I Prefer Dreaming! 30.06.2009

Everybody is happy – hubby because
the kids are with him in front of the TV -
me because they present the circus I
need to enjoy whatever I’m doing

Tiaan because he likes books and family
who do not require him to entertain all the
time... hubby is thinking about a subject for
Tiaan’s science project - I am thinking

About Tiaan’s dinosaur project - nearly netted
him naught because the teacher said it served
no purpose, proved no point – hubby is thinking
of helping Tiaan to develop a machine

For washing dogs, so practical, so meaningful,
compared to my dinosaur project - nearly had
Tiaan fail the grade; I HATE science with a
vengeance, I prefer dreaming

To reporting – and always WILL!

30 July 2009

Aargh! Accept, Reject, No Display

30 July 2009 - 22:00 - Aaaaargh! Accept, reject,
no display, kept at bay - when will life on PoemHunter
return to normal – or as near a thing as ever could be?

30 July 2009 – 21:50 – Hubby has forgiven me all my sins,
Nici is home; Tiaan has been forgiven for messing up his
watch and cell-phone; hubby has actually forgiven us for
being so stupid and unaware and incapable of showing
remorse – are we lucky, or what – we are SO lucky!

Piano-Falling Accident

Had the temerity to eat fatty food, after two
migraine pills, pain is still throbbing in my
head, wish I had eaten cake instead, at least
then I would have had to contend with a stuffy
nose and sinus in my face, but this migraine
is even worse than suffocation, I have been wasting
all my time, sitting in my chair because that is
why I get paid, looking up every word – every
single one, my head is empty of knowledge,
the only content left is red lines of fire snaking
everywhere, I wish I had the courage to go home
and dying alone, sitting here behind a false mask
of friendliness makes me feel so alone, trying to
imply that I’m actually doing my job while I’m living
a piano-falling-on-my-head accident in the quiet is
not my idea of fun, causes me to run amok, instead
of looking up words, I’ve been looking for pictures
of fairies and books, staring at beautiful, comforting
scenes to relieve the swelling in my head…

Monday 29 June 2009

Let The Masquerade Begin

Debussy is making the sea roll in my ears
in disjointed fits and starts, a storm at sea
wind building up, discouraging, my job is
not a meditation with this noise boiling
lifting and falling in my ears

Mantovani will be called upon to bring calm
to the raging sea, the noise is unbearable
I don’t want to be in the open-plan office -
correction; I don’t want to be in my body, I
don’t want to be me today

Wherever we go we take ourselves along, I
want to develop a different consciousness
filled with inner harmony and peace, tuned
into mediation and visualisation – yet life is
teaching me to seek equilibrium

In every set of circumstances, life should be
a journey towards greater awareness, but I’m
not making good progress; I believe we have
been created for the purpose to love and to
be loved, but doing a translation

In order to impress my supervisor while never
receiving feedback or comment from the client
is just like school, an empty academic exercise
that is meaningless in the end, nothing changed
in the world, no contribution to beauty

I do not enlarge awareness or enlarge the fount
of good, my treasure chest of wise sayings and
spiritual ideas are empty still, my voice, my life,
my existence are meaningless in these empty
moments playing Monopoly

Follow arbitrary rules, throw the dice, check the
outcome, pick a word, write a sentence, give the
client an idea of the original document and hope
to God your supervisor agrees with at least a
quarter of your vocabulary

At the end of the month we’ll pay you a certain
sum and you can buy medication that enables
you to continue playing the game of doing
nothing important or meaningful all day
long, master the art of bureaucratic

Doublespeak and obfuscating, procedures to
be followed to make sure forms are filled in
although they do not reflect any part of
reality, they are just for show, let the
masquerade begin…

Join The Fairy Dance

Sunday Night 28 June 2009

Feeling ill after the meal, trying
various activities, reading and
watching TV, nothing works -
pressure in my head

A piano on radio is playing bliksem
and donderen, I’m feverish - red as
a beet, end up staring at my picture
of dancing fairies - if only

I had the magical ability of Charlie
Bone, the hero created by Jenny
Nimmo, to enter pictures, I would
love to join the fairy dance

The picture brings peace and calm,
enchants with its shiny glitter, small
dancers in snow- white dresses,
diaphanous wings, long hair

Blowing freely in the wind, a
bewitching scene...

(bliksem and donderen: lightning and thunder)

F.A.K. liedjie: ‘soetjies, ligte voetjies, kom die feëtjies
Sag; goue lokkies, silwer rokkies het hul almal aan...’

Jenny Nimmo “Charlie Bone and the Time Twister”
Egmont Books Ltd

Intense Passion, Truth And Eternity

‘Welcome Home, Jellybean’ a mother who brought
her mentally retarded daughter home after thirteen
years in institutions - never learnt to feed herself or
speaking - disrupting the lives of father and brother

The mother chose her child when the father wanted
get rid of her, the man moved out, left his family in the
lurch, the brother, humiliated at school, stayed when
the father offered to take him away from shame

The father lacked integrity - May we never neglect our
loved ones, may we never judge the weak who run off,
may we never depend on them, never put our trust in
them while respecting their choices and freedom

May we never give them a chance to mess up our lives,
may we offer them unconditional love while reserving
responsibility and trust for the noble and strong who
will never run and leave loved ones in difficulties

Loyalty is the domain of special people who can take care
of our lives and hearts, ALL people are lovable, but only
those who show wisdom and moral fortitude can be
trusted with power and leadership in our lives

I adore people who are there when we need them, who
take care of love by being faithful and true, I delight in
their being , overjoyed by the privilege to know them, I
trust such a special person

To take care of intense passion, truth and eternity, you
have my love forever, you know you do because you
are strong and wise enough; PS. I love you....

Marlene Fanta Shyer “Welcome Home, Jellybean”
Granada Publishing 1981

Create A Wonderful Day

No warm, loving perspective; I create
wonderment by thinking thoughts that
will be reflected in happy feelings and
joyful emotions, but a harsh perspective
offered by my books does not bring me
any glad, positive thoughts

Most wonderful thought I cherish is a
hope devotion to wisdom and duty will
change ordinary life into glory and beauty,
I shall reread thoughts of authors who
look at the world from a beauty
perspective, embroider my dreams

Soul Mate understanding, helping through
life; though I don’t feel like sewing
or doing anything useful, my story should take
flight and fill my mind, I should
create positive thought forms; my
purpose in life is to be fulfilled...

Another Mental Conflagration

A Russian roll increases sinus headache for
which I take Sinuclear, then Sinumax for allergy,
hoping two witches’ brews will kill each other –
bring about a state of increased health
and improved energy

Yet my ears swell, fatigue rises; if I continue this
way I’ll be forever half asleep, my work will never
be done, the only thing I’m good at right now is
sleep – that is, if I don’t eat an Alice-in-Wonder-
land cake and stay awake

Isn’t life brilliant, everything we do to rectify
a mistake turns out to make situation worse
until a full-blown catastrophe knocks our planet
out of orbit, the magnetic poles shift and another
mental conflagration destroys our inner world?

Wendelin Wiedeking, Visionary-King

Now I’d better think up a story about
Wendelin Wiedeking, new Visionary-King
who deposed Oberon, won Titania’s hand
played the flute so Hamlin rats followed
him wondering why everything he touched
turned to gold, trying to usurp his power
not understanding he created work
and opportunity for dwarfs

Willing to work and sing while making
Porsches to be test-driven on BBC’s Top Gear
he knows nobody can grow poor
enough to make the poor rich

If the rich stop creating jobs and money
there is no opportunity; capitalism is
socially unequal - visionaries grow rich
creating jobs for hungry imbeciles eating
empty ideals

‘Tho jealous of their talent socialism is clear
to them because it spreads misery equally
between the Good, the Bad and the Ugly…

Glaring, Love-beaming Eyes

A miracle – I love miracles
living fairytales, an author who
creates as if he writes for me
that’s ALL I’LL ever need
a heart filled with beauty,
stories, wonderful ideas

A rose of delight unfolds
in my heart, sweet nectar
streams thru veins filling space
in my mind – finding an author’s
dreams replacing one’s own
painful tales with romance

Blooming in secret – need I ask
more? I swoon, float on a cloud,
sigh with delight, laugh delirious
about McGonagall’s angel with
love-glaring eyes, no-one
can fool me ever again

I know every glance is
beaming love, so I smile
and they mostly smile
back...

noreply@mcgonagall-online.org.uk
William Topaz McGonagall
Gem of the Day: The Destroying Angel

Staring In Stupefaction

I must see the doctor again, I’m too tired
to frolic with the kids, too tired to stand
upright for a while, too tired to think, too
tired to feel; too tired to read my beloved
Terry Pratchett!

I can’t read anything except one short
note of marvellous fantasy – a story that
someone is writing, so beautiful that even
now my heart is gladdened by this last
episode; but this short spurt of energy

heightens the awareness of my general
lethargy- Nici came in to say goodnight
and I couldn’t wait for silence again, at
work I can’t take in what I read and look
up everything and forget it

As soon as I’ve seen it; the fictional
characters in my head are so fed-up with
my slow thinking processes; they refuse to
appear and act out any exciting event, no
adventures left, I swallow pills by the dozen

Smile and play; today I grew SO tired during
our school uniform day, I had to sit down –
this isn’t right, I enjoyed the game so much;
then had to rest – tomorrow something must
be done, I feel so bad and inferior

When my mind does not work and I can’t
translate anything, just staring at a text
in stupefaction...

Nihilism Growing Complete

And still my confusion is growing, can’t think,
can’t get anything done, feeling bad, feeling
guilty, try reading every self-help treatise,
seeking spiritual remedies, I’m still losing
interest, still the need for hibernation is on
the increase, I carry on blindly with physical
deeds, washing and cleaning, but I can’t do
anything intellectually, can’t string a sentence
together, can’t understand anything I read,
sitting and staring, my own stupidity is boring
me, my own inability is scary to say the least,
I’m so tired and bored and listless and so very
depressed – I must have tumbled into the black
hole in my mind, falling into blackness, without
form or sound, nothingness, meaninglessness,
nihilism growing complete...

Jumpstart My Feelings

I have no book to read, I’m so tired,
fatigued, I have no book to read; oh
yes there is a Terry Pratchett, I have
read it before, then Charlie Bone by
Jenny Nimmo, but it leaves me cold,
I’m so tired; I’ve been tired before

Oh so many times, fighting against the
need for sleep, looking for energy– but
just now I can’t think; reading a political
document not helping at all; jealous
complainers not understanding
about visionaries

I’m tired, cannot say anything new, my
characters will not perform for me, I feel
nothing, nobody home, heroines all gone,
no hero about; winter is taking its toll,
even though I played a schoolboy to-
day; nothing is left, I’m empty inside

Where is my inspiration - where are my
characters, I can’t work or concentrate
without them; I need them back, need
a dream at the back of my mind,
please, awaken my heart, jump-
start my feelings, tell me things

That will create hope – without hope,
without dreams, without another
dimension, I can’t go on...

Need For Her Mother’s Love

Finished reading ‘On Being Sarah’ by Elizabeth
Helfman, how strange that once again the name
of the author – ‘Help-man’ and the Australian
Charles Bliss who developed symbols for children
who could not speak, describe their vocations
perfectly – Sarah who has cerebral palsy and
learnt that some people show their love in gifts
like her father, while others show their love con-
stantly like her mother who took care of her, dumb
and confined to a wheel-chair – her need for her
mother’s love shown in comfort and warmth - like
a bodily hunger in her – - I cried on reading the
story; the beautiful world of a mother’s dedicated
love, comforted and happy myself on discovering
this store of delight – Elizabeth Helfman’s book
became a link between Charles Bliss and people
needing his symbols – and a link between me and
the magical world of devoted love I adore so much!

‘On Being Sarah’ by Elizabeth Helfman
Albert Whitman & Company 1993

23 July 2009

The sun is shining

21 July 2009: The sun is shining - in shorts –
though the wind is cold – I stand in a patch of
sunshine in the kitchen, drinking it in, preparing
dinner, using discouraging thoughts in my mind
to get my life on purpose in my own dream.

Tomorrow schools open again, I must pluck my
sleeping kids from their warm beds, give them
something to eat and drop them at school at a
most ungodly hour in the morning - my heart is
shivering within at the ghastly thought...

Flamboyantly Going Overboard

In usual style, flamboyantly going
overboard, took too much Pseudo-
ephedrine, two pills at a time, another
two as I went to bed; didn’t sleep a wink

Nose and face feels horrible in an awful
new way, going mad in a different way than
before, this is beyond description disgusting,
one should take half a pill at a time

Where’s those poisonous mushrooms I’ve
been dreaming about - or salmonella; anything
that is effective, strychnine or cyanide; no more
pain for me, thank you very much

Feel too bad to even sneakily read Pratchett at
work, the Springbok cricket team lost to Pakistan,
our men are in a depression so bad, the likes of
it has never been seen on this continent

The only relief I can think of is vodka, lots of
vodka – to stop feeling the pain…

A Different Love

I loved my kids with a different love
when they were small, a love that
was allowed to cuddle and cosset,
hold them close, rock them to sleep,
rub a small back, sing lullabies, and
I miss those times, that perfect love

Love for older children is different,
their size and independence makes
for a new relationship, the soft warmth
of their childish years are gone and
I shall never be a perfect mom to an
older kid, I need someone

With shining eyes to sing along with
me, to take my hand trustingly, how
shall I make a place for myself in a
shrinking world that leaves little space
for loving little ones, for holding close
kissing little mouths good-night?

This is what mothering boils down to –
always moving further apart and far away,
it’s only cherished memories that stay…

Dragon Of Boredom - I Smell a Rat!

Failure, that big black word of depression,
failure to master myself, to obtain victory
over my incompetence, failure to work
slowly, doggedly, to concentrate on boring
texts, failure to read those texts, much less
understand them, then interpret correctly,
painstakingly looking for word equivalents
in various languages, living in anxiety,
fearing this overpowering feeling of
lethargy will take over my life, at school
studied boring texts as if my life depended
on them, studied myself to death at
university – yet today my spirit revolts
against the acceptance of each boring text,
my eyes refuse to focus on them, I don’t
make deadlines or hand in maimed work
of horrible quality, I’m supposed to do a
job I can’t master - for the reward of
receiving money which is promptly lost
in my paying for pills to keep going…
My biggest failure in life is to overcome
lassitude, boredom and lethargy; even
threats of punishment and death – fire
and brimstone- do not help very much
I have fought the dragon of boredom,
and lost – yet again, if I give in, I’ll
end up in the gutter - I think I won’t know
the difference; the gutter might just
be more interesting than being here!
When depression threatens, I must follow
a strict regimen of fresh, bland foods
to feel fine again, what a schlep, eating
badly simply to return to the rat race with
no end in sight – do I smell a rat?

12 June 2009

Firefox setting fire to my Brain

Bliksem, every time I want to close
a site, all the other sites are called
tabs and Godzilla, badly camouflaged
as Mozilla Firefox, wants to close them
all – so I have to keep all twenty open
if I need to continue using Webster’s
or IATE – this Firefox is setting fire to
my brain; the threatening conflagration
might not be a pretty sight at all!

Making My Throat Burn

I don’t give anyone responsibility
for the way I feel and I love them
all, I’m not using anyone as my
excuse to feel bad; except the
cold germs in my system

Making my throat burn, little neutral
organisms just bent on making a good
life in my body; with my head feeling
feverish and heavy and my biggest
wish to lie down

In happy forgetfulness, not sitting
here – or anywhere else on earth –
where are those heroine and cocaine
concoctions that were used as an
all-time cure

When our forbears were still young
in the eighteen-twenties?

Hashish, Muffins And Ministers

Due to muffins and Ministers, a function
I did not attend as my brilliant suggestion
of throwing the muffins at the Minister was
not accepted, while my request for smoking
hashish was also rejected, causing a loss of
interest in the strange workings of ministerial
relations campaigns, this day came to nought,
there is aught I can do about it

Due to my domestic manager attacked by her
common-law husband and she cleaving his head
with a stick; he throwing her clothes out on street,
all jolly last night, this day amounts to a total loss
in the chronicles of Voltaire’s Candide’s best of all
possible worlds, I tried everything to get rid of my
anger and upset reaction; nothing worked, hashish
and muffins not being allowed

Lonely, Foolish Clown

Softly, quietly, crying alone, there is nothing
to cry for, nothing wrong, the strange feeling
in my heart, the black emptiness in my mind, all
part of an illusion not meriting remark, not to
be mentioned anywhere, the world is order incar-
nate, all we have to do is align with it, all
of us, lining up, becoming aware of the perfect
situation in which law of attraction is bringing
us all we desire as long as we are on the same
wavelength as the things we want

I’m on no wavelength at all, lost in space, free-
falling amongst stars, not part of the beautiful
harmony everywhere, the golden threads of the
tapestry in my head turned into electrical wires
conducting a current of red despair, not allowed
anywhere, only positive settings can be admitted,
the lower notes must be hidden, press down on
irrational feelings, bury them, everyone, only
reveal the surface all polished and shining,
only allow what is required

What is required isn’t there, only the lonely
depression of a foolish clown…

My Head’s On Fire

All is well, therefore I’m lying on my arms
all is well, don’t worry about loved ones
all is well, the clouds covering the sun
all our colleagues, everyone, our friends

our new minister welcomed by muffins
all is well, I cannot get up, cannot move
cannot do anything at all, no problem
all is well, I believe it’s true, there’s no-
thing else to do, nowhere to go, nothing

to say, neither hope nor faith is required,
it is a fact of life – all is well, though my
head’s on fire, a big, red, burning ball
this is my problem, private, confidential

nothing to do with anyone, does not upset
anything, has no influence anywhere, does
not require attention or comment, just carry
on, immobile, catatonic, being here

just being here, all I can offer, it is good enough
all is well, sometime or another my system will
also show it - until then, sitting quietly, getting
heavier, sinking lower, deeper in my chair

all is well, my heart should know it and let go of
despair, unfounded, unfair, a lie, a falsehood,
though my tank is empty, if I wait long enough,
it will come to realize all is well, there is no lack

Anywhere, it is an illusion, life is beautiful, my
eyes will discern as soon as the lesson
is learnt – all is well, no need to care…

My Heart Secure In Your Hands

Too tired to wonder why laptop icons
are gone, why Tiaan’s charger isn’t
working, why and when he lost his
new grey trousers

I found that warm, safe place in the eye of
the storm today, when the wind stopped
howling and my heart was secure in
your hands; I luxuriated

In soft understanding and compassion,
came home feeling calm; imperceptibly,
stealthily, sweet assurance evaporated
as pressures mounted

I’m tired, I want to feel safe and calm
again, not overpowered by life….

4 June 2009

Dead Rat & Scary Things

I promised the man at King Pie who
sold me a life-threatening, food-disease
causing chicken-mayonnaise-pie that I
would contact him from heaven once
I’ve died after eating his pie to let
him know how heaven is

But now I’m still alive, only bursting
out of my clothes, I’m immune to everything
on earth, I think even Mr Cut-Me-Own-Throat
Dibbler’s Sausage-Inna-Bun would
have no untoward effect on me,
even though they’re made of

Dead rat and other scary things!

Terry Pratchett – Discworld Series – Soul Music
Mr Dibbler is one of his characters.

Idol Of The Heavenly Host

If Ascension or the Second Coming take
place, will you leave this vale of tears to
strum your harp and sing glory songs in
celestial places, becoming the idol of the
heavenly host

And will you kindly indicate to this wayward
sinful earthbound human; with no prospect
of ever dying given that all natural causes
have been eliminated, quite without her
own consent

while no unnatural causes present; by sending
her a ghostly message or two in proof, that you
have not left for an unknown planet or went to
different dimensions in an astral body, leaving
only the glow of your aura behind

If I continue to contemplate the possibilities of
what might have befallen you, I shall be here all
day and get no work done; please end my distress
on your behalf at your earliest convenience, from
a food-borne disease

Brain-addled thinker- with my foot in my mouth,
with no burnt offerings for celestial meditation…

Something To Look Forward To

Quickly to the library, need the exercise,
need a walk in the sun, got Colin Wilson’s
‘Beyond The Occult – Twenty Years’ Research
into the Paranormal’ for a bit of fun with
the myriad possibilities in life

Still reading ‘Only You Can Save Mankind’ –
then forwards and onwards into the future…

I thought I had a friend sharing jokes with me,
as I was still laughing uproariously, he suddenly
became angry under the unexpected attack of the
blues, a dark cloud of nihilism enveloping him

I sighed, went back to Abraham and read that it
is not necessary for somebody else; or anybody
else on earth – to understand and apply these
positive principles for us to live lovely events
by focusing on things to appreciate

I appreciate my friend’s terrible mood as a sign to
turn my eyes to all the blessings of the wonderful
sunshine, the most fantastic books, the divine music
in my ears, I know after his bad mood of nihilistic
depression, he will be ever so happy again

That is something to look forward to…

The Biggest Fool - US or WHO?

I won’t ever die, we do everything wrong
in the kitchen, according to WHO – the
World Health Organization – we should
be dead by now, we mix raw and cooked
food, use the same utensils and equipment
to prepare raw and cooked meat

We leave cooked food at room temperature
for far too long, we keep it in the fridge for
simply ages, we don’t keep cooked food
piping hot before eating, allowing it to cool
to luke-warm temperatures to propagate
proliferating bacteria

We must be so germ-infested, food-borne
disease is powerless given our immunity,
we don’t worry about expiry dates – I saw
food prepared in World War One was still
fine when used in the submarine of “Down
Periscope” - now WHO sends this message

All over the world: eat only the best quality
food, processed and pasteurised, use only
clean water – WHO should hand money or
food to those who have to eat rotten food
washed in drains and drink contaminated
water – doesn’t WHO know

Poor peoples don’t have access to any food
at all, much less high quality stuff kept in
fridges; why propagate sanitary rules aimed
at keeping all people alive indefinitely when
the world is overpopulated and more than
half is starving – who’s the biggest fool

US or WHO?

Ramshackle Impostor Footrest

Finally solved two problems in one go:
using the flat shield of the ramshackle
impostor of a footrest as a backrest on
my James-Bond movie chair, thus no
more enforced descents into the Hades
beneath my desk to put the ramshackle
thing together again

No more backache on my torturous chair,
designed to kill the enemy slowly until
the clamps give out and the enemy is
squashed against the side of the desk –
now chair and footrest have been set aside,
all that’s left is the deadly freezing
orgone gas in the air-con vents which
threatens to relieve us of our toes and
feet through dangerous frostbite as the
cold air stream is turned full-throttle
on our legs and feet

But it is time to tackle WHO and their food
problem rules too – I thought I would catch
tips on how to die legally, but death through
food-borne disease has been outlawed also…

Death Squads Kill All Offenders

In this big, wide world, WHO thinks
they can solve all problems by forcing
people to only eat high-quality food –
it is a plot to let the poor die since it is
forbidden to eat low-quality, badly-
prepared food and die of food-borne
disease, apparently only death by
starvation will be acceptable, any
death by food-borne disease has
been outlawed, hallelujah! - since
they insist on high standards of
hygiene without providing the
wherewithal, they can send out
death squads to kill all offenders –
voilà, the problem of over-
population solved!


WHO = World Health Organization

Tinkerbell

I love looking at things that make me feel good!

All I Need Is A Violin Case

I look like a member of the Assassin’s Guild,
working with sunglasses because of the glare
of the sun, our sunscreens being used to
keep the air-con vents closed

All I need is a violin case with a long gun and
walking down the passage with an exaggerated
swagger while light is dancing in rainbows on
crystal chandeliers and La Bohème

Is played at full volume and my poor victim
appears as a pitiable specimen of
unworthy humanity…

Dive Into Hades Beneath My Desk

Riding backwards and forwards in my
recalcitrant chair, only to bump into the
protective shield that is used as a footrest
while trying to envelope my cold feet and
legs in an enormous blue blanket, the air
con vents having been stoppered in most
professional way as per brilliant engineering
suggestion so that all cold air is blowing on
my legs and feet, but our hands and arms
are nicely warm; means that every now and
again the footrest comes apart and down I
dive into Hades beneath my desk to put the
contraption together again; once my chair
also lost its backrest clamp and I nearly
had to contend with backache together
with all the other aches and pains – but
luckily my desperate fuddling with the
lever yielded unexpected results and my
chair is ergonomically geared to keep me
upright without breaking my back – oh, what
a day, I need a break…

Their Spiritual Effervescence

Chronicling my characters’ adventures in one
part of my mind while trying to concentrate on
the letter by a terribly self-satisfied man who
thinks he can prescribe to the President; is a
terrible burden – yet not one I would ever
willingly relinquish, I love what my characters
are doing, though I want them to settle down
and give me some peace, I don’t want them
to go away and leave me alone – far be it from
me to be without their sizzling presence filling
the cathedral of my mind with their spiritual
effervescence – it is lovely when they are
here; I had better lend them my ears, oe la
la, wonderful…

Dionysian Fairy Tale

Mary Poppins is my favourite role model -
along with Maria von Trapp from The Sound
of Music fame, of course... my mother found
it strange that I used to sing everywhere I
went, I said - But that is what they do in the
movies, Maria used to sing all over the show
and Mary Poppins had a merry tune
for everything!

Tackle Fatigue With A Vengeance

Last night when I should have been
sleeping, I was wide awake thinking
and dreaming, now I’m sitting here
with a head burning and a mind all
tired and useless, energy-depleted,
no other avenue of help but to go out
hunting for toxic foodstuffs to eat, the
plastic, rubbery junk they sell on street,
I can’t lie on my arms in the open-plan
office, it is not debonair at all to reveal
weakness, just a moment longer with
my head down, then setting off like a
steam train to tackle the fatigue with a
vengeance!