Let’s Beat Cancer Sooner…

After recovering from summer onwards (I made my 2018 target and more). I am going into 2019 to do more of the same where I can get it.   I am busy preparing in a bomb shelter of a craft room, and I am up to me arm pits in paint.  I have an event in February for Cancer Research UK –  https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/anita-nabonne… or FB

Advertisements

I’M SO CLOSE – HELP me round off 2018 and my JustGiving target of £1,000! Let’s beat cancer sooner. Would you support me in raising funds – every little bit helps – even the price of your next coffee?

Hi,

I’m using the run up to the holidays to ask friends for their support and ask if you would donate a small amount by using my donation button below (any country) or text BGON64 to 70070 (for those here in the UK) to give whatever you can (even the price of a solitary cuppa) to help Cancer Research and Breast Cancer Research. As a breast cancer survivor, I can sincerely say that your help is more than appreciated.

Cancer Research is not government funded and is responsible for a high percentage of the major breakthroughs we have seen to date.   One of those drugs saved my life. Without you and me, those breakthroughs will not happen. Regardless of the amount or where you live in this world, your generosity will one day give the gift of life.

On the JustGiving page, you will find verification. It will also tell you all about my story, reasons and action plan I’ve used and for the foreseeable future.  As you will read, I had a set back due to illness, but will be continuing and getting out there in 2019!

Thank you very much!

Anita

 

 

Notification brings me in

I’m apparently celebrating  three years of WordPress, which also means, I am reminded of the reason for my blog and the bare, three years without my dad.  But, please, when you find yourself there, do not despair;  remember that life happens.  It is what it is.  Enjoy your life, regardless.  I know he would be thrilled that I have embraced more than he ever saw as an inclination within me.  I got married.  I continued to write, became published, even became the activist in word and deed.  He always saw that, but I did not.

I don’t have it in me at present to write.  I could reblog, but for me, that doesn’t always  matter.   What does matter is that the souls of the young are not tarnished, not disillusioned by life in whatever form it manifests.   I can just ask from experience that you – love it, live it, create, and be your best to help this world and those that inhabit it.  We are ALL sentient beings with feelings.  To that end, we must campaign, build a better life for us and those without a voice.  We need to campaign,  petition and nag our political parties to eradicate endless suffering of us and our animal counterparts.   We should not be allowed to rule with impunity… simply because we can!  Climate change is real as is death and taxes.  Learn from it.  Use it.  If only to leave behind common decency.

Golden yellow cups
dressing the fields in harmony
soon drowned in water

Tickets Please!

Chances should come with stickers –
carrying instructions, like which buttons to press,
which way to turn
and how to survive those innocuous bouts
of life that intercede,

with their damp edges that peel way
and which always leave me stuck,
with nought but a panoply of wetness;

extremities made of stodge and glue,
at the very point where I thought
my life would start, until
I’d always dig a bit more,
only to find I had no real chance at all.

So, I have nothing.
On most days, I lift a dirty nail
to scape that crimped and lifeless
pape mache, only to reveal
the plastic drudge of the rain soaked window,
on this bus going nowhere –

to be fair, this bus takes me places
while I sleep, and feel safe,
and where I can sometimes peep under the skirtings
of life’s bitter edge without having
to peel it away.  Most days.

Ultimately, the traffic of heavy breath
unwittingly peels away the crudities
waiting for me once I get off;
such is the nature of rain soaked passengers
and do gooders all mixing to make my life hell.

Microplastics – Grains of Humanity #Rant/Haiku

 

I’ve just watched a documentary about the plastics devastation to our world.  Cheap, strong, light…. deadly.  Decades into this nightmare is seeing the prolonged use and production and the research of such manifest.   By now the consumption by marine life all the way up the food chain not only kills and maims, it has long since seeped into their>our deadly diet.  New findings reveal that plastic for some reason carries bacteria that is both harmful to us and marine life.

Small clean up groups and small innovations will not be able to attack fully or kill this giant disaster; global action from wealthy governments need to turn off single use plastic taps and invest in saving planetary life.  When the ocean dies, we die.   It is monstrous what we continue to pump into the oceans each day.  Despite added pressure by us the consumer on huge industries, experts reckon that production is set to rise by a massive 500% a year as we go forward.  The more we do is countermanded by this greed, ineptitude of big business.  Governments whether in denial or corruption based leave peoples no other option than to send their waste to the nearest rivers due to the lack of effective recycle or sanitary conditions.

And here in the west, we do it too!  We need global action, guidelines and enforcement.  Now.    This scourge has travelled to the far, far reaches that scientists find mind boggling.  From the Antarctic, the north and south poles, to life in seas so deep, that we are only just discovering vast species that live there… they are all stuffed with harmful pieces of plastics and microplastics (material no bigger than 1mm).

A huge proportion of birds fail take off due to the weight of plastic in their stomachs.  Birds feed plastic to their young every second we breathe.   Birds are a main source in gathering this vital information.  Shocking, disgusting and heart wrenching are just some of the words used by renowned scientists today.

We ought to be doing a whole hell of a lot more.  Educate ourselves more.   We can never live without certain plastics by now, but with the amount of resources floating around this planet today , it is shocking how little is being done, and how much by those who have nothing!  We need to share that and put an end to this and harmful single use, extraneous objects we do not need –  if we care to at least save some semblance of a future for our great, great grandchildren.

But to be honest, I care more about the other sentient life forces on this planet that we have cruelly disrupted than I do the former.  Hunted to extinction, garrotted by deadly plastics, suffering malnutrition due to heavy consumption of plastics on a daily basis.  Numerous species are being wiped out.  Whales torn in two by fisherman loath to adapt to new innovations and dumping their gear – a major killer and torturer of marine life.

Fishing gear and debris is a main source of cruelty and death in the oceans today.  Imagine young marine life ie young seals struggling to live, breathe, grow and feed whilst being strangled by plastic wires around their necks until they are decapitated.  Apply that to almost every contributor on this planet, going about their lives in this way, because of us.  All whilst we get on with every day things, from school, gas bills to the death of our dog, while drinking from our one hundredth, unnecessary, shop bought plastic bottle that we survived pretty well without for most of our lives.  This planet encompasses all of that.  But know that research has yet to unlock what effects to our hormones, reproduction and other this plastic epidemic is having on us – and also, if we cannot eat the food we hunt…  Already other sentient beings are showing signs of all of this.  This nightmare.  Use the tools we have.  Become educated.  Act!

We (humanity) are yet another blip on this planet – worth seconds in the scheme of things. Yet, we have been the most deadly and poisonous one.

Once soft were oceans
We are deadly assassins
Oh misery, we

Thank you for reading, and I hope it encourages a lot of you to ‘do’, create and instil in others the most basic of change.  Join this global revolution and take the time to learn what you might achieve, ie do not buy single use plastic, petition companies, change your habits.  Find out all you need to do.   This is so huge it is the stuff of nightmares.

 

Smells

St.Bruno-smoking kills-writingasitcomes

I have a section in my blog called Ghosts from the Shoebox.  I took some verse, accidentally stumbled on, and kept writing.  Anyway, ’tis there, lol.   My dad smoked a pipe, and in it he stuffed St Bruno pipe tobacco, which I loved the smell of and crave it now.  Probably why I became a smoker. But in November 2018 it will be 10 years since I stopped smoking, and 3 years since my dad died.  With my husband in the US for a family visit and me dwelling as the day is resting, here I am.  My dad is the reason for my blog to begin with. So bear with me .  And ever the activist, please, please do not be tempted to smoke, take drugs or anything you are curious about.  It is not worth it!

Newspaper clippings,
old stories spilled on the floor.
No smoke, no cigar.

All good stories emanate from
tall skinny houses
with their cracked secrets
and crumbling walls?

Great monologues
came from those giant shoeboxes
and pipe tobacco –
the houses I have left

to tobacco flakes
from an old St Bruno tin –
they inherit occupancy.

There are no rooms for emptiness
or spaces for grief.
There rarely is smoke
without heartache.

Bleeding Selfish

                                            Indonesian rainforests-Writingasitcomes

A rumble of silence creeps
into the veins of
tangible pain, numbing senses
temporarily
while corruption still tortures.

Our touch contaminates
until we sicken
nature’s soft noise –
drowning against
humanity’s sonorous roar –
animals need to sleep
amid our mess.

Tribes and wildlife and ecosystems need to exist –
amid our mess, not endure enforced extinction.
We have made some
of the biggest mistakes
of our existence.
But we are who we are,
and mistakes will happen
until we are no longer here…
amid our mess.