Graduation

“Today marks a gateway to a future

which can hold on for just one more minute.

For now,

It’s about being proud.

All the hours at the library,

vindicated.

Study booth book tower uncomfy pillow,

Theorising throwing a silent housewarming

party to cries of “the library is my new home…”

 

All the stress,

Intellectual and mental health tests,

When it felt like it might be sink instead of swim,

Toes in at the deep end,

Push up, and here you are,

Reading the Thank You page,

The parents, carers, partner, friends, the helpful experts who lent a hand.

 

People hug and beam,

Proud as punch,

Punch-drunk on a heady elixir of fulfilment with a dash of fear

Of the unknown, that rogue.

But here is the finish line, for the current round.

What next? What was it all for?

Hold those thoughts,

the day is yours.

 

EMC

With its meditations on the nature of humanity, the arrival of Wonder Woman couldn’t be more timely

 

Diana, Princess of Themyscira, is (in)famously the only leading woman of a comic book film since 2005’s Elektra. The invisibility of women in superhero films is endemic and so entrenched it has become the norm (try and imagine a 12 year absence of male led superhero films being entertained). In the hands of director Patty Jenkins (Monster, 2003) Wonder Woman delivers a suspenseful story dynamically told.

 

Diana Prince is given the context and history of an origin story, as an only child of the Amazon Queen nipping at the heels of her impressive and ferocious fighting sisters, her idols. Relationships are explored between mother and daughter, friends and siblings on this woman only paradise.

 

A harmonious life, it is abruptly disrupted by the interruption of Chris Pine’s WW1 pilot. Diana is compelled to leave the confines of Themyscira with him, aggrieved at his stories of war and suffering.

 

There are light touches of humour deftly played by Lucy Davies as Pine’s secretary (cue the response to her job description, “We call them slaves”) which pitch against the horrors of war and Diana’s earnest outrage. This is where Wonder Woman departs from superheroes before her, in her significant capacity for compassion and empathy. Gadot imbues this fierce warrior with a warmth that enriches both character and story.

 

In a plot which sees mortals developing chemical weapons,  and enact mass killing at the German front, it is the goddess who ends up bringing a humanity to proceedings.

 

The palette of the film evokes vintage footage and steeliness,  so that in full Wonder Woman action, Diana does not look so incongruous on the battlefield as one might think.

 

There are pointed moments of deliberate attempts at ‘girl powered’  dialogue and attitudes, which mostly succeed. However,  a throwaway line describing Diana as being distracting sits poorly – there doesn’t need to be any reinforcement of the idea that men can’t help themselves when a woman is around, even if she is this wonderful. The token slightly sleazy companion who seems included to reflect more regressive male attitudes also detracted, even though this same character delivers a bold statement on racism that was a welcome one. This unevenness in the treatment of the character may reflect the writing and story team (male only). For a film which will undoubtedly reach a young female audience, there is no need to tell them that men find women fighting each other a turn on. It would have been better to see Diana have more female characters to interact with, Peggy Carter and Diana taking on WW2 together is a tantalising idea for example. For now, this writer remains pleased that attempts to tether Diana to a male love interest were brief and her story remains one of a journey to discovering her own powers and purpose.

 

Jenkins’ assured direction of this anticipated and much needed addition to the world of film balances thrilling action with a humanity that should leave us all wondering how we could better navigate a difficult time in our history by looking towards the qualities of this wonder woman.
This film passes the Bechdel test (due to conversations between Diana and her mother). 
Emc

Release

Teeth brushed clean,

bra unclipped,

first fresh air,

shoes unslipped.

 

Downpour in the heat,

fresh clean sheets,

flash-filled kitchen floats on the scent of coffee beans.

 

Post-hike pint,

pre-booked taxi arrives on time,

first shower after the fest,

sink into pillows instead of wet grass-mess.

 

Downers on the outside,

crashing loud, a landslide,

blissful moments just in reach,

unfold,

if incomplete.

Side by side,

Weighted nights by fleet-foot rays of light.

 

EMC

Photo by the author.

 

 

continues

I give

my mind

my body

my time

who I am

who I wish to be

and who I was

And now you’re a part

of the past, apart, from me

and I don’t want to think of the day when I

give

my mind

my body

my time

who I am

who I wish to be

and who I was, to someone else,

now a part

of my past, apart, from me

and I don’t want to think of the day

I give

my mind

my body

my time

who I am

who I wish to be

and who I was, to someone else,

now a part

of my past, apart, from me

and I don’t want to think of the day

I give

my mind

my body

my time

who I am

who I wish to be

and who I was, to someone else,

now a part

of my past, apart from me,

and I don’t want to think of the day

I give…

(ad infinitum)

 

EMC

photo by the author

New Poem Published

On Friday 28th April a new literary mag launched – Paisley Poems. To write my contribution for this I cast my mind back to what it was like growing up in Paisley; spending time with grandparents, our regular haunts and familiar past times.

You can purchase the mag in person at Abbey Books or Rainbow Turtle in Paisley, or online at paisleypoems.scot for a very reasonable £1.50.

EC

Hewn

Glacial,

people pass,

push new routes through.

Friction forms heat,

metes the ice –

leaves you forever shaped by their shape.

Slim surface layers

become

pebbles

incremental.

Breaking away,

new, hew, paved.

Sloughed off,

the bare rocks watch

what will be brought,

and ask, how long have we got

EMC

Image Loch Coruisk, Isle of Skye by George Fennel Robson

After Winter

Last Spring I discovered that when the right eyes catch you in their light, you are seen. Aubrey was like the sunrise after a winter of Nordic nights. She brought a chance to start again, everything reset, you could be the person you wished you were the day before.

Aubre was direct, strong and had the ability to pierce whatever surface wore her reflection. Like slivers of sun-flares, burnt diamonds, she got under my skin. I was full of her.

In a short space of time, feelings grew like stems emerging from seed. Bursting like a river through a barrage, they flew.

I didn’t need to worry about letting myself go, risking running empty, because we were part of this together, me and Aubr . It was a cycle of replenishment, a process that couldn’t be seen but the consequences of which could be felt, proving its existence.

To and fro and back and forth, we exchanged parts of ourselves. As one person evaporated they were filled by the contents of the other.

Combining rushes of water and light left rainbow colours in our wake, a new spectrum for us. Aub danced bright, and I felt like I would never be afraid of the dark again.

Au was buoyed, Merle filled her from the tips of her toes to the whirls at the top of her crown.

Merl was rooted. She was strength, non-judgmental, with a sweetness to rival amber. A envied her.

Mer couldn’t fight what was to erupt, unchecked, from her heart. Leaving marks, like bark when its rings are marred with scars. Nurturing warmth turned scorched, their crossed paths were left parched.

Me was no longer doused by      to obscure or salve her wounds. The rush of elements stopped as abruptly as it started.      would have tried to hide a roll of her eyes at being described as ‘elements’. M would have blushed, nudging her love with a lightness of touch.

The ferocity of fire was left to burn itself out, incrementally; a violent, unwanted, renewal.

was glad not to face these consequences.

still searched for diamonds in the amber.

EC

Image by Victoria Morton
Source: generationartscotland.org/artists/victoria-morton/

Realise

She walks all night

But it’s summer

So it’s still light

And what is night looks like day,

The moon

At play.

Kneading the frustration

Out on her skin

Almonds and honey rise,

Fake scent from the bottle

But she isn’t going to

Mix it herself,

So the imitation it is.

If you didn’t know in advance

Could you tell

A blind test

Every time my mouth meets another’s.

When I tasted her,

I thought she was the real thing.

EC

Image: Summer, Margaret Macdonald, c1894