Flag

Flag. Installation, tattoo, flag. Rotterdam Vlaggenparade + Newcastle Upon Tyne. 2007.

I raise the flag of independence, as any human can.

In coloured fabric, the international size -
I could tell you what each shape means,
But I’ve tried to forget this decade past.
I took it to the flag museum and they had an empty pole,
And for a moment I flew above the nations,
And caught the wind.

The Universe does not recognise the state as God -
Human is born as any living thing -
Naked, stateless, sovereign.
My flag is big enough for a swaddling blanket, or shroud.
At that time I needed to feel something,
So had it tattooed on my arm
And in doing so, had to commit myself to it.

I am wed to it -
Not to its shape, or form, or symbols,
Not by the fact of it being a flag, or what flag’s mean,
Not by its implied statement,
Which while cosmically true,
On our Human scale, is scarcely relevant, or attainable.

It’s to the intention that I am wed,
And that which it points to:
It is a candle lit for agency,
Manifest from within.