And what can I say? Yes,
I am moved by kindness.
Moved by the visibility
that eludes us for three
hundred and fifty three
days of the year. And yes,
in spite of my cynicism
I strive to stretch the twelve
days of Christmas into months.
Imagine, twelve months of
human kindness; the very best
of human kind.
-By Gini
This land is your land,
this life is your life
and yet it’s my land
containing my life.
This land is home to
a living people;
do not leave without
the seeing and feeling
of as much reality
as you can bear.
Smile,
hold out your
kindness
with generosity.
We can all go down
together.
Or
become a raft
big enough
to float.
-By Gini
Have another.
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Have another
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Have another
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Have another.
Feed.
Before you go
back
out.
-By Gini
The dark night of the solstice
comes around, brings around
it’s own brand of need.
Tis the season for charity,
the season to shelve suspicion
in favour of the pity-eyed
offers of assistance; money
swelling the salving coffers as
normal gears up for the fleeting
season of goodwill, of kindness
and uncommon generosity.
-By Gini
Surely you’re not complaining,
again.
It’s only one step.
It’s only one joke.
It’s only this once.
You don’t mind do you. Being
left out.
It’s only one meal
It’s only one joke.
It’s only this once.
It is only ever once.
Ever.
Surely you’re not complaining
again.
-By Gini
I can only be who I am
and who I am is incompatible
enough with who you think
I should be that the one
way ticket sits whispering
on my shoulder even while
I argue for the right
to a dignified life.
Don’t push me.
I’m not sick.
I’m not ill. Just
someone
you never
made room for…
-By Gini
