E coli colonies
And clusters of blisters
Pink clusters of blisters
And scabs and lice
Do they taste good your cockles?
Do they feel satisfies your mussels?
Do you feel alive, alive, oh?
Candid she is ah
The women of the water
Of beds of sand burrowed deep
Shadows under rocks
On the corners of streets
A parasitic mass
Not the proverbial grain of sand
A fluid called nacre
Or mother of pearl is
Layer upon layer
Until a pearl
The product of an irritant
A cluster of blisters
Sweet pink satisfaction in
The labial palp
The entrance way to the mouth
‘I’m so cold and I’m so scared
And I’m so alone’
So, a pearl fisher needs to wear waders
There’s no dignified way to put on waders
And when it gets cold you have to **** yourself to keep warm
You also need a set of tangs
Mine are hazel
I got them from the wood
I cut it down but first I asked the tree if it was okay
The tree is part of the river too you see
It nourishes the peat
That filters the water that
Drips back into the river
That is filtered by the mussel
That the salmon and trout swim in
Then the mussel
The larvae attached to the salmon and the trout
And it forms a symbiotic relationship
Where the mussel filters the water and
The salmon and the trout
Spread their offspring
The way you can tell the difference
Between a male and a female mussel
Is that when you pick up a male it's
Literally dripping in *****
A constant *******
The females all spawn at the same time
A mussel is an indicator species,
Which in ecological terms means
That it is a species that will
The perfect indicator of the health
Of the river
The other things you need are
A river speculum
I haven’t made mine yet
But we used plastic ones
With glass cut to shape
But it enables you to see the river
The secret part of the secret river
It’s red down there
And it’s cold
The women of the water
They hide in the shadows under rocks
And burrowed deep
They can move very slowly across the river
A colony of mussels
When you find mussels
When you f
When you find a beautiful
When you find lots of them it’s
Good crook and this is where
You’ll find pearls
If you ask me the man who takes them is a good crook himself
And it’s I’m looking at it now and I can see
It with the moonlight on it
And it just it
But it’s tidal here it’s not fresh
I’d have to distil it myself
With copper pipes
When copper ages it turns blue
And you don’t weld copper
You braze it
Soldering at a high temperature
Mussels can live up to 150 years old
I held a 120-year-old one
And it was so wise and venerable
I didn’t know what to do
I couldn’t speak
She was alone
Down there in the red
The angry red water
She lived through
WW1 and 2
And women’s suffrage
My grandmother was alive two
I wore silk because it’s pure
And women are supposed to be pure
I can see it right now
And it’s just like little tiny mirrors
Little tiny mirrors that are reflecting light back
Speculum is the Latin for mirror
Maybe the water’s a mirror
But it’s tidal here so I’d have to distil it
Spectators of atrocity
And mussels they grow
With annual rings
They reach maturity around the
Age of 30
Like tree trunks
Like the hazel
That helps me to keep them
Catch them in its tangs
But I want to protect them
I am one
Little plaster shells
But I cracked one
And it wasn’t plaster
Split her in half
Not with tongs
Their linings bleed every month
It was a dark orange
Because of the peat that was draining into the water
But I have to protect them
Cause I am one.
Great Hollow She Home, the peacefully there's Mystery.
Dearly she labours.
Blood running, on to the summer flowers
WAIT till I come,
Left her, following low singing --
bare of everything
Let us go!
Go to the Devil!
Scorching heat and burning --
hang her by the neck
Thy trees mourned. She a Hollow labours....
Ah who was I that hidden from truly -----
Thy the end
Erected so obscure away.
Based on Aberdeen's history
Soul doesn't feel alone any more
"does soul have a duty?"
to spread message."
Soul cried yesterday.
*I don't know.
You threw a stone down the wishing well
And put your faith in a ceramic shell,
As the rock disturbed the water
You thanked the Lord, your Father.
Your ceramic shell is full of sand,
And you must obey every command.
In this I mean no disrespect,
But it has to be what you expect
For centuries you've tortured souls
Claiming it will save your own
If I don't believe in him,
That must be the greatest sin,
Worse than denying human beings
Of their own instinctive feelings
Can you blame me for my hate?
When you stole, murdered, lied and *****?
.........."But all that you need is Faith"
Sure it won't be popular but this is how I feel growing up in a previously hugely catholic country, which still affects Irish people's lives today.
I've seen bodies aching,
seeking to fill the void with
Sleeping under vibrant bouquets
of drowsiness and lethargy.
I can see the figure in my future
He's drowning in the plants of lust
But I should wait until that time.
I must, I must, I must.
I'm sinking into myself
Deeper and deeper
Until I'm so small
That you can fit me on your shelf
Stained lace and beloved
To keep them safe
Forever and ever
I hate human beings
(Well I felt like I did the night I wrote this)