Leviticus

Painting © Manuell Manastireanu, 2020

to Anne-Marie

 

We’d have peace if we meet

at a cemetery, she says,

 

but once there graves open,

the dead ask for headlines.

 

The good news is that I am

in the same place as Moses

 

walking around life when

sands shift. I reach my desert

 

retouching roots that match

the colour of parents’ home.

 

I forgot where they live now;

as close as my skin, as far as

 

a memory from when I was five.

There must be a house nearby

 

where someone stays awake

to warm up bottles of milk.

 

Instead of looking for it, I hold

a telescope aimed at the sky

 

marching past stray pebbles.

 

 

© Maria Stadnicka, June 2020

Midlands / Lockdown in Britain / Week #6

 

Photography © John Stadnicki, May 2020

The Small Print of Progress: Reaction to Action

Photo: © John Stadnicki, April 2020 / Gloucestershire, UK.

In 1997, Manuel Castells published The Power of Identity warning about the danger of globalisation in a world ill-equipped to control its own expansion. Castells criticised the UN, accusing the top bureaucrats of lack of action and misunderstanding of the nature of a global society facing unprecedented human migration, multi-national production chains, competition and artificial economic stimulation.

The book discusses the practical faults within our systems which promote geo-political competition on one hand, while economies are driven by inefficient externalised production chains, on another hand. Global market fragility and profit-driven progress have become realities which are now making the crisis triggered by the COVID-19 pandemic difficult to manage.

For over two decades now, the scientific community launched repeated warning that a pandemic was inevitable, but our socio-economic systems are still taken by surprise and unprepared for the current social, medical and economic challenges.

The pandemic undoubtedly offers a few lessons for us all. Lessons about what deserves to be trusted and valued, appreciated and developed mid and long-term. The principle of ‘Après moi, le déluge’ [‘after me, the flood‘] has become a danger threatening to destabilise, if not destroy, communities. If ‘a butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe’ (Edward Lorenz) then we need to accept the reality that we are as safe as the weakest among us. The way out of crisis comes from understanding the basic principles which brought up our chaos.

Photo: © John Stadnicki, April 2020 / Glocestershire, UK.

Governments have been fighting the COVID-19 pandemic for five months already, and their best shot at managing it is the fierce competition between research centres to produce their own test kits and vaccines. As borders shut between countries that, not long ago, had common economic interests, contracts for protective equipment are signed electronically. and the higher bidder wins. Always wins.

As the race for the next Nobel in medicine takes ground, communities struggle to make sense of what constitutes a necessary journey out in town, at a time when years of prosperity have been wiped off the economic whiteboard in a matter of days. It shows how fragile the system was in the first place, how easy it can be to undermine the stability of societies that got their priorities wrong. Across Britain, the political class has given itself another year in employment with local elections postponed until 7 May 2021 due to the coronavirus pandemic. The employed majority finds itself at the mercy of financial rescue packages, negotiating the small print of bureaucracy.

Unprecedented times, precedented actions.

© Maria Stadnicka, 23 April 2020


You can also read ‘Power to the Powerful’, February 2020.

 

A month in lockdown. Week #4 in Britain

 

Photography © John Stadnicki, April 2020

If hands could talk, what would they tell me?


Photography: © Nikoletta Monyok, 2019

Further information about Nikoletta Monyok’s work can be accessed here.

Gallery

Midlands / Lockdown Week #2

Photography: © John Stadnicki, April 2020, Gloucestershire, Midlands, United Kingdom.

Gloucestershire in Lockdown, April 2020

Photography: © John Stadnicki, April 2020


The photographs were taken on the way to local shops in Stroud and Gloucester, Midlands, Gloucestershire, UK. 1-2 April 2020.

Canine Laws

© Claire Palmer, 2019 ‘International Times’

A dog believes people are dogs as well.
To people, this is of no consequence.  Humans
are immune to associations, particularly to
associations with Evil; specially if the root of
their actions is Evil itself.

If a dog keeps running away from home, let
him free. He needs to find where the noise
comes from.

In canine terms, silence is an instrument for
torturing dogs who are no longer useful to
their masters. If asked, people would deny
knowledge of this.

Despite clocks, dogs measure time in
intervals passed between the end of
punishment and the beginning of wound
healing. Once the skin seals up, people
rewind the clocks.

It takes a lifetime to a dog to become
human, and three weeks to a human to
become beast.

© Maria Stadnicka, 2019. Published in International Times, 14/09/19.

 

Hollow Wean

 

Dear Sir,

a beauty company sent me an email,

‘We win, you win’ it said, invited me

to purchase youth serum at half price.

There is something I hate about emails

sitting black on white on screen:

comma after verb easily mistaken for

philosophical pause or breath taken

when reading poems aloud.

‘Please, do not reply’

it carried on ‘we hope to see you again.’

I have a hundred things to do but

rush to the bathroom to see how deep

the line cutting my glabellar region

has grown since I last checked.

A fair amount I notice. Others joined

the frontal network, showing people

how much I’ve won in forty years

of living too small, dreaming too big.

 

©Maria Stadnicka, 2018

 

Minor Voice

Photograph: ‘Air – 2018’, ©JStadnicki, 2018

 

to Robin Wheeler

…………………………………………

I saw a man leaving a water glass

at a junction where the elm tree,

he used to know,

had been suddenly cut down.

…………………………………………

©Maria Stadnicka, 2018