Sunday, February 28, 2010

Promise Eternal Duration

*
That’s what poetry is to me: a way
to dream - to calm fears – to feel -
to express emotions, read a series
of poems about love

As a spiritual experience - my fears
are stilled, my heart is filled with a
joy transcending temporal reality
I offer my joy to you

I love special people spiritually, can-
not bear to see my loved ones hurt
or crying, my kids are special to me
sent to teach me new things

Read the Sunday newspaper, all the
arguments, fights and jealousy, a
wasp stung me, the good, honest
physical pain was not so severe

As the effect of the murders and
dishonesty exposed - although
all people have good intentions
they clash when together

I stay in my refuge under the green
plants in my garden, people are
lovely individually, but in groups
they turn into a pack of wolves

I don’t want to join them in fighting
each other, saying things about one
another, the speaker means no evil
but his words are misquoted

His intentions misjudged, to calm my
spirit, I read poetry, study the virtues
of wisdom that make life worthwhile
infuse love with trust

A promise of eternal duration lifting
my soul to the higher dimensions
where infinity spirals eternally…
*

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Fallen In Love

*

I’ve fallen in love with the character
called Stolly in my book, a boy of
about twelve, I think, he is forced
to attend practical workshop while
he actually plays the violin, cannot
tie his shoe-laces

Says things like ‘rightie-tightie, leftie-
loosie’ to remember in which direction
to turn a screw, he writes stories, keeps
a dairy - why should anyone try to make
Stolly into a handyman with his dad an
attorney, his mother a fashion diva

Yet he has to attend school in the bizarre
fashion in which schools are run – I think
I love him for his shortcomings, I felt the
same in domestic science - I was even
worse than he is, broke sewing needle
lost my cotton reel, making a mess of

Every dish we prepared, yet Stolly and I
were forced to do things we could not
master so we could forget about the
things we were actually good at, to
become mediocre for all time, that
is what school is about

To make everybody average at
everything, carefully stamp out
individuality!


“Up on Cloud Nine” by Anne Fine
Corgi ed. 2003, quotes taken from
pages 61 and 62
*

Cupboardfuls Of Spirits (Rev)

*

Stolly* brought an Ouija board to con-
jure whole cupboardfuls of spirit
beings: Abyssinian horseman
Tarafou, Black Fairy of the
Glen, Dad* flirted with the
wife of Count Vazquerie
killed by her husband

The God of Tempest, an Ocean
Spirit, the God of the West Wind
claiming enough power to open
the entrails of the earth, a god
calling himself the Ocean of the
Deep, a churchwarden in spirit-
land ringing chapel bells

Author Anne Fine’s description of
spirit games in a children’s book
makes for a lot of fun, proving
playing with these concepts
gives delightful scope for
using the imagination...


*Stolly is the main character, a young
boy with a vivid imagination
*Dad is the father of Stolly’s friend Ian
where Stolly is practically part of the family

“Up on Cloud Nine” by Anne Fine
Corgi ed. 2003; quotes taken
from pages 31 to 33
*

Illusions I love You! (Rev)

*

“It’s the greatest excitement to shiver and
dream in scared delight, when free rein is
given to imagination fun is an inexhaustible
source of progress and innovation!”

Timestream – spirit entities – first electronic
system for two-way communication, Konstantin
Raudive speaks through a clock-radio, a tinny
voice calls himself Protective Technician

We will receive strange voices on tape
recorders, TV, radio and fax machines
printouts from spirit communicators called enhanced instrumental transcommunication,

These are voices from ethereal entities who never lived, from astral bodies of earth-like
substance, voices from dark quantum
realms - suffering fear and confusion

Can you complain cynical boredom with all
these exciting games going on, join the fight
between sceptics and spiritualists; I don’t
know anything, I just scream at scary things

‘Illusion, I love you!’ - It works every time, they
go away, when free rein is given to imagination fun is an inexhaustible source of progress and innovation!”


“Spirit Communication” A comprehensive guide
to the extraordinary world of mediums, psychics
and the afterlife – Roy Stemman, Piatkus, 2005
Quotes taken from pages 114 to 117
*

Friday, February 26, 2010

Delighted In Great Beyond

*
Developing spirit communication through
Spiricom - with thirteen tone generators
relaying the thirteen years dead voice of
a scientist replying to questions, two men
finding electronic proof soul and personality,
mind and memory, survive death

A great start for eventual perfection of
etheric-electromagnetic communication
in telephonic conversation with dead
people alive in higher consciousness
endless fun of spirit research, an op-
portunity missed by sceptics

To read and dream about the living
dead, delighted awareness in
the Great Beyond!


“Spirit Communication” A comprehensive guide
to the extraordinary world of mediums, psychics
and the afterlife – Roy Stemman, Piatkus, 2005
Quotes taken from pages 113 and 114
*

How Great Is Life

*


Thank heaven, the stranger with the
anguished mind and sad personality
who looked at me from the mirror in
my borrowed body yesterday is gone

Andre Rieu’s orchestra playing Olé Guapa,
swaying to the music, arms outstretched like
a ship’s bowhead stepping high giraffe style,
back to my naughty Bond girl usual self

Laughing at me when I look up, a joy to
be me who is happy in this body, the
chemical allergy affecting my nervous
system with a self-conscious fear has left

It made me someone who cannot speak or
think for herself, cannot laugh and enjoy life,
briefly appeared to teach me how great is life
few people can compare how it feels to be

Two completely different beings, one glad,
one sad, I am privileged to learn the art
of living joyously in this unique way!
*

He Picks Me Up (Rev.)

*
Such a privilege to have
older brothers; one to be
mischievous, one to teach
drying off of tears, one to
lend a hand to, one to scold,
one to go to for sympathy

It is like a teacher standing
next to me who appreciates
when my legs are too short
to reach, affectionately picks
me up and lends a hand
without a second thought

Shows me how big the
whole World is, laughing
at attempts to cover up
embarrassment, dislikes
my enemies as his own,
allows me to fight his

An older brother is the
World in a younger sibling’s
eyes, the blessing of his
approbation a paradise,
his presence the protection
and security I need until I

am strong enough to tackle
problems of my own!
*

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Totally Confused

*
And there I was, French class, totally confused
I thought it was because we discussed political
subjects, then I discovered I could not count at
all, not understand what was said, all I replied
was ‘I’m not interested in rewriting history’

Remembered my dad - growing up in the poorest
part of town - disadvantaged - black and white
looked at faces around me, feeling alone, lost
the positive feeling of colleagues at work, felt
boxed in, confessed mess in class at home

Hubby confessed curry added to dish last night
derailed my brain, at least now I know why I
completely lost the plot, the story of my life
sometimes I can and sometimes I can’t
depends on what food contained

Tomorrow I’ll try again to meet the norm, do
my job, understand – today is lost
tomorrow always is
a new day…
*

Ajoute L’hymne

*
Je vais en Algérie – voyelle et
en Mauritanie – féminine mais
je vais au Burundi et Malawi –
masculine

Je vais à Djibouti, Sao Tomé et
Principe parce que ce sont des
îles - c’est ça, la leçon pour
aujourd’hui

Le sommet de Copenhague, le
devenir de notre planète, qu’est-
ce que dites les scientifiques qui
expliquent

La théorie du réchauffement climatique
c’est très compliqué, famine, maladies
tsunami, la sécheresse comme au Mali
et Ethiopie

Nous avons besoin d’énergie éolienne
énergie du vent qui fait du bruit… mais
que la langue chante, ajoute l’hymne
de Tryo aussi…
*

La Mélancolie

*
I’m afraid the mixture I create
is not working at all, reading a
message from the Troll Interpol
about a criminal dissimulating
heroin on his person

And a letter from the comrades
in Pofadder complaining about
Khai-Ma Municipality - while
listening to L’histoire San Fin
on my earphones

A child saving Fantasia - while
checking PoemHunter surrep-
titiously for golden-hued visions
on this overcast day - while
dealing with the effects

Of yesterday’s meal - while June
is describing a Spanish class con-
sisting of drawing pictures, drawing
pictures in Spanish! – I wish
I could do it

The mélange is confusing, to say
the least, but it is the only way to
stay ahead of la mélancolie…
*

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Like Living A Dream

*
Happily ensconced in a feeling of safety
enjoying a sense of well-being, a home-
made meal, tried the pose Nici holds for
a minute - a second for me is more than
enough

Bought another crystal heart, two more
fake snowflakes, love the way they shine
amongst my imitation flowers, adorning
my screen at the open-plan office, today
I added

Pieces of glass inherited from Nici revamping
her room, had to hide the big fairy nobody
wants when Nici threw her out, all the time
ignoring the thought of doing revision for
French

Even brought two documents home, a book
about a ballerina, yet lack the motivation to
start on anything, I feel like living a dream;
on Nici’s instruction hugged the overgrown
teddy bear

Living in her room, dreaming of wearing
something tomorrow that resembles the
fairy wings affixed to my bed, Nici
warned me not to wear the wings
also

As if I would!...would I?
*

Tu t'en va

*
Walked straight into a red robot, head
in the clouds, Margaret Alice walking
about, a smile in her heart, the drivers
of cars all calm, shaking their heads
resigned acceptance

The taxi driver's henchmen running up
Are you mad? they ask, a smile in the
eyes, I burst out laughing, forgot my
library card and now this, listening to
birdsong on my Walkman

Earphones pressed deep into my ears
tied to my sunglasses, clearly it is dan-
gerous, next time I'll march again to En
Chantant instead of waltzing to
Tu t'en va...
*

Celestial Beings

*
Pleasure is but temporary escape
from the mind, the domain of the
young and the completely insane
cry when pleasure commences
and rejoice at the end

I seek joy in eternity, immutable
infinity, the physical only intrigues
as symbolic manifestation of invi-
sible intelligent energy creating
living images momentarily

The pleasure of creating visions and
dreams, transcending reality in the
fun of mind-mastery, using bodily
senses in amazing new ways,
universes splitting infinitely

A quantum physical delight in the con-
stant change of eternally dancing sub-
atomic particles keeping innumerable
parallel universes spinning
simultaneously

Then rousing pleasures of love become
a symbol of such creative invention and
love as physical sensation is elevated to
the realm of the sublime in the sphere of
the divine to become the dominon

Of celestial beings…
*

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

My Fake Snowflake

*
Hung my fake snowflake on my screen
my computer resembles the entrance
to an exotic Persian market I might
dive into head first disappear in a
supernatural realm

Find the magic carpet and fly off - But
my mind does it every time I surf the
Internet - I sigh - I would like to take
off in my real body, astral travel
is fine

I’m sure I saw other-world dimensions last
night visiting Robert Munroe’s out-of-body
realms yet I always return to the same
sensory reality, changes of scene
and time

Won’t help much - I dream of new civilizations
new beginnings for life where true freedom is
guaranteed from birth, Seth mentioned the
experiment which has not been tried in
this universe
*

Idées Noirs (Rev.)

*
Angry and distressed I joined the
French Foreign Legion, fell into step,
marched into the desert to the tune
of ‘En Chantant’ under a killer sun
in a bright blue sky

The World rang to rhythm-locked
feet obliterating thought and feeling,
emptying minds; lips stiff in grim
determination, heads bent swaying
to the disciplined beat

All emotion drained, sweat pouring
down faces, the fêted battalion of
Legionnaires defeating the desert,
turning up the volume with each
stamped out repetition of song

en chantant - en poursuivant
nos idées noirs…
*

Monday, February 22, 2010

Tell Me How To Fly

*
My guru insists successful changes requires a sweet
journey in happy anticipation, I meet wonderful people
where I am living on condition that I am not myself, my
dream is to meet others like me who see the world dif-
ferently in order to share our visions

For now I remain an underground dreamer accepting
my constant failures and inadequacies, a prerequisite
for spiritual growth, learning in humble subservience,
doing a job that requires administrative qualities I do
not possess, living a half-life

Doing inferior work, without opportunity for any progress
my guru says once I learn to be content to be classified
as inferior without distress, the chance to employ my
talents will come, I am learning to be resigned, to be
a snail, the dunce in the office

A silly clown, a frolicking harlequin, if I try my best and
accept rejection and scorn, I will have learnt a lesson
although the quantum universe is so big and life so
mysterious, we are living suffocating bureaucratic
lives - I cry with Dr Jokweni who said

Sadness is the staple of life, I must feel the pain of my
fellow concentration camp inmates to understand what
a new world should entail, to appreciate the alternative
visions of ‘Conversations With God’ by Neale Donald
Walsh

I wish my guru could tell me
how to fly…
*

Forgave Myself & Everyone Else

*
I managed a major faux pas today
blood-sugar stabilizing peanuts -
eating too much, suddenly swelling
in my head causing debilitating pain:
pain in my ears, pain in my ears, PAIN
PAIN, stopped working, clung to my chair
looked at pictures, looked at nothingness

Painkillers unable to stop the pain in my ears
I lost everything, every hope of completing my
document, every dream of writing something
uplifting or noble or both, all I knew was the pain,
the bitter taste of failure again, once more I could
not complete a translation, could not even recall
the sound or the feel of the dream

The only thing I retained, the assurance I found:
‘I’ll never leave you nor forsake you’ - I could not
pin it to anyone, so I assigned it to the Lord of
the New Testament who declared it is all
about love and forgiveness, I forgave
myself and everyone else…
*

When I am Bored

*
Left-brain visual activity only, reading claims
of dissatisfied citizens, ability to concentrate
decreasing, time grinds to a halt, I am bored

A prisoner of sensory reality, mind stuck in-
between goal-points while brain switches off
discovering a need for a focal meditation point

Something stimulating, seeking symbolism in
physical existence, faced with the expression
of perpetual discontent in official documents

I am seeking joyous new meaning to assign
significance to this isolation, a heroine locked
up in the Dungeon Dimensions without time

I need to conjure something to stir her into
action, confronting problems, fighting dragons
will help, my pet peeve is my inability

To remain sane when I am bored…
*

Wonder Of Good Intentions

*
Love being at work this morning
June is so marvelous to talk to
wearing a lovely crocodile T-shirt

Hanlie so calm and charming
Hermien so warm, understanding
Karen is rested, holding the reins

The workplace is loaded with goodness
Dr Jokweni smiling broadly, the work
atmophere electric with work ethic

Although I forgot my translation at home
doing it helped me to win confidence, my
biggest problem is fear that I cannot cope

Once I feel the wonder of good intentions
and teamwork around me, fear is replaced
with happy expectation and self-confidence

Other people also cherish ideals in their hearts
while facing the daily grind, we share the same
reality, renew it with visions and dreams

The joy is wonderful, even when my brain col-
lapses, when intellect fails, love and friendship
remains, the crocodile in me starts to accept

People can be trusted even when I am ill, there
is no shame in being human, I stopper my ears
when pastors damn us to hell for being conceived

And born in sin, that is their problem, I believe we
are good, no wonder you cautioned me against
reading the Bible because I fear the contents

But today I know it is written by people who do not
know condemnation destroys…
*

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Anaconda Menace And Dread (Rev.)

*
Tiaan turns off sound during the movie
Anaconda to show how it creates
atmosphere, feelings of menace and
dread appear when silence ascends

I stop him as frustration increases fear
causing a knot in my stomach; movies
don’t affect them kids claim, I should be
ashamed for getting emotionally involved

Characters fight, anacondas attack and
tension mounts into a headache – I have
to stop looking to regain well-being, too
vivid an imagination

Reactions to fantasies derail me, my mind
is a great companion but dangerous when
manipulated, I have to focus on uplifting
things that help me survive headaches

Anaconda destroyed the spell woven by
powerful words which created a haven of
beauty and love in my mind, my feelings of
safety were lost

How many words do I need for feel-good
thoughts which enable me to do my duty,
it’s the last time I share scary movies
Tiaan can’t understand, laughs at his mom…
*

Saturday, February 20, 2010

A Crystal Heart

*
Helpless in the spell
you’re weaving - it is
wonderful, never knew
surrender would be so
sweet

Playing with my figurines
kids sabotaged me, can’t
work on my laptop, bought
snowflakes today, the only
way

I’ll get to see them, hung
them in my menagerie
added crystal earrings
for effect, playing this
is Tiffany

Receiving snowflakes
from her own
Wintersmith


[And a small brown wooden doll with
plaits to add to my screen at work, a
crystal heart to blend in with the rest

I got the advantage, because you
guys watched rugby and cricket, I
did not waste time on my own

shows – this is as it should be -
I suppose]


[Loved the sun today, heat invading
the skin on my legs, the sun such a
charming suitor, we fought to keep
contact, clouds interfering, shim-
mering tree-tops, although a
chill wind announced the
coming of autumn this
morning, fear
clutching my
heart…]


[After translating a Presidential
letter, I helped Nici with her project
today, indicating her choice of
career and personality; I fixed
the spelling and added things
about herself - she is such a
sweet darling, she laughed
at all my attempts to be
funny, I love her to bits!]


[Tiaan played a water polo game
today, I collected him at school
looking glum, we lost again, he
said, then tuned in to his music
and we both laughed at the
singer’s choice of words, I
am sure Tiaan will be all-
right, though the water
polo thing is a fright…]
*

Friday, February 19, 2010

Love Twinkles All Around

*
[REVISED]

My Bibliotherapy guide reminds me to look
away from reality unless I merely want to
replicate it, to dream up alternatives where
I hanker for new lifestyles and inventions,
to envision them into being

The book says enjoy what we have, the life
we live; tonight a beautiful sunset, today the
office with unique colleagues, June a rare
treat with sense of humour no-one can best,
Hanlie an angel, Hermien, organizing fiend

Loving our World is a guarantee we shall love
changes, if we travel an assurance we’ll meet
wonderful people; translating taught me to use
words, to sit at the feet of a master and learn
to create music with rhythms and sounds

Working with loyal people is a privilege where
learning is the routine, where practicing writing
skills and studying languages is required, my
favourite pastimes, and being in a nuclear family
with lovely kids growing to independence

When happy where we are we can be happy
anywhere; we learnt to focus on beauty and
love that exists. I’ve amazing correspondents
who adore poetry, delight in reading books and
sharing their thoughts

I do not make friends easily but my life is filled
with people who help me overcome limitations;
tonight my fears are stilled, the black hole in my
mind cannot swallow this love and friendship.
Even when the world disappears, love still
twinkles all around!


*
[ORIGINAL]
I keep my own Bibliotherapy book at my side,
brightly illustrated, reminding us to look away
from reality unless we want to recreate it faith-
fully, to dream up alternatives if we desire new
lifestyles and inventions because all must be
envisioned before it comes into being

The book reminds us to enjoy what we have,
the life we live, tonight brought a very beauty-
ful sunset, earlier today the office with the most
original colleagues, June is a rare treat with a
sense of humour no-one can beat, Hanlie
an angel, Hermien an organizing fiend

Loving our little world is our guarantee we shall
love changes also, if we travel one day it is our
assurance that we shall meet wonderful people;
translation work taught me how to use words, to
sit at the feet of a word master and learn how to
create music with rhythm and sound

It is a privilege to work with people who are loyal,
strong, kind, considerate; in a job where learning
is part of the daily routine, where practicing writing
skills and studying languages are required - all my
favourite pastimes - to have a nuclear family with
lovely kids growing to independence

When we are happy where we are now, we can be
happy everywhere we go because we learnt how to
focus on the beauty and love that exist everywhere,
I have found amazing correspondents who adore
poetry, delight in reading books and sharing
their thoughts with everybody

Though I do not make friends easily, my life is filled
with creative people who help each other - and me -
overcome all limitations, my fears are stilled tonight,
the black hole in my mind cannot swallow the love
and companionship I have found, when the world
disappears, love still twinkles all around me!
*

Pinch-Me-Not

*
Finally reached the end of Julie Johnston
Pinch-Me-Not, time to get rid of the feeling
of fear the story engendered, losing Hud,
awful that a beloved person died, for the
first time ever Sara cried, no longer
queen of cool, melting inside
*

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Poles North And South

*
French class – aah, I was invisible!
I wore my goblin top in earthy colours,
hair pinned up on my head, discussed,
wait for it – global warming

My favourite hated subject, I just HAD to
tell them I hoped the world would be des-
troyed, life should start again in a better
universe, the blank looks I received

Convinced me nobody shared my sentiments,
our lecturer was a treat, a new attendee spoke
passionately about nuclear power, poles North
and South and penguins

I mentioned floating isles as new habitats, all
were highly suspicious regarding this, I recom-
mended they Google it, the guy representing
the one-eyed Troll Interpol said

Global warming caused cataclysms which in-
creased crime as a surcease in home and in-
come led to people hungry for food and warmth,
adding something about his office

In Lyons where he had no breakfast at all; I was
too jealous to take in more, I have never been to
France, bien entendu, my chances are zero and
falling still, I have to provide

For two little tykes who are still going to school
with no idea what they want to do, Nici should
love someone while Tiaan should write essays
but who will pay them a salary…
*

Désespoir Dans Le Coeur

*
Je regarde mes notes pour la classe
de conversation avec le désespoir
dans le coeur, les questions banales
comme qu’est-ce que c’est que vos
passe-temps, je voulais dire de haïr
le monde, ce n’est pas vrai, mais je
hais ces types des questions

Puis la Francophonie dans l’Afrique
je n’aime pas la politique, le français
langue officielle dans 32 Etats mem-
bres de l’OIF – je me souviens de
terribles événements, moi comme
officier de communication pendant
une conférence au Cap Town

Chaque fois j’ai ouvert ma bouche
une dame de la France me corrige,
non, il faut dire LE français, pas LA,
il faut dire ‘Comment allez-vous’ pour
un ministre, pas ‘comment ça va’,
j’avais une crise de nerves et je
me suis éloignée

Je n’avais pas le droit d’aider les ministres
des pays Africains francophone, mais il n’y
avait personne d’autre parce qu’on ne pouvait
pas payer ce qu’il faut, même aujourd’hui je
me tais quand il y a des gens qui parlent
couramment français, je n’aime pas qu’on
me corrige après chaque mot

Quand les étrangères parlent Afrikaans,
ma langue maternelle, je n’interromps pas
tous les temps, je suis conscient de leur
gentillesse en apprennent une langue étrange,
bien, je suis prêt d’accepter ma juste punition
pour mon effronterie de vouloir apprendre
une autre langue…

********************************************
J’ai une liste à étudier: C’est la Tunisie et
le Maroc, la Mauritanie et le Mali, la Tanzanie,
et le Cameroun, la Namibie et le Sénégal, la
Somalie et le Kenya, la Côte d’Ivoire et le Togo,
la Libye et le Liberia, la Guinée et le Congo,
le Sahara et la République Démocratique
du Congo, il y’a 200 millions de franco-
phones dans le monde, le plus grand
nombre en Afrique bien entendu…
*

Trust Through The Tears

*
I am scared, scared of the feeling
of fear that lives in my heart, scared
of my own lack of interest in the text
on my screen, scared of the black
hole that lurks in my mind ready to
swallow my world

I make that world as big as I can, from
galaxy to supercluster to universe to
multiverse, add every lovely idea pro-
claimed by quantum physicists, add
all the insights of spiritualists, erecting
bulwarks against le néant

Yet in spite of the fifteen billion light
years size of the universe, it is still
small enough to vanish, engulfed by
inky blackness, I am left with nothing
even after amassing treasures of phi-
losophy and wisdom

There is never enough to keep me afloat
when I fall prey to doubt, desperately I
repeat the words of my spiritual guru
‘love is enough’ – I am going to trust
through the tears, that when I choose
love, love is enough

It is all that is left…
*

Own Secret World

*
Do other people keep quiet
about their feelings because
they do not have any or are
satisfied and content or know
how to keep their own secrets
remain in their own confidence?

It is so much easier to keep quiet
and not lay your soul bare, after
whispering your feelings, you hear
derision in the wind, disembodied
voices laughing at all you pretend

You feel naked, vulnerable, nowhere
to hide, every lip seems to utter a snide
comment, alone, scared, you decide
never to confess anything again, to
bottle up like everyone else

Thankful for the anonymity of the Internet
after confessing guilt and sins of omission
you subside and avert your eyes not to see
the surprise on faces of people unknown
thankful to be on your own

Locked in your own secret world, determined
not to look at things that evoke
an emotional response…
*

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Sandhi Sanctum Sanctorum

*
There is no simulacrum between me
and the sedulous translators around
me who find my sedition unsavoury
sacriligeous against their sacerdotal
devotion to duty

Their sacramentalist regard for the
sacredness of sacred writings called
official documents reduces me to sack-
cloth and ashes, I must keep my ideas
sapwood and do sanbenito

To satisfy a sanctimonious insistence
on the sanctitude of correct procedure
deep down they know I am really a
saltimbanco of a translator-administator
they have no need

For the salubrious poetry I avidly consume,
unaware of the salutary effects of sandhi in
sanctum sanctorum

I am saved by my sanguine attitude which
camouflages my sangfroid faced with sanserifs
that drive me mad, while I secretly search for
sapid Sapphic delights, dreaming of a sarabande
to saturate my soul with

Saurian satyr scansion to sconce the scowl off my
face and scorify my soul while I hide behind my
scutum semasiology, sending you a semaphore
seriatim as I am your septuagenarian, what
serendipity

I met you in a serendipitous way shambling
about in PoemHunter’s corridors, because I
used you as a sallyport , outlet and fort, you
suspect me of sending you a salmagundi just
for fun

I am waiting for a sally
in counterpoint!
*

Beautiful Pink Kimono

*
Beneath my jet-black pullover
I wear a pink kimono beautifully
revealed as I drift daintily down
street – the watery way I mean

An exotic butterfly, a lady taking
small Japanese steps while my
favourite soprano sings Les Oiseaux
Dans La Charmille in my ears

Head demurely bent sans sunglasses
they’d have spoiled the effect, my eyes
on a sheer pink orchid petal kimono
rustling enticingly

A sun-screen between me and real
world traffic, I see only pink and feel
myself floating in a Japanese scene
of unequalled beauty…
*

TV Addicted Freak

*
An internet surfing, TV addicted
total freak recording his musings
and deeming them so important
he sends them to Presidents

Spinning tales about pig farms and
his grandmother eating ham, crops
of maize replaced by sorghum, dying
tavern-keepers and global warming

Coolly informing the French President
now is their chance for a humanitarian
deed: take in climate refugees, teach
them French and practice getting rid

Of Xenophobia, indeed! I am sure the
President has been waiting to hear
from this self-important author
his whole life long!
*

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Dawn Silver Cord

*
I am the cockroach from ‘Men In Black’
wearing an obscene overcoat of a farmer’s
body that it does not fit at all well

It is how I feel today, my body does not
belong – I cannot get comfortable in it
the whole structure somehow moved

maybe the astral part left the physical
travelled to other dimensions overnight
but its dawn silver cord return was skewed

Now my whole frame is disimbued
and I no longer fit within my skin
*

Mothering-Smothering Type

*
The crocodile mom and the crocodile kids
have been found out again, Scorpio realized
the kids have no ideals, he had to attack –
our Astrogenetic Aquarian and Sagittarian
kids are spoiled brats

I am an Astrogenetic Cancerian, a
mothering-smothering type, Scorpio is
watching us as he did when the crocodile
kids were in primary school, they could not
read, Nici declared

‘My mother said I need not do school work at
all’ - I was scared to death, my little girl could
not progress – today she reads and writes her
own work, my fears are calmed; Tiaan was said
to be clumsy, could not catch a ball

Today he plays sports well enough - though he
lacks interest, likes writing stories and spelling
contests; Nici loves people and friends, reads
prescribed texts, BUT Scorpio insists - the
kids must choose a profession

As soon as can be, declaiming on those suffering
in informal settlements; I know what he means, but
I only had kids once I could provide for them, I can’t
stand in for others procreating without counting costs
- I wanted kids to teach them

We are born to love each other, plants, animals, the
world and everything in it; because I did not know
why I was born when I was small...
*

Eight Hours Facing Empty Words

*
I am glad I did not know as a child life was
supposed to be fun, we are supposed to
feel good and taste success, I would not
have been able to face bleakness if
I thought life should be enjoyed

Today I am still doing what I did when I
was very young, sit quietly in one place
because the allergy makes it difficult to
do other things, with a job where sitting
immobile is a prerequisite

Talking to no-one, not serving clients, no
discussing ideas or philosophies, nobody
listening, no-one talking about the subjects
I love, correspondents keep me alive, I
write my thoughts down

Wishing for time to pass so I can do something
interesting before I die, meet people who love
poetry, process the world in the same way,
understand how feelings work, how
emotions should be classified

I am not resigned today, maybe if I cry, I will
be able to face the meaningless blob that we
call today, eight hours facing empty words,
then we go home, life is filled with family
and stimulating books

One day we might go off and see the world
if I die before then, I shall see the universe
understand everything that puzzled me here
discover more mysteries, happiness is
waiting on the other side!
*

Russian Roulette with Chemicals

*
Venison pie last night, head inflamed
slow suffocation, I’ll sign admission
of guilt, it should not have been the
main dish of the meal - on top of
Sunday’s chocolate mousse and
ice-cream liqueur, three-cheese
jalapenos sauce

My intolerant system in revolt, we are
going out for a work lunch, all revolves
around food, playing Russian roulette
with chemicals and seasoning; lost all
decision-making capacity, no motivation
to carry on, only my pride keeps me
upright - I delight in

Being in the trenches, fighting incoming
mountains of work with my colleagues
but my contribution is inferior in quality
I’m ruled by my fluctuating emotions
which succumb to every meal, losing
time today, no concentration for any
repetitive job

Too ill to seek consolation in epiphany
no discovery or mystery can stop me
from falling into serious indigestion
and allergy, only the words in my
head are left, the chem that
bubbles in an attempt
at expression

Of my strange malady…
*

Monday, February 15, 2010

Dance Troupe On Roof

*
Terry Pratchett has Carpet people, Mary
Norton has the Borrowers in the wainscot
and Margaret Alice has a Dance Troupe on
the roof practising their running steps and
pas-de-deux in the early morning, they must
be called the Rat Cast, sounding like a whole
herd of reindeer at times, I fearfully watch the
ceiling to see them come tumbling down

But now it is time for the cheerleading team in
my head to take the lead to spur me on to doing
my production sheet, I must fight the rising panic
and become ruthless in driving myself to focus on
an endless list of one page Interpol messages and
handwritten sheets to the President, every word must
be accounted for, my only comfort is that we are not yet
counting letters, we used to count pages

What a mercy that ‘words received’ is currently the limit
heaven knows for how long, I must stop contemplating
the evils of listmaking and start immediately, everybody
recommends to add to the list on a daily basis, to inhale
the poison of administration frequently so as to be com-
pleted when it must be handed in, I cannot live in the
noxious fumes of bureaucracy ALL the time, life is
toxic enough just doing routine jobs

Now the psychosomatic stomach ache is reserved for
production sheet day, should I update all the time I
would die of psychosomatic pain!


******* ******* ******* ******* *******

Early morning embittered meditation to enable
me to make the list, I have been psyching up the
cheerleading team since last night, all I got for
my pains is stomach ache and tension headache
to boot

The joys of bureaucracy is, as always, indescribable
- after stealing time to write down my bitter thoughts
I am off to the horizon chasing the illusive chimera
and mirage of the perfect list and my life is dross
today…

*

Lips Indicate Temperament

*
I go along to the general store, you
look at tools and ovens and I go off
to study the toys, dolls, puzzles with
lovely designs, beautiful paper and
colouring pens, hunting for handy
utensils does not come naturally

Saw a lovely paper-doll, Annie, just
the right eyes and facial expression,
though too expensive I might still
succumb to temptation, explained
to Edana and Barbara how revea-
ling expression of demeanour is

How the way lips are painted indicates
temperament, they defended the withdrawn,
far-away look of an artist playing a fiddle,
I preferred the mermaid next to the light-
house doing nothing because she looks
so loving and compassionate

I spend hours looking at expressions on paper
faces or painted on dolls and figurines, knowing
what a face says is so important, complemented
by clothing or pose, I found the plastic faces of
actors and pop stars do not work for this game
of finding emotions inside from the outside

They seem plastic and superficial, I prefer dolls
or figurines of fairies, paintings and drawings
I love wide-eyed wonder most of all…
*

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Threw Down The Gauntlet

*
Skeptics are skeptical not for lack of evidence
but for lack of interest, loudly declaring “There
is no proof” until proof is presented such as
Professor Ian Parrott’s book “The Music of
Rosemary Brown”

I use my imagination to understand, lacking
observational evidence for everything, from
sub-atomic particles to the age of the
universe, I believe everything to be
potentially true

Rejoicing in the fact that Rosemary Brown wrote
music in the style of Liszt, Chopin, Bach and
Beethoven, a probability proven by the eye-
witness accounts of music lovers like
Hephzibah Menuhin

Richard Rodney Bennett, Humphrey Searle
and Ian Parrott who recognized the new
music dictated by famous composers

I wonder how Francis Clive-Ross, skeptic editor
of the occult magazine ‘Tomorrow’ who threw
down the gauntlet for evidence of this kind

Lived his boring life, rejecting everything a-priori
that refuted limited sensory experience

If I were confined to my own mind like that
I would have gone stark, raving mad!


“Spirit Communication” Roy Stemman, Piatkus, 2005,
pages 46-48
*

Roses In Soft Mauve

*
A top as sheer and beautiful as fairy
wings next to my bed, another mid-
night blue with silver stripes, a third
rose pink for summer fairy dreams

All adorned with shiny dewdrop buttons,
for the first time in a million years I found
tops I love in a local store, big and wide
enough, roses made in soft mauve

For the first time in an age I shall wear
lovely stuff instead of T-shirts plain and
boring, tomorrow I’ll wear my new blue
top, a dewdrop string in my hair

Tonight I must end my dreams, get ready to
concentrate on editing the translations I did
not touch all weekend, withdraw my mind
from fantasies, focus on conquering

Boring lists, there must be ways to make as-
sembly line work interesting, enliven endless
lists, if all fails, I’ll cry until I’m miserable,
all routine work must be better than nothing

Now I’m looking at famous mediums: John Edward,
Ena Twigg, Battling Bertha, Lilian Bailey, Brian
Inglis, EileenGarrett, and the scientists who
tested them: William James, Sir Oliver Lodge

Sherlock Holmes, Oscar Wilde - I sigh; must put
the fun away to work on prescribed texts, non-
informative, monotonous, translated correctly
no place for innovation or interpretation

I NEED visions and dreams to help me through
meaningless activities required in reality…
*

Saturday, February 13, 2010

My Rioting Imagination

*
Enjoying fantasies, reading claims on subjective
non-verifiable experience real for the author only,
enjoying the dream until the author cautions not
to let imagination run riot

He hangs himself by his words, rejecting the only
basis on which he can be read, his words delineate
personal events, neither I nor anybody I know have
ever heard or seen spirits

Cautioning readers against the only thing enabling
us to enjoy his descriptions of a non-sensory world
which we cannot experience, means we should not
accept his word on anything

Spiritual books enlarge the scope of probability and
create infinite possibility, but do not contain exclusive
truth, EVERYTHING is true for those who had the
experience, fantasy is the only bridge

That enables us to imagine what others have seen-
without it, communication becomes impossible,
only by my rioting imagination can I continue
to read Robert Brown!


“We Are Eternal - What the Spirits tell me about Life
after Death” Robert Brown - I was highly amused
when reading on p.186 “…try not to let our imagi-
nations run riot” – because reading this spiritual
book is one big romp for the imagination!
*

Friday, February 12, 2010

Sleek, Blasé, Stuck-Up

*

Brought my translations home, planning to
make up for lost time at the office, editing
them here - feeling much too happy tonight
to make a start, reading jokes, progressing
with Pinch-Me, love Sara Moone as queen
of cool - I have never mastered the art

I dream of looking haughty and superior when
embarrassed, thus far only managed flushed
and uncomfortable, turning into Quasimodo,
hunchback of Notre Dame, although I dreamt
of being Esmerelda, my visual image changes
every time I look in the mirror

The naughty James Bond girl looks happy but
disappears in public, my Orphan Annie act des-
troys all chance of looking chic and worldly-wise
I should stop looking at pictures of fairies to get
the sleek, blasé, stuck-up look just right, must
look at pictures of rich, fashionable people

But my desire for dreams and magic wins and I
return to the wide-eyed wonder of Disney’s fairies
while laughing about Terry Pratchett depicting
these lovely creatures as evil - the element of
pure joy and fun is much more important than
impressing others with cool – besides

The moment I open my mouth, my image is
shattered by my loud laugh…
*

Melted Frozen Teardrops

*
I like it when I turn into a flower
I love it when I suddenly discover
make-believe unexpectedly, feel
my heart opening, I picked up my
magic crown, melted frozen tear-
drops with a warm kiss

Put my crown on my head where it
belongs, allowing the six clips to be-
come ladybirds, rejoicing in a formula
that changes me into Eva Ibbotson’s
Belladonna who saw Arriman in the
magic mirror at the witches’ feast

Following my guru’s advice to take
sustenance from every uplifting idea
I come across, hunting I came upon
other people who live on dreams also
wearing my crown as a tribute to love
and hope that live forever in hearts

And that will always bring soulmates
together, no matter how far apart…
*

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Dewdrops For Secret Crown

*
REVISED

Took the secret crown of dewdrops
turned into frozen teardrops from
my head, hung a chain of flowers
on my screen, adding tear-
drops on a string

Sad black clips keep hair neat and
tidy, no fairy magic here today
crying while reading ‘Adam and
Eve and Pinch-Me’ describing
her empty life

Her feelings frozen underground, a
cover for the tears I cry in my
disappointment, a prisoner
of endless official
documents

More dewdrops for my
secret crown…

*
ORIGINAL

Took the secret crown of dewdrops
from my head, saw it actually was
frozen teardrops, hung a chain of
miniature wild flowers in the magic
area around my computer, added
the shiny string of teardrops to it

Six black clips to pin back my hair
tidy and neat, no wings and fairies
today, just teardrop pools, crying
while reading ‘Adam and Eve and
Pinch-Me’ identifying with Sara
Moone, the protagonist saying

‘I get involved in books - it becomes
embarrassing’ using the description
of her going underground, her empty
life, as a cover for crying tears for my-
self, for disappointment, imprisoned
amongst stacks of documents

More dewdrops for
my secret crown...
*

Dreaming Harmonics

*
Harmonic Dimensions – David Wilcock
http://ascension2000.com/Convergence/9908.html

Aum – sound, light,
shape - formed by
pulsating superstring
balls

vibrating cycles per
second forming pitch,
shape, colour

represented by
symbols and
numbers

Seven notes in a scale
seven geometric shapes
seven rainbow colours
form the universe

combining sound, light
and shape in octaves
of eight frequencies

Our dimension is a
crystallised golden
octahedron vibrating
at 360 cycles
per second

Earth rotating
around the sun in
+ 360 days per year
within 360 degree spirals

This is the basis of
vibrational physics:

Crystal frequencies as
vibration per second
become sound tones -
doubled vibration ratios
become coloured light

Light and sound vibrating
as same energy in two-
speed mathematical
relations

Numbers represent
vibrations of light and
sound at the same time

frequency numbers
- 288, 324, 360- as
found in religion
and myths

Relations between
octave tones as
key to planetary
cycles

Start with root
number 12 and
add to itself

12 - 24 - 36 - 48 - 60

Ratios between
sound vibrations
being the same as
ratios between light
in coloured vibrations

Same as ratios of
planetary orbits
and cycles of
sunspots and
the solar
system

Vibrational harmonic
numbers enclose
all earthly
cycles

HIGH….....
…..……………………..........DO ………576+………………………RED Sphere
……………………………..........8
…….…………………........TI ………540+36……………VIOLET Icosahedron
…………………………........7
…….………………......LA ………480+60…………..INDIGO Dodecahedron
…………………….......6
…….…………….....SO ………432+48…………BLUE Cube………….
…………………......5
……………......FA ………384+48………GREEN Tetrahedron
……………......4
…….……....MI ………360+24………YELLOW Octahedron
……………....3
…….…...RE ………324+36……..ORANGE Icosahedron
………....2
…… DO …….. 288+36 … …..RED Sphere……….
…… ..1
….
LOW
*

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Gateway to a Secret Place

*
A string of glittering dew-drops around
my head turning me into a magical fairy
being a pillar of society not working well
went to the library, collected old favourites
to read, books I love, return to again and
again through the years

Velvet words enfolding my heart in soft
happiness, escaping the heartache of
my inability to concentrate on a non-
sensical text with calm acceptance; en-
chanting words forming a gateway to a
secret place in my mind

Where I am safe, the bitter-sweet feeling
of Adam and Eve and Pinch-Me, sparkle
of Up on Cloud Nine by Anne Fine, luxu-
riating in the warmth of these tales, de-
lighting in the cathartic dénouement ex-
perienced by the sweet characters

Their confrontation with life inspires new
hope that there is a place for people like
me who cannot master routines and
lose control all the time…


“Adam and Eve and Pinch-Me“ Julie Johnston
“Up on Cloud Nine” Anne Fine
*

A Very Wacky Pillar

*
Disappointed, I feel like crying
today started so well, looking for-
ward to French class - postponed till
tomorrow, expectantly did administration
messed up getting doc. names all wrong

Disgusted by the bad result of my honest
attempt to succeed, returned to my boring
document, fell into the black hole lurking in
my head, feelings of joy and expectation
all evaporated

Elation of reading about strange artefacts
abated, falling headlong into oblivion, wish
I could return to last night’s excitement, saw
people acting like I always do when hubby
remonstrates NOBODY acts like that

Last night he saw they do, but that way of life
only allowed for famous artists, I am a salaried
assembly line translator, my heart is broken -
I don’t want to be here, but I must in order to
achieve my childhood ideal

Of being a loyal pillar of society, though I am
a very wacky pillar, likely to grow worse with
age, I’m glad to report, you can force me to
toe the line, but you can’t force me to
toe it correctly!
*

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Showing Their Feelings

*
Watching So You Think You Can Dance
for the first time this season, I can associate
with people’s emotional reaction, showing
their feelings, oh heaven, I know I cannot
dance but love people showing emotion

I thought I was dead, I had died today, I
could not revive my spirit, horrible texts to
translate, it was like suicide reading them
death and destruction to transcribe them
I was so despondent

Feeling the limits maiming my soul, then
came this program, the iron rods enclosing
my heart and head were suddenly sprung;
just for the privilege to watch this program
I shall suffer through my work

Force my unwilling mind to look up every term
sit in my chair while my heart is bleeding, So
You Think You Can Dance will come again -
I respect all people who live like dead, but
I NEED, desperately need people

Who are really alive, express feeling and jump
around - even if I cannot jump myself, to watch
my kind of people in action helps - whereas
dying emotionally while engaged in boring
work, feels like slow suicide!
*

Strange Delusions

*

Reading the strange delusions of
someone who wants to take over
the government, my head held in
the loving caress of the allergy’s
grip, my spirit suffering

Start looking at pictures of fairies
Google taking me directly into the
land of magic and pain becomes
inconsequential as I stare at
images of ethereal fairies

That promise the existence of
various realms governed by
different rules, little
creatures exist who
travel on wings

I might meet them one day, once
I am pure consciousness
traveling about as
intelligent
energy…
*

Passion, Feeling And Being

*
Things going on around me are brilliant,
I work in paradise with angelic colleagues,
it is the things happening in my digestion
system, sensitive to chemicals and coloring,
intolerant of fat and sugar and oil and all
things nice, susceptible to condiments and
flavourful spice, soy sauce in black and
white; that rob me of my thoughts

I love eating comfort food, but my system
reacts negatively to all the enchanting stuff
I consume with such delight, once fallen into
a spiral of food intolerance I crave more things
that work like drugs, bread and cake and sweet
things, clever outsiders say I should only eat
what is safe for my digestion, bland vegetables,
meat without fat, coarse salt and pepper

No wine and coffee and tea and cool drink; guess
what, I lose the headache and the will to live also,
as the pain decreases painless fatigue becomes
unbearable, I’d rather be in a murderous rage
than feel bland and emotionally dead all the
time, I’ll experiment and eat and drink – life
is for passion and feeling and being, not for
existing in a painfree condition

Which is so boring, I might as well be dead!
*

Monday, February 8, 2010

Breathe Without Feelings

*
...‘boring ideas do not offer room for any
other emotional response than quiet boredom,
drowning in greyness, how do we breathe
without feelings?’...

*
Seth’s exciting explanations regarding the
simultaneous nature of intersecting realities,
various aspects of soul existing in several
dimensions at once, highlight the bizarre
contrasts in mediumistic messages

Preaching belief in spirit worlds while rejecting
reincarnation due to lack of evidence, readers
of their books are expected to believe without
spirit evidence, yet applying their own criteria
we should reject their claims

Their guides are much more limited than Seth
reported by Jane Roberts describing a vast
multiverse – but I accept everything, I love
books like “We Are Eternal” by medium
Robert Brown

He opens doors in the suffocating walls of sensory
reality imprisoning me in one official time and place
with no emotional involvement while my heart longs
to experience a multitude of feelings, to exult
in a wide range of

Emotional nuances and different atmospheres, words
conveying boring ideas do not offer room for any
other emotional response than quiet boredom,
drowning in greyness, how do we breathe
without feelings?

Robert Brown “ We are Eternel”
2004 Hodder and Stoughton
*

Sunday, February 7, 2010

An Acid Test

*

The Netherland Protestant Church pays an atheist to
disband the church, to teach people to stop doing
religion because God does not exist

It must be very strange going to his church – No, we
don’t pray here, there is no God to pray to - No, we
don’t worship here

There is no sacred being - No, we don’t sing hymns
because there is no creator to exult – No, we don’t
discuss life after death

There is nothing beyond this life and this world – No,
we don’t administer the sacraments, do not baptize,
keep no Holy Communion

We don’t look at crucifixion, there is no God who had
a son, we don’t conclude marriages, there is no God
to witness a vow being made

People who trust in religion will be exasperated, Bibles
will probably be confiscated and incinerated, believers
should go somewhere else

I approve of this acid test for the congregation, if they
continue to attend, they deserve what they get, if they
object, their faith is true

They would be excommunicated from the liberated church
who finally came out of the closet to admit its long-standing
atheism - if the flock pays

An atheist to tell them why they should stop paying him, they
ought to find better things to do with their money and true
believers will be freed from the false yoke

Of religious exploiters who use the church system to subject
people for political purposes, the few people who really
believe will be freed from such parasites

* ****** ******** *********
Dr Klaas Hendriks from The Hague wrote a book “Belief
in a God that does not exist” declaring his book is against
the church order and if his view is acceptable, there is
something wrong with church foundation

The church decided to let him spread the message of atheism
from the pulpit in a grand act of admission that they are tired
of hiding their atheism, they want to be a humanitarian company
that gets paid for altruism and social welfare

Such honesty is commendable and will give the congregation
a chance to seek religion amongst true believers, not the
official church system which has been atheistic since its
Catholic beginnings

Except for a very few special people, real believers are mostly
found amongst the prosecuted, whenever religion brings
material benefits people stop believing and simply use
the system to obtain material advantages

"Geloven in een God dat niet bestaat" Klaas Hendriks
*

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Quilt Of Loving Words

*
I’ll wrap you in a quilt of warm, loving words
make you realize how wonderful you are, do you
trust yourself enough to let me beam all you
feel back at you, will you allow me to
reflect the beauty of your soul

I cannot teach love of self, your gifts and
personality, I cannot tell you anything, you
have to see it for yourself, I hold a mirror
to your face, hope you have the grace to love
yourself so much, you will love me too

I’ll pack your heart in cotton wool, softer than
any words you’ve ever heard, I’ll sing you a
lullaby sweeter than angelic hosts, I’ll wrap
my love in new terms that will lift you from
the depths of grief in which you dwell

My love will fill your heart with light and lift you
high so you can fly without wings, my words will give
you strength to hold the love of your life even more
than before without needing her to live at all
you will become strong enough

To make it on your own, buoyed up by my love
as light and energy, a rhythmic melody which
I send to you…
*

Want To Be Here?

*


When crying and the clouds cry
with me I feel a little better, when
teardrops falling as raindrops
appear, I feel comforted

Feeling the pain of Monday morning
on Saturday afternoon, nothing stops
me fearing the struggle and pain
contained in the work I do

Administration – keeping track of every
breath, every death, every hope and
every dream, it is like imprisoning
the spirit

Now is not the time to think on it, I am
trying to flee terror building up in me -
there is no escaping Monday
morning, all I can do is

Try to forget that it is coming, forget
myself and all my fears, relishing the
comfort of a warm blue top inherited
from Tiaan

Wearing blue pajamas in the middle
of the day, looking at my figurines -
symbolical of so many thoughts and
dreams

The thought of you and what you
would say, plaguing me - would
you, in any case, want
to be here?
*

Swimming With The Clouds

*
Third Saturday in a row with headache
do only the most necessary, trying to
build bulwarks against the pain, mental
control by watching André Rieu’s musical
carnaval not working, seeking solace in
The Sound of Music

Swimming with the clouds, a tower of books
to change my mindset and mood, spiritual gurus
say all pain starts in the head, maybe I’m missing
you, I keep repeating the gurus’ mantra ‘I choose
love’ – it earned me a compliment in the shop,
made me feel good - but

The pain did not go away, Spirit Communication
by Roy Stemman not helping, those I love are still
alive although inaccessible - I repeat the love mantra
and think of you, dreaming of a time when written words
will reach me in image and sound…

- desperate when thinking of doing my work
while the pain in my head registers as
a hole in my heart -
*

Friday, February 5, 2010

Joyous Moment

*
Earphone problem solved, enormous
sunscreen on my head, simply wound
the earphone cord around the sides
a colleague said it looked funky
so there I went to the library

Playing I am a journalist in a war-torn
zone of Africa walking down the street
amongst an exotic African throng with
gunfire in the distance, desperate
people expecting the newspaper

To report their plight, cynical mercenaries
waiting to fight with me, using the movie
‘Blood Diamond’ as a framework to give
joyous meaning to this moment in time
and having such fun…
*

All The Love I’ve Known

*
One little official in her chair, earphones
on head to block out the silence in which
her colleagues work industriously

Creeping on hands and knees underneath
the desk to answer a ringing phone, unable
to understand how the security guard

Can stare in the distance doing nothing all
day long, tackling a message about a missing
person, giving up to delineate her mission instead:

I use everything, regardless of nature or label
as a mirror for introspection, a mirror that
materializes everything that is in me

Work is an opportunity to find myself, my workplace
challenges my illusions, forces me to face my fears,
gifts and talents

I want to transform my inner landscape without
reference to external things or people, other
than the joy of loving them

Accepting them JUST as they are, honouring
all by never trying to change anything about
anybody, offering respect

I like relationships for the experience they teach, my
ideal is to be free from responsibility for anybody’s
happiness, setting them free from responsibility for me

I don’t want to make anybody unhappy, my inner imp goes
underground in the face of conflict, offer a neutral front
conforming with others’ wishes to make them feel well

While the imp does his own thing in total freedom; I want
to learn to love what seems absolutely unlovable such as
Tiaan’s music, it forms a bond between us

My view of death is that I shall take myself with me
making the idea of travelling through eternity with
myself into an exciting concept

I want to become my own best companion, I don’t
want to fit into society because in the end there
will only be my own consciousness

And all the love I’ve known
*

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Dusted My Face

*
[REVISED]

There’s a tuck shop on the ground
floor of Kingsley Building - the lady
seemed to have suffered delayed bomb
shock, her eyes were dead as if the end
of the World had already happened
before I first went in there

Today her demeanor is changed, it struck
me so forcibly this week, I’ll have to ask
her what happened, I can’t put my finger
on why or when though now it is quite
some time since I lost my fear of
going there

She reacts with a new smile on her
face, it is simply marvelous, I wish
I could make this into a good poem
because the delight is so great, I suppose
it will have to remain a diary note as
no intrigue of grand expression easily
presents itself

And it was so kind of her to clean
my face!

*
[ORIGINAL]

Life is full of mystery, a tuck shop
a lady with a despondent face, the
end of the world, I decided to stay
out of her way, not to buy anything
in such a sad atmosphere

One day without thinking I bought
popcorn from her and she smiled,
now when I see her, she enquires
about my health, if I carry a book
she wants to know what I read

Passing with the crumbs of an illegal
pie on my person she dug in her bag
for a tissue and dusted my face, I left
laughing, delighted by her attention
her tuck shop changed into a haven

I told her I am looking forward to going
to heaven and she declared happily
there still is some living to do, she
is changed so much, I cannot
believe my own memories!
*

My Knight In Blue

*
Happily installed in a corner waiting
for my lift home, accosted by a street
urchin ‘I want to talk’ I stepped away
another man in blue overall stepping
in ‘What do you want’

‘I just want to know what street this is’
was the reply, the knight in blue armour
sent him off and nodded at me, the urchin
thanked him, gave me a goodwill sign of
thumbs-up, I replied by making

The thumps-up sign also, thanked the blue
overall man, apologized for stepping away
and he nods, satisfied; I love the beautiful
people of my county on this beautiful day
of bright silver sun

And luminescent sapphire sky, their
kindness and goodness astound me - I
love them all, convinced even the urchin
meant well, yet how reassuring the
gallant gesture of

My knight in blue!
*

Colourful Charlatans

*
How boring the world would be
without colourful charlatans and
criminals

If only materialists and sceptics were
allowed to express themselves, if only
disciplinarians appeared in abundance

The world would die…

For any exciting person and theory ten
sceptics arise, trying to reduce the world
to total boredom

Outlawing all colours except black and
white, right and wrong according to their
book

I respect their boring opinion, wishing them
luck in their little grey worlds, carefully es-
chewing their company

Preferring tricksters and fraudsters to those
involved in the legal professions where profit
and trickery are so intermixed

Moral and ethical principles are pitilessly des-
troyed without the honest crime that marks the
exciting trickster and savage criminal

So direct and easily identified…
*

Dissecting Corpses On Paper

*
Be in the moment, recommends my
spiritual book, sitting here typing notes
on several corpses is where I am

I should be delighted on being involved
in my own life, strangely enough dissecting
corpses on paper fails to stir approval within me

According to the love guru it is my own fault, I
should feel joy in having a focus of such mag-
nitude, a body is clothing comforts Doris Stokes

I am sorting discarded apparel - how very encou-
raging, tomorrow I will be dancing for joy when
the next corpse enters my consciousness

The spirit people may send me messages, I will
have personal evidence of life after death, how
enticing, all due to Interpol investigating

The abandoned corpses laying about like
discarded pieces of clothing in Italy…
*

Reminders Of Essential Things

*

A study is a very important place
with a notice board for reminders
of essential things, ours are used
to remind us of the pizza takeaway
place that also delivers and other
eateries, the kids are supposed to
indicate homework assignments,
I use the study to remind me that
magic exists by adorning a home-
made mirror with fairies and mer-
maids, but I still feel depressed
with only Doris Stokes to read…
*

*

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Criticize Me Also

*
I love popularising classical music
taking pieces from their highbrow
exclusivity to the masses in a new
happy guise, I submit willingly to
André Rieu’s festive atmosphere
using love of music as a unifying
factor to overcome the political
divisions that fractured the world
in the twentieth century

I should not listen and then go hair-
splitting when recordings seem low
quality - but I like practicing the ability
to make scathing comments, it is fun
and cannot hurt my victims, it sets
other people free to criticize me
also and I need a lot of it, so
here we go!
*

Visual Delight Not Voice Quality

*

André Rieu’s soprano’s are chosen for
visual delight, not voice quality, the DVD
recording of Barcarolle and O Mio Babbino
Caro sport beautiful women with mediocre
voices

Edita Gruberova spoiled me, enveloping the
ear in rich velvet tones, in comparison the voices
of Rieu’s beauties present a thin moth-eaten material
rolling thickly between notes, without clean, fresh, crisp
movements

Rieu draws attention to their appearance when introducing
them to keep the focus away from the sound of their voices
and the radiant lady belting out “Oh When The Saints” in New
York is off-tune, it grates on my nerves, maybe he never meant
anyone

To listen attentively, playing his music while trying to translate
little documents, getting up feeling depressed for no reason at
all, trying to find solace in music to be confronted with low-quality
voices, the Hallelujah Chorus is colourless, lacking fire - but I shall
always

Appreciate his orchestra - although the vocal work reminds of
the Gunther Kallmann choir, especially Chanson D’Amour
not my favourite at all - let me return to my salaried job
to fight against depression by maiming words…
*

Disseminating Hope (Rev.)

*
Helplessly bored while
facing my chores, working
against the tide, paddling
upstream in a nightmarish
dream but making no way
and accomplishing nothing

Chemicals make my mind
ungovernable, lying on my
arms drifting downstream
going with the flow, love
disseminating hope, sowing
dreams in despairing hearts

Instead of messages about
stolen vehicles I hope the
thieves had a marvellous
drive as they charged
away, my own fantasy
not to be despised

What my heroine did on
meeting him, putting him
in his place for scorning
her independent mind
beating him in a contest
to prove superiority…
*

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Joyous Exuberance

*

A wish for good feelings is entailed in
every desire, success is measured by
the joy we feel, we accomplish in an
attempt to become happy - doing
our duty does not inspire us

Completing what we are paid to do requires
negation of the desire to live rambunctiously
fastening carrots of incentive to our own har-
nesses to dangle before us just out of reach
moving in conjunction with us

To provide motivation to work as the human
condition prescribes: Transport, kids, school
a place to sleep and dream of leaving the
reality as camouflage behind, moving into
esoteric spheres where

We shall be pure consciousness, free from
all limitation to awareness as joyous
exuberance…
*

Illegal Sensations

*
Most people delight in stomping out the
imagination, I work in a profession where
it is a crime to be an independent thinker
and dreaming is treason

I try to keep my imagination unfettered as
I don’t like being an automaton, my col-
leagues assure me it is a pain-free state
of existence, no passion, no desire

No feelings to interfere, just calm nirvana
in following rules and regulations and re-
fining rules through self-discipline, I fear
sliding gently into complacency

Scared of accepting everything just as it
is, I love people unconditionally but seek
protection against dying inside, when I
see a spark in somebody else

I want to share in its warmth, there are so
few whose spontaneity is untouched, you
say I should become disciplined and join
the fray, stop speculation

Seek no alternatives to reality and accept
being a non-entity like all translators who
read dictionaries and follow guidelines
blindly, happy with scholarly ideas

When I tried that in my youth the pain in
my soul was unbearable, I would rather
embrace the pain of desire and passion
than grow cold, inured

A passionless being without original
thought, beautiful dreams, illegal
sensations and wild fantasies…

Unless you get paid to use your imagination,
you had better kill it, they say, it is a useless
commodity and only the best actors, writers
musicians and poets are allowed any

If you are unknown, unsung and middle-class,
you shall be hung if imagination interferes with
your doing your duty, once you are cast as
Cinderella, you are forbidden to dream

Susan Boyle is an exception that proves the rule,
I beg to differ, my ideal is to become a professional
dreamer and teach others to dream with me, and
I shall not give it up, I would rather die…


*

Monday, February 1, 2010

Champagne In My Heart

*

Sitting here like a deflated balloon, looking
at everything, reading sacred words to make
my cork of happiness rise, nothing works, I
am still flat without any fuzzy bubbles rising
to the surface of my mind, I know happiness
lives in ourselves, I cannot look towards any-
one else to make me happy

But food, no-one can tell me the excitement
of food should also be banned, I shall leave
all other people out of the equation to find
their own truth, I shall find mine by eating
and drinking, to exist without bubbles of
champagne in my heart is unbearable,
the boredom of grey is much too dull

Without the intake of comfort food to supply
the vitality and energy that I lack on this day
of blue skies, the sun greeting me with silver
kisses this morning, how can I repay him if I
feel so glum, off I go, hunting for something
to eat that will turn my mental seismograph
in the direction of happiness

To become able and worthy to receive the joy
and delight the shine of the sun is bringing to
me - took Doris Stokes “Joyful Voices” to read
while enjoying breakfast, right now I feel strong
and elated, people in the spirit world communi-
cating, now we shall have an automatic machine
translation meeting, Authumato

Oh joy, lunch to come also and I am stuffed,
strangely enough, we only get extra food or
eat out on the days I splash out at a res-
taurant on my own, at least I am inflated
both heart and soul and unfortunately,
especially bodily also, I shall roll
down to the venue

Champagne bubbling in my heart…

“Joyful Voices” Doris Stokes
Futura Publications 1987
*

No-One Will Know

*
Crash, and my chairback snaps forwards
and I’ve had enough, yesterday I fell into
temptation and ate the food of life, humble
slices of bread, now I am paying the price

I’m sick of being allergic, always having to
hunt for special food in order to remain up-
right, backache is pulling me down, I will
not confess to my colleagues

I want to fight in the trenches with them, fight
against mountains of paperwork and prolife-
rating lists, I stopped speaking this morning
saving my little energy for doing my job

Now I give up, I cannot fight against myself
looking at words with my head full of hammers
beating against my temples, I carry my cross
in silence, I shall never catch up but

I am giving my all, I will remain at my post, carry
on at snail’s pace, fighting the urge to lie down in
defeat, grandma Alice would never have given up
and I shall follow her beautiful example, I shall be

Cinderella of the office today, just good enough to
do basic work like cleaning language grates from
ashes of wrongly applied words, hiding my dis-
comfort and despair so no-one will know
*

Burkina Faso - Burkinan

*
A priceless bit of information ensuring
me an eternity of grace for doing my
duty as an assembly line translator
looking up the generic appellation
for a person from Burkina Faso

He or she is called a Burkinan which
rhymes with Buchanan, Louisianan
Conan, my favourite barbarian
Tongan - Oh, the joys of non-
sensical information

Lewis Carrol would be overjoyed by
rules ensuring that making limericks
becomes a mechanical function
carried out by dictionaries

Alice in the Red Queen’s palace
would be aghast, I suppose, but
the Mad Hatter and March Hare
would rejoice also…

And I had the temerity to call
him Burkinabe, oi vey…

Oxford Dictionary of Rhymes. 2007.
Oxford University Press. Encyclopedia.com.
1 Feb. 2010 http://www.encyclopedia.com/
*

Superficial Beautific Expressions

*
I love real wonderment, but singers with
superficial beautific expressions on their
faces to create a simulated sense of awe
and idiotic innocence while the excitable
kind force out notes in mounting hysteria
are all insufferable, watching self-conscious
imitations of deep emotion is a
painful experience

I am suffering my way through this part of
André Rieu’s compilation to get to the good
parts, meddling with the DVD player makes
it angry and it switches off in a huff, no ca-
joling convinces it I have a right to skip certain
parts, stoically I sit through the hysterical
antics of the shouting brigade to get to Roses
From the South and The Emperor Waltz

But I refuse to be a martyr for the melodramatic
rendition of Some Day My Prince Will Come, the
singer with the self-satisfied expression but sadly
lacking in the vocal department posing with pigtails
is a disaster and even if my DVD stomps away in
offended irritation I shall skip Over the Rainbow
and What a Wonderful World

When these people belt out songs without true
emotion it is like the discordant screeches of
banshees in the night and I can do that myself…
*

Dying Eventually

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