 N.B A lot of these lines were found at http://facingteargas.org/bp/70/if-youve-been-gassed

Found Poem

Ripples in the fabric of space-time
Simulation
Gravitational waves are prediction of the Theory of General Relativity
Their existence has been inferred by science but only now directly detected
They are ripples in the fabric of space and time produced by violent events
Accelerating masses will produce waves that propagate at the speed of light
Detectable sources ought to include merging black holes and neutron stars
LIGO fires lasers into long, L-shaped tunnels; the waves disturb the light
Detecting the waves opens up the Universe to completely new investigations

Haiku for refugee children

Aegean moonbeams
Lighting descents to darkness
The full Mourning Moon

blue

she flirts with turquoise

the sea and sky
watch passive

waves splashing
to the tune of the blood-lit moon

stars still shine at the allotted time

tinges of green fade

a painted lady combs her hair
til she's loving blue again

Haiku

pink twinkling lights
entwined with silver lace vine
British fall back time

Amber

I

Seven sisters pine for a brother, lost                                                  

as he tried to prove Apollo was his father.                                                    

Resinous tears have hardened to form                                               

relentless scars the colours of amber                                                  

on their aspen stems. Is selfless love                          

and sacrifice of life their only choice?                                                           

II

And for the Sun God is this really choice?

His son in flames and all his daughters lost

in molten grief.  Even divine love

seems futile for this father -

his offspring lactating amber

from their fruitless forms.

III

A fisherman scans the waves for the form

of his daughter, vortex-sucked  without choice,

to a luxury palace of amber.

The Lithuanian maiden is lost.

Though crowned by a prince of the sea, she calls for her father,

tossing glossy gemstones to assure him of her love.

IV

And Freya, stripped of her usual wisdom and love,

 moonstruck by Brisingamen’s glistening form,

forgetting her daughters and Odur, their father,

got fucked by four dwarves and paid for her choice.

She wanders in vain, seeks the husband she lost.

Sea-kissed, her tears wash ashore as pure amber.

V

A Sea-Queen possessed a palace of amber

and yet was powerless to love

or save her man whose life was lost  

when Daddy’s lightning struck his mortal form.

‘A mere mortal man can not be our mermaid’s choice,’

roared the god, reduced to the tones of an incensed father.

VI

Fiery mothers from my grandmothers’ father-

land wafted incense – burning scent of amber’s

orange flame. Yellow pendants, the Baltic choice

to heal and protect the families they love.

Their DNA’s included in my form,

so connection to that strength cannot be lost.

VII

Respect was lost. All fears were not, father.

But, as sun-spangles sometimes form in amber,

so I am charmed and love by my free choice.

Today would be Hermann Rorschach's 129th birthday so posting an old poem...

Table

 Three-quarters of the time I really feel

OK, quite well, quite sane, then once a month -

like when you go out for a special meal

the folded wedge of cardboard shoved beneath

the shortest leg of the most tremulous table

gets kicked away and causes an awkward tilt -

so, sometimes I  can become unstable

unable to handle an overspill of rage and guilt.

And once the table cloth is stained

with claret wine, a Rorschach blot,

and stainless knives have hit the ground,

and scalding words are no longer hot,

then blameless you replace the wedge

and lift me effortless from the edge.