Two Freedom Poems by Fiona Cameron, Paris

Crime and Punishment,Paris September 12, 2011 23:08


as shared at a PenTales event in Paris

Listen to the Story!

Freedom #1

From darkness, to LIGHT
And 24 hours of freedom.
We dance,
we fly,
we fuck like crazy,
and then
we die.


Lifted high, and lowered to the ground…. she steadies herself on the table
edge, gripping the starched white cloth, focussing on the highly polished silver
ornaments and implements, before her hands are smacked off… a clap like a
starting gun.
With a falling motion away from stability… she regains her footing realising this
huge new world in front of her… to be discovered… now.… with speed – across
the dining room, and the deep red swirls of the capet under her feet. She goes
around and around, then under the table where no one can catch her. The big
people order her out, and tell her to behave….. she pauses…. waits, then makes
a dash for the blue room, through the glass doors, under the chandelier, and a
million shining stars all bunched up together… free at last from the world built to
suit the big people and their sophisticated suppers – in this place where people
want you to sit still and be quiet… this space is awesome from down there…
but just for 30 short seconds – before she’s swept up – and pinned back in to her
high chair – and the more ordered world.

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