Incubator

I wrote this poem a while ago but never posted it, so World Prematurity Day seemed like a suitable time to do so.

It was inspired by some Brian Cox documentaries (a comment in one and then The Planets series, especially the final episode) and a Tracey Thorn story in her episode of Desert Island Discs.

Incubator

Are you dreaming of me?
Cartoon bear, taped to your tank
to keep you safe.
You’re probing in the dark,
seeking a signal that I can’t show you.

Flickering light a landing strip,
unless you’re passing through
searching
for life like Cassini, ice mountains on Titan

whose time will come in the expanding sun.

I can’t do this
and not dream

of Enceladus, a home
to salty water our machines have touched,

frozen Uranus
and a fear I cannot stop,
Neptune, plagued by limitless winds,
with backwards Triton saved from the dark.

What if we miss each other
in passing,
with nothing left but the doomed Kuiper Belt

and exile from the heat of hope -
but there! Pluto!
A lost dream

of a planet that we left behind,
but went to visit with its discoverer’s ashes
and finding now
that this world may hide an ocean
enclosed, like us, by a ring of blue.
I’ll reach for the glass and imagine you,
but if there’s nothing more
to be found
than transient potential in this infinite terror of black,

then I’ll just keep circling your miraculous sea.
Look up
and dream.

The things I've seen

Took part in a poetry workshop back in July, which I've never done before. It was part of a project called Breaks and Joins that my friend Shax is involved in, facilitated by the poet (amongst other things) Arji Manuelpillai, and I plucked up the courage to accept the invitation.

We were writing about something broken, and I wanted to choose something no longer working but not visibly broken, so chose a flat battery. This is what popped out (almost, changed a few small bits). I think it's a bit Toy Story meets Blade Runner (or even more Blade Runner, if you think there's already elements of that in Toy Story, which is an argument I'm here for).

The things I’ve seen

 
This lean triple A,
circular and stylish,
Shoreditch hair and expensive Duracell Jacket,
is slowing like a late-night dodgem car
and saying,
‘the things I’ve seen, the places I’ve been’,
is namedropping: Fisher Price – and Mattel,
is heading to the bar after closing
and doesn’t tell the truth.
 
Too scared to admit
that he just sang and sang
to this giggling child
and lost track of time.
 
Energy transferred cannot return.
But oh,
‘the places I’ve been, the things I’ve seen’.

I came out of lockdown

For those feeling weird in weird times.

I came out of lockdown

unimaginably

grateful for the opportunity

speaking fluent

having refurbished my rage

as Detective Inspector, congratulations,

with a side-splitting routine about sides splitting

and a ground-breaking anti-novel

with attachment issues

awarded 2020’s Gadget of the Year, with a whopping 20 hours of public life

unfortunately

not drowning but third-waving

postponing an inquiry

upside out and inside down and

unlikely

unskilled

unready

for coming out of lockdown,

unlocked

and that’s about it.

Kroenke out (in poem form)

You can see more about what I'm referencing below here and here.

Statues

tell a story of what people did.

It’s why a defender of note
still saunters round the North Bank,
his work done.
It’s why we all bow to a king on his knees,
and why we hold our breath
for the eternity a Dutchman creates
to welcome the ball home.

It’s why a boy studies a ball next to a bridge

that he built.
It’s why our greatest fan,
whose love gave us everything,
sits inside a stadium
that he built,
and why a favourite selfie companion of legacy fans,

young and old,
stands back and takes in
a club
that he built.

And it’s why, one day,
two separate bricks,
connected only by a moustache,

will sit somewhere,
out of the way
but never forgotten.

A fitting tribute
to a famous man

who built nothing.

Success!

Since 2015, I'd been off-and-on writing to Arsenal to try to get them to use 'Men' instead of 'First Team', because it shouldn't be 'football' and 'women's football', it should be 'men's football' and 'women's football'.

This was inspired by Caroline Criado-Perez's book, 'Do it Like a Woman', in which she talked about the importance of terminology and the effect it has in making people feel welcome in given spaces.

Since 2015, Manchester City and Chelsea had made the change. I'm now delighted to report that a couple of weeks ago Arsenal did the same!

I'd like to thank my mum, my dad, etc....

I seriously doubt my letters had anything to do with it, but who cares, they've done it, so I'm happy! Well done me.

New poem

Here is my latest poem. It is inspired by a friend, who used the title phrase in the context of a story in such a way that it really stuck with me.

I tried a few new and different things with this one, based on the emotions I was trying to grasp. Pretty happy with how it turned out, and feel a new freedom to experiment, which is nice.

The Wind on my Face

I sat in the sky, teetering.

I traced my life with a finger

and felt nothing

but the wind on my face.

With help, I burrowed

bewildered,

back down to sad faces,

and incomprehensible

me.

Feeling nothing

about anything,

I blinked like a cursor,

in and out of being.

Until I drew my mind,

in big, looping arcs.

The crunch of pencil lead

said, ‘I’m still here’.

I started then I stopped.

I cut       word,

and that      ,

because sometimes you need a blank         .

I threw out my plot.

I ransacked my rooms.

I killed my characters

and cut and cut and cut and

I threw the pieces away.

I shook with fear,

but the wind I felt on my face

and I don’t remember the rest.

I held my template,

ran my hands over it,

for what felt like the first time.

But it couldn’t have been.

I poured in colour without consequence,

and while it had no meaning,

it was mine.

When my thoughts and feelings duel

and I feel myself rising,

I can happen on a

pause, delivered by

nothing

but the wind

on my face,

and it brings me back down.

Arsenal update

Here is my latest letter to Arsenal about them (sigh) still not having changed the use of 'First Team' to 'Men's Team'. No response to this one or the one a few months before this that was similar in content, and the new management structure means it's tricky to know the best person to write to now.

Plus, they have a bit more to think about at the moment, based on current results....anyway, here it is.

8 May 2019

Dear Mr Venkatesham

I am once again writing to you as an Arsenal fan to ask you to change the name of Arsenal’s First Team to Arsenal Men.

As I explained in my letter dated 14 February 2019, for the past few years I have been writing to Arsenal’s former Chief Executive, Ivan Gazidis, to advocate for this change. I believe that you are the person at the club to approach about this, but please forward this letter on to someone else if that would be appropriate.

After the Brighton game on Sunday, I was struck by the number of times the phrase ‘first team’ was used to describe the Men’s First Team. This was despite the fact that the women were in attendance as newly-crowned league champions, for the first time in nine years and in the first year in which the women’s top division has been entirely professional. I felt that the inappropriateness of the term was very evident, and I believe that I will not have been the only one.

This is an example of the phenomenon of ‘male default’, described in detail by Caroline Criado Perez in her latest book, Invisible Women (published in March). It assumes the male experience is the universal human experience, and that women are secondary.

The book outlines many examples of the damaging effect this can produce in a number of environments. Although Arsenal is proud of its women’s team, the club says that it has a ‘first’ team, and it is the men’s team. They are senior to the women’s team (they are ‘first’ after all), better than them, more central to what football is because they are what ‘normal’ football is. They are made to seem universal, but are of course as gendered as women’s football. They should be ‘Men’ and ‘Women’, not ‘First’ and ‘Women’. The former is exactly the way that Manchester City and Chelsea describe their teams, so Arsenal - the league champions, having beaten City and Chelsea to that title - are now lagging behind.

Yes, it is the ‘First Team’ because there are reserve and Academy teams. But they are stepping stones to the top men’s team. Arsenal Women are not a stepping stone to Arsenal Men, so Arsenal Men cannot be the ‘first’ team. Indeed, they both have reserve and youth teams, so the names really do cease to make much sense. They are legacies of a past in which women’s football was ignored or outright banned, as it effectively was until 1971.

This is even more stark in the light of this summer’s World Cup, which is likely to see a further explosion of interest in and support of the women’s game. The timing is perfect to make this change, but the window is closing fast.

Society is made up of everyone and everything. Each person and organisation needs to take their own responsibility for the signals they create. I’m sure you do not need me to tell you that not only are Arsenal Football Club no different, they are a huge, globally recognised institution. What we do, what football clubs like Arsenal do for sport, is to help set a tone for society. They are big bricks in the wall of society. The way to change perceptions is for each individual person and organisation to look at what they can do to help, or what they are doing that is not helpful, especially now that other teams are leaving Arsenal behind.

If Arsenal Football Club believe that its men’s and women’s teams are part of the same club, then this is the opportunity to prove it, and avoid being last to do so. To prove that we are indeed ahead of the game, and worthy of our great champions who have just won the Women’s Super League.

Yours in optimism,

Martin Cordiner