Paying Good Attention
Quick online to see
off
another scary odd-bod blocked
click kick that
ick.
But needy or wild children
we supported,
over 900 young people a year – all with screens
now recalling them dimly for the best.
Our last ditch organisation vast,
floating youth there trying to find
their feet
did exist
before they fell off any edge
of their world.
"Discovering what sad or lost people love and aim for,
then guided towards goals
a stronger vehicle of self
develops;
picture together any good they aim for and offer
pointers."
Social media may teach us too.
Interest noted there and banked on
into places to well spend time.
chuckling around whatever a meme is;
checking sources and links for sound info.,
around reasonable – you can tell
safety does this soft dance and slides
doors clearly into place.
Exits always clear....
Hopeful but edgy in unknown territory;
eventually exploring possibly half-aware
perhaps we know one another best without screens
pictures and news and thoughts – fuller when?
Every like pings maybe-popularity,
impossible-to-know for sure,
how to carefully fit amongst billions,
or when hiding behind another new name.
What crowd and pull in there – which way?
Some mornings I beep too,
a silicon chip implanted in my sleep,
watching other side of the world treasure-hunters.
My art global gleeful in Grey Lynn en zed,
and my head's um, here or bare
but like a beach.
Tired certainly
of narcissists and scammers
(much like sighing at weeds,
seeing them reappear (like every baddie can).
Any good-looking or odd photo could
conceal a creep,
maybe invasive or as muddled as a storm,
a few gormless like mud and noise.
Wearing, rubbing away whatever
badly holds you
together.
The narc chooses sick-subtle or sudden effects
akin to stroking then kicking you,
everything crashing – trust smashes – websites tell all;
don't fall.
Writing poetry and eating dark chocolate
(vitamin B12 and iron help build resistance).
Blocking another sad awful
danger away when then deep blue remains.
Cats walk along a fence here later out the window
eying overgrown places to hunt in....
Sunshine a spotlight,
beaming over our tragedy and comedy,
quiet times too or into non-fiction
expeditions
introspections
during particular phases of the moon
and some best tested plans
to continue....
Raewyn Alexander is a writer of fiction, poetry, non-fiction, essays, reviews, blogs and critique, originally from Hamilton. She is also an editor, publisher and performer. She has published three novels, co-written two guides aimed at teenagers, multiple poetry collections, and her writing has featured in many literary journals. She was editor of Magazine, an arts journal, established in 2003. Alexander is a practiced performer of her poetry and has been a guest at reading events and poetry festivals. She regularly hosts writing workshops and performs her own poetry, both in her home, Grey Lynn, Auckland, and overseas.
