So the past couple weeks in lockdown have been difficult. My plan was to try and utilise the time in lockdown to knuckle down to some Deep Work (using Cal Newport term to describe meaningful work. He’s written a book entitled Deep Work that I’m currently reading *), in my case writing poems, short stories and making poetry films. But I’m keep being interrupted- by life but mainly by by own sabotaging brain. Blackout poems or for me, a bit like doing a word search or colouring in, it helps calm a racing mind.
One interruption which I could not ignore, was a series of screams, and torrent verbal abuse on my street. A man dangling his three month old daughter in front of her mother. The man had beaten the Mother, kicked her out the house (the house that belongs to the woman) bare foot and was now verbally abusing her. The woman fearing for the safety of herself and her baby, snatched the child from the mans grip and runs. At this point I could no longer watch and had to do something, so called her over, invited her into my home and called the f@!king police on the man to get him removed from the house.
This was the second domestic abuse situation on my street where the police had to be called, during lockdown..
I talk/ write about domestic abuse a lot, because it’s prevalent and it kills people, usually women but not always. If the victim isn’t killed they are left traumatised and sacred deeply, which can, for some take years to heal from.
So when my Blackout Journal *prompted me to write a poem about love from a page of J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan- this is what my subconscious produced ( a couple weeks before Lockdown but it’s relevant)