Skylarking Poems & Notes

The Warrior: I have been living with the Warrior for a few weeks now, being with me everywhere I go, seeing London through his eyes, watching Life though his eyes. I thought I’d better write down the first explorations that came to me during that first research session. The Duality theme came through pretty strongly and it’s something I’d like to explore more fully. Who is the ‘W’ within Dolah. Who is the warrior within me?

Two Sides

Two sides , two parts, two styles

Flow versus still

Smooth versus rough

Hard versus soft

Pulling away bullying each other

Only in stillness are they

Undetectable

Only if they are moving together

Do they go in the same direction

Two sides, two halves, two answers

Struggle to keep the other down

Stay still, don’t say anything. Shhhh

 

 

Footsteps

Candles giving light

Time dancing through the nights dreams

Whispers of Warriors

The thresh and the sweat of treads

Footsteps on mud

The calm of the darkened world

Lit by candles

Give up the fight with out

Give in to the calm within

Silence the enemy with

Truth that only you can show

Take me there

Take me there.

 

 

The Meaning Of Life

Do I know the meaning of Life?

Do I know what it is to live?

It is all about fun

And being naughty

Does the English in me not want to be naughty?

Does the fact that Freedom means You Don’t Know?

That you don’t do anything? That it’s all too easy. That it’s become quite bland/blank? There is more to this than This.

Happiness? Families, children, taking care of business

Under the radar of the government

Over the cares of society

Above the norms.

 

 

Play With Me

The time has come to

Play, the time has come to stop being so

Serious and make you see

That inside me is magic and fun

If only you could see the time

If only you could feel the time is

Passing quickly. Hurry now

Take your time to play with me before you go

It’s calm in here it’s all childlike

It’s all new, it’s all gold

Like chocolate, like sunrises

Like morning dew, kicked in the air

By passing children, running through the grass

Follow me

It’s time.

I want the play to finish with the feeling that Dolah’s life is going to be completely different from that point on, almost rousing. There is something about what happens between Dolah and ‘W’ that is life-changing, transformative. The constant reminder of a past that is mythical and shrouded in mystery seems to call to Dolah.

The movement of the sarong

Wrapped tightly until revealed the pleats

That allow for movement.

A barrier, a door, a cover a sheath

A slow step, a measured foot

Carefully placed

The music. Kebyar gong resounding

It is a call to arms

It is a signal for change

The hidden dance within us

The beating of our hearts

And the swirling of rhythms

Above our heads

The dance of the fire-flies

Above our heads

The heavy gong of the earth

Under the ground

The swiftness of streams

And eddying currents

Lift and take us to enchantment

Painting

We, bright, emerge from sleep

To go dancing in forests deep

Slippery like silvered fish

In the streams,

Away from faraway thunder clouds.

Here it is the dew

That seeps colour into our skin.

 

Then,

The first heavy drop

Until the gods punish us.

The rain melds the trees

To our skin

I am bark and leaf

I am bronze and gold.

Despite the monsoon

When my hand melts into

Water, my splashing feet

In Joy, take flight.

With my blood, the rain,

In rivulets on my flesh

We Dance despite the nearing thunder

The closing grey against

The tangerine screen

Drenching in ink of squid.

And together

We dance despite the cracking sky

Despite the onslaught of rain and wind

And the rolling clouds swirling high above you

And the ground trembling under our dance

We know this is our place

We know this is where we were once one.

 

 

 

And he has a name now. Trawling through the Ramayana was peripherally helpful but Facebook, ironically, proved more helpful. A school friend of mine from Malaysia popped up in my timefeed. It was the darndest thing. His name was Wira, which means ‘Warrior’, or ‘Hero’. Perfect. I’m not usually one for serendipity but there he was.

This coincided with the time that I’d found ‘Opera Jawa‘ which is an Indonesian film set in modern-day rural Java but with classical Indonesian dance and singing. Amazing. Just what I needed. Confirmation that the universe was listening to my call for help. Finally I’d seen the Ancients in a modern day context. Beautiful, unnerving, a masterpiece by Garin Nugroho

So Wira is Dolah’s Spirit Guide. While Maya proves she can help from afar, Wira is the one that takes Dolah on the journey, leads him. Wira is the silent part of Dolah’s psyche that needs to speak but daren’t. Wira, the guide, telling me what I’m doing wrong, showing me the way of the fight. How in small steps the fight is made real. Wira, son of a king, trained by the finest.

 

I still don’t know how Wira appears. Once I start with Cecily Fay on the Silat movements and with Puja on the dance movements, that problem should cease.

Do I want him to be wholly Classical? That’d make him easier to identify and make him appear ‘other-worldly’. I think Wira needs to slide in and out of it. I don’t think I’ll use classical syair speech patterns – the play would take too long and barely comprehendable.

 

On Saturday I witness a rehearsal with Lila Cita (Puja’s troupe). I have yet to meet Cecily Fay though I think she’s going to be there too. Here’s hoping.