polemical poetry to prickle the politics of "permanent austerity"
thistles stretch their prickly arms afar
All the leaves were later this year
with the extended cold and snow.
And when the first buds burst open
delight and relief became one.
Now in full flush they shine and sway
in sunlight as they always should.
Yet so many seem to take this
for granted as they always do.
In a world turned upside down
by the monstrous greed of the few
there is little of permanence
and much more precariousness.
Late leaves mean zero hour contracts,
a shuffling people on the move
from one bedroom just too many
imposed by those in their mansions.
Late leaves like the merging season
should be telling us something true
to challenge the drift to darkness
where stunted trees produce no leaves.
By leaves we breathe, by leaves we live
and through our dumb disharmony
we threaten the leaves' appearance
where all their wealth then turns to dust.
Jim Aitken is a former English teacher who now tutors in Scottish Cultural Studies in Edinburgh. He is a poet and a dramatist as well as being a member of the Radical Independence Campaign. Aitken has written poetry pamphlets for Palestine Solidarity and for Stop The War. He also edited a poetry pamphlet by fellow teachers called Magistri Pro Pace. In 2012 the Scottish Federation of Socialist Teachers published the journal of his last year as an English teacher and EIS activist called The Last Calendar of Events. In 2013 he brought out a DVD of his poems called Our Foolish Ways, produced by First Reel Target. In 2014 his play Letters from Area C was produced by SpartaKi Theatre in Leith and earlier this year his play Leaving George, a play about Scotland’s Referendum, was produced again by SpartaKi for the Leith Festival. He has also had poems published in A Rose Loupt Oot (Smokestack, 2011) celebrating the UCS Work-in, edited by David Betteridge and in Scotia Nova, Poems for the early days of a better nation, edited by Tessa Ransford and Alistair Findlay 2014.
With all this sun these last few days
and the brightness late into the evening,
the sap has been rising with fresh scents
filling the air and colour bursting through.
And the whole world seems to have changed.
Colour begets colour and remaining buds
prepare for further grand entrances,
confirming the welcome arrival of Spring.
No with all these shades of green and blossom,
these pungent aromas after drizzles of rain,
the reasons for all this actually happening
recede to the point of never having been raised.
And the leaves and buds that become leaves
make me think of all the children that grow
through love, care and constant attention
while others wilt and wither through dark neglect.
Or while the adverse governance by the few
enable only the few to blossom and to shine,
the best of all possible governments
dispense nutrients that allow all to flourish.