turning by Alexandra Dowling
when will we heed the warnings of a goddess in distress?
the scars of her abuse run deep she will no longer be oppressed
body plundered beauty squandered let this time be our test
a lack of love where love was due
we binged she gave we just kept right on it
still more we crave and now we’re hooked on our own vomit
like my friends bent over toilets with fingers down their gullets
to eject the fear and loathing that hides inside in a frantic bid to self correct
because they too believe the lie to which we’re still complying
desperate for comfort we’re grabbing and grasping and taking and raping and using and clasping to the next rung on the ladder
and hey life is tough so why not numb out when waters get rough?
world leaders hang heads but refuse to be led by the science
or youth who are begging for truth
too overwhelmed by what lies ahead they shake hands or shake fists instead
‘cause how do you reverse a runaway train if you’re invested in keeping the game just the same?
if perpetual growth is our ultimate goal i feel stuck in a nightmare that deadens the soul of the mother that birthed us sustains all we do
and like wounded children that never grew up we’ve rejected our mother and now our times up
on the lying and climate denying
on excuses these times call for muses
because this guiding myth of more dictates one thing
that gdp growth is the cause that will win and all other missions just get in the way of this game that the top one percent love to play
i belong the tribe of capitalist consumers brought up to thrive on socially sanctioned ecocide billed as wealth creation and enterprise
centuries of exploitation labelled development and progress
the mass manipulation of a colonial education and the corporate press
the problematic proposition that ‘the market knows best’
i won’t deny i’ve benefitted
i know that i’m complicit
but if i run from the blame i’ll keep doing the same old shit i always did and just ignore my part in it ignore the knocking at my ribs that says
if every earthly heart is broken
why not let yours crack wide open?
your fallibility - it’s human
we’re all caught in these stories that perpetuate distress by enshrining competition as the route to success but survival of the fittest only tells a partial truth
the better part of darwin’s theory is that we evolve not lose
through our empathy and care and collaboration too
a fact oppressive systems appear to refuse
we’ve been cycling these white lies inside our minds for our whole lives
and conditioning’s a powerful force to override
but I know that we’re here to do more than just survive
now it’s ‘too late’ to keep the dream of 1.5 degrees alive
but there’s a route through this crisis where we find another way
co-create a future in which children can play on our streets instead of protest
honours freedom wisdom love
honours beauty truth and mystery below and above
one that reunites us with our desecrated mother
helps us look at our divisions and relate to each other
not as winners or losers but sisters and brothers
fucked up, failing, flawed but capable of more
excuse me for being naive but it’s never too late to start
i’m sure we all feel it what i’m saying isn’t new
the only thing that’s left to ask is ‘what is mine to do?’
do i have the courage to stand for what i know?
do i have the humility to say that i can’t do this on my own?
find communities of care to upend the status quo proving economies that dare to put love first will grow strong enough to uproot the weeds it’s time to overthrow
can we empower each other to take a step that counts?
and keep taking small but hopeful steps until our time runs out?
can we keep an open mind and be kind
while we’re learning how best to turn up
in this time of great turning?
