Words All Gone To Dust

I saw your messages and replied, but never knew whether
my replies got through, could not start my mountain climb
as I was caught in nettles of anger on beholding the
terrible terms that have to be researched

The lines are horrible and contain no melody, even less
meaning as politicians' waffle in order to get funding
for projects from which they will extract their share
first and give the rest to the really needy ones

I'm afraid this mountaintop is lost in the mist of never-never
at this moment... and how are you - hope you find things to
laugh about - esp. the picture of me as the country's clown
trying to pose as a serious translator

Then falling down as the terms I see are incomprehensible
and with my legs being more prehensile I'm meant to climb
trees and having fun, not crying about illegible terms I can’t
interpret as my brain refuses to give up fantasy

Magic and trees - and it must give up if I am to translate
words all gone to dust!

Lovely View From Above

Once again I’m at the bottom of a high peak, cold,
steep and hostile, I want to reach the top, the joy of
completing a difficult job, starting again the painful
climb through impossible terrain, perspiring from the
heat and hating it

Falling over the sharp stones of strange terms, getting
tangled in the poison ivy of ugly lines without metre,
timbre and rhyme, trying to understand and relay an
alienating text about policies and strategies, politicians
making promises  in strange terminology

I sacrifice for the desire to reach the top, however bad
the way, the thirst as soothing water of understanding
isn’t reached, I must cross this dark terrain to reach the
feeling of accomplishment, see the enchanting view
from above - though I hate the suffering

I LOVE the end result- the feeling of exultation upon
completion of this work, the lovely view from above,
there is no other way to get high enough when we
passionately love the dizzying heights of
accomplishment…

28 JANUARY 2013

Cannot Wait To Start Packing And Stacking

Boxes with books, I’m sending every superfluous book
to Musina from where they can be carted to Zimbabwe
by the big trucks passing through there, also every hidden
magazine, maybe my sis can start her own library for the
children who cannot get to luxuriously equipped learning
centres

The possibilities are endless, with magical books around,
who can tell what the future will bring? I have stockpiled
books, old encyclopaedias, all supplanted by the Internet
but sorely lacking in rural areas, the books could not go
before I had found a place where they are needed - I can't
wait to start packing

And stacking and checking and playing with these books,
making sure they are ready for adventure, ready for a trip
to their final destiny – not the local rubbish dump or a
shredder as you have so often said, breaking my heart
with your lack of sympathy!

28 January 2013

Still Savouring These

Came home in a frozen state, my son’s gift to me
a waffle bought from Nathan, Tiaan accompanied
me, shared the meal of strawberries and cream on
the best waffle base ever seen, with a dash of
chocolate sauce and ice-cream

My heart melted by my son’s sweet deed, Nici gave
me special chocolate, suddenly I felt at home in my
own life and world, the final treat was to reread ‘The
Time Thief’; two of my favourite books, Lobsang
Rampa and James Bond

Brought together in one tale that sings; laying with
my head in your lap, the dog behind my back I am
in heaven, however difficult it had been to create
this small world, saying no to all other options,
the pain of leaving everything

That could take me away from this, completely gone;
safely arrived in my own life without regret, nothing I
left can compare to this - the love of my family, twin
sis and lovely colleagues; Hanlie with her sunshine,
June with her impishness

Hermien the calm organiser; you stroking my back
while making plans for another seaside holiday, a
heady mix of books and life warming my heart
and soul - I’m still savouring these

The Time Thief – Terry Pratchett

24 January 2013

This Day Has Passed

Everything ready for a visit to mother, the flowers in a wooden container, the
non-slip carpet and box doubling as a chair, Internet material on natural child-
birth at home - everything, except the weather, chances of rain and flooding -
so Hitler decreed we should not leave the house due to threatening weather

And I feel angry and disappointed and rebellious - so off to the library for
bibliotherapy, going to read until my eyes cannot see and my head cannot
think, as for my heart - what with the new medication I do not have real
feelings left - no waves of passion to make me fierce and determined

Accepting the status quo and Hitler's ruling as meek as a lamb, life will go
on and this too shall pass as will everything else...


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

The day has passed and reading brought no comfort, I discovered that the
Baryschnikov Nutcracker DVD had cut out the Arabian dance, I dislike
the DVD because the Sugar Plum Fairy has also been cut, the role of
Clara should have been danced by a young girl and the twirly bits given
to the Sugar Plum Fairy, the DVD lacks the pomp and ceremony and
luscious costumes - and it is raining - which is GOOD, the heat this
week has been too much for the garden - I'm dithering, what I'd like
to say is that it is time to calm down and accept this day is gone
without accomplishment...

19 January 2013

Mother is a Firebrand (REVISED)

Non-slip carpet & fold-down box doubles as
a place to sit, in blue to complement mother’s
colour scheme of room furnishings in the age
care home where she is campaigning to get
everyone doing exercises, convincing young
mothers-to-be home birth is preferable to high-
cost interventionist hospital confinement which
exposes babies to greater risks – mother is a
firebrand breaking rules

Living her own dream, infusing enthusiasm in
me for her schemes, I’m out scouting for things
mother may need, enjoying the activity, and in
between mother leads her coterie of friends to
sing, those outside the inner circle complain of
favouritism and gossiping by mother’s gang
but I know mother’s ways – anarchism and
rebellion against the status quo

And attempts to revolutionise events until a
new plan hatches; then mother will forget prior
arrangements, leave angry conspirators as
she dances (or rather wobbles) off to engage
in new fantasies – while those she left in the
lurch will soon be re-charmed by her energy
and infectious enthusiasm again

Finally Received The Nutcracker (Revised)

Finally received 'The Nutcracker' Mikhael Baryschnikov DVD,
lovely moves, dancers executing steps to perfection - but those
old-fashioned, unnatural facial expressions - my kids ran away;
A Nutcracker Prince who looks about like an idiot, Clara who
pulls her mouth awry when she should be a child experiencing
delight - wish that dancers were taught to be more natural,

No wonder Chehon and Eliana has such a hard time to keep in
the game on 'So You Think You Can Dance' - excellent  dancers
but in the bottom three at times; seems in ballet they're taught
To behave like automatons, like Marvin the paranoid Android -
it took time to defrost them - I wish that Baryschnikov and the
Prima Ballerina had been defrosted before the DVD was made,

The camera shouldn't have zoomed in on those pre-set  faces,
especially as Clara the child's face looks so strange with all the
dark eye make-up; if only she had learnt to look interesting
Like the girl Wednesday in 'The Adam's Family' - then Herr
Drosselmeyer, her magician-godfather, would have been moved
to allow her to marry the Prince, that is, if the Prince could

Emulate Sean Connery's early Bond movies face - or Indiana
Jones' mad joie de vivre - as for the inane eccentric expression
of Herr Drosselmeyer - he should have had the face of a
Hannibal Lecter - cannibal par excellence!

I Hate It!

This is why I agreed to buying meat already spiced
though I can’t eat such condimented meat, and now
I can sip a vodka without fearing the backlash – all
because trying to do things right had no effect what-
soever, I might as well give up and die right now

This is no life, not even a half-life, every zombie and
professional vampire will probably tell you their sub-
zero existence is exciting enough, fighting the living,
but I have to play the role of someone alive; therefore
able to survive and forced to translate a technical text

Which bores me to death – yet I cannot die, more’s
the pity – I HATE IT - I HATE IT - I HATE IT!

15/01/2013

Stay Awake And Pray (Revised)

Sadly drinking coffee at the edge of a volcano threatening
to burst into flames, researching strange terms one at a
time, needless to say the volcano explodes with 3 technical
documents and more terms, as I lose all courage and die in
my chair a fourth arrives

It is even longer and more vile than the previous 3, lost more
courage, threw in the towel & prayed for death - there is no
way I can do this boring work when I can't watch a favourite
programme without falling asleep, the only thing I love -
reading the words of William James, philosopher -

Losing more power as headache worsens - can't escape
my fate as I've already accepted my monthly pay - but oh,
the pain I have to go through to earn this salary, maybe it
will finally make a saint of me, though I doubt it - I am
too tired to  stay awake and pray…


15 January 2013

Diatribe Descrying All Guru’s [REVISED]

This author skeptic passionately rejected Demartini’s
breakthrough experience – it did not change a thing
for him when he attended a seminar at great cost –
then he claimed there was no help for anyone there
while ignoring evidence that other people attend
with great joy

After his dramatic on site diatribe descrying all self-
help guru’s, the author changes and sweetly invites us
read his own text on mental & money problems and how to
solve them; now my question is: If, when ALL his prede-
cessors and contemporaries are avowed frauds, then how
is it only HE is to be believed

Objections he leveled against them apply equally to HIM
because of why he finds them untrue, ‘they did not work
for him’ is just as true for me – it makes me laugh; the
sudden change in tone, cajoling, inviting readers to read
more of the same tripe based on one person’s experience

And it is always wrong to put faith in claims made by a
stranger that cannot be proved objectively, it is funny he
expects readers whom he armoured against this kind of
claim to accept him on the same shaky basis – his own
research and revelations

As these authors ridicule and reject each other it is easier
to read them for fun, enlarging the scope of imagination –
while we make up our minds on the basis of personal
experience only

Mystical Tales [REVISED]

I look at my document and the world ends, every time;
I bring it back by quickly looking away – Tunisia’s
corruption is not meant for today and I read William
James instead: mystic’s revelations hold true for
mystics only – others can consider them but have
no claim to truth without our personal experience
of such events

I agree; even a sceptic can see a right to dignity
creates peaceful society and inequality a recipe for
disaster; no need for a mystic’s revelations to provide
foundations for these principles; yet some mystical
tales are so enchanting and their claim to truth is
irrelevant, like the mystical tale of a baby
born to bring peace to the world

The tale of Buddha illuminated, Sufi Whirling Dervishes
dancing atom’s spin into a primitive world, Hindu gods
telling of many Kali ages, the Kabala’s Tree of Life; when
these lovely ideas are used to motivate more freedom and
rights for members of the human race, they fulfil a higher
ideal in a magnificent way

Nineteen Years Old

 

She is nineteen years old - is my daughter - and so superior
helping me to sort out this Blogspot, saying haughtily: Click
on HTML and you can upload pictures, mom, and in a jiffy
the problems that have beset me since last year are solved -
with just one click, she took my heartache away, my being
unable to type in this space and upload the pictures I like
- then, of of course, she stomped away looking smug and
bored in one

She makes it clear that nothing on earth can be more boring
than her doting and dithering old mum - while I see myself
quite differently - thank heaven for superior kids who help
the older generation - me - to conquer technology, I am still
flabbergasted by my new cell phone and there my son is trying
to help his old mum - while darting oiff to school wearing the
signature braces that indicates he is in the most senior year

Voyages To Undertake (Revised)

Reading Seth, looking at my work station to
determine the truth - and yes, Seth is right to
some extent - Seth says: ‘Your environment
expresses your personality'

OK, my new blue dolphin poster, a white
decorative container and the seascape next to
my computer screen express a love for the sea
and clean surfaces, I guess

Seth says: ‘Your reality is a perfect replica of
your inner wishes and expectations' - Well,
ok, my gaudy artificial flowers require no
attention in the office space and express a
childish need for an active, colourful life

Seth says: ‘This moment is a creative framework
through which you - as nonphysical entity - form
reality; through the window of this moment you
form both the future and past of your earthly
existence' - Oh dear

I'm using it to form a mausoleum-like office in
which my soul can slowly languish and die -
unless I can reach a higher level of reality
through reading and research -

Seth says: ‘True power is in the imagination which
speculates upon that which is not yet' - Well then,
let me dream some more about voyages I want to
undertake to meet my fellow dreamers, my
poet friends…

 

Rambling Monologues (Revised)

Everything I do feels off-beam, unnecessary activity,
as if the prerequisites essential for doing things right
have yet to be determined; I cannot calm down and
concentrate for work - nor explain the feeling of total
confusion

I leap from book to book, cannot find a true origin of
anything, feel as if I have got hold of the wrong end
of the universe where all really important issues have
yet to be addressed; without real beginnings formally
expressed all is lopsided and askew

My mind in a chaotic whirl with the spin increasing
still, I am restless, flustered and overcome, cannot
begin a meaningful conversation or find the right way
to end rambling monologues echoing in my head…

An Odyssey (Revision of 'Sailor On a Lonely Island')

Mind-therapy wandering, browsing in little
shops, seeing delightfully coloured roses,
delicate in pink enlivened by golden flecks;
overboard went my thrift, had to have it,
willing to give up all imitation flowers for
these - like a man upon finding a pearl
of great value sells all his other jewels to
acquire just this wonderful one

First day back at work, chafing at the bit,
sitting behind blinkers shuttering my eyes
against challenge and outside adventure,
feelings evoked by admirable deeds and
dreams, tiptoeing through a list of things
to be done, lightly scratching the surface
of messages about criminals, surfing
through music on my iPod, jumping from
song to song

Nose enchanted by the delicate new rose,
looking at emails while searching for music
to fit my mood - all becalmed, an impatient
sailor marooned on a lonely island, hoping
for a siren song to lure me on to exciting
times packed with more action and drama
than this peaceful time without meaning:
an Odyssey is what I need…

An Alien Concept

Mother impressed with physiotherapy, I recommended she
stay in Kosmos Old Age Home to complete the course, NO
mom said, I have appointments with pupils at home – I
called twin sis to organise mother’s stay

Airily sis said she was going to inform mom without pre-
amble she would stay in Kosmos longer than planned-
I sighed, sis pays and does everything for mom except 
treating her with consideration and respect - oh well

According to New Age Gurus this could only happen to
mom - having a dutiful but inconsiderate daughter - if
mom had done something to attract it, so I arranged
that mom cancel her appointments - promising

If mom stayed, my son would get acquainted with his
grandma - but for my meddling, mother and sis would
have been at loggerheads again - for them, clear
communication is an alien concept…

All You Do

I needed a miracle to make me feel better about life
then remembered that you are in my life as a writer,
asking for miracles in terms of medicine and payment
I received both, asking that everything would be all-
right at home the request was granted –

As soon as everything seemed boring again, I thought
of you, a teacher showing me how to express myself
and the feeling of joy grew stronger – therefore, I just
want to say thank you for being an excellent teacher
and wonderful human being

Being accessible as my older brother who understand
what I mean, you opened communication for me and
gave me proof that it is right to dream – thank you so
very much – I love you for all you do and mean to me!

Much More Interesting (Revised)

Wednesday 2 January 2013, the kids have a party,
my son’s room has been fixed and he has not had
time to mess it up yet, my own messy cupboard is
looming, magazines hidden in a big suitcase, you
said they had to go but I keep them until the kids
have all the pictures they need

Dirty dishes stacked, firmly fixed in the present, no
vision or hope for a new tomorrow - accepting these
moments enclosed in this space and time are to be
fully experienced – small it all is, without jumping
from reality into a dream I am aware that physical
life is very cramped

Home from a holiday means nothing has changed in
my mind, if I cannot escape there’s nothing to be
said until new term at work and documents to be
relayed from French; an only change is our aging,
finding I share aches and medications with all the
people I meet, growing old without much grace

Such is life – an experiment to stay anchored in my
own being is bearing fruit: I rediscover the need to
recreate everything in a dream where all is much
more interesting