Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Consciousness Freed

It’s unfair to be forbidden to show any emotion, but
it’s better being happy than being right, no argument,
no justice sought in a fight as these shackles give me
protection against my mother’s terrible, prima-donna
emotional shows and my dad’s scary, primitive, mad
emotional outbursts; I prefer a control freak because


You’re my bulwark against the past, a wall against the
freedom to express my thoughts & feelings - fearing it
would destroy my life or scar my kids like it scarred me;
though forbidden to show sadness or anger I’m glad to
know I still have underground emotions, I can still feel;
many times previously I had lost every feeling there is


And I just existed in emptiness; reclaiming my feeling
and enjoying emotions is a privilege which you reveal
by making me unhappy - which is so much better than
feeling nothing at all, living in meaninglessness, ANY
emotion is better than nihilism, even though I can’t go
back to my parents’ unbridled emotional explosions


Even your ice-cold-steel fury is better than their fiery
emotionalism; no memory of words because I fled the
fire-and-brimstone atmosphere and grandma’s sitting
in sackcloth and ashes, banned to the lowest level of
Purgatory for bankrupting mom to help her only son,
I only know how it made me feel: sad, burned, empty


Hating myself, my siblings, my parents; the key to un-
lock the door to my memories is lost, I think the mind
records all our youth’s scenes and we shall watch these
without the emotional turmoil of the body’s hormonal
secretions after our consciousness has been freed from
the body through the transition to another dimension…


[30 December 2014]

Monday, December 29, 2014

A Belligerent Insistence [REV.]

It’s not WHAT the dear child says -
but HOW she says it - belligerently,
with insistence, demanding listeners
differ so she can proclaim her vastly
superior opinions - she sounds just
like Doctor-Know-It-All, who knows
nothing whatsoever; her taunting


voice rising in offensiveness until 
I need run away to stop detonating
my explosive telepathic messages;
her demeanour & attitude can’t fail
to alienate listeners - substantiating
her claim everyone rejects her and
life is awful: at least she sees to it


That its insufferable for everyone in
her vicinity; I don’t have the spiritual
power to withstand such negatively
wilful spite, she throws the gauntlet
down in remarks intent on goading
listeners to negative reply; I refuse
to take the bait, bite my tongue


Feel an inevitable mental explosion
corroding my soul - & thus need to
leave; one day someone is bound to
tell her why people depart so quickly
when she’s around spitting her spite,
squelching all the little pleasures that
makes life so beautifully worthwhile….

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Circles Of Pain [REV.]

Used to cry hearing Ständchen, Schubert’s Serenade,
which my mother played on the piano after tucking us
in bed; as a young child life seemed unspeakably sad
and I lay sleepless as the notes rolled over me


Later I played the Serenade - again waves of sadness
swallowed me - revisiting that meaningless time in life -
there was no love between my siblings and Mom, Dad
and Grandma Alice living with us;


The melody wove a patchwork onto which I projected
everything beautiful I had no access to - being a cast-
away without the will or power to find paradise, stuck
in this trajectory - moving in circles of pain…


[ORIGINAL:]

I used to cry when listening to Ständchen, Schubert’s
Serenade, which my mother used to play on the piano
after we were tucked in bed and life seemed to me - as 
a young child – unspeakably sad; as I lay sleepless the
notes rolled over me - later I played the Serenade


And waves of sadness washed over me, reminding of
a time when life was meaningless as there was no love
between my siblings, Mom, Dad and Grandma Alice
living with us; the melody wove a patchwork on which
I projected everything beautiful I had no access to –


Being a cast-away without the will or power to find
any kind of paradise - stuck in this trajectory  -
moving around in circles of pain…


[27 December 2014]

The Zulu King [REV.]

Living in South Africa is a balance between pros
and cons, the state is criminal; it has never been
otherwise, just as it is almost everywhere - only
overseas criminals are the more adept & better
organised; apartheid villains risked privileges by
relegating blacks to slave labour, risked Africa’s
masses destroying everything, including gifts of
colonial origin, even food production, against


An open democracy versus anarchy; risked the
whole country’s destruction by violating human
rights - they made all descendants pay for such
profligacy surrendering to an uneducated gang
of criminals they created in refusing to provide a
basic human right of education; former apartheid
rulers orchestrated this political situation ensuring
the state’s new masters had no knowledge, no


Philosophical basis or world politics insight when
they took government; a white minority visualised
war in which rich people fled leaving the masses
to completely destroy the country so Africa would
have to start again, disadvantaged moreso than
today where technological gifts remain - though
systematically destroyed by not being maintained


Politicians forced to choose between pros and
cons of conflagration - killing white tribe now or
dying slowly like the rest of Africa - the Mandela
choice chose forgiveness, reconciliation and a
compromise to save everyone, to recommence
politics with the know-how & technology of their
former suppressors - then Jacob Zuma became
the Zulu King, destroying South Africa to start


A new Zulu nation without any aid from former
colonialists: now it’s up to a hard-working middle-
class to decide how they will survive - remember
it’s a game of pros and cons - the unconditional-
love-approach espoused by religions does not
exist in politics



[ORIGINAL:]

Life is a balance between pros and cons, the
South African state is criminal, it has never
been otherwise just as it is almost everywhere,
only the criminals overseas are more adept, more
organised – the apartheid criminals risked their
privileges by relegating blacks to slave labour
against Africa’s masses destroying everything,
gifts from colonial origin, even food production 

Against an open democracy and anarchy; risked
destroying the whole country by violating human
rights and they made their descendants pay for their
profligacy by surrendering to the group of uneducated
criminals they have created as they refused access to
the basic human right of education for everyone; the
former apartheid masters of South Africa orchestrated
the current political situation by making sure

The new masters of South Africa have no knowledge,
no philosophical basis and understanding of world
politics before they took over government, the white
minority visualised a great war in which rich people
fled and left the rest to destroy the country completely
so the Africans would have to start again with a greater
disadvantage than today where technological gifts still
remain - though being systematically destroyed by

Lack of maintenance; politicians were forced to choose
between the pros and cons of a conflagration killing the
white tribe immediately or slowly dying like the rest of
Africa – the choice was made by Nelson Mandela who
chose forgiveness, reconciliation and compromise to
save everyone, to recommence politics with the know-
how and technology of their former suppressors – then
Jacob Zuma became the Zulu King, destroying South

Africa to start a new Zulu nation without any help from
the former colonialists: now it's up to the hard-working
middle-class to decide how they will survive - remember
it's a game of pros and cons as the unconditional-love-
approach espoused by religions does not exist in politics...

[28 December 2014]

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Christmas Lights


So maybe I am an eco-adept who’s been 
tardy recognising it - and yet this analogy 
for ‘christmas lights’ split the atom for me 

The plant genus is Cereus - we’ve lots of 
‘em climbing trees - but more particularly 
a pergola where that display now begins 

A night-flowering cactus bloom has scent 
on wings, believe me, yet viewing it in full 
flush is an utterly enervating experience 

Couple that with this flowering happening 
uniquely on Xmas Day and you’ll see my 
sense of christmas lights as symmetry - 

Feel a deeper meaning in the ecology of 
natural events - make a burlesque of the 
crude attempts to synthesise such lights 

And think - we didn’t need ‘buy’ anything 
resembling gaudy decorations ‘dressing’ 
an idea of spiritual sense - or imagine it 

It was there and every element of reality 
we’d ever comprehended accompanied 
it gladly; and that’s just commencement 

Next we’ll see the fruit grow liberally into 
a richness of that essence - whether we
choose to share or feast won’t weight 

A burden on the conscience now freed 

© 27 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

Friday, December 26, 2014

In And Out Of Existence [REV.]

As an Italian song, Caro Mio Ben did not please
when presented for conquest in a singing lesson,
with great trepidation I switch on sweet Amira's
version - and lose my heart listening to silk-like
caresses of voice that stretches, glides, flows -


Now there's no turning back - a soothing sound
of vanilla ice-cream her song became the most
wonderful experience rendered in this little girl's
rounded diction; my singing teacher has been
vindicated, it's clear the deficiency was all me


Without a voice to do justice to amazing songs I
sing with Amira, experience sound vibrating thru
my body yet can't equal her performance, higher
notes forever out of my range; my passion at least
enables me to appreciate these songs made


Superb experiences by her mellifluous voice, the
falling notes mesmerise, she sings chord sequence
in minor key, lost to everything practical, pouring
my whole being into the pure minor notes -
wishing I could turn into a melody weaving


In and out of existence..


[ORIGINAL:]

Caro Mio Ben did not please when presented as
an Italian song to be conquered in singing lesson,
I switched on Sweet Amira’s version with great
trepidation and lost my heart, listening to a voice
like silk that caresses, glides, stretches and flows


Now there is no turning back, a soothing sound like
thick vanilla ice-cream milkshake, this song became
the most wonderful experience rendered in this little
girl’s rounded diction; my singing teacher has been
vindicated and it’s clear the deficiency was all mine


Without the voice to do justice to these amazing songs,
I sing along with Amira to experience sound vibrating
through my body, yet I can’t equal her performance as 
the higher notes is forever out of my range; at least my
passion for music enables me to appreciate these songs


Made into suberb experience by her mellifluous voice,
mesmerised by the falling notes as she sings a chord
sequence in a minor key, lost to everything practical,
pouring my whole being into the pure minor notes -
wishing I could turn into a melody weaving


In and out of existence...

[26 December 2014]

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Gentle Golden Light [REV.]

I send you and yours a golden light of love
each time I float in the turquoise pool, look
up at a soft blue sky tinted with light of life,
direct this energy to my far-off friend - and
the poetess I love with her music & song
sadly languishing in hospital


I wish my knightly nephew similar energy,
know he loves his little daughter with all
his might - yet you continue in depression,
cannot reply, your voice is still, no humour
softens the sides of your mouth, I wait for
your comment on the poems I sent


But nothing arrives - and still your silence
does not stop the flow of the gentle golden
light of love…

Drift Away [REV.]

These wonderful young kids have technique but
lack adult vocal chords to resonate with a wide,
perfect, rounded sound - oh, its wonderful they
can already master it in their youth and enchant
the world with the sweet sound they produce


Christmas grinds on at my computer refuge as
I listen to Maria Callas and Amira singing songs
bringing tears to my eyes & wonder to my heart,
we’ve yet to prepare green beans & fillet on the
braai but I escape to the divine which reminds


Of the magic of pure forgiveness & reconciliation
between man and man, nation and culture, races
meeting each other and forging more than just a
truce, a real new beginning as the fine symbol of
Bethlehem reminds us that the ideal of peace is


As old as mankind itself; my joy in these dreams
is rekindled - and I gently drift away into eternity…

Monday, December 22, 2014

An Ethereal Bloom

Thinly it flows – the sweet little voice, pure,
growing thinner on rising with certain vowels
but as she arrives at the really high notes her
voice grows broader, stronger, then fans out
beautifully in an anchored, rounder vibration


Rising with a new strength, an ethereal bloom
exploding in even waves of incredible beauty,
mesmerising in its purity, loveliness – driving
me into a reverent, adoring  silence as my soul
reverberates with the finely tuned voice


Swelling unto heaven carrying my heart with it
I can feel the gods as a celestial presence awed
by this exquisite voice breaking over them in
waves of a new delight these sensuous

beings have only ever hoped for...

[22 December 2014]

On 15 December 2014, Amira sang the Christmas Song “O Holy Night” at
The Royal Albert Hall in London

Sunday, December 21, 2014

List Of Loneliness

There, the anger is gone, why worry when a
dictator refuses to dictate? Why feel sorry
for yourself when your foot refuses to mend
or when they hate the subjects you discuss,
why bother when another is going to join
your little family so you can safely withdraw
into a mental haven for thoughts?

Gathering clouds are promising rain, you can
sit quietly in your corner without bothering
anyone, the circus will be here and your feelings
will be safely held in the words you wish to share
with those who like to read… Feeling overjoyed
about our new Miss World, reminding yourself
not to mention her name forestalling the scorn

Your interests evoke, feeling positive about
Eskom; that’s where the discussion with him
stopped, knowing you can watch DVD’s on
your laptop and the washing’s done and on
the line, you have a new book to read which
you bought and ignored for so long – this is
the only form of bliss that endures beyond

The list of loneliness when nobody’s around
to tell you how irritating you are…

Friday, December 19, 2014

My Brother Atilla the Hun [REV.]

Without wisdom & self-discipline my brother Atilla
the Hun still sits in an ethical morass we were born
into, he rejected the help of a children's book series
offering a moral system which saw me through child-
hood and led me through the darkest days of my life


Sired into an ethical vacuum, Atilla rejected idealism
in mother's religion - she detested grandma & Dad
with whom he identified, sharing his fate as Conan
the Barbarian mentally fixated in a nightmare world
of violent childhood, never rising into self-respect -
and as Queen of Hearts mom simply insisting


'All ways are my ways', trying to change everyone
except herself; Atilla internalised emptiness and
never tried to reach the sublime by finding a hero
with integrity, he gave up before his life began; the
end of his story could be read in its beginning -
addicted to anything that kept life looking sullied


And empty, giving in to all temptations without
considering the needs of his loved ones, a wife
and daughters; not facing his shortcomings - just
charging on incapable of learning consideration,
kindness and the values of civilisation…


[19 December 2014]

[I refer to the Keurboslaan book series, the fictitious school principal
was noble and offered a moral system of integrity which made up for
the lack of such a thing in our family life, but my brother “Atilla” derided
the character of Dr Serfontein and did not accept this system to get up
out of the morass]

Spiritual Musings [REV.]

I need to travel in time to surcease my brother Attila
the Hun’s suffering through the strife of mom as the
Queen of Hearts and dad as Conan the Barbarian; to
give him a better life, prevent the bitterness showing
upon his lips and ruining him; to guarantee his smile


Only problem is - how does one travel in time to just
the place where this universe splits; should I go back
to stop Mother teaming up with Conan thus Attila not 
born: but what about my brothers Peter Pan and Tom
Thumb, and my twin sister - the haughty Duchess


And what about me, Alice in Wonderland - who’d I be
with other genes or if the Queen of Hearts never read
Lewis Carroll to me when I was small or if I didn’t read
Agatha Christie; what if this equation did not contain
Conan, who would my eldest brother be - would he


Become the strong, happy brother I admired when
we were kids; but who would “we” be with another set
of parents? Given these questions, I’m glad that time-
travel is not possible - going back means I’ll be left in
another reality without family, without references and


Even if Attila looks bitter, maybe his soul or spirit is all
the more improved, maybe he came to earth to learn
spiritual lessons which could only be taught by being
an hysterical Queen of Hearts first-born & son of an
aggressive Conan who formed a terrible bond which


Still strikes fear to my heart; maybe Grandma Alice
needed to be the Cinderella who never went to the
ball as she made it possible for us to go decked out
in clothes she sewed; led by her selfless example a
gifted Queen of Hearts suffered in her own attempt


To grow spiritually…

Moonboot Off [2nd REV.]

Another instance of illusions lost,
trying to exercise watching ankle
swell and limping while the team
of professionals order me to walk
elegantly - legs and hips refusing
coordination, hobbling like a duck


I resemble a pelican struggling on
land yet I dream of sailing through
the air on avian wings, but there’s
no flying for me - heart bleeding I
waddle on - disappointing all who
say - walk normally - just so they


Can see the original me running
free but its come to naught; thus
as my spirit does I close my eyes,
listen to music soar - free from 
these recalcitrant moonboot
ligaments refusing to budge


[18 December 2014]

Friday, December 5, 2014

Difficult To Keep Strong [REV.]

Decorated the study with old blue religious pictures,
my small lights - a lamp and a hat hung on a hook;
expressing feelings fills me with energy; too excited
to sleep, playing with beautiful things & looking for
pictures of the sea and sun to lose my altered self


In the vast blue expanse & enjoy beauty of what is
to come, singing my song as we wander the beach,
I’ve now faced my fears of being an old person in
the young’s eyes, I know how old sun, sea & wind
must feel - I think they will welcome me more than


In the days of my youth; growing older is a gift - it
made me aware of other things, for the first time I
have a desire to take life as it comes though fear
and doubt still make it difficult to keep strong…


Be There For Me

Made a mess everywhere reflecting the mess in
my head, I want to be happy without escaping
into a book, want to stay in the present and it’s
hard, reality is scary, without illusions only
the
world's steel outline is left

I haven’t created new visions to replace childish
ideas, my choices leave no space for innovation;
did I choose to be so incommunicado or was it a
side-effect of other things, why do I have to feel
awkward and self-conscious when dealing with


Too-kind or boring, bigoted people, how to be
satisfied researching subtle differences in terms,
when shall a quiet happiness pervade my life and
keep flowing even when facing challenges I don’t
understand, when shall peace keep me safe


From dark thoughts, when shall all my fears be
unmasked as chimeras, when shall my thoughts
remain tuned to the right frequency where sweet
music is playing - and stop reverting to a chaotic

state leaving me winded on an empty beach

Without meaning – when will the meaning I give to
things stop changing into alienation, how can I be-
come a happy beach bum when I judge myself as
too old to frolic – yet dream of playing in the sea:
will my older physical frame allow me to


Meet my friend the sea head-on, will the sun
and the wind be there for me…

[5 October 2014]

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Thoughts Congeal [REV.]

There is no space, no movement of time in my heart -
stuck in one mood, one bizarre feeling of the absurd,
biocentrism meeting quantum field theory geometric
version as I stand outside the three dimensions of


Reality’s amplituhedron, chained within the Dungeon
Dimensions where my fears feed on my dissatisfaction
with physical life’s carousel as illusionary camouflage
enabling the adventurous consciousness to


Experience life as stages of dramatic and concurrent
reincarnation, since time and space is only a thought
construct, it is a game by which the thinker learns to
mould energy, using time and space as steel girders


On which to hang imaginary physical life - the mind
creating parallel universes sliding over each other
as visualisation and dreams create new places
for thoughts to congeal…


[3 December 2014]

Sad Musical Theme

Final destination, final revelation by my dear
kind physiotherapist; why he didn’t give me
exercises resulting in remonstrations at my
recalcitrance to move my imprisoned foot
freely about, to pirouette and waltz


Being haughtily informed of thrombosis, sent
home with dire warnings about laziness - but
right now it seems so unnecessary, left alone
I’ll wiggle my toes in the air, dance my feet on
the wall, walk everywhere - still sulking


Because medical people dare to launch attack
after attack while I parry their blows quietly like
a lamb dumbstruck at being led to slaughter -
total mental disappearance sounds attractive
right now, becoming a sad musical theme


[3 October 2014]

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Straight To Hell [REV.]

It’s hot, kids have TV on loud, the much-maligned
moonboot is evil, the doctor said, the only problem
is in your head – throw boot away, start exercising,
you useless Taugenichts, wasting my time like this


Evil I slink away, dastardly evil-incarnate-moonboot
in my hand, doctor growling, how DARE you come
here wearing a thing like this, go away, you devil’s
spawn, get you some exercise and be done – yes,


I can see he’s right - in my bones I feel demons,
my terrible foot’s taking me straight to hell…

Monday, December 1, 2014

Live The Message [REV.]

Though so many other things completely
mystify me - one I do understand easily;
our spiritual message is the life we live, we
present self as a gift - uniquely expressed

We are entertained and inspired by others’
talents and achievements; growing older I
find personality manifests in presentation,
flimsy beauty of all kinds of stars can’t

Enchant me if self-aggrandisement and
arrogance are subliminally revealed, when
choice of song and words shows a hollow
core with weakness of character

Knowing moral failings spoils my ability to
enjoy art expressed by voice in song, and
experience taught any who take recourse
to charm aren’t trustworthy, trying to hide

The true self behind a veneer of false cheer
unduly fakes advantage through a charming
act; through my life I wish to offer the gift of
honesty - the ability to laugh at myself and

My self-assumed martyrdom, to share my
boundless joie de vivre when the clouds lift
and the sun appears again, I want to live
the message of joy I bring…


[2 December 2014]

Unending Minutes [REV.]

Unrelenting depression - must get
my foot to heal and carry on though
life’s hateful; I’ll go in search of food,
try to survive until I can stop taking
this hellish brew - this medication


for inflammation; besides, evidence
it’s working is invisible - so is it worth
suffering seconds that coagulate into
awful wholes of unending minutes
crashing into cascading hours


of a river aflood in a pestilence of
unending doom; my only peace of
mind is in the momentary release
of gratefully eating before the next
bout of depression sets in…


[2 December 2014]


[ORIGINAL:]

Medication for inflammation, unending
depression, must get foot to heal, must
carry on although life is hateful, I will go
in search of food and try to survive until
I can stop taking this hellish brew –


Besides, the question whether it’s working
can’t be seen,  is it worthwhile carrying on,
suffering through seconds congregating
into awful wholes of unending minutes
flowing into hours like rivers of


Unending doom, the momentary release is
to eat before the next bout of depression
sets in…


[1 December 2014]

Friday, November 28, 2014

Ideals And Ethical Dreams

There goes Lobsang Rampa flying out the door
having failed two spirituality tests: he says the
end justifies the means and extrapolates with an
impossible situation – such as Ayn Rand would
have shown him up claiming such hypothetical
situations never arise in reality, and I believe


The means becomes the end as explained by
Seth and Abraham, then this bright-eyed and
bushy-tailed multiple lifetimes reincarnating –
kind and refined Tibetan gentleman lovingly
informs his followers those taking alcohol and
drugs should be removed from society like


Weeds - they should not be allowed to have
children – said without compassion, without
a nuance of understanding nor any depth of
interpretation, he diverges radically from Seth
as channelled by Jane Roberts, saying no-one 
has the right to infringe on another’s freedom


To make and experience their own choices to
learn in this way, we can respect each other
without bombing another out of existence –
Lobsang enlarged my imagination, banishing
boredom and now he has also taught me how
to detect lack of respect for multidimensional


Reality, how to choose criteria and measure
self-styled spiritual leaders to catalogue them
in their own place far away from high ideals
and ethical dreams…

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Succumb To Thrombosis [REV.]

I slink around wiggling my toes, waiting to
succumb to thrombosis caused by the very
murderous moonboot as predicted by the
kind doctor who did the sonar scan


Hands’ skin peeling from anxiety - the
sonar scan doctor recommends moving
about moonboot-less - while a general
practitioner thinks it’s disappointing


Ligaments are only partially healed, kindly
made appointment with her orthopaedic
surgeon with a bloodcurdling record doing
abortive hip replacements - therefore


Whatever he says, I won’t let him near me
with a knife, now I hang about without the
suspicious moonboot on my foot, doing my
exercises, turning circles with left-foot


And I still high step with the boot when I
get up, knowing the blood-clot threatening
boot and I are like naughty kids chided for
being bad, bad foot, bad boot, bad foot


Bad boot….

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

My Mind's Eye [REV.]

She’s jealous of the growing pool Alet said, its
a unique feature on our side of the building; a
spring tide this morning June claims, I want to
plant small flowers, adding goblins and deer,
June wants to plant mosses in a rock garden

Annette thinks we should sow beans - and in
my mind’s eye a magic beanstalk grows into
the heavens, we climb up to discover a new
dimension far away from our complaining
raucous factotum flabbergasted by the


Dripping water rotting carpet, causing growth
rings on the floor as the flood ebbs and flows;
we meet Bluebeard, steal all his riches and
jewels, return with our booty to the cheers
of all in the office…


[26 November 2014]

Problems Are Solved [REV.]

Meatballs and spaghetti, not for allergenic me of course,
you and the kids enjoy a hearty meal while I’m stuck with
veggies & side-salad - then you wash dishes of your own
accord and the kids go off to party with friends;


I watch NatGeoWild, Canada with snow I’ve never seen
personally, and probably never will; my diet restricts us
to a few organic dishes while we watch Diners, Drive-Ins
and Dives with quiet fascination resigned to the fact that


I can’t move outside the restrictions keeping me on even
keel - now you announce everything’s working perfectly,
punctuating the proclamation with amorous overtures -
that’s how I know all problems are solved!

Financial Advantage [REV.]

Navigated the minefield of your displeasure
almost successfully, only on two occasions
you told me to shut up, to stop commenting;
you’re sheltered happily in your programme
Going Live - and say, stop irritating me with
comments inapplicable to the Dramatic


Situation Unfolding; - I realise the only thing
I can do is let you revel in your own misery,
you enjoy being a martyr to excellence that
you own far too much of - & now it’s raining;
I’ll take your word for it you say, & suddenly
you’re successfully Going Live



Another thing I have no way of appreciating
except your joy at it happening - little me is
sitting here hoping I might get good results
from a moon boot sonar scan tomorrow -
but its irrelevant as it doesn’t directly mean
financial advantage…

Confused Delight

Feeling confused I once more indulge
my weakness for innocence - listening
to Amira’s first CD & while recognising
the knife-sharp high notes, the clarity of
tone and honesty of her presentation –
being everything I dreamed about at her
age and now can look back on as a kind
of life I would never have been able to
sustain, shyness being ingrained to the
point of derailment in my system, I love

The way she looks at the world with the
wondering eyes of a child and she does
not consider herself as singer as she
said, she wants the profit to do good for
those suffering and she clearly sings
for the joy it gives her, her natural and
childish delight in applause marks her
as a child who enjoys a fairytale yet still
feeds the cat and changes its sandbox,
with confused delight I listen, by doing


This I add to the wrong of exploiting a
young child – oh heavens, this makes
sense regarding pornography where
people’s brains show black spots of
atrophy when overindulging – but this
lovely sound, too sharp but oh so clear
and natural, of a child’s presentation
with confidence and trust in the adults
who watch her with interest – and all
she shows is this small girl and older


Brother who has the most mischievous
don’t care expression on his lips while
he takes care of his sis – what a bright
episode in which the gods themselves
delight and indulge – as long as there
are intelligent guidance preventing
harm, everything will be okay as yet…

Monday, November 24, 2014

Operation Moonboot Starts Again [REV.]

This fashionable moonboot & I may part company
as soon as tomorrow; it’ll be determined whether
ligaments are healed enough to allow me to sleep
without it - putting an end to the fight every night


with my left foot to position moonboot on top of the
duvet, under the duvet, getting caught in the sheet,
pillows under, around and next to my leg to support
the heavy hard-duty moonboot-foot

pressure too much - easing the Velcro; conscience
then intervenes and I duly tighten again, the sole of
my foot burning uncomfortably, I open the front part
of the shoe but keep my heel digging into the sole


until it is uncomfortable too, in two desperate hours
struggle I’m perspiring profusely & my moonboot
relationship turns sour verging on bitter divorce -
but I get up again, tie a handkerchief over the front


of my foot to cover sore, broken skin, pull on my
sock, falling asleep from sheer exhaustion until my
beloved slides clinging like an octopus into bed,
waking me, so - operation moonboot starts again…


[25 November 2014]

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Love Is Not A Feeling [REV.]

I believe men can only love women romantically
if they’ve never been wed to one; maybe it holds
true for women too who can only unconditionally
love a man if they have never been wed to one
either; but once husband and wife have to face


Family budgets and the DNA inheritance of their
off-spring unconditional love & romance ceases;
of a morning he’s hostile at her arising, she has
to get ready for work and is tired, looking unlike
his ideal - and she hates him for hating the kids


He ascribes what’s wrong in his life to her being
who she is - she struggles with guilt clouds until
she cedes, severs ties made in hell; marriages
which make it predicate on lack of romantic love,
i.e., he sees her for the ugly little thing she is


While she sees him for the accusatory & angry
person he is - romantic love only exists where
there’s no bond: when people share a life, the
only thing left to comprehend is this: Love is
not a feeling, but a state of the mind

Heaven Indeed [REV.]

Today you hate me - or at best dislike me - or is
it just guilt assignment for failures in your life; if
I do anything you remonstrate, shouting at me;
when I express anger at our son wasting your
money, you savagely attack me - when


I open the sun-room door, you nearly have an
apoplexy; I’m forced to conclude you hold me
responsible for bearing you a son who wastes
your money at university, for daring to have an
opinion, much less express it - now I simply


Absorb the negative energy and remember all
good things you do, finding balance between
your dislike & empathy; at this moment I find
release in German music soothing my heart’s
guilt feelings for being here, hoping that


Release would be sweet, that there’d be a
place for me where I can stop feeling guilty -
now wouldn’t that be heaven indeed…


[23 November 2014]

Friday, November 21, 2014

With The Right Timbre [REV.]

Vanilla-flavoured, caramel-sweet, streams
rounded & golden soft, perfect globules of
magical vibrations absolutely calming my
heart while awakening wonderment


Feeling soothed by the innocent youth
of the girl dreaming of singing opera, now
the exquisite voice has too small a throat
and too young chords to grow fuller in


A bewitching lyricism to come; yet feeling
is palpable in a charming rendition of Pie
Jesu & Voi Che Sapete - mesmerising as a
promise of how she will sing when this


Gifted young girl has evolved into her
ideals & her voice is strong enough to
reverberate with the right timbre to
express everything she feels…


[Listening to Amira Willighagen]

[22 November 2014]

Resigned Bitter-Sweet Amen [REV.]

There is only one true reaction listening to
Ave Maria sung by Maria Callas, a single
way to feel what the music brings - tears,
the stab to the heart so painful and sharp,
the full, beautiful voice piercing previous
defences against feelings, voice gaining
in intensity - like a judgment from God

Increased urgency ascends to its highest
notes expressing unbearable pain, all this
spinning in circling scales, rolling cascades
following each other – creating an aspect of
increasing dread, the inevitable feelings of
eternal sadness accompanied by terrible
emotion as the words “Santa Maria”

Repeat against overflowing streams of
notes rolling over and over and drowning
listeners in their own sorrows, then with
its crescendos spent, winding down to a
resigned bitter-sweet Amen…

[21 November 2014]

Shackles I Cannot Face [REV.]

To react emotionally to information in writing
is idiotic; I am such an idiot, I have to ignore
things like the Raelian Movement; although
respecting its right to establish a new creed
based on Sitchin and Von Daniken’s ideas

I keep my distance from sheep following the
original thinkers whose books I enjoy reading
enriching the imagination, but never making
philosophies into rules to enlighten my life,
freedom is more important than new dogma

Where sexualised love’s a norm required as
a way of life - already a distortion of the kind
of love we feel for the world plus everything
in it; reading about the new mind manacles
caused such a headache - a sure sign that

It’s not for me; people with integrity benefit
from whatever they believe even if it means
topless rights for ladies, while I’ll cherish my
freedom to wear layers of clothing allowing
me a sense of security, leaving their overly

Restrictive company, the headache lifted &
even the beautiful-underground-temple of
the Damanhur Federation in Piedmont
represents shackles I cannot face


[21 November 2014]

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Thwarts The Ideal [REV.]

Some got the message that we create our
own reality all wrong - saying ill-health is a
sign of us being bad; but it’s not at all what
Seth meant - bad only applies to whatever
makes us mad, given a self-chosen focus


Illness is caused by choosing to cherish
pain-inflicting thoughts, stopping the life
stream, rowing against a strong current,
wearing ourselves out without attaining
anything - without fulfilling ideals -


Thinking unhappy thoughts that destroy
our own power, telling our cells we don’t
like them & the body’s no good; it is no
big thing always feeling powerless, not
evil - we are free to act with impunity, to


Do as we please, free to discover for our-
selves what works, what brings disaster,
there’s nothing evil or bad - just the most
delightful discovery how to manipulate life,
the only bad is fixating on whatever


Thwarts the ideal in our hearts…

[20 November 2014]

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Participatory Geste


Wearing hearing aids these past 24 hours has been an 
extravagantly sensory inundation; and I’m not unaware
there are other sounds out there - tho’, maybe at times, 
am glad I don’t have to recognise and categorise them; 
unamplified they are easily blended in a mellowness of 
ambient, unspectacularly ordinary background noises; 
- it isn’t until an augmented air of bird chatter flings the 
towel irremediably into the ring - shattering such calm 

Then I have to attend to this reality; the raucous crow’s 
calls are truth as much as feeding lorikeets shrieking in 
deafening unison are facts of living near trees in flower, 
& I don’t need reminding some bird song isn’t melodic, 
or ear pleasing either, sounding so much like acrimony 
one learns to expect from our parliamentary clique 

But in the event there’s a sense of participatory geste 
that pays fuller feelings nearer the core of what one’s 
being is supposedly about; so comprenez, when you 
shut birds and the rest of it out you’re denying part of 
who you are; therefore I see hearing aids worn more 
regularly - and even without human company 

© 20 November 2014, I. D. Carswell

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Dare To Believe In Dreams [REV.]

Mathematical consultant Harold Gans reviewed Michael
Drosnin’s Bible Code of Witztum-Rips experiment - with
tested scientific protocols specified by reviewers and
strong statistical evidence for Jewish sages names, birth
and death dates encoded in the Hebraic Genesis text

But Drosnin's Torah code use to predict future events
is unfounded & sans scientific mathematical bases as
saying that ‘Encoded words represent potential future
incidents’, is logically flawed; one prediction of Prime
Minister Rabin’s assassination & an infinite number of

Successful predictions, is just anecdotal evidence, not
acceptable proof, the only fact of Genesis codes is that
they exist, the probability of mere coincidence actually
is vanishingly small - with this the careful mathematical
scientist exists, NO conclusions on facts ascertained

An instinct for remaining forever unsung, a founder of
no theory or idea, thus leaving the stage clear for the
Einsteins & Darwins with the courage to conclude the
unthinkable; a new theory - I revel in the mystery of
the Bible text that says so much & nobody knows

What it means - I conclude a consciousness outside
the linear time stream left an advanced technology
legacy from a future time we still have to reach –
what new wonders await - when we dare
to believe in dreams…


[19 November 2014]

The Multiverse Splits [REV.]

Dr Rips, Hebrew University Professor of Mathematics
claiming serious scientific Bible Codes research, says
Michael Drosnin's predictions are not valid - since the
practice making predictions on Torah codes is futile

And thus concurs every scientist, their only conclusion
is Torah codes exist beyond mere coincidence - I am
content with scientists tip-toeing over ideas like this as
futures can’t be predicted - only travellers in relative

Einstein-time can relay what has been from futures
where they looked back on finished events, then what
they say is mere probability - the trousers of time may
split, continue in a different time-line than was seen

By time-travellers; they might have seen another universe
where George Orwell’s 1984 had been realised - the Bible
Codes have one wonderful meaning for me: Proof that an
intelligence existing outside earth’s time-line did appear

To construct computer codes in a long-ago time-line before
modern technology and quantum interpretation, therefore
Bible codes confirm time is relative and our consciousness
is not confined in space-time, being free to roam anywhere

In a multiverse of infinite probabilities; as long as we dream
of wonderful new things, we shall create the best time-line
each time when the multiverse splits…


[19 November 2014]

Dark, Silent, Horrible Places [REV.]

Like a wild horse on speed the day ran
away from me; couldn’t get a rein on it,
it fled, didn’t give me a chance to touch
my feet to the earth - I gave up & read
it takes many million Consciousness
Units to form one atom; everything is

Conscious, seemingly immobile things
are formed by energetic strings, but it did
not make me feel better; I tried food, an
omelette, sausage & chocolate, felt worse,
but one bright beacon shone across this
dark day: Amira singing Ave Maria with

Such a clear voice - I rose, carried on in
tone; listening to her rendition of O Mio
Babbino Caro filled me with awe, and
though still despondent, excluded from
life and meaning, estranged from my
office colleagues, made my way out to

Meet you going home, arrived to find
Gator Boys on TV and slowly my spirit
came to rest after a day spent in the dark
of silent, horrible places…

[18 November 2014]

Monday, November 17, 2014

Sail Away

The maddening pain in my head is destroying
everything I have ever read or said, my world
implodes until there is only one infinitely heavy
dark item left ready to explode back into life as
soon as the headache lifts – but it will not

It clings like a parasite; I accept responsibility for
the crime which has such dire effects: eating that
beautiful baked potato dish my Beloved prepared
with such relish, I did not want to disappoint him
and tucked in with delight – but later that night

The headache claimed my head with spite, I know
it is right to suffer for hurting others but why suffer
for eating with the wish to please another being?
Now I’m estranged, alienated, listlessly looking
through documents, my brain a mushy mess

And I have no feelings left, only sharp edges of pain
that drain all emotion until my head is a flat screen
without pictures or writing…I’m free to do as I please
the only limitation is my body reacts violently to any-
thing identified as threatening - that’s about

Everything - from rice to grain to fat to fish, paying
the price for my own recklessness in eating a rich
bacon &cheese potato dish, slipping into an ink-
black place with inner screens for literal tunnel-
vision, pressing with such force on my ears

Hara-kiri sounds like heavenly purging, losing contact
with all as my head inflates and the software swells
against my cranium, berating myself has no positive
effect while the guru’s chant ‘You create your own
life’ – clearly I create existential distress with

A masterly hand, clearly my Beloved is right when he
says we’ll never travel as my digestive system would
make it a misery, clearly I’m bound to this chair, the
only safety is in waiting with Stoic calm until the storm
abates and I can sail away from this place of pain

[17 November 2014]

Saturday, November 15, 2014

My Descent [REV.]

I start my descent every Saturday into a
pit of discontent; crouched on the couch,
left ankle throbbing with Arthur Findlay’s
notes on the meaning of life - wishing to
refine my dreams just to find no reverie
in my head; my beloved cursing his luck
as a team arrives in pouring rain to fix
blocked drains outside while he wants
to watch his rugby team scoring

Deteriorating weather and aching foot-
hellish heat in moon boot - slept with a
wet sock scaring family who decreed it
illegal; a fine Halloween trick: keep feet
wet to shock all with shrivelled skin yet
I won’t do it again as it scared me too;
drain team left & my Beloved installed
in front of TV - while I’m watching an
American dancing programme

On what can be done with healthy limbs
not ensconced in demonic moon boots -
tomorrow’s Sunday, threatening another
descent into dark imprisoned discontent
of torn ligaments thus no swimming or
shopping, may my sister’s wedding on 12
December find my foot restored so I can
dress in ‘Gatsby’ style, complementing
her theme for future domestic felicity

[15 October 2014]

Refine My Dreams [REV.]

Mankind’s destiny is to put the mind in total
control of its surrounds, to become what we
do and think - fulfilment's first step Is taking
control over space & time, allowing mankind

To pass through earth experience all refining
individualised minds - preparing them to deal
with the immediate manifestation of thought
registered on the mind’s wavelength, without

Need for physical-deed-intermediaries to
fulfil a dream, but before such power can be
controlled, the genie must stay in its bottle &
learn to deal with contents of its own mind;

It makes sense to take care about what is
allowed to bloom into our thought-stream - 
pure-mind-existence means no metaphor
stands ‘tween us & what we think, living

As symbols of love, principle and wisdom
without the safety of the physical mask
which protected our innermost secrets
from scrutiny; the shock of seeing who

We really are and what harmonic tone
we belong to according to the character
we have, is painful;, we need to prepare
for such reality, while the sweet delight

Of finding we exist within the dream we
cherished most will be indescribable joy;
so I shall immediately refine my dreams

Friday, November 14, 2014

Ascend Through The Spheres [REV.]

Listen, he said, mind learns to make images and gain
control over its surroundings and until physical release
into the higher reach of vibrational frequencies, it is
trained through its creativity here on earth


Mind learns to control space and time since the mind
exists forever and grows more individualised through
experience; as we think we shall be, it’s our destiny
to triumph over earth-life; then death severs matter


And mind, which moves to high frequency vibrations
interpenetrating the same space as the observable
earth - millions of finer globes merge together on the
surface of a sphere where we’ll exist after Earth-life


Where vibrations refine mind as we ascend through
the spheres - where it all leads is an open question,
all this enlarges our vision and leads us to increase
effort towards perfection; thus we create a meaning


For life on earth which gives the discerning mind a
whole new purpose…


[14 November 2014]

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Bemused, Overjoyed Eyes [REV.]

So - how does one go about getting Arthur
Findlay’s Curse of Ignorance to be Africa’s
prescribed book? Combining it with Neale
Donald Walsch’s Tomorrow’s God would be
ideal to teach ethics and integrity -

The God we construct ourselves is terrible,
a vengeful force keen to smite enemies after
fighting others everywhere we go, we need
to create a NEW God to represent our best
qualities - not our minds worst ideas

Africa is happily, cheerfully repeating all the
European Great War lessons learned, what
we need is a great social dictator to usurp
all power, build infrastructure creating jobs
for us all, after this Hitlerian social mission

He should be removed by a coup, his great
social reforms retained while a new system
of values and ethics is taught in all Africa’s
schools - what a great fantasy this is, just
like the stream of advice for new ways to

Organise South Africa that appears weekly
in Sunday newspapers - we all dream and
make changes in the mind’s eye; of virtual  
realities being manifested in infinite worlds
as life splits at the trousers of time - I love

The reality in which I live where dreaming
removes a cynic’s weariness & scientists
delight in life as chaotic probabilities, and
it lies in OUR hands to create a new path
for life stretched out to eternity in front of

Our bemused, excited, overjoyed eyes…

[14 November 2014]

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Something Deep

Upon completion of correcting my text I felt the need
for something deep and found my old friend Arthur
Findlay again, author of ‘On the Edge of the Etheric’
another Scotsman who believes in ethics, but where

his compatriot the lovable McGonagall was religious

And preached a dour morality; the friendly Findlay
is a Spiritualist who believes the Golden Rule of ‘Do
Unto Others As You Want Them To Do Unto You’ is
bigger than  local religion which has been used by
priests to keep people ignorant and subservient


In ‘Curse of Ignorance’ Findlay explains that history
exalts heroes without wisdom or self-control simply
because they fire the imagination - yet perpetuated
war and unethical behaviour, he believes in teaching
kids ethics and rational behaviour - that the mind


Continues after physical death, that the individual’s
integrity or lack thereof determines where we shall
harmonise in the afterlife – and I love this, learning
must be acquired & wisdom comes from experience
I think feeling what we’re reading is the same thing


Thus have I tried to obtain wisdom without having
to live through every painful event recorded, extra
sensory experience would be wonderful but would
estrange me from my beloved community, Findlay
did the experiments with mediums and spirits and


Reported all in a no-nonsense way - ignorance has
always been abhorrent to me - childhood seemed
a suffering & enlightenment removes the curse of
suffering while wisdom is a delight far beyond any
material event - I love Findlay ‘s ethical wisdom


And rejoice in McGonagall’s glaring with love-
beaming eyes – what a brilliant combination -
Arthur Findlay and William Topaz McGonagall!


[12 November 2014]

Dying Eventually

Listening to my favourite Internet guru, quite clearly this works for many people as they repeat the jargon flawlessly and I wish I could ge...