Oe Là Là, Skattie

Exploring the Cape West Coast, bought
a treasure in Malmesbury, a 1958-Psalm
book published by the Dutch Reformed
Church, archaic terms*

Bought Shiraz, Cabernet Sauvignon and
Port at Allesverloren where we found
everything to our taste, blue-gum
honey for my dad

Visited Evita’s Perron where Pieter-Dirk
Uys bought Darling Station, changed it into
a nauseum-museum of Boerassic-Park with
a restaurant where we were entertained with

South African Art Federation* songs, a picture
of Eugene Terblanche stares at you in a bright-
pink toilet, walls covered with Tretchikoff and
Evita’s political pictures

Pieter-Dirk Uys posing as Jay Naidoo, Bill Clinton
and Bishop Tutu, and his masterpiece, the Big
Crocodile himself PW Botha crossing the
Rubicon - Oe là là, Skattie

* Smeltend-Skone Harp- en Sitertone (Psalm 33)
*FAK: Federasie van Afrikaanse Kultuurverenigings

Smeltend-Skone Sitertone

Die weerkrag van my heil
by wilde waterweë en
hemelsfere in die
oneindigheid

Waar die nagtelike hemel
skyn met tint- en glans-
gewemel

U oordeel vol geheimenis
in u rykstroon ver bokant
die hemelboë - stygend in
wentelkringe

U strafgerigte dring soos skigte
wyl die smeltend-skone harp-
en sitertone liefd’en lof
verklank

Die Berymde Psalms en Evangeliese
Gesange, NG Kerk Uitgewers 1958

Aanhalings uit Psalms 8, 9, 18, 33, 38.

(Playing with Archaic Terms from the 1958-Psalm
book published by the Dutch Reformed Church
by stringing striking expressions together)

Aspects Of Mystagogy

Now for the book’s concerns; pages 22 to 40:

There has been a 1200-year schism between theology
and experience. Everybody hitched their scientific and
religious wagons to the bright star of the Rational En-
lightenment and only knowledge of God was left –
experience was exiled.

- Now I know who to hate and blame for my dreary youth
where ice-cold knowledge of God, human invention and
liturgy, provided no succour in dealing with an incom-
prehensible, ugly, loveless world! -

David Regan explains how the church slowly realized
how irrelevant it has become in a world where
experience is deemed more important
than blind obedience.

He proposes the church hi-jacks all positive secular
movements, from Green Peace to Minority Rights,
and classify them under the following headings:

Unfolding Mystery Of Christ’s World Redemption

Revelation Of God’s Infinite Love

Experience Of God’s Workings

Aspects Of Mystagogy

Works Of The Spirit

Thus the church can claim credit for ALL things good-
does not matter who accomplished what; describing
everything prosperous as the work of God’s spirit
in God’s vineyard

All community service called fulfillment of God’s will,
all experience seen as part of Christ’s suffering on
the cross

THIS is how humankind creates gods, religions,
terminology and organisations that form the
view, perspective and lives of populations
and civilisations

Obtaining power to govern, guide and use them
for their own ends – another Pope to be crowned
as god’s representative on earth – especially
owner of all its riches...

I think I will not become a mystagogue at all, but
remain an undercover agent seeking the
spiritual...

David Regan “Experience The Mystery”
Geoffrey Chapman, London, 1994

Sitting On Hard Tiles

The litany of my woes in reading “Experience
The Mystery” is growing: I could not make notes
on the laptop while reading; had a pen, but no
paper.

Bought a small notebook, then lost my
pen. Borrowed a pen from Nici – red, yuck –
made notes in red pen – most disconcerting.

Bought blue-ink pens and a new notebook
today, not wishing to continue in the accusing
red-ink book.

Tiaan drily remarked I should buy ten
notebooks, a new book for every day...

I told Martin it was such a relief to see all my
own concerns with religion addressed in this
book, especially the world-wide loss of faith
because theology is irrelevant in its insistence
on knowledge without experience.

Nonsense, he replied, just look at the church
community in Pierre van Ryneveld, no problem
there – I said I was talking about religion in a
global context.

What do you propose to do about it? he asked
very practically, as an IT-project leader, he only
considers problems he is going to solve.

I said NOTHING, I just want to KNOW.

Ready to transfer my notes to the laptop, I switched
on – impossible to see in the bright sunlight; now I
am sitting on the hard tiles behind the counter
where the screen is visible...

David Regan “Experience The Mystery”
Geoffrey Chapman, London, 1994

28 September 2009

It Is My Birthright!

Oh no, by now I am quite hysterical, I brought
NO make-up on holiday, I am purple and red
and white in the face – the cold – the sun – I
have no face powder or cream base, I know
beauty is deeper than skin BUT all I can see
is skin without covering - the female
psyche cannot accept being
ugly like this!

We NEED help for beauty, we require a dream; my
positive book says we need not be beautiful to
feel it, we need only FEEL great – and
I feel AWFUL!

No lipstick or eyeliner – I’m used to having unlined
eyes, sunglasses covering everything; but no cover
cream?! NO, no NO NO! Matt from Shadow of Iris,
you may appreciate the cracked pot when you
see it, but I refuse to BE the cracked pot

I must cover the cracks with the help of beauticians,
philosophise all you want; the female spirit cannot
accept being bland – all pain and injury are used
to advantage to sweeten my spirit – but I MUST
have access to beautician’s arts for
appearance, it is my birthright!

Sweet Mystery of the Divine

Wishing to become a mystagogue practising
Christian mystagogy, preferring experience
to intellectual knowing

Surpassing the traditional doctrinal proclaiming
a Tridentine godliness, decrying affective
experience as ephemeral

Christian mystagogy offers an experience of the
divine mystery, based on a small bibliography
proving it is more than

Mere homespun fantasy, Regan taught liturgy at
the seminary and theology faculty, and studied
missiology at the

Pontifical Universty School of Spirituality; ancient
practice was inculturated for Christian formation -
a holistic approach based on experience

For the initiation and transmission of Christian faith
religious education with a wider scope instead of
learning intellectual doctrine only

Providing the Christian Mystery with a psychic
substratum by which all of life acquires
new meaning

Ah, Sweet Mystery of the Divine, I always feel
your maddening joy when contemplating the
most enchanting aspects of

Intersubjective experience!


David Regan “Experience The Mystery” Pastoral
Possibilities for Christian Mystagogy - Geoffrey
Chapman, London, 1994 pp. 1-22

Bread On The Wind

Everybody deals with this in their own way:
My dad started to curse, words to make a
sailor blush, I sent a Bible verse, tuned
the piano

My sister traversed the hospital, in compensation
I pushed her about in the wheelchair, my brother
drove 600 km’s to see our mom, my uncle drove
to the hospital

Hubby sent cash and endless bottles of wine, my
colleagues discussed the case in detail; contributing
a unique opinion, all alleviating my mother’s pain
on splintered eye socket

A young Indian intern explained how perfectly God
designed bone structure to keep eye and brain safe
in case of grave injury, I am so overjoyed and sur-
prised on discovering

Johannesburg Academic Hospital is worth its weight
in gold, the South African Government is taking care
of their own – can all my tears of joy and surprise
ever thank them?

Can words ever express my delight – never, never
in a million years can anyone say how wonderful
a society who took care of my mother who believed
Jesus implicitly

Scattered her bread on the wind, now I see it
returned – a hundred-millionfold!

Mother’s Life And Abilities

BlitheIy I called my sister, yesterday
my mother reported ‘Do not bother me
I cannot entertain you’ - I thought I was
helping her, I was wrong, my loud presence
taxed her limited power

At the end of today after finishing my German
document and the scrambled letter from Brussels
that does not make sense, I called her – my sister
cried, ‘Mother is white as a sheet, tired, I walked
until my feet hurt

PLEASE support me’ - now I can mean something
to my family, although specialists say there was
implosion of little bones, I believe that my
mother’s life and abilities – even her
looks! – are safe....

Beer, Shiraz & Vodka Too

I shared my research with big bro
he laughed, called it balderdash but
what ho, he was drinking beer,
Shiraz and vodka too while laughing
at the the learned men, applying their
prognoses assiduously

he well knows how alcohol makes
him feel - all wannabe poets know
that when inspiration is slow it is
necessary to obtain Bacchus’ help
in reviving creative spirit!A study
of 38,000 head-injured accident
victims found that those with
alcohol in the blood stream were
more likely to survive. For 100
people dying sober only 88 died
with alcohol in their veins

Possibility is that the injured brain
may have chances of survival im-
proved by introducing ethanol to
lessen the amount of adrenalin
reaching it, reducing inflammation.

But the fact remains - if you drink
driving doesn't improve your
judgment...

Lovely, Fool-Proof Excuse

The little alien realized even
he could master the terms in
the German Import Permit ac-
companied by English equiva-
lents, finished the document
double quick, now faced with
a letter to the President, I
must dream up an incident to
amuse the little pest, found
an article about alcohol:

Oh joy, alcohol may one day
help the brain-injured recover
by reducing the amount of
adrenalin reaching the brain
lessening inflammation, thus
I with a surplus of adrenaline
should drink to calm my nerves
only stop before the situation
becomes worse

A man who drank brake-fluid had
his life saved by drinking copious
amounts of whiskey preventing
his kidneys from processing the
life-threatening fluid, my system
might be prevented from reacting
to allergy food if it is processing
alcohol – what a lovely, fool-proof
excuse to partake in

Bacchanalian feasts
all the time!

So Delighted, So Delirious!

Everywhere else the house is in
good taste, except next to my bed
a water hyacinth and white flowers
a little doll Raggedy Anne, glitter on
fairy wings in purple

Notebooks, printed books and pictures
of fairies and soft stuffed animals, flowers
a riot of pinks, offset by white, fairies and
books and flowers and wings, sea-shells
on a string, a butterfly glittering

Purple beads, everything good and
wonderful, no-one can take my kitsch
away, no-one can criticise my taste
in my room, I am rich as a queen
when I look at my treasures

As precious to me as beautiful
thoughts, my production sheet
was accepted as correct for the
first time ever - I am so glad
so delighted

So delirious!

Alien Trying To Hang Himself

Imitation flowers bringing an
imitation spring into the office
intense colour splashes, thick
green plastic stems destroying
the air-con vents

I will have to take some home
I suppose, plastic flowers filling
my work station to overflowing
even I can see that I have gone
too far, time to throttle back

I will take the German document
with me, if I stare at it long enough
the little alien might grow calm and
I might find some terms without the
alien trying to hang himself…

Own Musical World

I have lost interest in my German
permit, the little alien in my head
cannot interpret the terms on the
Internet, I gave up the tug-of-war
as totally useless

I spoke to my X-rayed mother, my sister
irate, she will not tolerate my inter-
ference, every question answered with
aggression, she is accountable
to no-one

I let the matter rest, changing quantum
physical reality by cherishing positive ex-
pectations for total healing, believing
mother’s trust and positive attitude
will buoy her up

While I concentrate on visualising her
playing piano in her own musical
world, sound and notes
filling her soul

Delightful Joyous World

Trying to meet norms – not
mastering skills I aim for
spiritual development
loving people talented
where I am deficit

Yet you make room for me
I do not prepare meals am
not a homemaker cannot
climb the corporate ladder
hang only in the trenches

Through my colleagues’
loving help, counting all
these advantages, I fall
on my knees thanking
universal consciousness

Overactive mind causing
concentration problems
receive help from all in
my little world to cross
every obstacle

I love everyone touching
my life with their golden
goodness, especially the
unique few who like what
I write

Making space for my
illegal thoughts and feelings
what a wonderful
delightful, joyous
loving world!

Jim Miller’s “Klokkie Wals”

The piano tuner, Henk from Quality Pianos
is a brilliant musician, at my request he
played Jim Miller’s “Klokkie Wals” once
he had finished tuning, it sounded mag-
nificent

He has thick workman’s fingers, playing
with authority and charm, Jim Miller alive
I heard it played well ages ago when my
mother was well, it was a time warp to
hear it again

My sister and brother’s rendition is more
hesitant and I only play Beethoven’s
Moonlight Sonata - if I play at all...

You Taught Me That

In spite of your policies, you allowed
me expression when I went mad with
cropped-up feelings, I must understand
why my mother’s life turned out a mess
why her policies on friendship led to her
losing sons, never getting on with my
father, her husband, you allowed me
to express my thoughts on setting
limits through high principles to
prevent others taking a fool for
a ride, motives are always good,
but it does not protect others, we
must all protect ourselves, you
taught me that and I am
thankful...

Loss Of Pastor’s Friendship

Mother camped with pastor’s
group, fell and fractured eye
socket, cheek bone, concus-
sion; yet at her request was
left without medical care for
a night and day, I disdain the
pastor’s lack of compassion
for my mother’s plight

Showed the pastor no compas-
sion when she arrived, mother
laments loss of pastor’s friend-
ship, but would pastor have left
her own mother if injured in the
wild - as she left mine? I seek
no friendship with such an
ecclesiast leaving mother

Injured on Saturday, brought
her home Sunday night, dirty
bandage on face and eye, my
shocked sister died inside, my
father cried, praying Please save
her eye – Mother sets no limits on
friendship, following her father

Who brought in anybody from the
streets to feed and clothe at the cost
of his own family, Mother adored him
every mercenary ready to separate
fools from their money takes her for
a ride – that includes the religious
Pharisees of our day....

Unlimited Intolerance

I am a selfish
self-centred
person, difficult
to accept you are
not interested
in my thoughts
and feelings

I am egoistic in the
extreme, learning
to respect your
opinions as your
due for being
such a great
caretaker

Conditional
friendship based
on subservience to
your rules and
regulations, a
benevolent
despot, to enjoy
the privilege

I must pay the
price with a smile
I owe you, tradeoffs
are a part of life
your good qualities
entitle you to
unlimited
intolerance

A Fortress Of Books

Looking for safety
behind my fortress
looking for a dream
to inspire visions

consciousness
affects reality, says
quantum physics

my mother sanguine
she will mend on her
own, eye socket and
fractured cheekbone

worry forbidden
it works against the
spiritual principle of
attracting a desired
outcome

feelings gone
thoughts outlawed
suspect sadness
lurking inside

no way to tell
no-one to talk to
no conversation

a fortress of books
protecting my soul

**************************************
A fortress of books, The French
Foreign Legion by James Wellard,
Art of Egyptian Hieroglyphics, The
Enchanted World of Seekers and
Saviours, Experience the Mystery
by David Regan and Don’t Sweat
the Small Stuff by Richard Carlson

Tune The Piano

Mother fell, I got an expert to
tune the piano. Sister angry
‘Give me the money, we
have to preserve life’ but
I believe quality is the
essence

Saving the piano saves my
mother’s soul, the rest is not
material gain, without access
to a musical instrument, she
might as well be
dead...

Who Needs Conversation

We prepare dinner together - we do NOT
share our thoughts, I forgot and repeated
discussions of earlier today- why can’t I
keep my ideas to myself

My trust in your goodness, which excludes
tolerance for my thoughts, tempted me to
explain how I felt until you abruptly
interrupted in frustration

‘I disapprove, did you really think all those
things, inapplicable in the extreme’ - your
vehemence surprising me, bemused I
wondered why you react like that

Kept quiet and stomped away, virtuously
you washed the dishes, happy to teach me
to hold my tongue - I appreciate your
goodness again, who needs

Conversation after all?


(Afrikaans version)

Doe So Voort

‘Ek het jou die mond gesnoer’ is jou
trotse kreet, jy het na my geluister
en verklaar toe ewe beleef ‘Goeie
hemel, maar jy is weird’

Werklik? Is dit wat jy dink van alles
wat ek sê? Ek beter nou in stilte
swyg, as jy moet weet wat ek
werklik aangevang het

Kry jy paparellakoors, dit wil ons vermy
ek hou nou my mond, niks verder vertel
gelukkig nog altyd daarin geslaag om
myself te ignoreer

Wyl jy ewe groots verklaar jy het ALLE
kennis in pag, halleluja, jou self-vol-
daanheid is bewonderenswaardig –
Doe So Voort!

18 September 2009

Stir Magic Into Life

My alter ego is leaving
reading the same books
liking the same things
speaking my language

She cannot adapt to life
in the trenches, cannot
give up feeling to be a
brick in the wall

She is free to chase her
own rainbows, she can
guard her mind against
an inhuman system

The rest of us stay in the
trenches to materially sur-
vive, we trim our dreams
to meet requirements

I will miss a kindred spirit
the sensitive always leave
to find the beauty they
dream of while I stay

Stirring magic into life
creating my own
secret dreams…

Victory Scares Me

Admiring joyous movements of
young performers which I can
never imitate

Joyful victory scares me, self-help
books claim we only attain what
we can visualize

Success eludes us if we long for
fun, but ambition seems empty
I cannot envision

A goal reached, I long for
adventures, preferring
spiritual wisdom

I enjoy writing down my
thoughts, words singing
a rhythmic melody

Lack of ambition is not a moral
failing, though society doesn't
allow it so

I only see colleagues and family
obligations superseding
a universe of dreams

My Tintelende Vreugdeboek Verdof

Vier mure teen die horison
my brein is toegewasem, ek
rig my oë op die einders, maar
bly vasgevang in die niksheid
van die nou

Ek sien geen drome binne die
watere van my rou, bewussyn
verstil tot swart en leeg en seer
in die onvermoë om die oomblik
vas te hou en

Tot betekenis te verhef, alleen,
eensaam binne die kring van my
vasgekettingde wete van die verlies
van hierdie dag in die hitte wat my
sintuie vul tot versadiging

Selfs my tintelendevreugdeboek
verdof in die diepte van vertwyfeling
ek staar vasgevang na my nuutste
woord ‘ronkedoor’ - ‘n soort olifant
sê die woordeboek

Opgevolg deur ‘ronsel’ soos in ontvoer
gevolg deur twee nuwe woorde, as jy
my ‘rong’ dan hou jy my staande en
as ‘n enjin ‘ronk’ dan dreunsing hy
soos ‘n kragopwekker

Ek het nie eens ‘n termostaat nie, die
hitte maak my vaak, waar sal ek nou
‘n kragopwekker vandaan haal, die
alombewussyn is liefdevol, maar
my brein is toegesluit

In ‘n subjektiewe ervaring
van stille eensaamheid…

Secrecy Of Anonymity

I daydream gladly strangers read my
writings, poems, satires, reminiscences
then fear the crash of everything, slurs
on character, gossip about misdeeds
all my colleagues, the roguish rumours
my cold criticism, self-righteousness
prejudice and harsh judgment

I grow cold in fear, how dare I say
so much, express opinions such
and quickly Cinderella change into
an underling, an observer anonymous
who serves the devil more because
she likes him for his faithfulness
in offering temptations’ desire

To everyone who needs relief from
imagined piety – being the source of
wonderful fun, showing all how sarcasm
taunting the haughty and condescending
helps release pent-up aggression against
self-assigned importance chronicling
my thoughts in secrecy of anonymity…

Scripting Life A Blessing

I wonder whether it was right to plan
my life before living it - reading letters
from those who just jumped in and
are stuck helpless, I realize that it
was the only way for me

I cannot dodge accountability,
accepting selfless dedication as my
premise I have to plan every step to
provide for myself and everyone
dependent on me

Hoping for happiness through hit
and run accidents isn’t me, resultant
lives of those who did and followed
inspiration spontaneously proved
the error since I was small

Hoping for the best when a manual
exists is idiocy - I imagine possibilities,
surely experiencing what it is like
which is good enough to convince me
scripting life is a blessing…

Tintelende Troetelsondes

Ek geniet die boeke van Oom Desnieteenstaande
Desondanks omdat sy oortuigings so duidelik uit
sy woorde skyn, omdat hy skryf met ‘n vonkel in
die oog en somtyds sprankelende hoogtes bereik

Sy inspirerende boodskappe dra slegs betekenis vir
dié wat reeds glo, vir my wat die boek nou al veertien
jaar bestudeer, is daar persoonlike notas en aan-
tekeninge oor gebedsverhoring in my handskrif

wat die boek ongelooflik kosbaar maak; ek geniet
dit om met Oom Desnieteenstaande te korswel en
sommer net dwars te wees, te lag oor woorde soos
parakleet, eerste keer in die tent gelees toe ons

in Cape Vidal uitgekamp het, die boek bevat soveel
vertroosting elke keer as iets verkeerd gegaan het;
ek was stomgeslaan toe my ma hom as niksseggend
afgekraak het – sy is ‘n Ferdinand-Deist-persoon

Maar Oom Tintelende Vreugde wat graag troetelsondes
uitwys sodat ek goed weet waar om vreugdevolle onheil
op te soek, raak my hart direk; waar Deist ‘n intellektuele
oefening bied – daar is plek vir albei in my lewe…

Turn Into A Diamond

Came in early, poured water
over the carpet, sitting here
in swimsuit and shorts, got
hold of water in a spray can
that had oil in it before, now
I shine like the rising sun, but
feel nicely cool

As soon as our local termagant
gives her permission I shall switch
on the small fan next to my chair
the noise is offensive she says
but later in the day she bears
it willingly, I am ready
to face the day

Buoyed up by the thought that
heat changes some carbon into
coal while others turn into diamonds
I shall turn into a diamond in the office
furnace today, while coal hearts burn
red-hot in their zeal and work effort
which I applaud

I shall shine with insight and vision
like a true diamond should, may the
fire burn even more brightly today!

Onvermoë En Stiksienigheid

Belaglik om vir kinders te leer doen jou bes
voordat mens weet wat hul vermoëns is, in-
dien die kind ‘n danser is wat tussen sangers
grootword en sy bes probeer en dan soos ‘n
aap vertoon en selfvertroue verloor en daarna
ook nie meer kan dans nie, word hy ‘n wrak
soos die meeste mense maar is

Ek is een van die onnoseles wat my bes probeer
om telkens weer te leer dat my beste onaanvaar-
baar is, die gevoel van vertwyfeling wanneer jou
beste as swak afgemaak en as pateties afgekraak
word, as jy niks meer het om te gee nie en agterbly
soos ‘n leë dop; leer ‘n kind om konteks en situasie
te bepaal, as hy tussen rawe grootword

Moet hy soos hulle kan raas, as jy in Rome kom, moet
jy soos die 'morone' maak, soos my broer altyd vertel het
ek het tot my spyt my heel beste gegee en groot was die
pyn toe ek moes leer dat dit nooit goed genoeg is nie - dis
heeltemaal verkeerd! Aangesien ek niks anders as my eie
onnosele self kan wees nie, het ek vrede gemaak met my
dalende graad van intelligensie

Ek het my versoen met my onvermoë en stiksienigheid en
grawe nou doodgelukkig in die donker rond, as iemand sê
die lug is van nature bruin en die aarde is blou en die see
is rooi, dan sê ek dankie en maak ‘n nota wie dit sê binne
watter konteks en leef dit uit binne die raamwerk gestel,
aangesien ek nie ‘n natuurlike aanvoeling het vir groeps-
gees en groepsgebruike nie

Hou ek boek van gewoontes, gedagtes en maniere om te
lyk asof ek inpas en nie soos ‘n breindood aap eenkant te
staan nie, ek aanvaar dat my brein ‘n rekenaar is wat op
die verkeerde klankstelling en kleurkodes vasgehak het
en dat ek slegs uit genade nog in die samelewing aan-
vaar word; ek stort my ketterse gedagtes uit op
papier en hou my opinies vir myself

Ek hou voorskriftelike idiotiese vrouetydskrifte dop
maak seker ek weet waarmee ek nie saamstem nie, ek
hou my mond en luister so goed ek kan; monotone stemme
sonder melodie dryf my teen die mure uit, dus kan ek nie
die luisteraarskuns bemeester nie, en liefde vir vooroordeel
en selfsug het ek nie, dus kan ek nie negatiewe geskrifte
lees nie – solank ek andere respekteer

Nie my nare gedagtes hard uitspreek nie, gaan dit meestal
heel voor die wind...

Shorts With A Wet Top

Under the air-con in my kitchen
delighted and at peace, with a
fresh breeze touching me softly
now I can breathe, all my troubles
are gone, the air so lovely cool

Every second of enforced distance
from the heavenly air-con feels like
death, to be comfortable is the best
experience on earth after a fatiguing
day, took Nici to the doctor

A hot pharmacy, now the spiritual joy
of rejuvenation of body and soul, says
my solemn guru that the more I focus
on the heat at work, the more I will
attract it, when I learn to ignore it

It will go away, at least at home I can
be cool, under the air-con I shall stay
experiencing a type of nirvana, I could
wear my swimsuit to the office, shower
under a plastic container, possibilities

Are endless - soon I will attract a cool
atmosphere to the office, wear shorts
with a wet top; anything goes, as long
as it makes me feel better, if I am
sacked for unruly behaviour

It will have been worth it!

Senseless Series Of Events

Wanting to, Should, Have To
and Must is not enough to shock
my system into action, I close my
eyes and survive without any sense
of awareness

Life running down like an old movie
reel, half broken and uneven, conscious
of great loneliness, texts around me are
meaningless, mailbox empty, nothing
stirs my feelings

I might be dead as far as my thoughts are
concerned, I hoped death would increase
ability, not decapacitate completely, this feels
like being a grain of sand in the desert
a new form of existence

Breathing slowly in the heat, meaningless
breaths in a senseless series of events…

Ad Hoc Task As Security Guard

I offered my services, an ad hoc task, as
security guard of the air-con at terminology
sitting right underneath to keep it safe against
possible thieves, as I grew bored I made my
swivel chair swing and created my own merry-
go-round while I softly sing, but when it became
too boring to remain

I returned to my chair next to the flaming window
from where the heated air keeps rising, strangely
enough, I manage to muster enough courage to
express my pain in a poem, but the boring letter
without any sense cannot hold my attention
although my fear is intense that I might be
sacked for lack of incentive

Lack of prowess and lack of common-sense
but I cannot concentrate in this heat, feeling
delighted when the ability to play helps me
to pass the dreary day in this fiery furnace
they call a work-place, but which should
ultimately be dubbed Bridge Over The
River Kwai!

Allure Of Temperature

If my inspirational book is right about
everybody appreciating everything my
employer should be grateful for me sitting
here in 35 degrees, mind empty, spirit
broken, defenceless against the
allure of increasing temperature

Giving up the good fight, giving in to
temptation, being sinful and evil, doing
nothing, too tired to plague colleagues,
too hot to read or surf the Internet, maybe
catatonia is the objective so others can
work while I stare at the roof while I
must take my work home

Tonight when cool I shall concentrate
a heat wave from the superheated window
is burning my skin and searing my mind,
changing my thoughts into mush; I am tough,
I can die standing at my post, I just cannot
think when my cortex turns to Jell-O

My characters left ages ago, refusing to
entertain me in temperatures that are
deemed deadly by those in the know
why we should be forced to work in a
volcano I’ll never fathom, the only thing
left is to endure without bothering
the soldiers who suffer with me

Lost My Motivation

Sitting in the infernal heat
reading ‘appreciation of self
is the most important thing
on earth, next to a selfish de-
sire to be happy, so much so
that I only look for aspects
of delight in everything’

The only problem is the
discomfort in my body, while
I love being amongst my hap-
less colleagues so serious and de-
dicated, convinced of the eternal
value of doing their best, the stifling
heat makes my head hurt

I have lost my motivation on which I
worked so hard last night, reading an
inspirational book assuring me that we
need to be thankful for everything, I am
afraid appreciation of the heat simply means
I cannot refrain from falling asleep

Typing three words before I lose the ability
to work under duress, I cannot do my best
in soaring temperatures that keep increasing
as the sun rises to its zenith on the horizon
self-pity takes over and I lose all interest in
the precious aspects of awareness

Plotting my own demise so that my spirit can rise
from this dimension into the hereinafter where
existence continues beyond the material and
physical, temperature will then become a
theoretical concept that will never
touch me again!

Gevleuelde Tong Vol Prettigheid

Male sonder tal is ek myself tot droefheid
kla en kerm oor my lot, sing Jermiades oor
al my ellende, fokus op foute en tekortko-
minge, siektes en probleme, swaarkry en
teleurstellings in ‘n verlammende siekte
van die gees!

Die oplossing sou wees, meen ‘n groot gees,
om vrede met myself te maak, selfbejammering
af te skud, perspektief in chaos vind; indien mens
‘n geestelike laagwatermerk bereik, terneergedruk
in twyfel, wanhoop en selfbejammering, moet mens
lofsing in dankbaarheid

Want, gaan die groot gees voort, mens verlustig jou
in probleme met die heimlike hoop dat oplossings
nooit gevind sal word nie, mens teer op andere se
simpatie en geniet pynlike selfbejammering met die
heerlikste behae, die lewe voel salig sinneloos as
mens verveeld en ontevrede is

Hoe meer gesofistikeerd die lewe is sodat mens afdaal
tot in die dieptes van geestelike neerslagtigheid – die
teëgif is om met verwondering en verwagting op te
staan en met gevleuelde voete op die lewenspad te
gaan en altyd in liefde en blydskap te dien; dis ‘n
vreugde om die groot gees te lees

Klink my om in sak en as te sit is ‘n heerlikheid en
dis ‘n saak van pret en plesier om pyn te ly, geen
wonder ons doen dit so graag nie, klink my ‘n
gevleuelde tong vol prettigheid is die beste
manier om vreugde te vind na soveel
droewigheid...

Nici's Wonderful Presence

Happy Birthday dear Nici
may you always be head-
strong and full of fun

May you increase in self-
confidence, may your circle
of friends always grow

May your wisdom show how
the life you shared with us
infused us with hope

May you always experience
love, may your laughter and
discipline when we mess up

Always inspire us to try harder
to be better people, thank you
for your wonderful presence

Enriching our lives, filling us
with joy and delight...

12 September 2009

Nici’s Sixteenth Birthday

Nici’s sixteenth birthday, loving and
self-confident, chasing rainbows and
friends, I cry for the passage of time
when I am alone, the short, brief mo-
ment she belonged to me as a little
child almost gone

Asserting herself she becomes wiser
and braver, we do not clash as we give
her freedom to develop her strength,
she is very superior, looks down on
her mom as a kind of archaic child
while I believe

Kids bring direct connections to faith,
hope and energy and should be allowed
to teach their elders, she loves being in
charge, taking the lead, she gets the op-
portunity to be the lady of the house
in her childhood home

Testing herself before she faces the world
I keep my tears to myself, she delights in
being grown-up while I quietly Iament the
loss of my little girl

12 September 2009

Broken Collarbone Discussion

Should Tiaan take his revenge or let it be?
The men, Marthinus whose collarbone was
broken also, all agree, take your revenge for
the pain and sport opportunities lost, I dis-
agree, revenge is the beginning of a vicious
circle, why terrorise kids for stupidity?

Let it be, Tiaan’s collarbone is mending,
fighting about it will not change anything
simply deteriorate the whole situation, though
two tackled Tiaan, they could not have aimed
for the collarbone with military precision

Marthinus recommends Tiaan get his matric
friends to help in the revenge – I give up, look
for my book on scripting my life, quite clearly
we are creating different places male and
female, the male war syndrome does not
please me at all...

As He Croons I Will Swoon

I admit guilt, I would much rather look
at models, mannequins, American film
stars and beautiful people in magazines
than the man – or woman – in the street

Paging through hubby’s magazine ‘The
Home Handyman’ starting from the back
where Rod Baker’s article on a ‘doddery
old coffin-dodger’* is illustrated with

Photos of ordinary people, not models or
mannequins, I am ashamed to admit that
people look awful without makeup, air-
brushing and subterfuge, I’m sure

I would have gone for surgery if hubby did
not so assiduously insist that he loves me
but he understands the female spirit, as
long as he croons I will swoon

I believe him implicitly and defer visits
to beauticians, I think he knows this, his
sweet compliments keep me from running
to moneymongers to fix face and body

Most people will admit it is a feast for the
eyes to look on Brad Pitt and Chuck
Bartovsky, Michele Pfeifer, Sandra
Bullock – hubby loves them

As long as he loves me also, I shall not
have my face fixed – but -
I am watching him!


‘The Home Handyman’ Projects / Home
Improvements / Expert Advice
Your DIY magazine
September 2009 – Vol 16 No 9
Article ‘Back-to-back’ Rod Baker p64
Quote * ‘A Doddery Old Coffin-Dodger’

Attend the Fairytale Event

Says my positive book to script desired
events as I wish them to be, I often script
a fairytale poetry event where poets ancient
and contemporary convene, from Shakespeare
to Eugene Marais, from Goethe to Lamartine

I am a protocol officer, doing undercover
spying of course, since the event is so unreal
and based on impossibility, my positive book
says it cannot take place, I derive so much
joy from this daydream

I have not been able to script a real poetry bash
those I have read about taking place in Las Vegas
scare me too much; my fairytale event rarely gets
underway, my spy character usually discovers a
stall offering swimming activities

Then makes a long detour before joining the academic
thing, buys a new diving suit and goes surfing, when it
is time to stop daydreaming I never even created the
fictitious convention at all

Sometimes my fictitious character will board a flight to
attend such an event and gets sidetracked at the air-
port, discovers a magic toy shop and the rest of the
dream concerns the exploration of that wonderful
Aladdin’s cave

According to my positive book it means I am not focused
enough and my authorship ambitions cannot be realized
because I am more determined to have fun, sometimes
my character ends up at a musical festival instead of an
intellectual poetry conference

Once or twice I even succeeded in making my character
attend the fairytale event, but as an anonymous spy, I
become so involved in the plot of this mystery that the
discussion of poetry does not develop at all, says my
positive book we shall get what we dream about

My conclusion is that I shall end up as a spy and
never get to attend an academic event
but I may grow up yet...

12 September 2009

Feeling Of Cathedral Peace

Sins catching up with me - a budget
is an alien concept, now I see why it
should be the first thing
I should watch

I overspent, hubby at his wit’s end
faced with my financial sins - why
do I try to live an esoteric
spiritual life

If I cannot survive by doing things
by law-of-attraction, reform time
as of now I shall live a
Spartan life

No more hedonistic trips to restau-
rants, rational food provisions or
none at all, the end of
consumerism

Just before lunch I found a dream
a moment spent in meditation
sweet, using mechanisms
that override

The ravages of time returning to the
dream inside that keeps my spirit
strong, my heart forever
young

Life is but a script we write ourselves
a blessed feeling of cathedral peace
fills my mind with hope and
faith

Feelings Ignite In Pain

The saviour’s name is Roelof Serfontein, at
nine I found the story for the first time, it
preserved my mind when allergy destroyed
my world, his character gave me courage
to cherish high ideals while descending
in the pit of depression and guilt

A safe refuge for my thoughts as the world
ends, he still sends forth his ideas on pain
and deprivation for excellence, his story
was created to meet the needs of kids
author Stella Blakemore needed him
insight enabled her to construct

And endow him with the existential angst that
explains my own painful situation, with a dream
in charge I can face the nothingness because we
share the same experience and we always rise
again, a children’s series that still helps
me deal with my sensitivities

Providing an armour impervious to the slings
and arrows of fate that brought Hamlet down
creating a fantasy world in my head that keeps
my spirit safe when my soul burns in flames, pro-
tecting my heart when my feelings ignite in pain

Funny Bill Flynn Songs

Factotum Chris brought encouraging
news, the security guard on the seventh
floor passed out in the heat, therefore
he recommends we should rejoice in
the fact that none of us have managed
to fall down yet

Pity then that the thick fog in my head
does not allow for celebrations, listening
to funny Bill Flynn songs is not helping
enough, though I enjoy the rhythm in
‘Die Ford Escourt van Boksburg Noord
se brieke het gefail’

Shrapnel Of Warbled Tune

I have nobody to talk to, she cried, answered
she herself in a stern aside, it is because you
speak a different language and nobody cares
to learn your strange vocabulary, better give
up and learn to speak as everyone else, use
the same nouns and verbs to designate
the same common-sense ideas

She turned away ashamed, she cannot give up
her language now, a construct of so many years
produced while wading through a vale of tears
the culmination of all her thoughts and dreams
even when she screams in isolated loneliness
she holds her language dear, she cannot sell
her soul for aught, she looks up

And listens to the song of those who sing with
different harmonies, she joins the chant her col-
leagues repeat determinedly then turns away in
tears, it does not work, there are no overtones
the sound is wrong, the melody is gone and
the shrapnel of the warbled tune hurts her
skin while blood is dripping everywhere

Daggers meant for those apart cleft her mind
and opened up her guilty heart, underneath
we are all the same and every knife turned
upon one another finds its mark in us…

Indict And Ridicule Myself

With every word
I say against anybody
I indict and ridicule myself

Making more space for the black
hole to grow - my only hope is in
nobility and I have none, I hang on

To a sacred image and cry my tears alone

Sinking In Criticism

Sitting in my chair from where I
can roam the Internet on my Via
Dolorosa through the universe, as
long as I don't move, talk to friends
or live; typing anonymously

Looking for things to appreciate
cherishing friendship messages
before engulfed by the abyss, the
black hole in my head, I face the
dark alone

I take my dreams with me, shiny
thoughts until all vanish in my
mind’s black hole gravity, only
one holographic image remains
shining like Indra’s pearls

A fragment of his name, Dr Serfontein
recreates the universe when I shine my
laser mind upon the magic of his words
he remains when all else fails, the world
sinks beneath the waves

Dragged down by judgmental
words, sinking in the sea of
criticism, sentenced and
imprisoned here
for eternity...

An Ill-Fitting Mask

The silver chord between
physical manifestation and
inner astral being is almost
severed

The body’s tectonic plates
move over each other till
nerve endings erupt like
miniature volcanoes

Wearing an ill-fitting mask
of a face blocking all flow
of life-sustaining
substances

Never judge dependency on
anything, if all feel as bad as
I do with the allergy
untreated

Most importantly, never
judge until I have been
in the very same
situation

‘n Lekker Sin Vir Humor

Dis so heerlik om te weet ons stoere
voorgeslagte het so ‘n lekker sin vir
humor gehad, in my prille jeug het
ek gedink ons voorgeslagte was
vreeslik styf en korrek

Langenhoven het mos eenkeer gesê
“Helfte van julle is donkies” en toe
hy voor stok gekry is, het hy ewe
vroom verklaar “Helfte van julle
is nie donkies nie!”

Dit klink my Langenhoven was regtig
‘n vrolike ou, ten spyte van sy pedan-
tiese skryfstyl vir klein kindertjies, sy
Geeste wat Wandel is lekker leesstof
en sy Afrikaanse Wiegeliedjie

Maak op vir elke denkbare fout – dis
die mooiste lied wat ek ken...

Afrikaanse Wiegeliedjie FAK 1940
Lied No. 126 p. 148

Kry Sowaar Die Ritteltits

‘n FAK-Volksangbundel in 1940 gedruk, ek
lag al heelaand heerlik oor Aletta Brink se
‘Tommie loop ‘n bloutjie - 1901’ manlief
grinnik al te lekker oor die lawwigheid
gelukkig verstaan die meeste Tommies
nie Afrikaans nie, hierdie pret moet ek
deel met my medenaaste

Tommie vra die boerenooi ewe kordaat
‘Darling wilt thou be my bonny bride’ die
onverfynde plat-op-die-aarde-nooientjie
antwoord hom ewe paraat ‘Nee my neef
jou bek is skeef...’ ek hou op lees en lê
soos ek lag, dis skreeusnaaks, as my
Engelse vriende dit moet hoor

Kry hulle sowaar die ritteltits, ek hoop tog
niemand met agterdogtige neigings hoor
ooit hierdie versie nie, dit gaan erger al
verder – ‘Jou rug is al te krom en jy lyk
nes ‘n kreef’- maar die amoreuse En-
gelsman beur voort: ‘Darling why so
stern and proud?’

Ek skree van die lag, dis vreeslik komies
veral haar dwars antwoord: ‘Mama hy wil
my verneuk...’ dis verbode growwe woorde
van my kleintyd, die woorde ‘verneuk’ en
‘bekke, smoel, pote en vreet’ mag nie
deur opgevoede kinders gebruik word
nie en hier staan die verbode woorde

In die hoogheilige volksangboek, die
voorbeeldige FAK!


Federasie van Afrikaanse Kultuur
FAK Volksangbundel Uitgegee deur
JH De Bussy, 1940 - Lied Nommer
175 ‘n Tommie loop ‘n bloutjie (1901)
Aletta Brink p. 203

In Weergalose Soet Refrein

Kleur gee betekenis aan my lewe, sê sy en sing:
'Die winter met sy koue wat dood bring en verderf

……………….......LAA ………………........LAA..
la-laa…….....la..… …........la-laa……...la..…....
……….... la……..…………..............la……...........

met reëngeruis en helder sonneskyn, met voëlgesang
die heeldag lang, in weergalose soet refrein'

Verander die fontkleur na blou, kommentaar
in rooi, terwyl haar brein inmekaar pers in 'n
statiese swart oomblik van ruisende lugver-
sorging versmeltend met die agtergrond-
suising van die oerknal wat steeds voort-
druis soos die slim kosmoloë vertel...


Intog van die Lente “Lore, des Försters Tochter”
FAK 1940 Lied No. 276 p. 318

Nonexistent Nondisclosure

Without noticing it, I changed into a Buddhist
observing the world without preconceptions
discovering the joy of existing like a pebble
washed up on the beach

I have lost my Calvinist work ethic which
was very weak to begin with, to say the
least, I enjoy the peace, oblivious to the
sinister undertones seen in

Threatening e-mails discovered by nervous
Christine with her unnerving work ethic, her
ceaseless activity shames the rest of society
a nervous tic on her lips

I admonished her to sit back and relax, but
she ran off to write a note of nondisclosure
of interests since she has none, she in-
sisted with vehemence

June regarded her with intrigued amusement
we never tender, thus no need to bestir our-
selves and reply to queries directed to
members of parliament

Yet Christine is writing such fiery submissions
on nondisclosure of nonexistent interests
it would shame a saint…

Wish For Sartorial Company

With all role-players and stakeholders gone on
the Literature thing, literature-less me is staring
forlorn in the distance, an act I have acquired
and mastered at the Emergency Room, feeling
listless

I have Griffin’s Castle by Jenny Nimmo ready as
there is no-one to talk to, June always delighted
by translations that drive me to tears, Hermien
loves repetitive tasks that take me years, cor-
respondents are gone

There must be bubonic plague somewhere, maybe
swine flu took its toll on my few acquaintance, I am
still struggling with sore throat and blocked nose
family members are fed up with life and the strife
to keep the body alive

Hubby grumbles because I take my work troubles
home, the hellish temperature does not interest
him in his industrially cooled office, my guru says
while I feel like this I can forget finding a friend -
I hang on to my book with religious fervour

The only refuge for my purgatorial soul, wish I had
more sartorial company, but it is not to be…


Jenny Nimmo “Griffin’s Castle” Methuen
Children’s Books, 1994

Wake Up My Spirit

Stupefied reading June’s message this morning
had she completely changed overnight, a sudden
change of style, of pace, of face, of being, what
could it mean? Looked again –

****************************************
-----Original Message-----
From: June [mailto:June@]
Sent: 09 September 2009 04:09 PM
Subject: DD/FLEA out of office: 10 & 11 September

…attending Literature development thing for two days…
Hermien, please be the "answering questions" person; do
not accept or reject any documents while I'm away -
Hanlie - accept only short documents…
Thoko, please do the filing…

*****************************************
No, all is well, a message from Karen only sent
from June’s computer, such a dramatic change
would put the case of the Three Faces Of Eve to
shame, it is the brisk, no-nonsense orders

From the Boss, June would never be so superior and
imperial, she would much rather laugh at such a
grandiose bearing, she is a belligerent spirit
doing her own thing, not issuing orders

For all kinds of unfathomable reasons, the world
still is a wonderful place, now to wake up my
spirit and convince it to carry on doing
work received from hell itself…

Brein-Verdomlikte Ek

O Vader van genade, oral waar ek kyk
sien ek net spelfoute, Liefie sit en TV
kyk, dit sneeu in die Kaap, oor twee
weke is ons ook daar, Tiaan met sy
arm vasgedraai, ‘n nuwe kar, ‘n groot
nuwe karnivoor wat gelei word deur
die duiwel van tegnologie om te trap
in sy spoor, ‘n kattebak so groot soos
die Karoo, ‘n voorkant met hout geseën
‘n konsole met prentjies en twiet-twiet
geluide om my te verwar, ek is in my
ghwar, om met hierdie kar te ry, klink
te veel soos tegnologiese wonders
en dit is te veel vir my, tegnologies-
gestremde en brein-verdomlikte ek!

Cherished The Compliment

I used to think that people I love would be
as interested in me as I was in them until
realizing my interest in him only concerned
mutual ideas, never intending to know
everything

He never cared whether I was swimming or
doing aerobics, his interest primitive, mine
esoteric, both self-centered in the extreme
the only factor that made it work was his
discernment

I could tell him so many things because he
opened up and explained those things I
suspected, preparing me to be wary of
so many things afterwards, reading
the signs

Knowing the meaning of specific gestures, I
loved his honesty and reciprocated by being
honest in return, he shared his soul with me
I cherished the compliment – I shared my
soul with him

And he knew it...

******************************************
I did not attend his funeral – I never attend
such events, it goes against my principles,
for my own I would prefer drunken revelry...

Konstrueer 'n Godheid

O vreugde, daar is nog baie lewens wat kom
daar is geen dood soos in verlies aan denke
en bewussyn nie, ek gaan die lesse wat
hierdie lewe my geleer het, toepas in
alle bewussynstrome waarin my
denke mag verkeer

Die belangrikste - wees onafhanklik, moet niks
verwag nie; bewaar eie gedagtes - dit is is ons
kosbaarste besitting; gevoelens weerspieël hier-
die denke, verstaan die wêreld as ‘n mensge-
maakte illusie en vrees absoluut niks omdat
alles binne my bewussyn bestaan

Niks kan my bedreig nie behalwe as ek daarin
glo - hoe vertraag om kinders van die duiwel te
leer en die denkkonstruk te versterk, hoe oulik
om te probeer ‘n godheid konstrueer wat
goedheid en liefde versinnebeeld, hoe
simpel om godsbeelde met jaloesie

Veroordeling en wraaksug te besoedel, hoe nutte-
loos om godheid met vader- en moederskap voor
te stel, die mens wat sy eie idees propageer; hoe
heerlik om te lees van ‘n bo-wêreldse intelligensie
wat ‘n kode daarstel sodat ons gebeure daarin kan
lees, ‘n bewys dat bewussyn

En alomteenwoordigheid buite die skepping kan be-
staan, hoe verwronge ookal voorgestel, hoe heerlik
om hierdie gedagtes te koester en misteries te
ondersoek, baie lekkerder as om vervelige
antwoorde in mense se kele af te druk!

Bewussynsbeskikking, Halleluja

Daar het jy dit nou, hartjie seer, mag nie vertel
hoekom nie, nie eens die waarheid aan papier
toevertrou nie - diegene wat nie mag weet nie;
onwettige redes vir die hartseer – kan dalk uit-
vind, wie wil die risiko loop om gestraf te word
oor iets wat alreeds my hart wil breek?

‘n Lekker afranseling deur ‘n familielid ‘Raak ge-
woond daaraan dat almal jou ignoreer’ bliksem,
ek is REEDS gewoond daaraan, sedert kleintyd
sorg ek om met die skaduwees ineen te smelt –
niemand het van my geweet nie, halleluja, weer
verwerp vanaand weens vandag by die werk

Abraham sê ‘n Hartseer mens trek pyn aan, slegs
wanneer ons self vrolik voel, word ‘n vriendelike
reaksie ontlok – vanaand is ‘n prentjie-aand, om
na prentjies te staar totdat alle gevoel verstar, tot-
dat die heelal net uit simbole bestaan, totdat my
brein inkonk, dalk het my brein lankal uitgebrand

Sal dit nie heerlik wees om eendag heeltemaal
eerlik te wees, almal na hulle maai te stuur en
net my eie ding te doen nie? Miskien is daar tog
‘n sielsgenoot vir my, miskien sal ek die persoon
nog eendag kry, miskien word al my drome nog
waar – indien nie in my leeftyd nie

Dan wel in een van my toekomstige lewens – die
oneindigheid lê nog voor, dis wat ek glo, ek kan
nie wag nie om die toekoms te ontdek, hierdie
leeftyd was maar ‘n redelike gemors, as ek my
lesse onthou, kan ek vorder; ek glo in vooruit-
gang en bewussynsbeskikking, halleluja!

Elke Môre Met Sonnegoudtower

‘O ek het ‘n perd en ‘n blinkvosperd en ‘n
splinternuwe saal, en ek klim op my perd
my blinkvosperd en ek kom om jou te haal
want jy het gesê as ek jou wil hê dan moet
ek jou kom haal, op ‘n mooi ryperd en ‘n
blinkvosperd en ‘n splinternuwe saal’

‘As ek ver in die veld op ‘n kolperd ry dan voel
ek vry en ek sing so bly en ek sing van die veld
van my land so skoon, my land so skoon waarin
ek woon’, ‘Kent gij dat volk vol heldenmoed en
toch so lank geknecht, Piet Hein zij naam is klein,
zijn daden bennen groot Hij heeft gewonnen den

Zilvervloot’, ‘Kyk hoe maak die kêrel daar ‘n
Kaapse draai, die Kaapse nooiens sing tingeling-
e-ling, tingeling-e-ling hoera, hoe ry die boere sit-
sit-so, kyk die kar se wiele dit gaan om om om -
en die draaghout antwoord met ‘n klop klop klop
en die kêrel skree Pasop ek kom!’ ‘Daar kom die wa

Die vierperdewa, hy het nie naam nie, sy naam moet
hy nog kry’, ‘Die sweep het geklap en die wawiele draai
al agter die rooi span aan, ons harte is swaar want die
afskeid is daar van die plaas waar ons tuiste staan’, ‘Ek
groet vir laas my gryse berge, fraaiste op die ganse aard
want môre moet ek ver na lande, ver van hier

Van huis en haard’, uitspan vanaand, uitspan op Mooifontein
Hotagter, Haaragter vat nou die wa, geluk lê net om die draai
‘Waar die spruitjie kletter-klater en die son ons fel begroet
waar die helder frisse water vrolik wegvloei langs ons voet
Land van die eike en heldergroen lower, ruisende graanveld
en pêrelende wyn, waar elke môre met sonnegoudtower
skitt’rend die Suiderkruis nagt’liks verskyn’

‘Landman landman saai getrou, laat die grond die saad maar
hou, kyk hoe swaar die landman swoeg, hoe hy werk en saai
uit die vore diep geploeg, sal hy eenmaal maai, ‘Goue koring
goue hawer, goue gars, Piet is nog jonk maar hy boer ‘n bars
Piet is myne ek is syne as die oestyd eers verby is’ – ‘en as ek
net wis wie die mooiste een is, dan was een van hulle nou myne'

‘Een aand op ‘n dans in Oom Willem se skuur staan 'n meisie
alleen teen die oorkantste muur, sy glimlag vir my en voor ek
my kon kry, dis ‘n wals, Willemiena, dis ‘n wals is dit nie?'


FAK Potpourri Deel IV

In Till Eulenspiegel Terms

I come to the office like a veritable
Till Eulenspiegel following the letter
of the law, sitting at my desk, endu-
ring the heat, making no complaints

A soldier on duty - just as Till kept the
letter of the law forbidding him to let
his feet touch the kingdom’s soil, he
simply brought his own instead

Loaded a wagon with soil and sat on
it when passing through the forbidden
kingdom, escaping from death because
no-one may touch his neck in beheading

I am here in Till Eulenspiegel’s terms
manning my post while there is a fire
raging in my head, cold symptoms
making it impossible to concentrate

But I get paid to serve needy clients, work
alongside valiant colleagues in the heated
trenches, sniffing and spreading germs, in
two weeks’ time I am going on leave, cannot

Lie down and leave everybody to their own
devices, I always put in an appearance, doing
my best to sit up straight, checking translations
causing nihilistic attacks of such existential crisis

Feeling like Death himself, fires raging in my head
as I have already said, but I am forging on, moment
by dreary, drab, grey and meaningless moment, the
little Alien in my head already almost dead

More Things To Love

Only solution that ever works for the allergy
is to eat sugars for instant energy, followed by
instant let-downs, bien entendu, but at least a
momentary revival of interest in life is worth
several hours of pain and confusion

Life is a trade-off between ups and downs, an
average of neutral middle-of-the-road moments
neither passionate nor desperate, is a worthless
deal, I prefer paying in blood for the things I
love to sitting in restful calm with things that
cannot stir my soul or move my spirit

I want to live while I'm alive, I'm sorry I complain
when I feel bad, but if I did not I cannot exult in the
good times, I had reached a state of resigned calm
long ago - neither up nor down, life turned grey
like ashes, everything seemed horribly dead

To be able to feel joy welling up, I willingly accept
the gnashes where pain sears, burning welts in my
skin, every crevice becomes the birthplace of more
joy than before, the best is, nothing leaves a scar
everything heals beautifully, the pain is needed
in advance to create space for the joy to come

Whatever the deal, if enthusiasm and passion are part
of it, count me in, I love unguardedly, give totally, grieve
unrestrictedly, bleed internally, lamenting profusely and
in the raw place formed by the pain new sources of
fulsome joy grow, fountains of energy surging upwards

I keep a look-out for more things to love, subjects and
people, though the clashes between people I love make
me ill, I go on loving them and always will, BOTH are
right at the same time, if only they could learn not to
force their opinions on each other all the time

Oh, people are wonderful, even though they put
daggers in my heart, I shall always embrace them
hug them, adore them, keep my laments to myself
and those who suffer through my outpourings on
paper, the long-suffering page taking care of my
secrets so well…

Feeling Boredom And Nihilism

Started the day the breakfast way cold medication
following rules and regulations guaranteed to cure
everyone from what ails them, what with my allergy
I have managed to become depressed, lethargic all
compounded by a feeling of boredom and nihilism
life as meaningless, the single unit of NOW time, the
ubiquitous present is become a gaping emptiness
stuck without interest ensnared in existential questions

The why of existence, the ethical imperative, my own
desire for inspiration finding none trying to work up
motivation even less of that around, I am bound in a
prison of my own making, a slice of bread deadly, dry
biscuits double dose of Unheil und Elend, only a Terry
Pratchett could save me, no book at hand only Abraham’s
assurance we are in charge of our own lives so comforting
to know this is a mess of my own making

I read in 'Why Me, Why This, Why Now?' by Robin Norwood
we even chose our parents, date of birth and life-problems
ourselves, Wayne Dyer confirms this, even before I entered
this vale of tears I had chosen the allergy - the only possible
reason must be that I am such a glutton without it I would have
waddled worse than a duck, even with that restriction I manage
to gain weight until I look like a wobbling walrus with a smile, I
must have known how valuable the experience of existential angst

Would be in grounding me in the 21st century that must be
reason I chose it but on days like today bored out of my wits
when even running away seems a boring alternative I am
most heartily sorry about the pre-birth choices I supposedly
made and would rather change them…

Expiring Artfully With Rosary

Oh no, oh no, oh no, this cannot
be real, it cannot be so hot, I can-
not be sitting here, this is a scene
from a horror movie, incinerated in
our chairs, we are in the trenches
sitting with dripping-wet towels
draped on my head

Even the greatest Stoic cannot survive
we are being roasted alive, my corpse
will be draped by refresher towels when
they find me, what a beautiful scene, I
shall be clutching an artificial flower posy
expiring artfully while saying a rosary
killed by the air-con

A sexy white towel on my head, I feel so
cute peeking from under the strip
covering my eye…

Pole-Dancing Hat Stands

Chuck Bartovsky should make a movie in
our open-plan office, descending to redo
our kinky computer system, posing as
Wendelin Wiedeking with a wicked
grin, then swinging down on
the end of a rope

Driving off in a fast Porsche, I shall be
a CIA spy letting him into the building
wearing a red T-shirt with refresher
towels sticking out at the sides, an
eccentric character à la Agatha
Christie - how’s that

The beginning of a new series
with our pole-dancing hat
stands, toxic air-cons and
medieval-shield footrests
showcased to advantage

In The flames Of Hades

In the Hades flames of the broken
air-con open-plan office, a stack of
wet refresher towels, a towel on each
arm like angels’ wings, one on back
another serviette-like in front

I am used to feverish allergy, one slice
of bread and I perspire like a horse in a
sauna, Dr Jokweni so impressed with
my innovative cooling strategies
begs for more of my energy

The only way to endure the
sulphurous atmosphere…

Dance In Ecstasy

Quote for the day:
“My imagination attracts” therefore the music
I imagine will be attracted

The understanding, the sharing and
interest, the camaraderie, the mental
compatibility

The noble ideas and lodestar ideals, the
dance will take place in ecstasy in a setting
of incomparable beauty

Guided by the highest principles of friendship
and loyalty, creating the most sumptuous
love experience

Recorded for eternity …

Marvelous Munificent Despot

The science fair was a scare
too many people, you did fan-
tastic, sat through the ceremony
I could not stand it, you changed
it into a positive event

You drove us up and down town
baseball and science fair, grumbling
but caring, complaining but protective
no refusal to help us through an impos-
sible day, leading us safely

At the end of the day I fell on my bed, you
still kept going, you told me your problems
I was ashamed of my harsh judgment while
you had such a difficult time, you never turned
away, took care of it all

When I judge you, it only proves I am judg-
mental, your sterling value is hidden by
daily routines, my selfish complaints
emphasize how wonderful your
loving kindness

We know you love us, you absolutely
marvelous munificent benevolent despot
though we do not show our appreciation
in our frustration, we know you love us
completely, and we love you too

Absolutely!

I Am My Own Enemy!

Tomorrow back to the war zone
where my clan is facing an out-
sider who does not know how my
colleagues have fought to save me
from danger again and again

Helped me when I fell down in pain
until hubby came, my loyalty will be
inviolate to the group of people who
kept me sane in a mad, dangerous
confusing world in which

I am my own biggest enemy!

A Sweet Fountain

Finally your words spilled over me
like a sweet fountain of life-giving
water, you buried your problems
and listened to me, the dam wall
broke, I told you my sorrows

Though you explained my miscon-
ceptions and self-recrimination and
offered solutions for every difficulty
the relief was short-lived – lasting
until nightmares invaded sleep

You explained that we cannot accept
responsibility for the actions of other
people, I agreed, while my spirit is
agitated in me, tension backache
and nausea belying my words

The fresh air of your words is washing
over me, the light of understanding is
dawning, I appreciate your intention
to help while you have your own
problems to solve

Though I cannot apply solutions im-
mediately, the kindness you have
shown me is an act of love that will
stay with me always

Reach For The Divine

I emulated everyone who made it in the
system, represented rational principles
logical, cool and consistent, but I
discovered it was a bad act I
could not sustain

I could not become a good imitation and an
original I would not be, living my life as a
second-rate imitation of practical
sense, cutting myself
internally

Until I found visions and dreams beyond the
illusion of reality, appreciating infinity, time
unlimited in which to reach for the divine
become a being sublime, never getting
it done

Aiming higher every time and never getting
it wrong as there is no perfect ending
the universe goes on and on
ad infinitum!

Individualism Is An Offence

A desired event expected creates the
same, I will break free of the assembly
line as soon as I've learnt to be
humble and kind

I admire standardized work done
through dedication and sacrifice, I failed
to master the art, I shall break free
use my abilities

I'll learn obedience in tasks I cannot
accomplish - teaching me of suffering
and pain, there is a place for
all of us

Our talents can be used to mankind’s
advantage, until I reach that place I must
remain a certain failure - which teaches
me to understand

Pain of existence is a standardized world
says individualism is an offence and
hiding myself in shame only
worsens it…

A Perfect Road Hog

Desperate to get some work done
I got hold of some boiled sweets
lovely to taste, creating adrenaline
high, sugar fluctuation, worked like
a horse through the afternoon

When I got hold of my big monster
car I accelerated down every street
cut in front of every slow-moving
vehicle, a perfect road-hog, making
Auntie Medusa of The Rescuers

Look like the sweetest being on earth,
putting a halo around the head of Cruella
DeVille of a 101 Dalmations fame, as I
stormed down the road, cars spread out
to make space, I enjoyed the sensation

While my blood raced and Nici closed her
shocked eyes, too scared to see her mother
drive…

Walt Disney animated movie “The Rescuers”
based on Margery Sharp books on Miss Bianca,
the ambassadorial mouse

Walt Disney animated movie “101 Dalmations”

She Would Relieve Me

Tibetan monks control body temperature
facing freezing weather wearing loincloths
I must learn their technique to preset body
temperature, then I could walk on flaming
coals without burning my feet

The hypnotised do not burn when holding
their hands in a flame, developing a welt
when told a flame was burning them though
there was none, in multiple personality syn-
drome, the body exhibits

Different physical symptoms depending on
the personality inhabiting at any moment in
time, I wonder whether I also have a heat-
resistant personality type and when she
would come to relieve heat-sensitive me

Hellish Fires Of Recrimination

Went into another office, pain abated
with lovely cool air, breathing without
flames engulfing my head, returned to
my post before courage to forge on desert
me, ready to die silently in my chair

Alet said should the office building start
burning, she and I would not leave, we
would be roasted in our chairs, in dutiful
stupidity, black charcoaled fingers held
over blackened computer keys

Both fallen on duty, working to earn a
pension, dying in action, before time to go
home we shall not leave the building, as
others flee, as chaos spreads and figures
run to and fro, Alet and I would remain

Calmly suffocating behind our desks, dying
in front of smoking computer screens, bravely
facing the flames, getting ready to face the
hellish fires of recrimination in death…

Willing To Be Liquidated

Sitting in the heat of 35 degrees C
I cannot concentrate, took a Myprodyl,
too two, took a Sinuclear capsule, took
another one, took Panado, took Migril

The heat makes my conscience flow away,
I am listening to the ringing of a million ci-
cada’s singing in my ears, too uncomfortable
to process officially blessed

Tightly held and caressed, officially listed
documents, surviving life is bad, I prefer
enjoying it but it is impossible, without a
window, the air-con set too hot

Even pouring water over my head brings short-
lived release before fever flares up again, if
pain-killers cannot succeed to delete the pain
I am willing to be liquidated

My arms aflame, my skin burning, we are soldiers
in the trenches, I will not quit my post although
this is hell on earth, I will join my colleagues
in this hell-hole

Until time to go home, I might die a mental death
sending forth poisonous ideas, succumbing to
toxic thoughts, but here I must stay
till the day I die…

Goodbye My Little Go-Kart

I am turning into a mawkish person, childishly
sentimental – or have I always been like this -
I do not like change, my little car is too small
we have to say goodbye to the go-kart I love
so much, heartbroken over my nifty, zippy car
too impractical, Nici wants to take her big
alarm clock and teddy bears on holiday

I want to bring back shells from the side, hubby
wants to pack indigenous plants, there goes my little
dinky toy car and I am sad, maybe a few tears shed
in private will release the pressure in my heavy heart
Joseph cried resounding sobs in Pharaoh's palace, I shall
follow his example, Biblical history inspires me
if not always for the right reasons

Goodbye to my little go-cart, your mawkish owner will
miss you, fare thee well, I loved you so much, always
felt adventurous racing about while singing at the top
of my voice - Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam and
Unto Thee Oh Lord

- Now an ice-cold white predator with a cavernous boot
is waiting in the garage to swallow my self-confidence
when I cannot see over the dashboard to drive...

Wordsmith [wsmith@wordsmith.org]
Mawkish - adjective: Excessively sentimental,
especially in a childish manner

Sacred Feeling Of Dutiful Stupidity

Blessed all my documents with required
indication they exist, entered them into a
list without deleting calculating codes
indicating page and word average on
a daily basis

It is an abomination when a paper is left
without official identification, date of arrival,
date entrusted to my loving care, date sent
to production line for standardization, date
returned to client, date saved by e-filing

Data entry into calculating lists is my
favourite activity, the 99% black matter of
the universe consists of invisible background
administration, the big bang leftover radiation
germinating new procedures

In every unfolding moment of life-sustaining
time I joyously treasure each document, a
sacred feeling of dutiful stupidity permeating
everything, I have no existential fear while safely
ensconced in a web of official lists determining

every moment of my being, each step I take
as a calculation automatically carried out by
artificial intelligence of Excel documents
humans will never feel abandoned again
in a lonely malevolent universe

With artificial intelligence plotting their life
course for them!

On A Bright White Beach

To my great chagrin I have to admit
the only person who made use of
Tiaan’s hospital bed was I, the sorely
tried mother, when hubby found my
black humour and attempts to look at
the bright side less than savoury

I gave up and stretched out for a needed
rest in that emergency room where people
with short-cropped hair walked up and down
while all the rest stood about, looking forlorn
and staring into the distance - I am sure I
did the looking forlorn extremely well

In the X-ray department I paged through two
magazines intended to alleviate the boredom
of a rich, bored, pampered, idiotic woman
with so much time on her hands that she
crochets covers for her water tumblers
embroiders her handbag

Pasting beads and gift paper on tissue boxes
and wastepaper baskets, makes idiotic dishes
for superficial friends who arrive en masse
and hang around on a windowed terrace
looking out on a bright white beach, men
wearing blinding white suits

All hanging around sipping blue concoctions
that look extremely unpleasant and suspicious!

Theatre Of The Absurd

No need to visit a concert hall
to experience theatre of the
absurd; went with Tiaan and
broken collarbone to hospital
emergency

They monitored vital signs to
ascertain he was still alive
we went into a small ward
waited for a nurse to put his
arm in a sling

Another hour - doctor arrives
sends us to X-rays, an hour
the process is done, an hour
and doctor sends him home
with pain medication

Another wait for a check-up
appointment, in the end, I
the sorely tried patient’s
mother, collapses upon his
hospital bed…

Spy Girl Of Highest Principle

Life is really getting better and better
as seen in the entertainment industry
James Bond has been replaced by a new
nerdy hero who stands for integrity in
everything, big-time cons hang on to
family values

The main spy is a girl of highest principle
we delight in watching this series, replacing
the old blasé and immoral James Bond who
believed the end justifies the means, the latest
pantheon of hero’s believe the means becomes
the end, therefore

They always act with deference to love and loyalty,
popular culture is a clear indication of what people
do to create a better world, leaving intellectuals and
academics behind, entertainment follows where the
people lead, now I dream of being a character in the
new series

Filled with new ideals!

Practicing Being A Queen

Reading the greatest love story ever
elevates my mind and gives me such
high ideals, I float about the house
smiling lovingly at the kids, insist on
giving Tiaan the odd hug, hugging Nici
constantly, imagining I am as good and
kind as the heroine

Since we imitate those we read about
especially those we admire, it is just as
well to choose great examples to emulate
you can be so glad you are far away, you
would have received your share of godly
hugs, poor Martin ducks and dives all the
time to stay clear of my tentacles

He claims he is busy and in a professional
mood - while I am practicing being a queen!

Miraculous To Be Here

We are a production line, difficult for me
to learn how to become a brick in the wall
learn to live 1984 without original thought
no innovation, following procedures, trans-
lation as automatic, for every term there
is a context-based rule

Translation principles are inviolate, cold
menacing words without rhythm, rhyme
or melody rendered in a prescribed way
though painful working in line, I am staying
the course because I love my colleagues
as friends, try to fathom their pain

Official group effort produces standardised
translations, if government officials cannot
accept that, they cannot stay in production
Simone Weil stuck with her factory job, I am
trying the same though my over-active mind
causes me pain

The friends and life experience I have gained
give meaning to life, it is worth all sacrifice to
learn how to socialise, learn loyalty and trust
to some it comes naturally, it cost me a lot
of sweat and blood, it is miraculous to be
privileged enough to be here…


George Orwell: “1984”

http://www.rivertext.com/weil2.html

Simone Weil was born in Paris in 1909
into an affluent close-knit family. She quit
teaching to work and live for a year at the
lowest level of the French factory system –
as an unskilled woman worker. She did
piece-rate factory work and because she had
poor manual dexterity and an over-active
mind she could not work efficiently enough
to pay rent and buy sufficient food.