The Slick Machine

For a while now I’ve been writing a poem, based on a haiku with a 5-7-5 syllable format. It’s been a way often of expressing both frustration and hope and it’s really helped me to contain annoyance at times. Some days I need to write more than one verse. This is the one I wrote this morning.

It feels more obscene,
The sound of the slick machine
When close to the ground

PR platitudes
Slick lines produced in meetings
To sell the machine

We must stay centre
We are the stars of the show
The real ‘master’ minds

I’m feeling a bit torn. I’m seeing the local institution use more of the language we use and i should be happy about that, but I don’t.
‘come as you are’ was an invite sent out this week, but they don’t really mean that. If you dare to disagree then you’re not really welcome. Dissent is not welcome, only cheerleading.
I received an email this week entitled, Dear Friend, from someone I’d never heard of before and if I wanted to reply it was to an inbox. How’s that friendly? Perhaps it’s a genuine attempt to make changes and like a toddler, learning to walk, they are stumbling. If that’s the case why don’t they ask for help and support in making the changes? There are loads of people who could help. Why are they so proud? What are they scared of? Do they know that it’s time for hospice?