Beata works as a qualified primary school teacher, a councillor for drug and alcohol addiction and a farm caretaker for organic olive grow.
The way I write did not change from the time...
I witnessed being a public execution on the city square.
It was a warning to all collective farm workers
not to steal produce they grew for tables
of their communist leaders in Moscow
the poor man lying in a pool of blood
on a dirty cement floor
I wrote angrily in my creative piece
after I returned to my student dormitory
was just trying to feed his hungry family
when he stole a piece of meat.
To make sense of absurdity of situation
I found myself in
living in a foreign land
far away from my family
I scribbled down a short story
About an old man I saw reaching out
to his wife and his little boy
sobbing quietly in a silent crowd
before being shot down
I witnessed it with my own eyes
but knew little about the circumstances of the trial
except the bits of information whispered
among scared passer byes
Then we were ordered to disperse
and not to mention what we saw again.
My creative story needed to be written the way...
The main point of the piece was hidden between the lines.
Still the editor of the local paper
rejected it on the base of one word
he said it is duplicate
I scratched my head what does he mean by 'duplicate'?
There were many people witnessing the same shooting
Everyone who dared to write about it would make up story
gun was probably the word or injustice?
I do not like rewriting the same story
so I wrote three with the same theme
to please the editor
When I found what was the word offending his credentials
I did not know if to laugh or cry
“Plastic bag’ was used only in the western world at that time
Russians were packing their groceries in old newspapers
so he assumed I copied it from some western literature
when I made my old man hid his piece of meat in it
Maybe I read it somewhere but I also had a father abroad
and news about him trickled from time to time
secretly over the Berlin wall behind which he lived
I questioned at that time as I question now
a half of century nearly later
What is the point of creative writing at all?
Now I live in Australia and I can write about anything
any way I like on any online platform I choose
Except of scared editor scared to offend authorities
an automatic duplicate system is checking constantly
every word you write highlighting it in red
just like communists in my past once did
When I moved into the west my Grandmother
was so anxious about I befriended many westerners
from Australia and USA or Canada
and with time and endless conversation
with lots of studying of books they recommended
and listening to their live stories
I found out we are all the same humans
and division between us is just a myth
I write my creative pieces still the same way
Each of my poems a wrapped gift you receive under your Christmas tree
I feel my gifts are not wanted or needed anymore
in strange times we live in.
The recent pandemic times reminds me
again of the time studying in Russia
People are scared around me
whispering all sorts of conspiracies
no one trusts anyone anymore
and neither they trust their own democratic governments
they themselves elect
It scares me that maybe the absurdity of the old times
is creeping back in our mist
maybe the west just like the east once
is suffering from malaise of search for understanding
based on evidence and common sense
being fed absolute truths
making absolute claims
This human quest for absolute claims is much older than the recent pandemic itself.
I always loved science although failed that subject at school.
I love their scientific approach to evidence.
They approach the world around them
with open minded attitude.
It finally make sense to me after the communist’s belief in absolute truth
It is not a quest for truth but more in their eyes search for understanding
that evolve with more data
I wrote a story about my old Australian friend scientist
living in America who visited a flat earth believers conference
who tried to persuade him Australia is just a hoax.
I made a story about his experience making my point
just like with with climate change deniers and anti vaccine protesters
it is very dangerous road to go down to make absolute claims.
'HubPages' automatic duplicate system rejected the poem
highlighting some words as duplicates.
Recently I took a bike ride with few friends...
Suddenly we came upon a snake and everyone panicked
A stranger riding opposite stopped staring at it blocking the exit
We screamed at him to move and let us pass before the snake bit any of us
Fortunately for us all the animal got bored with us or scared and slithered away
but the stranger stood his ground maybe he had a bad day
but suddenly politics came to his mind and he accused us of being lefties
noticing our clean up beach bags and one of the pamphlet of the benefits of vaccination
that poked out from my backpack
He screamed at us about taking his freedom away as he can’t fish anymore where he likes
and even watch his favourite tennis player at the Melbourne Cup to win his next title
because he refused to be vaccinated just like him. “He is my hero,” the man punched his chest proudly.
“If he would be a true hero he would get vaccinated and be example to everyone of us how to keep each other safe and work together as community.” I wanted to say but there the man sped off cursing the world and us.
I wrote another creative piece about a snake on my path but again 'HubPages automatic duplicate system'
rejected it claiming again I used some words that are duplicate.
I am too tired to scratch my head as I did in my university time
and guess if the word is snake or vaccination?
I gave up sending another creative story at all...
All is there to do is to give the HubPages an explanation
there were wrong to assume any of my stories was a duplicate
in any sense or form
if there is not clone in my head typing the imaginary story at the same time
for someone else
Maybe just maybe they switch off the automatic system for once
and try to understand as only humans do
the way I write what was the point of my three stories I sent:
'What scared me the most living in the East
was the idea that one person means nothing only community count.
What scares me now living in the West
is the idea that one person counts for everything,
and more rich or important they are they count for me
but community of disadvantaged, living on a fringe of society
means very little and sometimes nothing at all."
Watching the best tennis player recently winning his battle
with the Australian government proving to all of us,
he is too famous or rich to care about vaccination
while a group of refugees living in the same hotel
under siege from disappointed fans got no voice and no fame for a day.
He is young and strong, rich and famous,
who plays a hero to those who like individualism
above everything else. He is going to win his title
and prove everyone all you need to care about
Does it really matter how you affect your vulnerable in your community
by your selfishness to get vaccinated?
All what matters is YOU right?
Maybe there is no point to write anything creatively any more.
Maybe the real question we all should ask is:
Is there any word or situation or absurdity we never encountered before?
And if not everything we write is nothing but a duplicate
what was imagined, encountered, observed or re-lived before.