Thursday, 9 June 2011

Inspired by the latest Oxfam Campaign

Here are four poems I recently composed, they are all inspired by the latest Oxfam Campaign about food shortages, highlighting climate change and generally the wrongs in the system.
To read about the Oxfam campaign, visit here Oxfam

 

Climate Change

Seasons change,
as they always have.
Something is wrong,
the seasons don't match
their previous paths
Dry when it should be wet.
Wet when it should be dry.
Floods wash away crops.
Drought kills crops.
Winds wreck crops.
Food that should feed,
dies as the farmer watches.
Helpless.
Families suffer.
Children starve.
Livestock falters,
Children die!
We may not be able to alter
the damage we have done.
Let's feed those that suffer,
because of our avarice.
They did not cause this nightmare,
they are paying the consequences.
It's time to think differently,
The System's Bust!

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Land Grabs.

Can you imagine how it must feel,
to have the land you need to survive,
the land you call home, taken away?

You live on a smallholding,
farming enough to survive,
enough to feed your family.

Along comes this man,
he says you must leave your home,
go away, at the point of a gun!

This is done in the name of progress,
you starve to make others rich.
Others starve alongside you.

The man gets rich on your loss,
the land goes to waste, fallow.
Nothing grows where once stood crops.

How do you feel now?
It’s time to think differently,
The System’s Bust!

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Food Price Hikes

How is running a car
more important than eating?
This is a question you would ask,
if you were starving!
How can it be right,
that people starve whilst food rots?
Warehouses full of grain,
rats having the time of their lives.

Think about Africa or India,
continents that daily go without.
Start to think of Europe, the Americas.
Look down your street,
who is going hungry tonight?
Children cry themselves to sleep,
through hunger!
Parents foregoing meals!

Now how do you feel about fuelling your car,
with that biofuel you bought today?
Do you even think of the food waste
that ends up in your bin?
Look in your fridge, what will you eat?
What will be thrown away without regard?
It's time to think differently,
The System's Bust!

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Intensive Farming

You can see for miles,
the big sky, blue overhead.
The flatness of the land,
villages lost in the haze.
Far off church spires
glisten in the sunlight.
Water towers dot the skyline,
even from a distance, dominating.
This is Fenland,
This is Farmland!

Giant machines crawl over the land,
no hedgerows hide their progress,
no trees offering welcome shade.
Irrigation ditches the half-hidden landlines
that cut the land deeply, dividing.
Mile after mile of fertile soil
worked until it can produce no more.
Grain, fruit and vegetables,
destined for western tables,
and ultimately western bins.

Gone are the days when
farming was a way of life.
Living off the land,
selling the surpluses.
We now measure our surplus
by the value tied up in it.
Not in how many mouths it could feed,
not by thinking who will eat tonight?
It's time to think differently,
The System's Bust!

©2011 Trevor Litchfield.

Sunday, 29 May 2011

Another day goes by

Another day goes by,
another day in my life forever lost.
So many days have gone this way,
leaving me with a sense of waste.
As I near a half century in years,
those lost days count ever higher.

Am I to leave this realm,
never knowing why it was like this?
I am lucky, I can read, write,
communicate with an audience.
There is a pleasure in that for me.
A satisfaction of reaching others.

If I am lucky, I have a third of my life left.
What to do with that time I am unsure.
I could read myself into oblivion,
for what purpose? Self gratification?
I could write my thoughts for all to see,
a lasting legacy that might live on?

I have no wish to make you despair,
I am not in a maudlin mood.
There are things I want to do (see),
people I would like to meet (love).
But I need to find a purpose,
one that feeds the hunger.

Today I add to my legacy,
more lines from the rhythms of my mind.
Undulating, like the Norfolk countryside
I have made my home.
I share my life with you this way
because I have nothing else to give.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Friday, 13 May 2011

If I were younger

If I were younger,
I could not want you more than I do now.
My desire would be just as overwhelming.

I love the way you play with your hair.
Tugging at it gently as we talk,
Twisted between your fingers, selfconsciously.

Your smile lights up the room,
I can't help but smile with you.
How I wish the day would never end.

We talk, open and honestly.
We are so comfortable together.
Easy with each other, relaxed.

I'm glad I met you,
I would not change a thing.
I am so lucky; you are a friend.

So, I am happy with who we are,
When we met and in an odd way,
I am so glad I am not younger
because we would not be who we are now.
We could not be honest and open,
You might reject. I might disappoint,
Your friendship I cherish,
I could not suffer it's loss.
You are in my heart,
There you will stay until it beats no more.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Along the riverbank

Along the riverbank, where the tall reeds grow
Is a place of solitude with only natures silence
The sun shines through, reaching the reedy glade
Offering light for the thoughts within me
I lay me down on the flattened grass
A place I have lain so often this summer
Staring up into the blue and white heavens
Letting my world slip away, easing my soul
Muscles relax after the long walk by the water
Aches seem to drift away, even on this hard ground
As my muscles ease and so my mind is freed
Thinking of what might have been
Thinking of nothing at all, at least trying!
The swirls in the clouds bring life to the sky
Shapes of everyday common objects, formed
I delight in seeing these familiar visions
Common, yet shaped within my thoughts
Reeds rustle as the evening breeze moves in
Time to leave my place of hiding
Taking my place in a misunderstanding world

Marlow in Buckinghamshire
http://www.oldukphotos.com/buckinghamshire_great_marlow.htm



©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

A good clear out!

Sometimes your cupboards get over full,
it needs a good clear out of the rubbish.
Old clothes that you no longer wear
need to be sorted and discarded.
That old pair of jeans that are full of holes,
that old shirt that has seen better days.
They all need clearing to make room
for new and different clothes.

Then you turn your attention to the bookcase,
over burdened with books read and unread.
Which should you keep, which to pass on?
There are plenty of new books to fill the gaps
but you have to make the gaps to be refilled.
Your mind churns as does your heart,
memories of this or that one
Good reads all apart from those untouched.

Your rooms are now cleared and tidy,
life feels better, lighter somehow.
All those clothes don't need washing,
all those books don't need dusting.
Sitting back with a mug of tea,
you glory in a job well done.
Time for new beginnings, new clothes,
new books to read, hoping that nothing will be missed.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Sunday, 1 May 2011

Misty Morning

Early morning mist casts an eerie spell
dawns early light diffused in vapour
Faerie kisses on the early spring grass
Spiders webs glisten in the hedgerow
Birdsong all around, nature is awake
welcoming the dawn of a new day.

A walker appears through the mist.
A dog trotting ahead, nose high,
leaving paw prints in the wet grass.
The first of many to go this way,
along the riverbank, enjoying life.
Taking in the splendour of the morn.

The river calm in the morning mist.
Rowers sliding their way upstream,
disturbing water fowl as they glide by.
Crews practising for that strenuous day
when they face other boats in competition.
Gentle wakes reach the shore and lap.

Fishermen cast their lines out into the water.
Floats bobbing on the flow, drifting.
A float sinks, a fish is snagged,
reeled in, fighting all the way.
To be weighed and placed in the net,
finally to be set free and caught again.

The sun climbs, the mist evaporates.
Joggers are seen in the distance.
Cyclists glide by on the tow path.
Pleasure craft move in the water,
water fowl disturbed once again
fly into the warm air, squawking.

A lone cormorant keeps vigil
from a derelict post in the water.
Looking deep into the dark fluid,
watching for breakfast within the flow.
It stretches it's wings in anticipation
of that dive into the water, plunging.

And so the riverbank comes alive
bringing life and pleasure to all.
Some are here to escape their lives
others are here because of life.
All are here to feel the oneness
that the riverbank offers us all.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

I Am Your Candle

A delicate light comes forth
small yet shapely and defined.
Barely enough to read by
casting long shadows over the page.
'Twas a time when this gallant flame,
oversaw treason and treachery.
It offers seductive splendour,
befitting lovers entwined on a rug.
Extinguished with a breath
it brings strength in the dark.
Not enough to heat a meal,
yet strong enough to melt hearts.
Gifting light when most needed,
imparting spirituality where none exist.
I see your soul through pupils reflection,
I bring warmth to all that wish to look.
For I am the light your heart desires,
I am your candle when you need light most.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield