Fire And Ice

......................................Tinker Bell (Fire) and Twin Sis Periwinkle (Ice)............................

My twin sis and I had a choice between Fire and Ice

when we learned to react to the world, my sis chose

Fire while I chose Ice - she fought Authority with the

Fire of Rebellion and I ignored Authority with the Ice

of Rejection - she had to learn to temper her Fire and

I had to learn to melt the Ice that held my heart frozen

 

Today she still has arguments with friends while I still

keep my temper on a tight rein, I’m so glad I discovered

the power of a sense of humour to diffuse all situations

that threaten to make me lose my temper and I wish it

could work when I deal with my twin sis, we still deal with

each other as if we were five years old, can’t overcome

 

Certain words that trigger angry memories then off we go,

arguing like two small kids, I have to become an iceblock

to prevent from igniting her red-hot temper while she has

to suppress her immense irritation with me: this does not

make for easy relations and I wish we could understand

each other’s unique Code of Love, but my sis remains my

 

Nemesis - when we get together, the coals are smouldering

just ready to burst into flames and I have to work on icy self-

control to keep from exploding and I feel like throwing things

down to break them: I know by now that we love each other,

my sister and I, as long as we do not infringe on each other’s

mental territory - and what a supreme effort it is to keep from

 

Trespassing in each other’s lives…

Amira's Voice Rippling Radiantly

 https://youtu.be/HQ6yEW75WmU

Crystal prisms on my wall swing in time as Amira sings

describing a rippling stream and the sun shining bright,

gliding along on a stream Amira’s voice rippling radiantly

Corlea singing the harmony with complementing vibrato

filling each note with sunshine and flowers, I am drifting

.

Along, carried by the song’s weaving melody as my spirit

rejoices with the prismatic radiance of Amira’s ascending

bright soprano, the shimmering crystal prisms on my wall

a visual representation of the sunshine melodies in sweet

voices rising and falling in perfect harmony and bird song

.

With snow white swans, white jasmine and blue lotuses, the

sun rising high beyond my prismatic crystals disappear, but

Amira’s song plays on a loop in my ear & the sun’s beauty

remains in rippling voices and meandering melody flowing

like the current of an enchanting steam, delighting me… 

Every Rose Unfolding More Beautiful

Today every moment became part of a sequence

of joyously unfolding roses, as my cell phone was

dying we would buy a new battery, but my Crocodile

Kid wanted to buy me a new phone so the Budget-

Master of the Crocodile Castle decided to fund her

project and Takealot brought it today, a beautiful

 

New Cool Blue cell phone which my Crocodile Kid

prepared - backing up my old phone, transferring

everything with the most delightful new wallpaper:

a fairy in purple, it took ages to get my thumb print

on the phone, I held my thumb in one position and

Nici moved the phone and finally it worked, all my

 

Old data and information are available even my old

photos, Nici took my photo to show the new camera

has a clear image, all I could see were large yellow

teeth like the wolf imitating grandma in Red Riding

Hood - I stopped her to take a selfie without a smile

in the setting sun, the Crocodile Master delighted

 

His Kid made him buy me a phone and I’m over the

moon as my old phone had to be recharged every

five hours and I was resigned to that regime - now

I’m on line ready to chat with everyone, every rose

unfolding more beautiful than the previous one…

His Dreams Are Intact

My one-legged tin soldier who went on adventures

and whose loyalty to the ballerina balancing on one

leg remains firmly in place, will have to contend with

Alice-In-Wonderland when he wakes up being non-

physical consciousness in the realm after death - I

 

Shall greet him as the best mentor and loyal sibling

that has ever been, he never left me or anyone else

in the lurch - never shirked his duty, as traditionalist

and disciplinarian he marched with the platoon until

the day the Mandarin-aneurysm pushed him through

 

The window according to the fairy tale, then the brave

little soldier returned to the toy cupboard and saluted,

dependable as always while continuing his quest for

philosophic discourse, and though ill health impedes

my tin soldier, his dreams are intact and his life still

 

On track to scale the mountain he started climbing

when he taught philosophy a long time ago…

Machines Have Personalities

I am an innovative Choreperson, changing load and

sequence of the laundry basket, adding many fleecy

blankets to the washing machine to test its strength

as captains of submarines do, like Kelsey Grammar

in “Down Periscope” diving almost too deep, I want

to determine capacity of my little machine, I need to

 

Go big when laundry is stacked in large heaps and

the machine is singing happily in high frequencies:

machines have personalities like anthropomorphic

Volkswagen Herbie in “The Love Bug”, I want to be

best friends with it - like the enlightened and kind

Tennessee in the movie: without machines the life

 

Of a Washerwoman like me would be disastrous,

I rejoice in technology shown in movies where the

imagination is given free rein to explore relations

with machines, luckily no robots in our homes like

in “I, Robot” with Will Smith - chances of villains

turning them against us in the same way that a

 

Computer drives us insane with false promises

to fulfill our every wish are far too real, and the

disappointments would be stacking up until we

all went insane and killed the machines - then

where would we be? 

Join Me In Wonderland Also

Peter Pan in Neverland lives on his own planet &

nothing changes him - he sees reality as a place

where he’s alone & has to fend for himself, there’s

never been anyone to help him so he thinks there

is no God, a world view formed when he was small

 

My twin sis the Duchess believes the world to be an

unreasonable place & it’s her job to sort it out - her

world view also formed when she was small, while

I’m Alice-in-Wonderland -- delighted by admiration

for my brothers when I was small; and I always felt

 

Myself stretching and shrinking when reality seemed

to keep changing, until I discovered that a change in

perspective changed our view of the world, though it

remained the same: - were it but possible to explain

to the Duchess and Peter Pan that they can change

 

Their world view - what they think and feel is familiar

and makes them feel like home, but they can change

perspective to see a new world with different eyes &

realise the world is filled with the power of love, that

we have always been loved, even though our family

 

Were unable to show emotions in a logical way; once

I realised the love there was for us, I knew I could be

happy - I wish the Duchess & Peter Pan would look

with new eyes and join me in Wonderland also

Aesthetically Pleasing Crocodile Castle

The BudgetMaster of the Crocodile Castle finally pinpointed

the source of his problems - not power-sharing by ESKOM,

not use of too much water - it is me, the CharLady with my

rags, they are everywhere as I clean up spills in the kitchen

 

all through the day - a clear sign of an unhinged mind - the

BudgetMaster says, I have no sense of aesthetics spoiling

the ambience in Crocodile Castle all the time, he wants his

own apartment & no rags allowed, only expensive flannels

 

such as he will buy tomorrow - as CharLady I’ve failed the

grade since my rags drive him mad - and I can clearly see

having rags for the floor is a crime as it spoils the effect of

dishes I washed - cupboards and table I wiped - oh yes, it

 

sure is an enormous mistake to keep rags to clean up spills

and out they go, all of them, from now on he’ll buy beautiful

flannels and cloths for aesthetics - then the BudgetMaster

will be happy in his aesthetically pleasing Crocodile Castle

No More Mollycoddling

    My dogs have meticulously destroyed every blanket I lovingly gave them, the tatters rather wet from the rain, are flapping on the clothesline and my desire to keep them warm and comfortable has all but evaporated: our long-legged terrier has terribly long nails - it is true, but this goes beyond anything I've encountered before. 

    They have already destroyed a sleeping bag I offered them before - from now on, they are on their own, no more mollycoddling from me. I shall ignore them and stare at dancing fairies for as long as I like, drinking coffee and feeling sorry for myself - as any dog-owner does whose care is ignored by their unfeeling dogs...

Looking At Fairies Dancing

Consolidation did not work out - the moment the BudgetMaster was glad, many things happened like my son's debt coming to light and power-sharing, South Africa's eternal delight, ate up our solar power savings and there you are, no money saved. Sigh. A cloud of sadness is hanging over the day, although the sun is shining and nature is radiant in gladness. Now I'm looking at pictures of fairies dancing.

When I told Nici that I felt like Ouma Mazawattee she wanted to know what that could be, I showed her the vintage tea tin and she laughed, being the only one who realizes my irritation with life she is my ray of sunshine today, kindly she remarked: I'm sorry mom, but I have to point out that you already resemble her - and peals of laughter making me glad to have Nici around.

I had the temerity to unplug the electric plate since power-sharing was making the BudgetMaster so angry - I managed to make him angrier still because the plug was hanging free, a dangerous and most indecorous situation, he declared - and said: "There still is sunshine today, power-sharing won't affect us till later, so please, leave the plug intact, this is the oldest plug in the house", duly chastised I put my radio away because all of a sudden I hate all music playing... 

Have To Face His Nemesis

Peter Pan quite correctly stated as kids we were

left to bring up ourselves, he never learned to play

it safe, buying a folding table he pinched his finger,

threw the table away and it fell on his toe, the next

day he carried the old oval table outside and it rolled

over the toe of his other foot: one toe crushed, the

 

Other broken, he did not internalize safety rules: Be

careful, look where you’re going - things my Scorpio

says all the time; maybe Peter Pan is reckless since

he is Aquarius who lives on a rainbow, but declaring

there is no rainbow in existence, he is also an atheist

who believes consciousness is gone after death, I’m

 

Looking forward to greet him once we have both left

our bodies becoming  electromagnetic frequencies

carrying memories into eternity - I’d love to feel his

astonishment as he thought there would be nothing

and suddenly I’m communicating electrically - Hallo

Peter Pan, you thought you had left Neverland to be

 

Dead for eternity and here I am meeting you in the

pulse of magnetic awareness - and maybe he’ll be

unconscious from shock for a while, yet sometime

he’ll have to face his Nemesis - his lil sis Alice-in-

Wonderland, me, who enjoyed the stretching and

shrinking, thinking & singing while I was alive…

................................................................................................................

[Peter Pan must have swallowed several encyclopedias,

whatever I mention, he gives me an analysis, explanation

or full dissertation - all about succulents, fridges, TV’s and

how to overhaul a car - and why I should know this I cannot

fathom, but he is my key to find out things, to know more than

Google, to speculate about life - how could I ever let go of him?]

....................................................................................................................

    Just like authors can write fiction about anything, even if they would would not confess to it in religious contexts, poetry gives one leave to write about anything and everything as long as we show respect for ALL other theories in existence of which there are a myriad.

    If we cannot show respect for the viewpoints of others, we cannot expect respect for our viewpoint or our freedom, and religious wars are the outcome of such attitudes. 

    I respect EVERY viewpoint, therefore can request that others respect mine also, and I can write about anything in fiction or poetry as long as I don't attack others. 

    If I did not take this freedom, I would die of boredom. If I love and subscribe to one viewpoint it does not mean I have to ignore or hate all other viewpoints - I can play with these respectfully without offending my own views and beliefs . 

        I think we have been given a brain and imagination for a purpose - to use it - and boredom being my Nemesis, I take note of everything in existence.

    My brother Peter Pan in Neverland feels like a part of me and I cannot ever let him go, so this dream allows me to keep him even in death. I love dreams that keep my loved ones with me, for ever and ever, because this makes me happy.

    I do not restrict myself to mainstream Science, Religion and Reality - as Karl Popper said, these will last only as long as the hypothesis seem to be confirmed by experiments - I like to speculate about everything and then take those parts that allow me to hold on to my loved ones infinitely - for all of eternity.