The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.
Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Friday, 10 June 2011
the quiet revolution
I also believe as strongly as I ever did that we need to resist control by money-driven corporate identities (multinationals, oil and pharmaceutical companies, centralised governmental bodies working against the good of people and planet in service to their god, Money). And now, as I'm still idealistic but older, I'm looking too at smaller-scale quieter ways of addressing these issues in our own backyard. (Not instead of, note, but as well as. 'In here' as well as 'out there'.)
You will perhaps know, and certainly if you live in England, of the transition town movement pioneered by Rob Hopkins here in Totnes. There's a great deal to say about this movement, and a great deal already written on it. For now what's relevant here is the delivery of power back into the hands of a small community.
And on the back of this – don't laugh – I want to mention gardening. If it makes you think of something dull and worthy carried out by your ageing grandparents – well, I understand. But it occurs to me that although the organic movement is growing hugely, as is the 'local food' movement in GB, the power of this is still largely untrumpeted and overlooked in the mainstream. The growing of your own food, and the personal health benefits plus the low-carbon-impact aspect, plus the omission of the use of pesticides and herbicides is an exponentially big move towards taking power away from the supermarkets and multinationals (and makes a difference to the planet). Determining what you put in your own mouth – and not exploiting others to do it – is an empowered and empowering act.
OK, not everyone is lucky enough as to have a garden – I know that. But even a windowsill can produce salad leaves much of the year. I have read that you only need a square metre to grow a significant amount of your own annual requirement of veg at least. Grow in boxes. Grow in old containers. Grow in buckets or cut-down old bins or cast-off 5L tins of eg food oil (ask at a restaurant what they do with their old containers) – check they haven't contained toxic chemicals, clearly! You can grow upwards in 'stacks' – old planks and bricks. Grow against walls. You can intercrop (eg salad between beans; beans among sweetcorn). Companion-plant and save space too: intercrop carrots with leeks and the leeks will put off carrot fly, carrots will be harvested first and the leeks will have room to grow on. You can grow continually-cropping things like spinach or chard or salad leaves in windowboxes. You can grow tomatoes and runner beans in pots, and soft fruit too. You can plant potatoes in used plastic bags on your own doorstep. Learn about wild food if you have access to the countryside. Queues for allotment spaces? Group together and demand more food growing space from your local council. You can post an ad to use some garden space owned by someone who can't manage it and share some of the produce in exchange. You can save the seed (and swap it). (One of the worst things I think done by Monsanto was to monopolise the African market and sell them only F1 hybrid seed – this doesn't produce fertile seed, so the small growers have to buy seed each year instead of saving their own. I'd be interested to know if anyone knows whether this is still happening? Comments box below.)
And of course the deeper quieter revolution is tending the garden of your own thoughts. Don't let anyone sell you the used-up collateral of our hybrid F1 collective (corporate) thought-police.
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- Elements of Poetry Part 1: poetry & the heart
- the bird of paradise
- the buzzard's feather
- poem: at the edge of the clearing
- Morning Poem
- 'the wind one brilliant day'...
- the greenwood
- Catholicism, transmigration, goats and Le Quattro ...
- merrivale at the summer solstice (poem)
- Radio 4's Poetry Workshop and 13-line sonnets
- cornwall, shark, blue scabious and poetry
- notes from Prussia Cove
- poem: not in our name
- the quiet revolution
- The compass of the heart
- Camino: the way of the wind and the path of the st...
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- prose poem: an illusion of molecules
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