Nodame Cantabile and Rachmaninoff (Revised)

I’m watching Nodame Cantabile, the Animé series,
with my daughter. The Japanese intrigue is strange
but music heavenly – students at music academy –
once used to the weird diction of protagonists the
story unfolds in amazing music reels

The heroine is completely insane, Nodame never
plays piano as she should, improvising on Chopin,
Mozart, practicing Rachmaninoff without stopping
to eat or wash; the male student studying piano
but dreaming of becoming a conductor, charming

Everyone with magical recitals, playing Franz Liszt,
trying to get Nodame to focus on her music as she
plays by ear instead of studying notes. Its story drew
me in and off I went, waking as the music stopped –
the old experience of falling back from dreaming

Back into an enhanced reality as I shared music with
my daughter; knowing we share a bond of taste she
invited me into the private world on her computer
and a discovery that ability to be enchanted by
wonderment never ages...

Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No.2

Friday 28 June 2013

I Wonder Why This Is So (REVISED)

Invigorated by new diet I worked like mad checking
my Airports in Africa translation – illustrated with
the right pictures, not strictly necessary but making
the script more interesting

Worked through lunch and teatime, only getting
out of my chair to do back & neck exercise, get
my meal, lentils –so bland, so healthy– drink
one cup of coffee – one terrible hot flush and I

Could work again, rushed home to discover a
wrong email forwarded; pity that pills enabling
me to work like a robot do not improve my IQ,
but at least my mood today was excellent

A joy to feel like a worthy member of society,
grounded in the moment and in communication
with my Higher Self – strange that afterwards it
does not mean as much as a day spent

In the furnace of the allergy – I wonder why
this is so…

27 June 2013

Revelation (REVISED)

Why isn’t it easy to listen to tenors’ voices on my
André Rieu DVD? It puzzled, but skipping Chianti
Lied & Nessun Dorma then listening to the Twelve
Robbers made the reason clear:

When a male choir sings softly it is wonderful
background accompaniment but on raising
voices forte to fortissimo, the noise grates on
the nerves – something happens to vibration

And pitch on going loud; the softer voice is more
controlled, sweet, velvet on a working ear like
mine – so turn the volume down. I’ve given up;
yesterday, after redoing work on two versions

Of a document, I’ve hoisted the white flag, I am
beaten, cannot fight my own stupidity while
sitting in increasing heat as air-cons are out
of order – no fresh air coming in

Eyes unfocused, only centre properly while wet
 and I am tired of spraying my eyes; today is a
victory because of the revelation why I have to
flee from loud tenors while trying to translate…


[ORIGINAL:]

It is puzzling why it is not easy to listen to tenors’
voices on my André Rieu DVD, skipping Chianti
Lied and Nessun Dorma, listening to the Twelve
Robbers made the reason clear:

When the men’s choir sings softly it is wonderful
background accompaniment but when they raise
their voices in forte to fortissimo, the noise grates
on the nerves - turn volume down

Something happens to vibration and pitch going
for loud while the softer voice is more controlled,
sweet, velvet on a working ear like mine - I have
given up, after redoing yesterday

Working on two versions of the same document, I
have hoisted the white flag, I am beat, cannot fight
my own stupidity while sitting in the increasing heat
as air-cons are out of order

No fresh air coming in, eyes unfocused, only focus
while wet and I am tired of spraying my eyes, today
is a victory because of the revelation why I have to
flee from loud tenors while trying to translate…

Wednesday 26 June 2013

Reflections 26 June 2013

The age-old question whether anything would exist if there were nobody to register
it with their five senses have been solved, as I said before, when I click on the icon
my DVD plays continuously on my computer although nobody is listening to it,
without earphones I had no idea the music was playing

The question of what to do with somebody who claims to receive communication from
invisible sources is to leave them alone because they are yodelling in their heads, alter-
nating between the chest voice and the head voice of their own Higher Self, never
follow anything that you cannot test for veracity

I follow the scripts of authors I love, the protagonist who remains true in a decadent
world, the hero who has high ideals even if he breaks these himself, the heroine who
refuses to be dictated to, the Dreamer who refuses to bow to the High Priest - these 
are my role models, human like us, but aspiring to be so much more

Reading of people doing miracles today is great, evidence that we are limited in our
own heads - yet I prefer high morals to magic, beauty without moral superiority is
not worthwhile, great beauty that endures because of its strong moral basis is a
vision worthy to aspire to

Love is the only guide by which I abide, wisdom the principle governing the 
application thereof - and justice does not exist, the nearest to an idea of
justice for me is  unconditional love…

Wednesday 26 June 2013

Paying For Insolence [REVISED]

The oats did not put me to sleep – sitting quietly makes
my head heavy but on preparing dinner made me grumpy
then paranoid – anger at first about nothing in particular
and then sounds drove me mad; I’m paying dearly for my

Insolence, oats is a source of calcium my system needs
yet eating it is tricky, I feel awful afterwards; maybe
only a little would not be so bad – now I remember why
I chose my beloved because the silence he loves so much

Soothes my frayed nerves when under an allergic spell,
even if I chafe at the bit, it is still the best place to be –
home – where silence reigns, so I run outside to sing,
declaim to the universe

24 June 2013


[ORIGINAL:]

Paying dearly for my insolence, the oats did not put me
to sleep – when sitting quietly it makes my head heavy
but while preparing dinner it simply makes me grumpy
then paranoid - first I got angry about nothing and then

Sounds drove me mad, oats is a source of calcium which
my system needs yet eating it is tricky, it makes me feel
awful; maybe eating only a little would not be so bad –
now I remember why I chose my beloved – because

The silence he loves so much soothes my frayed nerves
when under the spell of the allergy, even if I chafe at the
bit, it is still the best place to be – home - where silence
reigns so I run outside to sing & declaim to the universe

24 June 2013

Joyous Monday (REVISED)

All six lifts aren’t working, we’re sent to climb the stairs,
singing at first, at the third floor I lose my breath, climbed
at a more sedate pace, arrived on the sixth floor though
I could’ve handled many more

My puffing colleagues arrive, Hanlie laughing in hope our
Minister and 10th floor officials suffer the same fate; I
tackle an Arabic message from the Minister of the
Ministry, the Waziir from the Wizarrah, as Riima taught

Then there is no water and electricity threatens to go,
Hanlie discovers a 10th floor pipe burst flooding the lifts –
fixing is difficult, I skip down sixth floors, commiserate
happily with fellow travellers – still yodelling where

No victims can get away; all too soon we’re sent home for
safety reasons, the show’s over. At home I am silent so as
to not give offence – washed dishes in sheer exuberance,
ate a large bowl of oats for a sound sleep tonight –

What fun life is!

24 June 2013

The Sun And Velikovsky [REVISED]

Sun at its zenith, so bright a golden shine the light in
the microwave seems to be broken – only notice it’s
fine at night – the sun’s reflection on tiles, glass and
white curtains strong, hurting my eyes yet outside
dry grass looks grey in weak light – how marvellous
to see the sunlight enhanced by its golden reflection
on beautiful objects I love

Drenched in it I reread Velikovsky’s advice for a
different chronology of ancient history; why early
mythology is analogous of catastrophe, great deluges,
hurricanes – how the ancients venerated 7 planets
representing 7 ages to compel nature never to bring
cataclysms again; meteorites turn aside in our age
or are repelled into space – which suggests

Intelligent energy benignly approves evolution’s
way, life forms were enormous back then, when
earth’s gravity changed the present Age took
shape making gigantic beasts unable to move
around, Velikovsky’s theories enlarge reality
which always seems to be smothering me, I
love reading what frees imagination
 
From the intellectual chains of left-brain
rational thinking…


[ORIGINAL:]

The sun at its zenith yet his golden shine was so bright
the microwave light seemed to be broken, only tonight
it was possible to see it’s still fine, the sun’s reflection
on tiles, white curtains and glass was so strong it hurt
my eyes yet outside dry grass looked grey in the weak
light - how marvellous to see the sun enhanced by his
reflection on objects I

Sitting in the sun I reread Velikovsky’s arguments for
a different chronology of ancient history; why ancient
mythology is an analogy of cataclysms - great deluge
and hurricanes –  how the ancients venerated 7 planets
representing 7 ages to convince nature never to bring
cataclysms again; in our age meteorites turn aside or
are repelled into space which suggests

That benevolent, intelligent energy approves of the
direction evolution took, previous life forms were
enormous and when earth’s gravity changed the
present world age took shape making it impossible
for gigantic beasts to move around, Velikovsky’s
theories enlarge reality which always seems to
be smothering me, I love reading everything

That frees the imagination from the chains with
which we were all bound as kids…
 
Saturday 22 June 2013

Wide Awake And Animated [REVISED]

Wide awake and animated all day, happiness
is a Mary Poppins magic making time fly; I’m
polishing my translations for quality checking,
tackling an Arabic document, Arabian flavour

In my memory of Morning of the Goodness –
Morning of the Light: ‘Sabah alGeir - Sabah al
Nuur’, tried to sing ‘Salma ya Salaama’ with
Dalida, yet kept yodelling in the office kitchen

Contrast between Arabic pronunciation & Swiss
song is amusing & my yodelling is improving,
people fle when they see me; a colleague agreed
her clothes have to acclimatise just like mine

Hanlie danced her way through the day, June
attacked the administration, sent papers flying,
nothing better than a beehive happily occupied,
when Mimi broke into her loud monologue
 
I listened to Andre Rieu and orchestra playing
Ole Guapa, passion unleashed by music had me
gesticulating in explanation to invisible audience
how much a fictional she feels for a fictional him

The song added fuel to my zeal to accomplish
everything possible on a magical Friday while
expecting Mary Poppins to suddenly appear to
sing, yoledileDI-diyooo, yoledilediledi-YOO!


[ORIGINAL: ]

Happiness is a normal day filled with a Mary Poppins
magic, time flew, polishing my translations for quality
checking, tackled an Arabic Interpol message, wide
awake and animated from 7 to 3 in the afternoon

Arabian flavour in Morning of the Goodness - to be met
by Morning of the Light: ‘Sabah alGeir - Sabah alNuur’
played in my mind, tried to sing ‘Salma yaSalaamah’
with Dalida, yet kept yodelling in the office kitchen

Contrast between Arabic pronunciation & Swiss song
is amusing & my yodelling is improving - people flee
when they see me; a colleague agreed her clothes have
to acclimatise just like mine, only ready for wear after
 
Getting to know her well, Hanlie danced her way through
the day, June attacked the administration - papers flying,
nothing is better than a beehive happily occupied, when
Mimi broke into her loud monologue I just listened to
 
Andre Rieu and orchestra playing Ole Guapa, passion
unleashed by wonderful music had me gesticulating in
explanation to invisible audience how much a fictional
she feels for a fictional him adding fuel to my zeal

To accomplish everything possible on a magical Friday
expecting Mary Poppins to appear at any moment and
sing, yoledileDI-diyooo, yoledilediledi-YOO!

Warmth And Life [REVISED]

When small I loved my big brothers – that’s all,
loved no-one else, too unhappy in presence of the
three Parents together or taking them separately –
mom chaotically washing clothes, making me feel
anxious, grandma busy and scolding, dad shouting
and swearing, calling us naughty

My role model brothers showed me books to read,
with Ian I had a Nasturtium growing in a pot, vied
with him for the most accidents, eldest Christo busy,
fixing cars, digging the garden, building walls and
allowing me to help; Ian teaching me climb trees
and onto the roof without a ladder

My refuge their room, I read all their books; childish
adulation held for them as a child remained alive in
my heart; when my Big Brother showed me how to
write poetry my life was complete, indeed he was
my superhero; I adore those teaching new things,
the thrill still wonderful, same exhilarating joy

No need give up hero-worship in fear of feet of clay
younger siblings can keep older ones on a pedestal,
give unconditional love as their simple existence is
good enough, just like the sun’s presence is perfect
in itself and we do not expect anything else than
warmth and life


[ORIGINAL:]

I loved my big brothers when I was small, that’s all,
I did not love anyone else, feeling too unhappy in the
presence of the three grown-ups together and taking
them separately – mom chaotically washing clothes
making me feel anxious, grandma busy and scolding,
dad shouting and swearing and calling us naughty

My big brothers were role models showing me which
books to read, Ian and I each had a Nasturtium growing
in a pot and I vied with him for the most accidents, the
eldest Christo was always busy, fixing cars, digging in
the garden, allowing me to help, building walls and Ian
showed me how to climb trees and onto the roof without

Using a ladder, their room was my refuge where I played
and read all their books; the childish adulation I felt for my
brothers as a child remained alive in my heart; when my
Big Brother showed me how to write poetry, my life was
complete, he became my superhero indeed, I adore those
who teach me new things, wonderful to still feel the thrill

The same exhilarating joy, no need to give up my hero-
worship for fear of feet of clay because younger siblings
can keep older ones on a pedestal, give unconditional love
as their simple existence is good enough, just like the sun’s
presence is perfect in itself and we do not expect anything
else than warmth and life

20 JULY 2013

Sleep Like A Log (REVISED)

Granola or oats – never again in the morning; I ate the
beast lightly flavoured with brown sugar and syrup, it
put me to sleep – lovely granola, low on sodium which
insidiously leeches precious calcium, been falling asleep
sitting up straight in my chair! Indeed ‘tis unfair to have
to fight for the privilege to get something done, losing
consciousness midstride – but no more proof needed,
oats for future reference to be only a soporific –

If dying’s as terrible as a fight against waves of sleep it
is no wonder we only die once a lifetime; I hope to die
dreaming the most wonderful things, not this torrid
fight while on duty against surges of overwhelming
blackness – ashamed of my behaviour; the impossible
manoeuvring between calcium depleting food, allergy
grains and high cholesterol, the only things I’m dead
set against is salt and meat causing acid depletion &
using calcium, very bad for osteo-arthritis

But joy of joys, Lyrica (Pregabalin) accelerates my
metabolism so much all allergic effects move through
my system at speed, now I am free – pity the day is all
gone with very little done – let’s hope my hit-and-run
style of eating enables me work like a proverbial dog
to sleep like a log – I also have a pill for this too, after
a lifetime of insomnia, I’m in heaven at present!
20 June 2013

Let Me Follow The Author (REVISED)

What effect has reading on us – afterwards we are either happy or
unhappy. Some people don’t register effects – they have emotions
under control while others react like magnetised lightning rods,
their emotions open and trembling.

It’s better for me to read something positive since my emotions are
open too. After studying world views of well-known philosophers for
a university degree & reading all else afterwards, it’s much better
to read positive news about the world as my subsequent happiness
changes my world into a more positive place.

It has a positive effect to read that people realise more unconditional
love is the only way to bring about a better world, I visit every website
supporting this idea. Once my spirit is in a happy place it is easier to do
my job – translating letters of suffering and depression, people trying
to obtain benefits and advantages, whether they are entitled or not.

After another article on infinite possibility & increasing probability
of happiness – which lifts my heart so much after growing up with
a belief the earth is doomed – I am ready to tackle the letter of an
angry plaintiff airing grievances about how he was treated.

From a self-righteous tone it’s easy to glean he’s a troublemaker
& his attitude creates his destiny. So let me follow the author into
darkness of his own mind, knowing it is his unique perspective,
an illusion created; I can exit any time to visit someone else…

21 June 2013

Shine Like The Sun (REVISED)

Rearranged the white sitting room – proud of how
yellow flowers lift drabness it was clothed in as the
sun ebbs to its lowest on the horizon, a zenith which
brings such weak light the shady side of the world

looks like a black and white painting. Brought home
more flowers, placed in the corner where my white
lamp stands sentinel, saved from starkness of police
grilling by beads, spider-web festooned strings of

glistening pearl dewdrops. On a chair adorned with
its fabric lion rampant is my hat hung with a purple
scarf – then the coup de grace – silver curlicues on
transparent material placed on the armrests of

the couch – effect is total obfuscation of winter
sorrows, summer colours shining like the sun!

19 June 2013

Roaming In Empty Places

Just like noise silence has a presence too, when a
sudden sound assails my ears my life is saved by
IPod and earphones, when silence fills the open-
plan office with a sacred atmosphere and it starts
feeling like a crypt, my refuge is music in my ears
   
I listen to Heino over and over hiccupping his deeply
emotional rendition of a German folk song: ‘Was kann
das Leben Schöneres geben, wir wollen glücklich sein’
clearly a solution for my feeling of chemical depression
is to visit a pub for a Karaoke sing-a-long

With my spirit roaming in empty places without finding
a space to alight in happiness, I feel uncomfortable and
cannot see any light at the end of the tunnel of today, the
train of this day is steaming on - I don’t feel like joining
in yet have chosen to try doing my duty long ago

So on the train I am, quite rebellious and uncomfortable,
but I must accept responsibility for the choice to become
a puny human being, living in the illusion of routine as
everything keeps changing – into the same thing, over
and over, just like Heino repeating itself….

19 June 2013

In Junkers Kneipe Lyrics
Heino
In Junkers Kneipe,
Bei Bier und Pfeife,
Da saßen wir beisamm'.
Ein kühler Tropfen,
Vom besten Hopfen
Uns durch die Kehle rann.

Ja, wenn die Burschen singen
Und Klampfen klingen
Und die Mädel fallen ein.
Hei, was kann das Leben
Schöneres geben?
Wir wollen glücklich sein!

Die alten Zeiten
Vorüber gleiten
Und draußen tobt die Nacht.
Und immer wieder
Singen wir die Lieder
Die uns so froh gemacht.

Ja, wenn die Burschen singen
Und Klampfen klingen
Und die Mädel fallen ein.
Hei, was kann das Leben
Schöneres geben?
Wir wollen glücklich sein!

Es ist so spät schon,
Der Wirt, der schläft schon,
Das Bier wird langsam schal.
Doch eh' wir gehen
Zum Schlaf uns legen,
Da singen wir nochmal.

Ja, wenn die Burschen singen
Und Klampfen klingen
Und die Mädel fallen ein.
Hei, was kann das Leben
Schöneres geben?
Wir wollen glücklich sein!

And So IS She...

Mother sighs, every other sentence is left to
hang in the air, tone of voice says it all, sigh,
she has no car to drive herself anywhere, she
lost independence; house, cars and furniture
were taken from her, commencing a pity party
and I’ll have none of it

But it was your own choice, mother, you gave all
away, you said you were meant for higher things,
Mother sighs, Yes, God wants me to be here - oh,
to be in possession of everything again, family all
around me paying homage - God called you, you
said - I remind her - He never told you to

Work for a pension or give your attention solely to
your children, you have many friends, how privileged
you are, bed made, washing done and meals prepared,
how could you do it living on your own… mother sighs
Yes, I belong here, but oh, for what I lost – she looks at
me, eyes narrowed, mouth pulling down –

I have never seen this expression on her face; she might
be trying emotional blackmail to win my sympathy for
her fate being without a home of her own – yet I believe
we are all responsible for our choices - and so is she…

19 June 2013

Repeating Myself (REVISED)

An oatmeal-wholegrain regime isn’t
working, rusks affect my hearing and
thinking – I can’t perceive anything
properly, behaviour deteriorates with
me repeating myself on my favourite
subjects instead of moving on

I don’t know if it affects my writing –
readers have a choice to leave if it
bores and not offend me, it’s only the
family who are caught in this web
of noise I make when wheat turns
me into an inconsiderate slob; as for

Sound caught on paper, representing
a voice making such an infernal noise
when allowed to escape so it must be
controlled – sweet silence is the rule –
ah, so be it, at least I can write as much
as I like, repeating myself ad infinitum...

16 June 2013

Great Expectations – hah! (REVISED)

It is cold, I climbed into bed with great expectations after taking
the pill that makes me sleep, warm blankets, my beloved snoring
but I’m so awake, I can’t even close my eyes! Wholegrain rusks
take revenge; calcium in wholegrain products I read, decided to
add to my diet – proud of my decision to strengthen bones; now
an allergic reaction makes sleep impossible.
 
Miserable evening, chemical depression blurring everything, I
can only read a few pages in Maskerade by Pratchett, eyes sore
& vague headache – a disappointing, wasted Friday night and
unable to sleep. I’ll make amends in next evening’s meditation,
think of everybody I love since I skimped tonight to get into bed
as fast as I could.
 
But the headache’s still there, the only solution is to read again,
resting my eyes in between. Sitting is uncomfortable tho’ better
than trying to lie down – my back’s as stiff as a rod after doing
prescribed exercises. How to cut wholegrain off my diet when
meat is dangerous, acid produced literally dissolves bones –
while subsisting on vegetables alone is not to my taste
 
Is there a choice? My guru’s advice is to think of things we love
to feel better, it doesn’t abate a headache growing from vague to
definite; I’m bored, nothing’s interesting, can’t write a worthy
thing & TV boring. Alcohol & sugar are banned – but maybe
I should drink enough to lift mood, arrange euthanasia when
the calcium in my bones has been dissolved.
 
With a choice between strong bones or depression I’ll have to
choose feeling happy, commit harakiri when my bones pulp
because calcium & vitamins D and K have been destroyed!

14 June 2013

Practicing My Yodelling

Practicing my yodelling on the stairs
the stairwell has a lovely resonance
walking up and down is great exercise
but going up I’ve got to stop to catch
my breath, the last stairwell to ground
floor is deserted as it ends in a locked
steel door to keep criminals out, there
an air con unit sounds like an aeroplane
rising into the air, I yodelled long and
loud to my heart’s content; surprised a
colleague asked why I wanted to yodel
and it made me realise how much joy
singing gives me; those who do not care
for it cannot understand the joy when
one’s voice is vibrating and sweet music*
fills the space carrying my soul with it…

* Sweet music - I hope….

14 June 2013

That Boundless Passion (Revised)

Mother complains of headache and flu
in the old-age home, sign she is bored,
no tests, crises, or intrigues to attend ;
I remember her hating boredom, she
left usual tasks undone, beds unmade
kitchen in a terrible state, taking us to
visit a friend instead

Dad and grandma returned to find an
empty house in chaos; on our return
mother charmed them playing piano;
ten years ago mother was paralysed
in bed, a friend called, inviting her on
a trip – she jumped up, roaring to go,
carrying her own bag downstairs

Moments before Sister had served her
in bed; depression’s the same with me,
overwhelming flu taking hold until an
interest ignites new passion, cured in
an instant I move like lightning – I wish
it was possible to help mother conquer
inability to deal with fear of boredom

If only she could find a victim in distress
to care for, helping others always makes
her feel cheerful, if only someone would
provide a focus for all that boundless
passion I inherited from her…

13 June 2013

Wondering Expression (Version 2)

Loved my parents for their storytelling, dad with
a bedtime story  - a special stone block that was
removed to steal a king’s treasure - thus robbers
could bankrupt him; I recall the thrill of hearing

This strange tale for the first time - mother told
about Tom Thumb, his dad made matchstick toys
while his mother made clothes from rose petals
and moon fairies slid down moonbeams to earth

While mom sang lullabies - dad is poetry to me -
long ballads exploding in a staccato gunfire style,
mom playing Bocherini & The Moonlight Sonata,
slow melodies evoking deep feeling – but I lacked

Affection for my twin sis who insisted on rebellion,
calling down everyone’s wrath on everything we did
while I desperately tried to melt into the background –
wide-eyed wonder on hearing Verna Vels telling of

The Dear Little Witch being confused, never left me
as attested to by my paper doll with her wondering
expression standing next to my bed…

14 June 2013

Verna Vels – Liewe Heksie

On Pedestals (Revised)

I reserve a special place for the admiration felt
for my big brothers when small, the only older
children I knew they seemed like gods on earth;
when they played with us toddlers it was as if the
sun came out, when they recounted tales of their
adventures my admiration  knew no bounds

Today I am glad I learned what such high feeling
is before tackling the world; an absolute love and
sisterly admiration nothing can stop, whenever it
wells up and floods my being with that wonderful
emotion I enjoy it unconditionally, though it may
at times irritate my elder siblings

It’s a privilege for me to offer sisterly affection, to
keep them on pedestals, a feeling more precious
than any fallibility of purest faith, I love untainted
admiration which makes me see rainbows, feel
warmth inside for no other reason than knowing
they are alive and mine to love!

13 June 2013

A Torrent Of Love (Revised)

We all love the feeling of LOVE, I adore everything
that evokes that feeling in me, the warmth of delight
the experience of rising into the air to look down
upon ants unable to share this ecstasy

The passion when something unleashes a torrent
of approval within us, an energetic change to our
consciousness, a heightened awareness of the
world and self, a sudden brilliance in sunlight

This emotional upheaval is precious and I guard it
with my life, returning to it in my mind though the
people inspiring it are long gone; I trust I shall
meet them again in the non-physical dimensions

Where my spirit shall continue its existence after
death, I hope to meet my favourite authors and
the special men who made me feel honoured to
be alive, I want to thank them, everyone – to

Hold them in this symbolic embrace, kiss noble
visages that filled my heart with hope when the
world offered none – thank you to all those who
cared enough to show what they felt, who

Shared a moment in time with me; your loving
regard filled my cup, succoured me in storms
threatening despair of lonely isolation – I still
feel your eyes, still cherish the stolen kiss…
 
13 June 2013

Relaxing Into The Dream (Revised)

Washing dishes, worrying about tomorrow,
long lines putting my mind to sleep leaving
me weak, deciding to ignore it, not keeping
score how often I’ve failed to excel in doing
a job without any passionate involvement 

Following my guru’s advice to fantasise my mind
into a state of positive expectation; feeling warmth
of contentment in my son’s smile & my beloved’s
attempts to improve life and dreaming of treating
people with new ideas that will make them forget

Their own sorrows like I’m forgetting mine devising
events to bring wonderment into their lives, reviving
the joy of discovering Lyall Watson’s Supernature,
the Multiverse of Quantum Physics and Seth of Jane
Roberts explaining we create our own universe

Relaxing into the dream, each moment as warm as
sweetened coffee and happy, wondering smiles as
innocent as a touch of soft eyes caressing my lips
in a glowing world – oh, this is SO much better
than worrying about tomorrow – thank heaven

For imagination, without it I would rather die….

12 June 2013

What Does True Freedom Look Like?

Feeling depressed I consulted my guru and he says
‘No matter what I do or where I go, I shall look for
things I like best’ – but looking at the routine work
on my desk makes me angry - only work without
interest - this is not what I want to see at all!

I want to see obstacles and challenges - just like
Sherlock Holmes who openly confessed he could
not stand a hum-drum existence, he only really felt
alive when deciphering clues or hot on the heels
of a criminal or two – the rest of the time he left

The world to itself and smoked his pipe, waiting
for the next big thing - it sounds impractical, but
what the heck - being human is very impractical,
every-thing we like is detrimental and guilty
pleasures like chocolate make our teeth rot –

What does true freedom look like? – I bet few
people know, only those who spent years locked
up in dungeons and made rats into pets – because
they have no craving for fattening chocolate and
have forgotten what temptation looks like…

12 June 2013

Thank You For That (Revised)

To work so hard for such little return is amazing,
inspecting each letter to ascertain whether it is a
tiny container with a dew drop suspended or a
flower or a fairy lamp, comparing each with the
Arabic letters in Ariel - whether a hamza on top
or beneath, an alef beginning or end

Then produce a translation without individual
identification; personal names become gibberish
through Google Translate, but I found Abdullah
and Mohamed – proving my system works, all we
can tell in the end is it concerns a red notice –
but I had a challenge and time flew, stopping

Only when eyes unfocused or frustration made
me seek food – these are happy times in my life,
solving a riddle, finding missing information
while playing with beautiful Arabian letters - and
its why I love you too – you represent a riddle,
questions met with more mystery

Answers I don’t understand – I am so glad you
are inscrutable, that the secrets you hide – maybe
quite guilelessly, maybe not – cannot be discovered
in a one-day wonder of questions and answers – you,
like Arabic, keep my life filled with challenge and
excitement – thank you for that…

Tuesday 11 June 2013

Connected To Everything (REVISED)

‘The World is dead, only humans are conscious
or self-aware’; the idea made me feel so lonely,
commiserating with a mindless existence for all
other things – I cried over repetitive cycles of
mating and dying, the meaningless ‘being’ in
an unfeeling universe, then found spiritualism
 
Where all particles of everything have degrees
of awareness, purpose of life is to strive against
non-existence, all forms of being delight in form
change, moving to solar rhythms – quantum
physics provides explanations that save us
from Western materialism, a view changing
 
The whole world; I feel connected to everything –
no-longer a ghost in a machine, each particle is
alive like me and the basis of a physical world is
consciousness created by intelligent, benevolent
energy rejoicing in each creation. We’re free to
experiment with all possibilities, an unlimited
 
Range of imagination, our choices change the
World as it evolves according to our ideas – a
release from materialism’s static sadness, a
freedom knowing that life is infinite possibility
and not as was predicted to be a lonely ghost
in Descartes’ dualistic machine!
 
Sunday 9 June 2013

http://www.scaruffi.com/science/qc.html

Physicist Nick Herbert depicts consciousness as an all-
 pervasive process in nature; mind as fundamental com-
ponent, like elementary forces and particles - of the
universe - mind shares 3 features with quantum theory:

1. randomness
2. thinglessness - objects acquire attributes only
        once they are observed
3. interconnectedness - once 2 particles have
    interacted, they remain connected

Nick Herbert says three features of inert matter account for
mind’s three basic features:

1. free will
2. essential ambiguity
3. psychic connectedness

Therefore scientists underestimate the quantity of consciousness
in the universe

Computer scientist James Culbertson speculates consciousness
may be a relativistic feature of spacetime and may permeate all
of nature, so EVERY OBJECT has a degree of consciousness

So Many Good Things

The weekend was perfect until I dared – and
oh, HOW I dared – to lend my credit card to
Nici my daughter – whom, mind you, I’d
trust with my life

You were angry and mean, and afterwards
didn’t think to apologise as it was RIGHT –
lecturing me on never loaning my credit
card and teaching my kids as much

I corrupted Nici utterly, I see it’s been the
ruin of your life & kids; I’ll spend the rest
of my days in mourning for everything I’ve
taken from them – or deprived them of

Like my working when I should have been
playing with them when they were small and
impressionable – I plead Guilty your Honour
to every accusation made against me

But let me add – I’ve been trying my best and
so have they, to keep you in a good mood –
because if a benevolent dictator is of a positive
disposition – so many good things get done…

8 June 2013

Friday Afternoon Anecdote (REVISED)

I wander into the kitchen to find you busy with
soup, wonderful soup, we should dance a soup
quadrille as the crying Mock Turtle stated in
Alice in Wonderland – but I brought home
work and don’t want to start just yet … thus

Like a cross between Henry VIII and Hamlet,
an effect of grey leggings and my all-purpose
black camp top while being short – Henry VIII
is me; filled with enthusiasm for a few Arabic
lines to be translated into English, each letter

Scrutinised to determine in which of its forms
five each appears, every expression like ‘ter
marbutha’ carefully analysed and finding
the ‘m’ the easiest letter to recognise, I’ll
adjourn in a Friday afternoon anecdote

8 June 2013 Friday Afternoon Anecdote

Feast On Each Other’s Flesh (REVISION)

Angola’s people live in shanty towns without clean water
and mothers and children suffer while natural resources
needed to fight poverty and unemployment are stolen by
the rich to be avariciously squandered for personal gain

Forbes magazine notes Africa's first woman billionaire –
worth $2-billion, as Isabel dos Santos, daughter of Angola's
leader; African politicians keep begging for international
aid while feasting on the flesh of their countrymen

Laughing disdainfully because donations further enrich
themselves while small percentages, if any, reach the
civilians who’ll be likely fodder for another civil war as
soon as politicians loose the plot, becoming even more

Gluttonously greedy – insane enough to start fighting
one another to feast on each other’s flesh …

**************************
Angola - $750-million missing from treasury in a debt repayment
deal with Russia facilitated by a Swiss bank and a shell company
$263-million --------------for Russian and French arms dealers
$36-million ----------------for President José Eduardo dos Santos
$400-million went into deals between bankers and shell companies

$40-billion from oil production 2011 enriches a small group around
Angola’s President, the population is living below the poverty line;
the missing $750- million was meant for Russia in repayment of a
1.5-billion debt which had originally been obtained by promissory
notes on oil shipments but which had been appropriated by shell
companies, $36 went to front companies through the President

This Angola-Russia deal shows the EU Parliament how money is
siphoned off to criminals, more than $50-billion a year transferred
from Africa where it should be used to construct infrastructure as
the need is high, yet it is a terrible fact:

African countries lose THREE times more money to tax havens
………………than they receive in aid…………………….

mg.co.za/‎
The Mail & Guardian Online South Africa's oldest quality
news source on the ... Some $750-million is missing from
Angola's treasury from a debt repayment deal ......

http://www.cw-uk.org/angola-russia-report/

“The deal with Russia was facilitated by a Swiss bank and a
shell company registered in Britain's Isle of Man. Russian
and French arms dealers got away with $263-million, Angola's
President José Eduardo dos Santos reportedly stashed away
more than $36-million, and another $400-million is unaccounted
for, according to Corruption Watch UK and Angola's Clean
Hands association of human rights lawyers. The Angolan exposé
is the latest of a slew of reports on corruption, its cost to
development, and how it is aided by bankers and shell
companies that keep secret the identities of owners.”

5 July 2013

ALL The Above (REVISED)

To seek pleasure I ate everything I love – in following
my guru’s advice I have a hard-as-nails headache &
a desire to hibernate – but I’m NOT a bear, cannot
slink into a cave for a season’s sleep – another

Favourite fantasy that gives me pleasure; I should
find a desire for feeling thin and athletic, writing
down the ideas in my head that might vanish like
chimeras if their existence  is not honoured by

Clear expression; right now after non-stop munching
to fulfil my desire for pleasure discomfort is teaching
me to value the straight and narrow ascetic path in
order to do my work, to stop dreaming

Of being somebody else living a different life – Tiffany
Case in James Bond’s Diamonds Are Forever or Tiffany
Aiching in Terry Pratchett’s  Diskworld series or
Anastasia Krupnik in Lois Lowry’s books

Definitely not me, a covert deep-sea diver, mermaid
mother whose merman son swept her along with him
during excursions to our underwater kingdom diving
in Cape Vidal – okay; definitely being ME since

Being me – by default – entails ALL the above!
5 June 2013

Unseen Magic (REVISED)

Beat the drum of truth the way you want it to be and
you’ll feel good immediately. Influenced by my guru’s
inspiring words, I buy as many chocolates and wafers
as I can find, return to the office to chew and suck on
them in the best frame of mind – thus this is truth the
way I want it to be

A Chinese shop across the street and artificial flowers
calling me – I cannot make up my mind which to take;
this frugal attitude is amply rewarded by scrumptious
chocolate spread; as soon as I am seated the feast
begins – beating the drum, beating the drum of truth
as I want it to be

This I can do with impunity as happiness works its
unseen magic to leave me pain-free after eating –
so beating the drum of the truth as I want it to be!

4 June 2013

Thoughts Soar Free (REVISED)

Routine messages, ever-increasing headache;
you say your friend suffers cancer pain in the
brain – I think about alleviating things, music,
funny films, books ready if it worsens – works
for me when the allergy causes such pain I
cannot think

Watching my favourite movie, reading a book
I remember from childhood, laughing out loud,
a stimulating subject lifts the pain – amazingly,
thinking of ideas for your friend my headache
eases, suddenly I’m safe in the cathedral
of my mind where thoughts soar free

A quiet happiness suffuses my being; so your
friend’s suffering gave me opportunity to offer
solutions, her illness already serves an un-
expected  purpose – if she thinks about pain’s
advantages, she might find such too, just like
I did thinking about the allergy

Realising without it I would never have tried to
write, translating other people’s words would
have been quite enough

For Ronel Oreilly and her friend Rina Marx

4 July 2013

A Fir Tree Cathedral (REVISED)

Home after work, License To Kill on TV, daily James
Bond showing eases my feelings – 007 always in the
background; I made a mess of today, after watching
fishes in the sea, staying in a log cabin under fir trees
sighing, walking in sacred silence to the beach under
this tall green canopy – living in a tree cathedral for
the weekend

Tried to forget the beauty, concentrate on routines,
heartbroken - returning to intolerable documents
after glimpsing heaven beyond my ability, suffering
upon leaving perfect marvels, returning to boredom,
impossible to remain calm; if only I could be a secret
agent like Bond and bureaucracy a façade to simply
hide my true ability - but I had to be impassively

Ensconced behind my desk helpfully doing my best,
yet except for making a list I accomplished nothing
because the wonderful visit to a wild-life sanctuary
bordering the seaside still holds my heart in thrall;
I cannot see anything around me…

Monday 3 June 2013