Self-Destructive Resentment (Revised)

There is a pattern here: Mother’s financial support
is received from people with such clear resentment
towards her she appears the victim – yet in his book
“Breakthrough Experience” – Dr Demartini says
there are no victims, only people choosing certain
experiences – in mother’s case she married dad
whose diction is worse than a sailor’s

Dad supported her while showing her no respect,
later on in life mother gave my sister’s furniture
away and tried exorcism on me – which led to my
incarceration in a state mental hospital, running
the risk of never getting out again; luckily Tannie
Yvonne and Prof Piet DuPlessis got me out, I was
saved not my mother but by Strangers

Mother’s later interest in my brothers’ lives led
to their financial ruin, she’s currently involved in
my sister’s financial affairs and sis treats mother
with disrespect and resentment yet I can’t say a
word in mother’s defence, who is emotionally
blackmailing my sis into paying all credit accounts
and expenses; my sister hates her life:

WHY does mother’s involvement invariably lead to
financial ruin and moral disintegration – as it emerges
she propagates a theory she’s doing my sis a favour
by staying with her, despite my sister’s so palpable
resentment; I had to flee the lightning, mother
cannot stay with me as I wish to protect my little
family from such consequences

How can she bear disrespect of people she duped into
caring for her financially – they make no bones about
their resentment; without trying to understand how
mother blackmails people until they resent her in self-
destructive ways I vow to keep my little family out of
her reach while giving my sister the support that might
set her free from self-destructive resentment…

I Am Swimming Away (Revised)

She lives in her own bubble – doing what she
deems best for her budding business – trying
to ignore things irking her into impatience –
yet resentment makes her ugly in expressions
of bitterness – invariably the cause is mother’s
blithely yap-yap-yap way of talking

While everybody else just wants to get on with
their lives, drinking morning coffee in silence,
planning the day, ordering the workshop and
helping clients, while she has to face the one
who controls her with a hand of steel and she
has lost the will or ability to be friendly, to

Treat others with respect, no self-control left,
no good manners or etiquette, plain straight-
forward accusations and irrational actions to
put the blame on others – everybody else is
guilty except herself, she used this kind of
assistance once – now she pays eternally for

The privilege – a situation so negative in its
extreme I don’t want to get caught in it, this
driving me about since I cannot drive myself,
this getting me involved so I can take over
from her – isn’t working, I do not agree with
anything, there’s nothing honest or

Real, nothing true or eternal in this – the
story changes to suit the protagonists and to
draw me in – but I am swimming away…

To Be Me (Revised)

Early Saturday morning, it seems no other being alive –
one dive, just one stupid dive into the pool let water into
my ear – oh frustration and irritation, Nutcracker Suite
DVD ordered has still to arrive, waiting for the Saturday
‘usual’ routine to swallow me – shopping for the week,
planning meat or no meat, maybe fish or chicken, and
finally, reading my book – about balance between the
negative and positive as truer than one-sided rejection
of the negative – impossible in this dualistic universe as
degrees of everything are required to differentiate our
self from all else, but exercises a self-congratulating
author claims, like watching people and trees to become
one with everything, is a bit juvenile – so I skip these,
being a tree is a mystery to me, I cannot feel sap rising
just as I won’t succeed in setting my astral self free to go
visiting, keeping the silver chord intact while roaming
free – whether considering being a tree or astral spirit,
all I can manage is to be me...

Gerhard Visiting

Gerhard and I, Gehard came by
and we had some fun, we had
barely begun when the afternoon
was gone, why does time fly?

Never mind, the future is ours,
I shall not complain, soon we
shall visit again, reminisce about
our family relations

Rejoice in the freedom to leave
them behind - though we carry
our folks in the heart - the call
of blood to blood

He called her grandma, we called
her Tannie Klein, he called her
Tannie Max, we called her grand-
ma, so we knew each other's

Family, I hope Grandma Alice,
known as Tannie Max, was as
good to him as Tannie Klein
was to me!

Siestas In The Afternoon

In the music room listening to mother playing her
favourite pieces on the piano, reflecting on all the
things I have learned: not to lean on the driver of
a motorbike, I must keep my own head and helmet
up; singing gets on everyone’s nerves - there goes
my dream of singing on street till my voice is strong

And most important of all, people are impatient and
irritated when they get up from a siesta; mother is
very temperamental when you do something wrong
or fail to hear her imperial command, and the most
endearing thing is dad’s whole existence centres on
keeping the piano safe by cooling the music room

The piano’s strings are affected by the excessive heat,
he wedges in boards to keep the dogs out while leaving
the room open at night so that mom can play a piano
that is in tune; and as I tried to chase a sparrow stuck
in the music room flying up against the ceiling instead
of keeping low to leave through the door

I was hit on the head by a piece of wood and felt that
physical hurt is not as painful as criticism and emotional
wounds inflicted by people having siestas in the afternoon…

Wind In My Face (Revised)

Had my fast motorbike ride, sensation of wind
in my face, fingers cramped from holding tight
while swishing past lush green veldt each side,
first my head on the right then left, eventually
eyes closed and nearly passing out, a theory
forming in my head:

Anyone depressed is helped by a fast ride, the
imminent threat of death under acceleration
puts an end to despair in an adrenaline high
I express my theory to Pete driving the bike
I can’t drive one myself – he replied no
psychologist would use this therapy

They need patients to stay ill for income
guarantees and I agreed, healing is not their
aim – luckily I have the privilege to enjoy this
therapy for heart and mind!

Feel Free To Rejoice (Revised)

Christmas, the message visionaries dreamed long ago,
a Child who came to accord everyone – child, woman
and slave, the same status and rights that applied at
the time to rich, high and powerful men only; the new
world they dreamed of gave equal worth to members
of the human family equally – and this message was
spread through the birth of a child

For believer and nonbeliever alike a wonderful idea if
we forgo debate whether literally true, concentrate on
the symbolism only, let its meaning shine through; and
as we regain this beautiful story from despoilment and
misuse by covetous churches to enjoy it as individuals,
the light grows overpowering and we freely rejoice
without paying homage to an interloper, a supposed

intermediary holding people hostage under a reign of
terror – today we rejoice while paying respect only to
transforming power of dreams and ideas….

Frail Sailing Ship (Revised)

Slowly wrapping my parent’s presents in special paper,
decorating my sister’s gift with gold and silver glitter,
putting the frail sailing ship made of shells and wood
in a box to keep its mast from breaking; it’s a memory
of the time dad showed me how to draw a sailing ship
on the wall-painted blackboard when I was small

My mother’s mauve-with-pink-roses pillow is in a pink
bag, I’m delighted looking at beautiful things, my lilac
scarf draped around my new straw hat, artfully hung
on my lamp-cum-hat-stand, I’m sitting in rich golden
sunshine, watching amazing animals on Nat Geo Wild –
this the best time of the year, just before Christmas

On My Own (Revised)

If I had known you weren’t listening to anything
I said I wouldn’t have become upset; once I got
it into my head you only wanted to be driver or
organiser and supervisor, and not be bothered
having fun with the rest I went off on my own

enjoying prospects of dwelling in my very fertile
imagination, buying flowers, visiting a school
book fair to admire the brightly coloured covers,
going on a long walk on the beach, gazing at
washed out waves, kids playing in the surf

dreaming of being a thin sprite in a dress made
of sea water drops kicked up with my feet – not
crystal imitations, the real thing – that ought to
defy gravity – suspended like that – magnetised,
they would cling to my form; came home, smiled
at my soul’s effigy sitting on the bed –

a doll with a juvenile face I bought today – tried
to write but nerves in my hand paralysed by
vertebrae in my neck, went dead…
Saturday 15 December 2012

The Art Of Dreaming

I just wanted to hang out in the shop
with things that were interesting and
you refused, adamantly insisting we
leave then and there - it would have
cost you nothing to wait a few
minutes more

I just wanted company on the beach so
I could swim without being all alone in the
world and you refused, your cricket game
not even on yet - it would have cost you
nothing to spend a few minutes more with
me and you refused

Don't offer me a new cell phone with gadgets
galore - I'm bored by technology - I just want
TIME and you will not give me that; I want time
to stare at the flowers I like - see visions I can't
realise - I want space for dreams - keep your
ice-cold reality

Let me be alone in my mind, I cannot escape
into a book, this is the price I pay to become
fully functional at work, an average robot; as
soon as my mind is accustomed to the new
regime, I shall study the art of dreaming
again…

[Friday 14 December 2012]

Friends with the sun, wind and sea

Went into the shop seeking flowers, deliberating between
two bunches, one yellow and one pink, when my eye was
caught by a colourful top, finally I went away with two new
tops and a new hat - the other hats did not work, as you
can deduce, the wide-brimmed silvery one (do not mention
the black Mafia one at all)  was too large for my height, found
a straw hat with purple hatband - perfect

Went walk-about by myself after lunch, found a new invisibility
cloak (any large black top that makes one recede into the back-
ground counts for this), a white scarf - tying my new straw hat
with the scarf, looking like Miss Marple on the Orient Express -
also found mosaic tiles in yellow and green for my twin sis,
bought a book on Maps of the World - Piri Reis included -
for myself - what a brilliant find

Went swimming, finally caught those big waves at high tide, re-
newed my acquaintance with the sea at its best when the sea
is my exciting friend, though I pulled in my legs to roll like
a stone, the waves were so strong my legs unrolled in a back-
somersault, my neck in whiplash, my affair with the ocean as
passionate as ever, tomorrow we shall continue our relationship,
the sea and I - being friends with the sun, wind and sea

Makes life so easy - with delight only a heartbeat away

[Thursday 13 December 2012]

Wrestled It To The Ground

Today I tackled the growing heap of washing and wrestled it
to the ground, enjoying the work as the lack of achievement
which marks the holiday season wears me down, I managed
to worsen the sunburn by going on scary fun park rides with
Tiaan, swam in a calm sea lacking waves and cut a small slit
in my swimsuit to pour out the sand which gathers between
the two layers of material

Tomorrow we shall split up and each visit his favourite place;
I shall be off to the Bargain Bookshop; yesterday I bought
mother a cushion with roses sewed on top and heard angel
voices sing as I carried it home, bought dad the sailing ship
I have earmarked for him five years ago, also bought yellow
flowers identical to those in my office, the theme of light and
sweetness still filling my heart

Wednesday 12 December 2012

Scared And Unheard

Sunburnt, sorry for myself, lost in holiday-making,
the only challenge is making peace with myself,
no obstacle to overcome, no problem except de-
ciding what to eat when, going to the beach and
surviving the heat while you give the sea a wide
berth; why on earth did you want to come if this
is how you feel - at least the kids are having fun

Found a friend to hang out with, playing pool while
I gather the clothes to be washed, watch the cars
passing in the street - wondering how I fell into the
trap of holiday-spirit without the power to survive, I
am just like Marvin, the paranoid Android – at work
I fear those long documents, here I fear the lack of
challenges – it is my theory that I cannot die

For fear that when dead I would be bored and make too
much noise in the afterlife realm - boredom would send
me to the wrong frequency where those depressed and
cynical souls lurk – an eternity being depressed would be
hell indeed, maybe I should learn to sing loud and long in
the street like Edith Piaf did, instead of singing softly to my-
self as I always do, maybe it would develop my voice

Maybe I could sing for my life instead of driving my family
wild - but given my Marvin-like propensities and complete
inability to be wild and inconsiderate; I suppose singing
will remain in the domain of the scared and unheard…

Your Tumultuous Life (Revised)

First I’m blamed for being inappropriately keen
to leave while you claimed a need for ice; tho’ I
was prepared already I had to beg forgiveness,
explaining I was being inconsiderate, to help
reduce your mounting ire

Then you said, now we should leave, and I was
too slow reacting, you gave a speech about
my being unbecomingly slow whenever you
wanted to do anything – by that time
I was completely resigned

To the autocratic boss in you, I did not bother
with repartee, it is useless to anticipate your
taste; whatever I do, I’ll be in trouble again,
I might as well accept that you are bound to
blame me for whatever happens

In your tumultuous life…

Pack My Bag For A Trip To The Sea

I still haven’t learned how to say no
when food is pressed under my nose,
nobody held a gun to my head but I
still felt compelled to hold up my end
and consume more than I have room
for, a headache for my pains, rather
down in the mouth, all the fun gone

I wonder how more outgoing types
deal with the regret always felt after
going overboard, maybe it’s just some
of us who feel compelled to indulge
in feeling sorry for themselves after
a very singular event, it feels as if
I’m carrying the whole world

On my shoulders simply because I
couldn’t stop when offered chicken
wings with two sauces, after laughing
at Leon Schuster reels I fell back into
this feeling of malaise – now abiding
my time to get the right vibrations
back so I can laugh again

And pack my bag for a trip to the
sea, always a wondrous place 
to me…

As The Prophets Said I Should (Revised)

An accolade of full marks in my French exam,
paid a speeding fine smiling knowing nothing
can faze me now; simple, past and imperfect
verbs paid off their learning, I have the goods
displayed for attending class as our manager
required – a certificate, no less, proof of
hours spent concentrating, doing my best

Tomorrow I’ll finish the documents on my desk,
Friday its goodbye to my colleagues and friends
and a trip to the Cape – to criticise the people on
the beach sardonically, embarrass my kids by
rolling in the surf; this time I’m taking my French
Bible for character building since I’ve given up
on books - just as

The prophets said I should

Seemingly Good Beset By Cowardice

I know certain things are run by idiocy, the most immoral and
unprincipled rise to the  top; but what makes me wonder no end
is why seemingly moral people abet and support them, the only
reason is the seemingly good are also beset by cowardice, need
to relate to weaker specimens, feeling threatened by those with
high moral principles - which means the seemingly good are not
good underneath, just white-washed tombstones

Best is find the humour in their doings, laugh as the situation is
droll - I know the fragile peace between us only exist because I
traded freedom for advantages – however conditional – what use
would freedom be if you were not there to help me deal with the
duties of life – we only live in peace because I obey the law laid
down by physical force - and why not,  being free and alone with-
out a home and family would be meaningless

New friends might reveal more of the shortcomings forming part
of life in captivity - after all, when I relate our farcical discussions
to my friend, we laugh no end  - thus this relationship affords food
for the soul, sometimes I want equal rights but if I wait long enough,
the feeling subsides, I can leave this task for another to complete;
discrepancy between want and need is illustrated by all, why should
I want anything less in my life; let me bow,

Lick your shoes, say amen to all you say, be silent long enough; let
me be very obedient - facing a male prima donna is not my way, I
love quiet contemplation and peace, let me look down on the world,
see the unprincipled leading the way - and be calm, what does it
matter what they do and say, as long as I manage to keep my eye
on the vision of what harmonies might be encountered after this
life of sorrow has passed…

Face Concealed Under My Hat (Revised)

I waltz into the office after lunch, brag about my
new Mafia hat which makes me look like a rich widow
– my colleagues looked askance, said Rich Widow –
you hope; I amended it to The Merry Widow – Franz
Lehar’s operetta, I can see me on stage singing,
face concealed under the brim - but receiving
less enthusiastic response from a working crowd

I hung it on a hatstand to look impressive among
silver chains, xmas decorations already finding
their way there and a white scarf with silver
glitter; going home I took it with me to look
again at the toy in my hands – not wishing my
realistic family to burst my bubble too soon,
I hid the hat, as yet a game too new

To have shattered, a dream I’ll treasure until
ready to let go of what it means to me…

So Loftily Silent

Why buy newspapers when you refuse to discuss
anything appearing in it, totally unconcerned that
the farmers are tortured on their farms, killed for
their money and livestock – as long as YOU are
safe in a cushy job while the rest of the country
burns and dies and goes down the drain, you
simply will not say anything

FINE, swallow your bloomin’ newspapers, delight
in your existence without sympathy wasted on farmer
martyrs - their function of food provision does not
concern anybody, especially the government, who
cares what happens to anybody as long as they
are safe far away from children suffocated in
boiling water, people burned with hot irons

Why should you care, you can import food from
overseas or anywhere, who needs farmers here
in South Africa, you cannot be bothered even to
express sympathy with their fate, may you wash
your hands in innocence while the country burns,
following your political masters who see the land
as just another Tunisia to be sucked dry

By government and all their acolytes; destroy all
private business until the state is bankrupt and
international groups must administrate the remains
of their destruction - oh well, I am glad you are all
so happy while these people cry unto heaven –
retribution follows when people are exploited,
hope you will be so loftily silent then…

Watching My Feet…

I keep changing my clothes in a desperate attempt to feel different,
Seth says the physical world changes constantly, the only thing I see
changing is the layer of dust covering my figurines, just to illustrate
what Says says I carried my figurines to a table of glass, arranged
them in a different way, encircling their glass stand with blue material
which covered our Christmas gift:

A large round metal container for wine bottles at the table, we never
need something like this, maybe the kids one day will use it - I saw a
chandelier in the shop where this is sold – which I would much rather
have, but it is too late, we are stuck with the metal bucket – maybe I
can let grandkids play in it – if one day I shall have some, given that
both my son and daughter vehemently expostulates

Against the idea of having descendants, what with the present weather
conditions, I cannot blame them, they still wonder why I wanted to have
them – I fondly reply because I was lonely and needed support from
someone totally on my side - of that I am completely assured - Tiaan
leading me as if I were a hundred years old, Nici telling me what to
wear and sighing when I go wrong

To return to the beginning, I keep changing my attire in order to feel
the desire for life that Abraham-Hicks says should be mine, to feel the
control that Seth says we all have all the time, but whatever I’m wearing,
within about fifteen minutes I have to change again – changing flip-flops
helps - blue to brown to pink and purple – changing the look of my feet,
though it is bad for my neck to look down all the time

Watching my feet…

[Sunday 2 December 2012]