Deb Curreen Author

 Even in the rain, I still love you, as your damp fingertips twist in my hair,  and my footsteps sink in the sand beside the waves of home. It was only yesterday, the sun slept on our shoulders, leaving red burns of welcome as I dozed within your sandy arms where we lay, solitary, until night while a familiar breeze continued whispering across our skin.   But today it rains, driving us away from the warmth and comfort, of the place we call home. The windy roads pulling us indoors, behind silent, rainswept windows, where I mutter curses at the weather gods, harbingers of disappointment, and reality arrives.   But behind it all, as I shiver against your cold expanse, even in the rain, I will always love you, Long Beach.  

 Currently the world is divided in many ways. We have the two sides of politics raging in every country around the world, with racism or cultural differences being big voting cards. Religion is a big deal, especially with the war in Gaza/Israel, with the "right wing radicals" and "liberal lefties".  The radicalness of either side or party, differs from country to country though they both sharing an ever increasing violence and hatred towards each other. The personal opinions and preferences held by people are causing huge strains, making it harder to "love thy neighbour as thyself", when our neighbour is so different from us. The mainstream media, i.e. TV, newspapers, etc. send mixed messages like never before, depending which paper your read or channel you watch. But now we have social media with it's hinky algorithms that constantly bombard and dictate our "feeds" with updates, news and articles, a lot of it fake news and misleading titles ...

                                                        Photo: Hugh O'Connor - "8 good reasons"  I will go down to the beach today, down to the sea on those craggy rocks to stare the waves down, dip my toes in ice cold pacific blue water, to dream for a while and remember you. I will walk alone across the chilly rocks, and stare at a silent ocean that shivers and roils, at the time and tide that is waiting for me. I will find the darkest rock to perch on and hold your life in my arms, as memories of you gather around me,  singing to me in time with the gentle waves lapping at my feet, while the pining seagulls drift on the arctic winds of winter overhead, I imagine the winds blowing down from Ireland today,  I don't know if that's even true. But this is an ode, and we're Irish, so we can say whatever we want to. 🍀 💛💚💘🍀 I will sta...

 the words of winter, hang, stay, freeze, warm stay again. my friend wrote about seasons, winter was long, and frost creeps into my brain, cartoon icy fingers, long and grey-blue, like icicles in the morning. Brittle, cold to touch, avoid if you can. 💘💙💥💦💟🐞🍀 I spent winters away from home, water pipes froze, fires stuttered and I did not have enough socks to cover my toes. I never imagined chills like this inside my bones startling my brain. Winter wass human fog stealthily invading your home at night. 💦💟🐞🍀💘💙💥 Alas, it ends. The friend who lives with us, first uninvited, then welcomed in all it's magnaminous glory, white-cold dawns, with clear blue days, that gently follows us about ... the silent companion, whispering promises of Spring, bring bright flowers and heady fragrances... until finally we cheerily wave, "Good-bye Winter," and secretly wish it doesn't come back too soon.

                                                 Image by  Giani Gheorghe  from  Pixabay  I have a friend, she's a Collapsologist, and before you laugh... there's such a thing they are for real, and here's what they do- measure the state of the Earth's collapse. I have a compassion certificate, it's real too. It says something like, I'm nice to everyone, all the time, day or night, it makes no difference. Collapse and compassion, they both get close to danger, they both get shot at, and the world still crumbles at their feet. "We have to take that danger shot," I tell my friend, as she crouches on the beach, measuring the rate of seaweed death. She picks up plastic rubbish when I go to feed the homeless, I pick up lives. Collapsologists help the planet to breathe, I help humanity eat. "The world is crying out for rescue," says my friend, the Co...

 I refuse to rant and get on the internet for a good old moan, or stay home laminating the state of a crumbling world as fresh rain masks the sun, and liberty begins to drown a little more each day. I won't waste my words on all the crooked politics the holey roads, not the God-kind of holy, the rip- off bloody supermarkets where wild dogs circle  hunger flaming from red eyes. in this wintery, nostril dripping weather that lurks outside my window, as hope sleeps fitfully in my doorway. I'll retire my TV to the dump, it can live there with all the other breaking news woes, while I unsubscribe from "headlines" and updates. I refuse to rant and lament, scroll and extoll about the coming doom or hide inside my room... while the world goes wild around me. I'm going to the beach to sip a cup of ocean, inhale the waves, scroll the horizon for cloud updates  as the autumn drizzle dampens my forehead, old tears and sweat rolling down my cheeks and off my shoulders. I thank...