Written in Bynner Street, Shrewsbury, on a warm summer night…

  Love Scenes on No Progesterone Point

I pass down the narrow street of cared for terraced houses on a this full moon summer night. I glimpse through a window two tall red candles glowing in the darkened front room.

She gets up alertly from the dining chair – a slim-waisted, hair- upswept figure. Her movement tells me from where she hears sound – her whole body a swivelled ear - as she searches towards the door that leads to the back of the house. She’s hopeful. I think how her focus keeps her indoors with candles, and the moon and warm summer air – so rare – are ignored.

This scene we set to ensure our continuation, depends on the moods of Mother!

Here in the North, we need a warm cave and firelight. In the forest we thatch leaves to deflect the downpours around us. I long for tropical equanimity to melt in naked and warm and I feel a little sad that this rare chance to wander with the moon and summer warmth on the nearby Severn riverbank was so unfamiliar, so unexpected, it was missed by this young love-scene setter.

A sign of the times of our evolutionary changes … That although still recognising the beautiful symbol of candle for moonlight, of flame for creative fire, and still rooted in the sharing rituals of food and warmth, the scene is less and less directly connected - more and more diluted from primal passion, and nearer and nearer to perfected gene test cloning in outer space.

NAH !!! – Suddenly I blow away the cultural imposition and recall the animal energy of lust that spawns a sink or swim foetus on a dark corner bench of a nightclub. A baby that will have one parent – hopefully with a traditionally tribal group of females around her

Not called the ‘meat market’ for nothing! – this hot, sweaty, noisy, beaty, smoky cauldron – This modern tribal celebration full-moon dance - this primal love scene…

But even here, something is ignored…

The moon comes gradually to fullness - only once a month - not to make money every night, and less is more and more is less and we miss the magic moment in the mire of our excess…

Perhaps Mother is so wise after all her eons of experiment and practice, she already knows the contraceptives, the money-bred Infertilities and Disabilities need balancing with more chances, more frequent, albeit synthesised, full moons!                               

Ah ! - her evolutionary tricks and her balancing acts make me smile ! Who will win? Us ? – or should I say our male portions - in our blinkers, ignorance, insensitivity - our sabotage and greed – or Mother with her ever – loving renewal strategies.

The way ‘Mother’ has come out in these lines reminds me with another smile, of the grim frustration and balked resignation in some men’s tones when they refer to ‘Mother’ or ‘Mother in Law’ or even ‘Er Indoors’ – naughty anarchic boys! - They know they can never win – never budge, never outwit her Baba Yaga wisdom. But instead of cooperating in intelligent ways, many still retire to the male support group, to grumble and plot and build up their resistance to simply taking the wise path and doing as they are told!

But that’s part of the Yin-Yang tension - is it not? - Without that taut drawn elastic stretching apart there would be no need for a Love Scene to be set to facilitate the snap-back. Without the gobbling up of one creation by another, without the Life-Death cycle there could be no new life, no renewal, no room, no fuel, no growth, no fresh designs, no improvisation, no joyous excitement.

Maybe I shouldn’t bemoan the coming of dispassionate cloning. Maybe I shouldn’t shudder at the thought of living on Enterprize. Maybe I shouldn’t regret the ruling of my loins by my head. Maybe it could put off our final demise, when all of us disappear back to source energy – 

Hot Air in Cold Space - The primal Love Scene.

But maybe even that’s a kind of greed – a kind of both sides of the fence tentative bid I put in for. I think about how stuck for storylines and drama Star Trekkers would be if there were no Life – Death struggles with alien creatures to fill in the episodes. I suddenly realise how ego comforting the series is, even though it’s in the seemingly scary place of outer space, where all our physical securities no longer anchor us – for the atheists among us it cops us out of everlasting oblivion - it’s the scientist’s hope for an afterlife