Crush

Crush

Blue freeze frame wave

Awe in Azure

Awe never describes
Width in liquid girth
Amazed views
Crushed immensity
*Uncontainable
You

A wave about to break

Cyan Turquoise Wave

All enmeshed
Azures soft movement
Tranquil rhythms unending
Surprising furiously
Eroding curves
You

Bubbles stratifying

Caught Beneath

Inescapable
Bubbles
Mirthless faces
Flexible rubbing
Time *turqoised
You

Stuck and glassy wave

Water Frieze

Epitome in Translucency
Thief
Erasing pasts
Hidden deep
Increases
You

Wave of Might

Flexible Might

Waves disappear
Salty cascades
Rise and Fall
Continuous Change
Strengthens
You

Collaboration offers chance to hone a piece in amazing ways. Add your suggestions for lines 31, 32, 33 in the comments below.

My aim – complete Crush by Saturday the 1st Dec 2018 with the suggestion coming from OnlyRae.

Thank you for the support…

The podcast link below discusses a piece of work written in tattoos on a collection of bodies.

The Allusionist Podcast 

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Ignite

This poem/’call to arms’, is written for a former work colleague.
I promised to hold a conversation with.
Then
I left
The aim of the conversation – to ignite their fire.
The intention also is to inspire another,
Others,
You.

And begin

Dawning Realisations

Above the Clouds

Staying at the office all hours just to make sure that all tasks for everyone else are done.
Seemingly making your tomorrow’s better.
Has that ever worked?
Really?

That life that you said you wanted is waiting.

Withering yet waiting.

The dream of supporting others with therapy, dance, massage, hypnotherapy, aqua yoga, pilates, debating, aromatherapy, law, osteopathy, teaching, climbing, acting, martial arts, physical and mental health training – are drumming fingers on tables and waiting.

There is the you
Doing the justifying thing.
That “this job?”
“This role”,
“This thing is enough.”
But is it.…

Really?

What would it mean to stop?
To re-plan, re-think, replay your path to the role you always wanted?

Those long hours of training.
The exams, the tests, the reviews, the study hours, the midnight vigils, the all-nighters and support given and taken were for you to grow.

Pushing papers, filing, scheduling may be the new fulfillment.
But if it’s not,
What
Are
You
Waiting
For?

When you spoke to your friends you shared the vision of what you would be doing to help and to support change in other people’s worlds.
The light came on in your eyes.
The internal smile that you offered as a signal was undeniably present as you chatted.

Their eyes shone…

Like a million eye shining

Kusama’s Infinity Mirror

Bringing, offering, sharing healing you recognise is reciprocal like a circle.
It is not your cause or reason but a guide, an internal call.
Once, you answered whilst training and learning and now – the line – dormant and dusty is rarely picked.

Those moments whilst fleeting
When a friend, a colleague or family member excites
Your learning and you recall points on charts that support growth – return screaming,
Almost shouting “How could you have forgotten us?”
“Not used your knowledge more and helped others along their way with growth?!”

Glowing partly through gleefully earned pride you shudder at the response and begin re-asserting the mantle you have been carrying of…
‘Not quite ready enough,’
‘Not quite good enough,’
‘The time is not right, ‘
‘The world is not ready.’

Bullshit!

If another were to say that rubbish about themselves
Your will to see them right themselves and their situation
Would not allow you to hold back or permit them lie to themselves any longer.
And you?

No. Tall Trees Fear

Take what steps are necessary!
Read what books are helpful.
Watch what films excite and invite action
Listen to the music and songs that pull
Speak to those that encourage and inspire.
Seek out mentors and those that you can support.

Here – to inspiration – the path lies.

Pinpoint the re-entry rediscovery moment and with no holds barred LAUNCH
Breakaway
Break out
Break the yoke
Break the cycle

Nothing, can get in your way apart from excuses and you.
What are you waiting for?
The thing that you seek lies on the other side of fear.

 

Now

 

Begin

 

Now

A list of my aids and reminders…
Jonathan Livingstone Seagull – Richard Bach
The Alchemist – Paulo Coelho
The Matrix
The Artists Way – Julia Cameron
The Obstacle is the Way – Ryan Holiday

A pdf version of this manifesto is available at www.michaelforfiehcounselling.com under Contact

 

To your success

Ru n

Part 2 arrived whilst I was writing part 1. Energy and inspiration can be like that at times. Arriving when attention is paid to other things.

Pt 2…

Metaphor of Running Underground

Run

Ru n

I thought we would
Forever run
Together like a river

Running
It’s bed
Never running dry

As if running were
A sport of
Joy, run

Like pain, red
As paint, tracked across
Streets after bucket

Splatter and pedestrians and
Traffic and pigeons
And dogs exhaust

The wet tacky for many
Many metres

A picture of running

Running River

Expiring effluvia, you
Left as I ran at
Full pace, a while

After letting me
Run beside
But eventually you tired

And ran on
Ran faster and faster
And faster

Could not keep up
Cresting the next
Hill and disappeared

Running on
Hoping that
You wait for

Me still, there
Where last I saw
You Run

You’ve gone and I
Run on:

Coming over the hill

Running a Mountain

Glad of the company
Once I had had

The paff paff
Paff
A soft comfort

Unlike when you
Were here
Running

At

My

Wise

Side

Loving U…

U

Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly Album was featured in another blog. U stands out as my 2nd favoured track due to its layered complexity. U offers a montage to the story telling that adds to the songs beauty. An outstanding artist knows: it is not what the artist depicts, it is what the viewer brings with them, that adds to the pieces’ power and importance and beauty.

Kendrick’s Reflexivity

U invites me to recognise myself in this song. My experience of losing someone I held dear. A friend, a fellow artist, a dancer singer actor, lay therapist. 7 years ago my friend died. Jamui Adebiyi I met at university. He was a fellow attendant at ACS and possessed a wicked sense of humour and a wisdom that seemed other worldly. We both enjoyed the artistry of hip hop and most of 1992’s American Hip Hop. Grime, Trap and Drill were 2 decades away.

Winning and Losing

In June the idea of hip hop as therapy was birthed as a result of a conversation. The below is a perfect example of a therapeutic outcome. I have been ashamed of my anger at the loss of Ade. Celia taught me that in reality there was no more that I could do, or could have done. The pain I feel, have felt is a reality of what I miss – a friend I had discussed the finer qualities of life: to laugh with,  Philosophize amongst and hold a number of disagreements against and not win. An example of our arguments was who was a better artist. Biggie or 2Pac. For me Biggie Smalls was king in his 2Pac was an idol and an important example of  Hip Hop’s relevance and success.

Synchronicity

The hook states that loving you is complicated. I really enjoy that Kendrick’s voice cracks and breaks, perfectly mirrored by Kamasi Washington’s horn. From here I was drawn in to the play between the musicality and the poetry.

{Screams}

[Hook: Kendrick Lamar]

Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated

Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated
Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated
Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated
Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated
Questions unanswerable

But why? What reasons are there for love to be complicated? Is love complicated? There may well be times where love is. Love as complication may be dependent on the person we love and how they then live. Or is it the us who does not manage with love well: complicating it’s experience? I think of the people I have supported at probation. I think of a play I watched in January: The Absence of Silence. Which featured a cast of women exploring experiences of domestic violence. Love is indeed complex and confusing and conflictual.

[Verse 1: Kendrick Lamar]

Love as complicated Art

Love like Jazz is both beautiful and complicated

I place blame on you still, place shame on you still
Feel like you ain’t shit, feel like you don’t feel
Confidence in yourself, breakin’ on marble floors
Watchin’ anonymous strangers, tellin’ me that I’m yours
But you ain’t shit, I’m convinced your tolerance nothin’ special
What can I blame you for? Nigga, I can name several
Situations, I’ll start with your little sister bakin’
A baby inside, just a teenager, where your patience?
Where was your antennas?

Where was the influence you speak of?
You preached in front of 100,000 but never reached her
I fuckin’ tell you, you fuckin’ failure—you ain’t no leader!
I never liked you, forever despise you—I don’t need you!
The world don’t need you, don’t let them deceive you
Numbers lie too, fuck your pride too, that’s for dedication
Thought money would change you
Made you more complacent
I fuckin’ hate you, I hope you embrace it
I swear—

Gaps

Was this person a teacher, preacher, priest? Was he a parent, come brother a community activitst a leader? It appears that he was something that upset and fell short of his own aims. And this gap was intolerable and anger making…

Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated
Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated
Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated
Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated
Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated

[Bridge: Kendrick Lamar]

Lovin’ you, lovin’ you, not lovin’ you, 100° proof
(I can feel your vibe and recognize that you’re ashamed of me
Yes, I hate you, too)

[Break: Jessica Vielmas]
(Loving you ain’t really complicated)
House keeping, house keeping
(What I got to do to get to you?)
Abre la puerta! ¡Abre la puerta tengo que limpiar el cuarto!
(To you)
¡Es que no hay mucho tiempo tengo que limpiar el cuarto!
(Loving you ain’t really complicated)
¡Disculpe!
(What I got to do to get to you?)
(To you)

An unopened door

This intro to Verse 2 is chilling and begins the emotional response from Kendrick reflecting on what was left… For me this verse is the heart of the song. The understanding is a visceral account of missing a love that is complicated. I enjoy that Kendrick is wildly emotional, his voice captures the raw emotion of the sentiment of loss. I thank the words, the expression, it gives chance for feelings trapped to move, to gain flight and lift…

Porcupine a love that offers pain

Loving you is Complicated

[Verse 2]

You the reason why mama and them leavin’
No, you ain’t shit, you say you love them
I know you don’t mean it
I know you’re irresponsible, selfish, in denial, can’t help it
Your trials and tribulations a burden, everyone felt it
Everyone heard it, multiple shots, corners cryin’ out
You was deserted, where was your antennas again?
Where was your presence?
Where was your support that you pretend?
You ain’t no brother, you ain’t no disciple
You ain’t no friend
A friend never leave Compton for profit
Or leave his best friend, little brother
You promised you’d watch him before they shot him
Where was your antennas?
On the road, bottles and bitches
You FaceTimed him one time, that’s unforgiving
You even FaceTimed instead of a hospital visit
Guess you thought he would recover well
Third surgery, they couldn’t stop the bleeding for real
Then he died, God himself will say, “You fuckin’ failed”
You ain’t try

A Rock

Kendrick opens up on his disappointment here. It sits like a rock. A boulder undeniably blocking his release. Here is where the truth of a death that is a shock is understood and stands as epitaph. The want in Kendrick’s lament is raw. I wanted for Ade to be around still – selfishly. I still do. This is the hard part. Acceptance of what is. Embrace appears impossible of this discomforting idea. If release is what I seek I am to clasp my hands around it like a bow, inhale and draw the spikes of this porcupine in.

[Verse 3]

I know your secrets, nigga
Mood swings is frequent, nigga
I know depression is restin’ on your heart for two reasons, nigga
I know you and a couple block boys ain’t been speakin’, nigga
Y’all damn near beefin’, I see it and you’re the reason, nigga
And if this bottle could talk–gulp–I cry myself to sleep
Bitch, everything is your fault
Faults breakin’ to pieces, earthquakes on every weekend
Because you shook as soon as you knew confinement was needed
I know your secrets, don’t let me tell them to the world
About that shit you thinkin’
And that time you–gulp–I’m ’bout to hurl
I’m fucked up, but I ain’t as fucked up as you
You just can’t get right, I think your heart made of bullet proof
Should’ve killed yo’ ass a long time ago
You should’ve feeled that black revolver blast a long time ago
And if those mirrors could talk it’d say, “You gotta go”
And if I told your secrets
The world’ll know money can’t stop a suicidal weakness

[Produced by Taz Arnold & Whoarei; Additional production by Soundwave]

Doubts

I am aware that this is a story enabling appeasement. I know that U represents the account of losing someone that meant the world. Perhaps that U was the self in pursuit of life’s trappings. Here Kendrick has caught and taught me. Celia’s words are recalled however the strong emotional tug of loss and regret block the safe removal of sad feelings and thoughts of what more I could have done to support Ade. I could have, I should have, provided chance for him to be heard. Perhaps offer refuge from the storm. My mind returns to saving – how could I have rescued my friend from ending his turmoil safely, life enduringly, healthily?

1 – 2 – 3 – let go

Hard acceptance: it was not my role to stop Ade. The answer, losing someone you love to death is undeniably difficult. Loving you is complicated. Losing someone you love to suicide is like an unexplainable phenomena that remains for a long time in the herafter… I accept the porcupine and the pain of hugging the spiny nature of this.

Perhaps by drawing in the unexplainable, healing can begin – after.

Hip Hop as therapy

https://youtu.be/Hu4Pz9PjolI An Interview with Kendrick

Another Awakening

Bridge into Wooded Vale

Here to there

Working in the criminal justice field for over 7 years I thought I had a good level of knowledge about supporting service users. Attending a round table discussion in January at Cookham Wood young offenders institute in Rochester changed my idea significantly. The Managing Director of Resolve Consultants invited attendees to ‘stay with the looseness’ and attempt to find solutions to end youth violence. The resilience, purpose, energy and passion of Mr Roberts is an awakening, that has inspired 2 poems that follow Pt 1…

The Other Half of Me 

You are the
Michael Jordan
To my Pippen
The Mozart to a
Beethoven

Wildly Spanning a River

The stable meets the mutable

The visible to
My hidden
The bold brass
To a
Whispers last
Gasp

A Soleil brilliant
To a twinkling
Distant
The trumpet to
My breath, my
Air, my aria
To your song
The Dance – slick
To my silent
Rhythm and
The key to a
Lock that is
Buried
Deep and
Unwilling, unyielding to
Let loose and
Fly because
Because,
Because you
Might not be
There, where

Passing beyond

An End?

Landfall is
And so
Like the shot
Not scored
My time is
Made up of,
Of waiting.
Fastening
Debating
Enlightening?
Fighting off
Fears of
Failure
Often.

Then I
Close eyes
Breath deep and
Let in…

Poetry – Psychology

Street Art - Poetry

Poetry as street art

Stopping

Having seen Innua Ellams perform, there seemed little reason for a continuance from my poetry book. His flow, poise, diction, ability to instil images in the mind of an audience I found defiant, brilliant and silencing. This was back in 2006. The idea of walking away from performance poetry never to return: easy. Watching Suli Breaks perform for an event for the Terrence Higgins Trust in 2015 reopened a door I had permanently shut. Speaking with Suli after he performed ‘Why I Hate School but Love Education’ reawakened a sleeping ember.

There has been a growing sense that the writing I offer has a significant piece of me missing. It feels like an eternity ago, that I used to stand, sometimes shimmy, on stage and offer my version of poetry to audiences in Shoreditch or near Spitalfields Market. Finding the experience of flow whilst teaching in April was a welcome experience. A friend commented once that the below was some of my ‘best writing’.

Perhaps…

After the conference

So I asked her how she got that scar on her chin…
She blushed then answered…
My mind had already raced ahead and targeted the place and,
Time the incident had occurred, and then

I noticed it in a work group, work shop, work thing, at a
Conference just off Oxford Street
It wasn’t big. Just a
Thin line. A divot of definition. Running off centre off
Of the chin to just below the bottom lip.

I had wondered how it came to be there, this scar.
Imagining a cat fight in poor light, searching to take aim,
Then fire. The line was construed as if a ruler and
Knife or other sharp object had come together to divide.
It must have bled.

Trying not to stare. It didn’t stand out much. No more
So than her brown shoulder length hair, or rich brown
Eyes. Framed in blue white sclera’s. Her pupils were
Large as she interacted with the group. Graceful arm
Sweeps as she elucidated her points

Imagining blood, seeping from the cut, slowly, loosely
Dripping, freely and with that free hand wiping gracefully
Wiping away the wound marked in red.

Ashamed? I could guess not. Aghast probably – unlike
The expected monthly. This red was of Pain not birth but
Death. I continued to stare. Aware of the mesmerising
Allure of this faint forgotten sliced vein.

She turned her head and I could tell it was only skin
Deep. Near fainted as she caught me. Gazing. Intimately
At her chin, out of the corner of her eyes. I shamefacedly
Averted my gaze – towards the mint green carpeted floor.
Resumed idle talk with a neighbour. Then turned to the
Door. As if expectant of a SURPRISE visitor.

The mark still called (Michael) my eyes back to
That point on her face, just above her chin and
Just below her bottom lip.

Only this time gazing through her noticing
Everything and her chin, the brown cords jacket,
The black blue jeans, the dark toe scuffed ankle
Boot shoe things. Sitting cross legged – Right over Left.

But above all, the mark, skin deep, kept calling,
And again my eyes went back to wandering

…”I had fallen through a plate of glass” she said
And re-enacted the scene, whilst sitting, then
Blushed

I chose that moment to gush an apology then
Said “Excuse me” and left the scene. She
Leaning on her right knee…
Holding her chin.

Wondering…

2004

At the time of writing ‘After the Conference’, I had never thought of involving myself with psychology or even forensic psychotherapy. The clues of what I do now are hinted at within the poem. Imagining scenes that have the potential to be as real for me as falling through a plate of glass was for her.

When supporting service users or clients as a counsellor, the role can be about holding  visions of hope. And possible alternatives that uplift, cleanse, heal.

Supporting another way to view the world that holds more potential than before.

The recognition for myself is that use of poetry back then, assisted a blending of realities – words as paint. Finding another way beyond an interior design career. Of course my poetry would be different to Innua Elams and Suli Breaks, it has taken a while to recognise and appreciate this.

The entry to the world of prose, poetry rhyme and meter, began before Hip Hop and has lead me to multiverses of psychology and…

Talking Therapy as Hip Hop

Power in Poetry

Music Therapy

My life partner CW happened to say a profound statement as we watched The Defiant Ones. She said ‘Rap is talking therapy.’ I was struck by the fundamental truth of her statement and tried not to confuse or complicate it.

Gutter Rainbows seeing the beauty in the everyday

Beauty in the everyday – Gutter Rainbows

Continuum

I wanted to write this blog as a bridge to offer a larger idea. Pulling current protagonists and icons of Hip Hop culture, and also pooling disparate experiences of music and psychology along onto a continuum. From the Podcast Code Switch, Jean and Shereen often ask ‘What song is giving you life?’ I thank them for the saying and the idea. My answer…

Analogy

To Pimp a Butterfly ends with a prophetic poem that depicts the human struggle in, Mortal Man. I grew emotional whilst listening. Possibly due to the idea shared above with thanks CW…

To: Kendrick Lamar – I witness your genius and the power in your words.

‘Damn
I wanted to read one last thing to you
It’s actually something a good friend had wrote describing my world
It says…

“The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it

A Cocoon hiding potential

The Cocoon from To Pimp A Butterfly

Its only job is to eat or consume everything around it, in order to protect itself from this mad city
While consuming its environment the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive
One thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him, but praises the butterfly
The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillar
But having a harsh outlook on life the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak
And figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits
Already surrounded by this mad city
The caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon which institutionalizes him
He can no longer see past his own thoughts
He’s trapped
When trapped inside these walls certain ideas start to take roots
Such as going home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad city
The result?
Wings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnant
Finally free, the butterfly sheds light on situations
That the caterpillar never considered, ending the eternal struggle
Although the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different
They are one and the same”

Metamorphasis

The beauty of the poem is the perception of a human reality seen through the changing experience of a creature that begins life in one form and earth bound and yet ends life in another and is benefitted by flight.

As analogy the three stages of growth brings to mind crime prison and freedom, infancy life and death. The analogy may arise due to the 8 years I have supported people involved with the criminal justice system in the UK.

Podcasts like Criminal, Ear Hustle, Burner Phone Podcast, books such as Are Prisons Obsolete, The Lucifer Effect, True Believer and documentaries such as the 13th, Teach Us All and Zeitgeist have increased my curiosity and want to develop solutions to the disparity between caterpillars and butterflies.Purple Butterfly

Interview List

There exists a long list of people I would love to interview on behalf of the Counsellors Cafe Magazine (TCCM)

3 Hip Hop Artists that top my list are Dr Dre, Kendrick Lamar and Logic. The former and the latter have been featured in 2 Netflix shows titled The Defiant Ones and Rapture. Both artists convey in rhyme and through living – the joy and pain of life and unparalleled successes.

Dr Dre’s experiences of betrayal loss and meteoric success has been artfully portrayed in the 4 part documentary The Defiant Ones. The hidden pain in his visage is as palpable as his iconic headphones and influence on the music scene.

Logic was an unknown for me, however his story is not only incredible and inspiring and captivating but also immediately recognisable. His idea of breaking psychological concepts down into songs that encapsulate a swathe of people across the US, clarifies his genius. The song 1-800 and the slogan EVERYBODY worn on hoodies, is about you me and everyone that we know. His message is beyond insightful. It takes us to sheer brilliance and has rightfully endeared him to millions.

Giving Life

To answer Shereen and Gene from above: a few years ago Janelle Monae’s Hell You Talmbout was THE SONG! What the hell you talking about (IVERSON) put the feeling of the unlawful killing of African-Americans by the hands of law enforcement into a visual and auditory format that is powerful and justified. Right now the song giving me life is Robert Glasper’s Maiden Voyage/Everything in it’s right place that is giving me life.

Kendrick happens to be for me an outlier, a Nubian poet powerhouse who’s instep with the universe is perfectly poised. The poem above is from the album to Pimp a Butterfly. The aim would be for the interviews to enrich the known world with their visions, their story to support the many caterpillars encased in their cocoons to emerge…