I was born into captivity, into a family, they were in charge, set my daily routine, administered my food, decided when I was heard, what I should see, my destiny.
Those gaolers sent me to an institution that held me captive, defined my agenda, put me in a room, decided what I should learn, when I was good enough, when I should be let out
into another ritual, and on into another asylum.
Gradually I was made fit for an open prison, condemned to a life sentence immersed in a language I had no power to design.
Moment by moment, my thoughts sucked into solitary confinement within a zeitgeist that disguised itself as an dreamscape, shaped with illusions of grandeur.
Captured & captivated, imprisoned & impressed,
As if I was an ant that thought he was a free spirit
As if an elephant that loved to be tethered in a circus tent
Even my imagination ring-fenced.
I was bred in captivity by a family that thought there was a key hidden somewhere safe
As if it could be released in time to avert what is to come.
The ants face extinction
Elephants are shuffling into an abyss
The key never strong enough to turn the lock, and release inmates
These marks, letters, phrases, are a sentence for some and a sentence for all.
The eyes of the wild animal that roves over paragraphs & stanzas are focussed on straight lines.
I don’t see what I don’t see in my captivity.
The mystery of history.
From Bath to Cork with baby Grace 