Saturday, 28 December 2013

Earth's Heart

A conversation with the heart of the World…

The tears you weep
           I keep
              within
                 me
   they wake me at night
when it feels
  as if the Light
       has left
           us

for your heart
   is my heart
       I feel your pain
          as the soft grey rain
crying out for the caged ones
   the starving ones
            the unseen tragedies
                       the cruelties kept hidden
where polite people cannot know them
   but still they rise
         unbidden
as wailing ghosts in their nightmares

       their minds have blocked you out
     but their hearts are tied to you
  and must open to you

as a spear stabbed cruelly
  left me gasping
     fainting
on the edge of heartbreak
  your cries
my heart
   your heart
       trail them in their sleep
screaming them awake

 they try to drown them
             in a bottle of vodka
or a line off a mirror
        that stares emptily back up at them
or buy them off with false gold
 that next to your sunshine has barely a shimmer
   not even a glimmer
        of your beauty
              after the rain

they reason with logic
and big words to explain the injustice
divorced from emotion
    because it would hurt too much to feel
        the horror of your Real

if they thought before they ate
  and saw the misery on their plate
     they would choke in guilt and shame
and so they choose not to know
   what “civilisation” daren’t show
they look away
   and shadows
cloud over the day

the killing for fun
because they’re taught we’re not one
      Earth which spells heart
  how can they even think we’re ever apart?
  oh!
      my heart
          your heart
 beats within mine
      in time
 with the song of our dream

    as a stream
will eventually meander down to the sea
  oh heart
    my heart
 their hearts
will still open
    and
weep with me
  that the beasts
the innocent
    should be wild and free

Christine Jordaan, 2013
© 2017


    
 










Saturday, 16 November 2013

Heal the fracture between the Land and the People

I first came into contact with Kenesias Dambakurima when I saw him reading my poem For the Fallen  outside the Chinese consulate in Cape Town as part of the Flowers for Them campaign for Qumquat, the matriarch elephant whose whole herd was gunned down in October 2012.

He contacted me some time after that to say he would like to read my poems aloud to his children, and on an album.  I was touched and humbled.

I tried to write something that he could read to us all in Africa.  Change is desperately needed.  We have a beautiful continent which is being raped.

If anybody is familiar with the Grail Quest of Arthurian legend... the Wounded King represents the split between Sovereignty (the Goddess/land) and the people.
Ecopsychology takes it out of the mythical realms into everyday language of how damaged the human psyche is because we have lost contact with the land.

So Kenesias, dear warrior... this is for you


and for every African of every race, creed, and nationality.

Its beyond time to heal. Its urgent.

Return to Self
Come,
my people,
    leave the shadows  at the edge of the darkness,
     draw close around the fire,
Night is falling
  and Winter has come,
it is now time
  to reclaim our Sacred

Let me tell you of the Lady of Africa
 of our vast, precious, dear lands
see Her face in these flickering flames
   smell Her in this woodsmoke wisping up to the marula tops
       know Her in the pure wildness of Her steaming tropical forests              
            where a thousand species live their destinies each day            
 the still peace of Her deep secret lakes
      the height of Her dreaming peaks
          the solitude of Her burning red sands
the baobab trees and grey thunderclouds
       a dried river bed awaiting the summer rains
   the Savannah FULL of LIFE

but She is chained
   She has been caged
like a beautiful Lady locked away in a whorehouse
     being pimped by Fat Greedy Men

There is an evil holding the world in sway
    a cancer,
         festering,
pacing the corridors of power
    It feeds on misery
despair, cruelty, and bloodlust

It manifests in trafficking, rape,
     and mutilation of the Innocent,
the way we are allowing our lands
      and our animals to be treated
is a symptom of this sickness,
            the dis-ease
because we have drifted apart from our Earth Mother
and forgotten the sacred songs
       we have left the Lady’s light
           and are lost in the darkness  

She desperately needs us
   to return to Her
and to rebirth ourselves as Africans
   of all races and creeds
beyond the borders of nationalities

I am a MAN of Africa
     I am as strong as ebony,
  as the rocks of Motopos,
       and as an elephant bull charging,
I am the thunder booming on a sultry hot afternoon,
I am the river throwing myself off the edge
carving through Her gorges,
      I have broken off the shackles
    and am standing tall again

A fire is raging deep in the heart of Africa
   in the city homes and the bushveldt huts,
fan the flames and let them grow,
     burn and purify the land,
drums are beating in Her veins and my Heart,
pulsing,
DEMANDING a new direction


      
I call upon my brothers, 
my sons and daughters to come back to the land,
     this land that bore us and will save us,
Mothers tell your children our ancient stories
do not let them wander unprotected and lost
        split from our soul
which is held in the Dreaming of the Lady



We are AFRICANS
   and must WANT to be proud  again
to renew our bond with each other and Her
      and recognise we are Her champions,
our duty and honour is to protect Her
            to fight for what is right

Teach our children to sing and dance under starlight again
         the white-gold dusting of stars in our skies,
     trace the well-trodden footpaths in the veldt,
celebrate the beasts here with us,
    let us remember we are stewards of Earth
and be wise and gentle in our dealings with them,
it is an outrageous crime against the Lady 
that OUR wildlife is being farmed like cattle
   or butchered for their ivory or horns,
these are OUR lions – part of OUR souls
they live in us and we live in them,
the humble beasts belong in the bush
to be free to live out their destiny
as the Lady dreamt at the beginning,
they ARE Africa as we are
if we lose them WE will be lost forever
                                                                                                                
For I feel them within me
and when you return to Her
you shall too..
rejoice in the elephants long walk to the pans
feel the lions grunting at dusk echo in our souls
thrill to the eagles soaring overhead

Why do we let the Darkness oppress us
    as a beast trapped in a snare?
this is OUR Africa
    we are MILLIONS
they are few,
  if they carry on unchecked we will starve
   or die in despair,
TOGETHER we can call for a new way of being
            here in harmony with the Lady

Why do we let them keep the Lady in chains
like a dam trying to hold back the mightiest of rivers?
let the river break free of Man’s selfish plans
let it once more bring the life giving silt to the floodplains

Those breeding death and keeping the Sad chained

     is THIS how WE think OUR land should be used?
         for a selfish, sadistic few to get rich

from the suffering and death of OUR Innocent beasts


        why is OUR land the destination of choice
     for foreign murderers who awaken each day to rejoice in killing OUR wildlife? 
and then taking their heads home to mount on their walls to boast to their friends how they have killed a piece of OUR Africa?

these farmers of death and misery
   hiding behind their guns and lies of conservation
are they not the same that would have kept us enslaved?
our beautiful land divided by colour,
   a pathetic excuse to make themselves feel bigger by keeping us down

Come my people,
    we have been on a journey
      you and I
         and the Lady,
we have been through the darkness of oppression
  the despair of injustice
       and we have lost ourselves


but not all is yet lost
perhaps it was a necessary part of the journey to find ourselves
to make us stronger
and realise we have the power to rewrite our own stories
with Hers
AMANDLA!

Look up
  at the huge clear African skies
     the stars are shining down for us
there is light in the darkness
    let us journey
      back to Self
         and to Her

Set Her free
Cleanse the brutal Horror of the death camps of innocent, despairing animals
Clean the rivers - they are the veins of our Lady
The forests are Her temples - do not chop or burn them
End the violence  - it feeds the Darkness
Reclaim and protect OUR natural heritage


BAN all canned AND trophy hunting
BAN export of all trophies
BAN all trade in animals and their parts
BAN all GM crops
BAN all circuses with animals
BAN blood sports

© 2017


                                                          Dawn always comes ... in the end...

by Christine Jordaan, 2013

 I need to find the photo credits of the lions, and the poached ellies... they are not mine.  Please contact me if you know of them.
   





Sunday, 10 November 2013

Back home to KZN

Out of the forest…. back to South Africa.

Got back late on 26th Oct... saw this elephant on the way home... broke my heart the way he dashed away....




What a crazy month. On 27th Oct I got a lift across the bay to Maputo to lay flowers for the elephants outside the Chinese embassy, along with the rest of the world.  Beautiful weather… and dolphins came to say hello.

After not one second of sleep the whole night…. I went to the embassy. Not one single person had responded positively to the idea of protesting with me.  So it was just me with my poster of Qumquat and white flowers, dressed in white for mourning.  Crazy taxi ride with a great driver playing 50s music and couldn’t speak too much English.  Such an edgy, exposed feeling on the pavement outside the embassy.  Traffic buzzing past, this big impersonal complex…. the guard called down a Chinese lady who emphatically refused that I laid my flowers inside or outside.  I knew if I left them there the guard would immediately move them.  I felt like I was bashing my head against a brick wall as I showed her the poster of Qumquat and the taxi driver was translating in Portuguese that the Chinese ivory carving factories were responsible for these deaths.  This horrible hard person, this filthy city…. this Chinese machine grinding along… wrecking our Earth….  so impersonal, so metallic…
I wanted to cry, I wanted to smack her, I wanted to rage and jump into the traffic.
I bit my lip and my tears back and jumped back into the taxi with 50s music and asked him to find a park.

As we were driving through the traffic, busy, busy, cars hooting, jumbled impressions, dirt, crippled beggars, the poshest 4x4s, street vendors, fruit…. I looked up at the sky trying to still this dread feeling in the pit of my stomach and I saw a white steeple reaching up into the overcast grey….
I asked the driver to stop.  I jumped out totally trusting him with all my luggage, pc, camera, phone lying on the back seat, and as I walked up the wide steps of this church I felt peace descending like a veil in my mind being pulled back…. 
Kneeling at the top of the steps praying to Spirit I found a measure of calm, knowing we are part of a cycle that is playing out … day/night, dark/full moon, winter through to Spring. 


All of this pain, this horror is part of a journey of Earth Mother, humankind, and the beloved beasts who have somehow in their kindness agreed to be part of our lessons.  I only pray we do not descend further….   our role as Lightworkers is to keep the fires burning in our souls and have faith in a Divine plan.  Maybe this whole darkness is our journey to Light…. without chaos we would not be able to get there. 

When I came down the taxi driver had my camera in his hands and tears in his eyes – totally connecting with me on this journey.  


He dropped me off at the marina where I had to wait for a lift back across the bay.  But back I dropped to utter panic… the water was so choppy and grey, gulls swooping….   pc and cel phone battery were almost flat, I watched the tide go out and come back in….  another cycle…  I wondered if it were self-forgiveness I was asking for too on the church steps…

After a while the dhows sailing in soothed me… they totally trust the tides and winds to bring them safely home….  a sailor has total faith…. 


The water turned to liquid grey metal
the clouds lifted
my lift arrived
and I had the most awesome boat ride home….  blue-green water, flamingos, sun bursting through grey clouds….



That day I decided to pack up 10 years of my life and leave the day after next.

How hectic….   saying goodbye to Abel, in his 80s and full of fascinating stories...


a last sunset on the bay, goodbye to my forest, driving for the last time through the elephant reserve…. 

the road of course had to be a bit underwater just to remind me ...



And now back in KZN for the next chapter… 



Friday, 25 October 2013

The Horror of Us

When I was weeping for Qumquat the tears were pouring down my cheeks.
I was drawn up into the foetal position while the storm lashed at me from the outside.
When I cursed the ivory carver, sitting in the forest, I was so angry my nails cut blood into my palms,
dripping into the sand of the forest.

But this canned lion horror is different. It is a sick, nauseating, dizziness.  These are supposedly my people  (how utterly shameful) – not some poacher living in the forest. These are white people living on a farm waking up and eating breakfast and there are lions living in cages on their land, on Death Row. There are children living in those death camps, nonchalantly eating breakfast within close range of the Sad.  This is not the horror of Them. I cannot neatly put it away there with the horror of Them.

This is the horror of Us. What to do? The horror is inside me, talking to my shadow. I can only split apart from the inside. 
What will be left of me? It’s in me!

Prowling, angry, snarling at the edge of my light now burning brightly, now faltering…. 
it’s with me in the shower, in the dark hours…

It simply wants me. It wants my light, my pure. It wants to feed on it.
And I’m so tired. Maybe I could just go lie down there like a zebra calf, and wait for the neck blow. It will all be over. Why fight it? Maybe it could just be enough, this day, today, I just say enough pain. I really do not want to feel anymore, I can’t, I just cannot cry another tear.

Or I could say fuck you, you big horrible ugly bully coward!

How can I fight this big ugly bully of a man keeping lions in cages so his bank balance can grow by some foreign coward coming to shoot them so he can take their heads home to stick on his wall and boast about his hunt in Africa. How can his wife sleep with him – this dirty murderer – or does she only care for the endless visits to the hair stylists and plastic surgeons… never realising in that vacant cotton candy head that no amount of fucking with the outside will ever make the inside beautiful.

Your home, my lady, is a Death Camp. You are keeping the Free in chains. The price you will pay is unmentionable. There is a consciousness that someone like you just cannot comprehend.
And it is growing… the animals are communicating their pain along the astrals… you wonder why SA is such a violent country – look at what warden masters you are.

This is the energy you are anchoring here in this land…

keeping the free chained in misery
breeding slaves into the system
betraying them for some coward to shoot in a cage after you have drugged them or used dogs
and then after their heads go to some twit’s wall
you sell the bones and skins to China…

Is your nail polish, your hair streaks…. empty evil Queen of the West - is it worth the pain and bloodshed and betrayal?

And finally I confront him…


Lord of the Manor…
he walks in – the personification of all that was evil in my childhood and even now
tall
thick legs
strong presence
the damsel in me is tempted
he could just lift me away
I could lay my head on his chest
if I just believed in him
like I used to
shaking

aha! but now I know the lie
step back
feel the misery seeping out of the cages
feel the death circling overhead

the Ugly
the Hard
the Greedy
the Bloodshed

can’t take the lies
can’t take the horror
turn to the mirror and fire the trigger

Christine Jordaan, 2013

Monday, 14 October 2013

For everybody who loves the animals....


A Blessing for the Eco-Warriors

Earth
   Mother,
    these hearts
      these weary, aching hearts
they break anew each day
   a thousand ways
these brave warrior hearts
     bleed for the animals
          and You

Please lend us strength to handle the horror
that we might stay strong
   Guide us in our actions to take
       inspire us on our paths
that we may have Heaven on Earth
the way You meant it to be

Angels stay with us
  protect us on our journey
     bathe us in Light
these weary Warriors
    fighting the good fight

when all is Dark
   and our flame flickers and sputters
let us know Faith
    and healing with love
Yours
   and our own

When we look ahead and see a barren Earth
 dead and empty of the beloved beasts
remind us of winter
    and the seed
deep underground
   which always blossoms in glorious color
when You have decreed

When we feel hatred
and would become less
   remind us
that only through love
    can we transmute the evil

Shine down
   the silver-gold violet ray of transmutation
and a waterfall of stardust of love and inspiration
    on this faltering Earth

Bless and protect all these healer-warriors
 and when it all feels too much
   let us lay our tired heads and aching hearts
       down on your Earth body to rest in your stillness
          and let the birds sing us to a place deep within
where we know everything will always be ok
    because You are always
       here
         with
            Us

(Christine Jordaan, 2013)

I have decided to ask this blessing each day for you and for me to help us with the horror - you could all join me... and this energy will build up like a golden pool on the inner planes where we can go drink... and also visualise the silver-gold violet ray of transmutation which transmutes wounds into wisdom.... and dark into light.... shining down non-stop on Earth 
this crazy planet spinning through the multi-verse

I hear the Satanists pray every day for the evil to continue ruling Earth.
I love the way Muslims incorporate prayer throughout their day.

So this love of animals is an attitude, a wish, a prayer...
Its a way we live here on Earth
And the horror we have to somehow bear
is easier when its shared

Before I used to keep my spiritual musings and writings on another blog... but its only when we heal the rift in our psyche caused by our split from nature and the Sacred, will Heaven come to Earth.
We need to bring the Sacred into our daily lives and doings....
   and see nature as Sacred ground....
then there is just no way we could kill it or pollute it
torture it, maim it, wear it....

Be blessed.



Saturday, 12 October 2013

Unbearable Pain

They cut you,
precious you,
  peeling away your skin
your life
   as you lay just alive in agony
utterly shocked at the horror
of
   Us

All this pain so some empty human could wear your skin
next to theirs for the pleasure and the status

for their pleasure and vanity
you died,
precious you,
with the horror of
Us
in your consciousness from your birth to your gruesome torturous end

What a miserable life you were bred into
neglected
unfed
unloved
cold
huddled in terror
you waited
to meet your grand destiny 
that Mankind the Civilized had in store for you

and humanity became a little less human this day
that they peeled your skin
your life
away
while you lay just alive in agony
utterly shocked at the horror
of
   Us.

Christine Jordaan (2013) 

The picture that I wrote this about... I could not post... I can't look at it.  Its too unbearable to look at.

What are we doing to the animals??



Lament of Gaia


It was Springtime
   and you were a child in my forests
        in awe at the splendor of the towering trees

I gave you rainbows to smile at after the storm
   and butterflies when you slipped and fell down
       a whole garden of friends in all shapes and sizes
with feathers, and fur
     scales and claw
      so much for you to love
            and to love you

I sob now
  those forests are torn down 
      and tears of acid raining on dead ground

You have grown away from me
   slipping into a treeless realm
where my soft sunlight cannot reach you
  I sing to you on the evening breeze
but you have built walls to shut me out
     and discord has entered the lands

In this,
  the autumn of my being
   the colors are fading fast
I am wilting,
   dying
my meadows are silent
   empty
but for your ghosts walking the dreams
  of happy summertimes

My waters are poisoned
      shadowed and grey
  the merry ones do not leap and dive
all is empty and dead
 choking in plastic
   and foul green slime
vomited up by your industries into my once crystal clear rivers

Will nobody save me?

Where is my Love
  in this twilight of my story
     where on Earth do You linger
  
     My heart?

Do you lie dreaming on the tides of yesteryear
    locked in a  happier embrace with me?
       are you lost in what could have been

have you seen
what they are doing to Me?

Awaken!
    Night draws near
cloudy and cold
  I have need of you

Hold up your sword
   and fight the good fight
defend your non-human brethren

as I gave you my flesh and fruit
 my Sweet
   as I sheltered you
now awaken the Son within
   to shelter them

or else
   I am lost

I will sink back on these dead petals in despair
     and winter will come
but this time it will not give way to spring

    No, I will become ice
you will not know me
   and then I will crack
      torn apart by the lack of You
as my heart is tearing now

   I will be no more
     not even a whisper
for no voices will be left to sing of me

you will be gone
  abandoned your form
      perhaps found a new heart

All will be dead
      lost
my beauty forgotten

Or shall I erupt in wrath as a woman scorned
    lash out in rage
        great burning rivers of gold
pour down with ash and mud
    until I have covered every last sign of you
        the mockery you have built
these monuments to your vanity
     towering high
they will crash and crumble
    back into dust

You have ripped away my forests
torn the heart out of my body
    consuming all
leaving nothing for your animal family
the beautiful fabric I weaved for you
was full of life and joy
    now it is rent with bloodstained gaping holes

the horror
    the despair
         seeping
slowly covering all
   is almost too much to bear

Come back to me
   come back to me
come dance again in my fields and flowers
   bring your harps
      your words
and love me with music in the moonlit hours

it is nigh midnight
   we’re on the brink
you and I

   shall we go plummeting down
or soaring up high
to a new way of being
  here
   in love
together again

it is possible
   if you could learn to share
     and care
harming none
  if you could just realise that
       All is One

Christine Jordaan (2013)

© 2017






Wednesday, 9 October 2013

For all the fallen gentle giants

Qumquat,
 you will not come down to drink today
   nor tomorrow
       nor any day
  the birds are missing your gentle presence
       in the cool forest glades
          at the heat of midday

You are now a memory
  a dream of the trees and savannah
    an echo of a song the wind whispered to the sun
        of a picture She painted when the world was born
Your well-worn trails lead now
   to sad empty spaces
     down at the river at dawn

Qumquat and all the Fallen
     we mourn you
you were gentle and humble
    asking nothing
        except to live
free as is your birthright
   we mourn you

You are gone
     cruelly murdered in greed
tusks sawn from you
     lives torn from you
left in the dust
    in agony
        to bleed

Qumquat,
you will not raise your trunk to the sky again
   to smell for the cool summer rains
or lead your trusting family safely
through the golden-green plains
your noble silhouette is missing
against the setting African sun      
     the full Moon shines down for you
but you are gone
     you are gone

Qumquat,
   we honour your spirit as a pure chord
sung in a Divine chorus of birdsong
as a brilliant green ray on the rainbow
      after the storm
the light of the world is now muted
   even the stars look dimmer and forlorn

We are the richer for you having been amongst us
and the poorer for your passing

And if at all you watch over us
   from a place much kinder to you and yours
       please forgive us
and in these darkening days
     send the angels down to light the way     
        Home.

Qumquat and all the Fallen
     we mourn you
you were gentle and humble
    asking nothing
        except to live
free as is your birthright
   we mourn you

© 2017


 Christine Jordaan, 2013

Friday, 4 October 2013

Maputo Elephant March 04 October 2013, Mozambique


Today I marched for the elephants.
I marched for the right of a species to simply carry on living

And I marched too for my soul
the right of my soul to dance in joy in the full ecosystem that Nature gifted to humans
not to just exist in the barren wasteland that Mankind is creating
And I marched for the right of my son to grow up with elephants as part of the human psyche
not with their memory a story to be told with regret and too-late-tears

And I marched for all the other beings in all shapes, colours, and sizes
who are suffering under Man’s occupation and dominion of Earth

And as I marched
with the sweat pouring into my eyes
and the drumbeat of Africa inside me and around me
proudly holding my banner high
I do not think that in all the colourful chaos
anyone noticed the tear slip from my eye

Today I marched for the elephants
with adults and children
of all races and creeds
in 43 cities around the Earth
we marched for the Gentle Giants

Brutally slaughtered tusks hacked from their faces whilst still alive
in front of calves who traumatised often do not survive
whole herds gunned down or their waterholes poisoned with Death
     WE CANNOT LET ELEPHANTS DRAW THEIR LAST BREATH

Today I marched for the elephants
and for the integrity and compassion of humanity
and which needs to now SHOUT OUT and say NO MORE!


We left at 5.30am today on 2 speedboats across the bay of Maputo...




Thankfully it was beautiful weather.

Enoques Zavala coaching our chants

On our way...


Waiting at UEM still practicing our chants

Thanks Patricia Guerra for organising sponsors for our awesome T-shirts..





                                                     
                                                 Rodolfo Cumbane from MSR




What do we want... save elephants... when do we want it - NOW!!










 Who does ivory belong to?  Elephants!!














Home at the end of the day... sunburnt but exhilarated...






Thankyou to Enoques Carlos Zavala - my co-plotter and thankyou to all our wonderful sponsors, without whom this would not have been possible:

Athol Emerton, Luis Kanje, Wayne Fraser, Construa, Sargres Restaurant, Kevin Fleischer,

and Armando Guenha, Rodolfo Cumbane, Patricia Guerra, Laurie Gill, Roy Jansen van Rensburg, Karel Meyer, Anifa Bacar, and Bruce King for all their kind assistance.

And to all my Machangulo marchers the Elephant Warriors
and to every person in Maputo that joined us!

And to the OccupyforElephants people for inspiration and moral support!

LOVE you guys!! 

No more cutting our forests for dirty oil.  
We have all the technology we need to live sustainably WITH the Earth not OFF it.
Stay OUT of the Arctic!
All other species have just as much right to be here as we do. We do not own them or Earth.
And HELL NO to GM crops!

Next march?? BAN Canned Lion Hunting 15 March 2014 - SEE YOU THERE!