Giving Praise [REV.]

Cut my index finger preparing a glitzy scarf for
Friday 5 September ‘bling-bling’ day at work; a
great project - wrong time - never do this while
watching a fantasy film on the side, of wizards
floating in soap bubbles flanked by crystals of
emerald and neon leaves

I wielded my pair of scissors just as a wicked
witch deceived her people, seeing the big hats
gave me ideas how to decorate my own hat in
sequins but with bright-red blood everywhere
preparation came to a stop as a burning pain
took centre-stage, finally used the plaster kept

In my cupboard for an age; - typing had blood
flowing again: the queen of Oz wouldn't reveal
the wizard’s weakness to keep hope alive and I
realise every weak pawn can be used to greater
effect if we’re willing to employ anything without
questioning, as long as we sacrifice pride

And self-righteousness - while refusing to be
judgmental, we can change the world and see
hope fulfilled, giving praise long before it has
been earned - here’s hoping these lessons
learned shall be applied in my life and no
more cutting myself with scissors or knife

Only Thank Annette

She is sweet - most importantly, honest to the
core, never false, always herself, it is a joy to
have her around, she adds value to everything
she does – even read a verse for my daughter 
and helped to make it flow – I can ask her any-
thing and trust her with everything, she is such
a controlled human being, knows exactly what
she wants, a privilege to finally have her as a
colleague, when she edits she is unassuming
yet makes it better and I love it, never superior

Always explains and the improvement is there
to see; I can only thank Annette, she’s a gem
when I needed help with practical packing she
solved the conundrum and when translation in-
to Afrikaans was a problem, she touched it so
lightly with magic and added scanned pages
so the client could read the whole document
in one go – what joy to live in such a world –
where one person brings down the moon, sun
and stars just by their presence!

[28 August 2014]

Sing Into The Wind

Did everything right yesterday, I thought, went
home and prepared mountains of vegetables,
green runner beans, sweet potato, carrots and
plain potatoes - NO ice-cream, no treats, just
the bare essentials and look at the result –

Tired at work, dispirited, all the Bombay curry
back in full force to torture me, fatigue and
chemical depression, and the inimitable wire
stiffening around my head, stifling – although
I have not eaten allergy foods, finally drank

Hot chocolate and mega-coffee, having landed
in molasses and sinking I might just as well stay
here, suffering to breathe and cannot see, vision
completely unfocused, my only hope is to sing
on my way home, sing the discomfort away and

Float on a dream, only great thoughts and mighty
visions can prevent me from falling into a mael-
strom of pain and regret – so let me prepare my
song, let me practice under my breath in the open
plan office, let me sing into the wind…

Waxing Grandiloquent [REV.]

Asked at last to give an account of the course
we attended, a privilege explained in grandiose
terms waxing grandiloquent how it seemed that
magical knowledge was imparted to us, i.e. one
had to read a text at least seven times before
moving on, using a different set of criteria each
time to catch and correct each mistake, study
the vocabulary and punctuation painstakingly

When handing this in I thought I had brought
honour to all the lecturers - until I read my final
text, already scanned and sent to HR spies to
check whether we had really been there - but
to my chagrin, irony & sense of the ridiculous
found I’d made the very mistakes my polemic
on editing warned against, wrote translating
from French “of” German, Instead of “or” -

Senseless - and checking my own “word” in-
stead of “work”; nothing came of the plan to
check lines seven times, didn’t even check it
once, at least Thokozile & I had a good laugh
discovering it and the girls in the lift nearly a
had fit about the absurdity when I recounted
this event, thus we cashed in on stupidity to
bring fun and sunshine into our existence

Hoping HR spies will have time to share our
mirth once they spot discrepancies between
high ideals so bravely stated and cold reality…

Gorgon Hair [REV.]

If after Bombay Lamb Curry I feel bad & seem
to project my worst limitations onto others it’s
because a dish with full-cream Greek yoghurt
is one to die for - afterwards I do die a little bit
& then think people around me are suddenly
nasty; my hardworking colleague becomes a
threatening Gorgon, her hair made of snakes
ready to turn me to stone, and as I solidify, I
forget its the allergy busy stiffening my spine

Until my chair turns into a torture machine and
my bed a lava-flow smothering me when I try to
sleep; my sunny colleague acts a beauty queen
ready to accord me everlasting torture in being
so dense; when suffering such allergy I am the
stupidest creature alive, becoming a snapping
crocodile but hide the fact by pulling a tortoise
trick, retracting head into my shell, not moving
out into the sun where evil trolls & dangerous

animals lurk, where I wish I were a human being
instead of a crocodile


[ORIGINAL:]

Gorgon With Hair Threatening
I always try to project my shortcomings on others,
when I feel bad after eating Bombay Lamb Curry
with full cream Greek yoghurt – a dish to die for –
and I do - die a little bit afterwards and then think
people around me suddenly turned nasty & my best
hardworking colleague turns into a Gorgon with
hair threatening me like so many snakes ready to
turn me into stone, and as I turn to stone, I forget
that it is the allergy at work stiffening my spine

until my chair turns into a torture machine and my
bed turns into a lava-formed rock smothering me
when I try to go to sleep, my sunny colleague
becomes a beautiful queen ready to condemn me
to everlasting torture for being so dense, and when
suffering allergy I’m the stupidest creature alive,
I turn into a snapping crocodile but hide the fact
by pulling a tortoise trick – pulling my head into
my shell and not moving out into the sun where

evil trolls and dangerous animals lurk – and I wish
that I were a human being instead of a crocodile...

Collicks Schmollicks

Guess who’s been to an HR
meeting- yours truly ME! Oh
HR meeting delight, I rejoice
with might - AH!

This is what I learned: key word is
cascading objectives, an APP out-
come you see, in totality with the
activity and responsibility, reporting
quarterly, treasury & measurability

Inventory and Presidency, dependency
and awarding bursaries timeously for
the best probability and a straight line
from A to B – basically ultimately over-
see the continuity to prevent such

Delinquency, underpromising, over-
achieving, August thirty-first; hunger,
chocolate – collicks schmollicks!

[26 August 2014]

Broken Clay Pots [REV.

Our wonderful ANC Government has
made it impossible to employ anyone;
unskilled labour’s minimum wage has
remuneration demands set higher than
the work is worth - employees can’t be
fired for dishonesty or truancy, enjoying 
protection of labour laws & trade unions
industries rather opt to use machines &
computers; potential workers represent
all risk & liability to possible employers

No more teachers colleges means bad
teaching drags the whole public school
system down with 35 % pass rate, thus
pupils are unskilled in reading & writing
not even being another brick in the wall
but just broken clay pots, the high price
of their useless presence assures them
of false worth and total unemployment; 
& justice is done - arrogant employers
are punished in advance for having the

Audacity to offer demeaning work, now
a user-friendly machine easily replaces
an inaccessible work force, the masses
depend on social grants for survival; we
rejoice as the Chinese bring their strict
work ethic to Africa, learning Chinese is
everything in our post-colonial continent
marked by lack of consensus on which
indigenous language should become the
new lingua franca to replace the hated

English and French, we prefer Chinese
ideograms; luckily all African languages
will be equally disadvantaged & as if by
magic colonial languages will be gone -
hooray for the new Chinese motherland:
Chinese Communist Republic of Africa!

[25 August 2014]

Saving Translations Electronically [REV.]

Watching smudged eyebrow-lines sinking lower
below my eyes - a sultry ‘Marlene Dietrich’ look
given my painted lips; I love lipstick, a thing that
makes unkempt-me look almost well-groomed, &
commending my Capricorn colleague, remarking
upon her genuine kindness - she helped a guy in
a wheelchair so enthusiastically a wheel drove
over my foot - it is a warning any desire to serve
can also be effectively deadly

Seeking Hermien's advice, she knows everything
about study help for my son, & making notes, now
I’m confined to Constitutional Development Text on
record access - should I opt for Escapism of swift
chocolate death - or save the precious cacao for
tomorrow? Though I LOVE being in an office with
neon cloths draped over air-con, hats, pink scarves,
flowers & beads almost burying books, thankfully
no-one berates me for this obvious mess

Planning to clear it one day, become an uncluttered
me who will effortlessly produce lines of Officialese
without existential questions regarding meaning of
life intruding to confuse me as to reasons for being
on earth; only when my words or actions help the
person in front of me is life meaningful - sitting here
translating for nasty people who, with evil intent, will
scrutinise legal documents attempting to take their
neighbours to court or harass hapless translators

Over words they disapprove, isn’t uplifting; I lose
interest - only chocolate can induce my poor alien
brain’s serotonin secretion to make me feel happy
& still focus - yet images of rigid officials seated in
rows relaying words or even worse, looking for new
terminology, recalls my state opera where all read
newspapers in unison - then jump on their desks
and dance the Macarena with owlish glasses and
old-fashioned clothes, pale from lack of sunshine

Desperately trying to convince this uncaring world
we have a purpose; knowing that outsiders think
government servants are the most boring species,
hah, but not me, my smudged eyes recreating the
New Goth look’s proof there’s a fire burning in me
no amount of administration can quench - even
though I mastered the art of saving translations
electronically!


[ORIGINAL:]
 Watching smudging eyebrow lines sinking lower
below my eyes for a sultry Marlene Dietrich look
given my painted lips - I love lipstick, a thing that
makes unkempt me look almost well-groomed &
congratulating my Capricorn colleague remarking
upon her genuine kindness – she helped a guy in
a wheelchair so enthusiastically I was in the way
and a wheel drove over my foot, a warning that
such desire to serve can be deadly also

Getting advice from Hermien who knows everything
about study help for my son, after making notes I’m
confined to a Constitutional Development Text about
record access - should I opt for Escapism in a swift
chocolate death - or should the precious chocolate
be kept for tomorrow? - Though I LOVE being in the
office with neon cloths draped over the air-con; hats,
pink scarves, flowers and beads almost burying the
books – thankful no-one berates me for this mess

Planning to clear all this one day and becoming an
uncluttered me who will produce lines of Officialese
effortless, without existential questions regarding the
meaning of life intruding to confuse me as to reasons
for being on earth; only when my words or actions are
helping the person in front of me life is meaningful –
sitting here translating for nasty people with evil intent
who will scrutinise legal documents attempting to take
their neighbours to court or perhaps harass hapless
translators for using words they disapprove of, isn’t

Uplifting; I lose interest  - only chocolate can induce
my poor alien brain to secrete serotonin to make me
feel happy and concentrate regardless - yet images
of rigid officials sitting in rows relaying words or even
worse; looking for new terminology, recalls my state
opera where all read newspapers in unison then we
jump up on our desks and dance the Macarena with
owlish glasses and old-fashioned clothes, pale from
lack of sunshine and desperately trying to convince
an uncaring world we have a purpose; knowing that

Outsiders think government servants are the most
boring species, hah- but not me, my smudged eyes
recreating the New Goth look is proof there is a fire
burning in me that no amount of administration can
quench - even though I mastered the art of saving
translations electronically!

Floopily Flolloping And Flirruping

I think tonight I'll die from overeating – cardboard-dry rice cakes, apples and
ice-cream - I think my stomach is going to press up into my throat and strangle
me in revenge for my stuffing so much food down my throat.
 
I think I must have been a goose in a former or consecutive (according to Seth,
Jane Roberts) reincarnational life – because I can't stop stuffing myself as if
getting ready to produce high quality foie gras and as I'm typing this, my
eyes are darting everywhere, trying to locate more things to eat.
 
Martin is watching rugby, swearing violently as his team is losing and Tiaan
is studying in his beautiful bedroom: I put a zenith blue blanket on his bed
and a cream and orange cloth on his desk to stop the wooden table-top  
from gathering so much dust - now the material absorbs the dust.
 
So my cup is full - literally and figuratively. I'm floopily flolloping and flirruping,
globbering, glurrying and willowying in synchronisation with the matress in
Douglas Adam's “Life, The Universe And Everything”... as Marvin is explaining
his despondent feelings with lugubrious mien.
 
Oh cyberstructured hyperbridges, may my hyperappetite be satisfied and
other things take my mind away from Marvin's dejected moments of futility.
 
G'night from a flurbled and vollued Pretoria...
 
[Diary Notes Saturday 23 August 2014]

Storeybrook For Lunch

It was Storeybrook for lunch today - alfresco in the 
restaurant, a muster of the Woodford troop whose 
wants on food and friendship choose its magic site 
because its right - we’ve been in quandary since a 
little bird confessed it irked her that its owners had 
to go; they’re friends, and friends of friends who’d 
earned a special place within the clique that make 
this place a special scene to sit and talk and eat 

And so we thanked dear John and Kay - who’ll be 
departing in three weeks for memories we’ll warm 
and wear content in gracious ease - there’ll never 
a pair of hosts like them again; - our repartee was 
lightly spiced suggesting fine regret we’ll have to 
bear - until we see them rested ever comfortably 

© 22 August 2014, I. D. Carswell

Forever My Friend [REV.]

Finally time to order my thoughts - I want to focus
on Tara, listen to her voice flowing in verse which
impresses beautifully as tonal harmony in rhythmic
melody so pure it caresses my ears - until now I’d
never believed how sweet such lines could be

Tho’ she's ill and quiet her voice - in sending SMS
messages an inner fount of joyousness makes her
words ring inspiring me still, reaching my heart with
her sincere, emotional touch; Tara's beauty shines
out of her mind brilliantly - I can feel her genius

Stirring my soul and I know she will write delightful
verses again, I visualise a golden light of love and
devotion making her feel strong & loved; I want to 
to convey admiration for her special talent which
as once manifest in her beautiful mind, will exist

Forever, the songs she sings in her passionate
abandonment to living dangerously, expressing
the feeling of joie de vivre in tumultuous lines &
with enduring wit as she nurtures her gift and
crafts the most incredible poems - will shine

Eternally: Dear poetess and mischievous friend,
I’ll always cherish your friendship & amity; when
we get together we shall enjoy talking each other
to death, rejoice in this wonderful world - which
gave birth to the inimitable, irrepressible 

Unique and sparkling Tara, forever my friend…

[ORIGINAL:]

My Friend Forever

Finally time to order my thoughts - I want to focus
on Tara to listen to her voice flowing in verse, how
impressed I was as the sound flowed into a rhythmic
melody so pure, it caressed my ears, I could scarcely
believe how sweet such amazing lines could be

Now she's ill, her voice is quiet - yet when she sends
a text message her inner fountain of joyous power still
makes her words ring - inspiring me and making my
heart sing with sincere emotion - my friend's beauty
shines in her brilliant mind and I can feel her genius

Stirring my soul, convinced Tara will write delightful
verses again, visualising the golden light of love &
devotion making her feel loved and strong, wishing
to convey my admiration for her special talent which
will exist forever once having manifested in her

Beautiful mind, I shall hear the pure notes she will emit
for all eternity; enjoying the sweet, simple delight of her
childlike abandon to the wonder of life, her bubbling wit
which will endure forever as she has nurtured her gift and
crafted some of the most startling poems I ever

Had the privilege to read - to Tara the dearest poetess
and mischievous friend: I shall always cherish your
friendship and when we get together, enjoy talking
each other to death - giddy about the marvels of life
in this wonderful world - which gave birth to the

Unique and darling Tara, my friend forever…

You Are Made Of Fizz

Dear Tara, William James is a treat, combining philosophy

which I love, with psychology which I hate, and theology, a

suspicious subject, and coming up with Pragmatism - with
 

this straightforward strategy I can get on.

Quantum physics shows that it is the power of our belief which

makes things true and gives form to the jellylike substance of

potential reality – waiting for us to fill it with meaning.

This is how I know prayer is fulfilled – not because of a Jupiter

in a statue-like pose, but the magnetic focus leading us to the

things we love to define and analyse.

My desire is to escape from the terrible self-flagellation for being

incapable of producing the kind of acceptable work that will prove

me normal and not Quasimodo, the hunchback of Notre Dame.

And I wish for a MIRACLE for you; that you get well and we can

have fun because you were born with a fountain of joy in you and

illness made joy seem to fly away – but that fountain of joy is with-

in you and will well up every time you relax in contentment.

There is a sparkle in you, a shimmering and sizzling – and this will

never go away. YOU are MADE of fizz, sizzle, popping bubbles and

razzmatazz - walking on the clouds is what you do and the clouds are

waiting for you – now you’re lounging about - yet the clouds will

always be there for you to bestride as soon as joy lifts you again!

Brilliant Story-Telling Ability [REVISED]

Acronyms: - Wonder Of The Modern Age [WOTMA, a
new one] and Bane Of My Life [BOML]; for those who
love acronyms this might sound like a bomb-shell but
looking up endless overlapping pseudo-words which
camouflage full terms concerned worsens blood sugar
lows bringing about a delusional state - so therefore
hallucinations are not far-off - I stare at acronym ASF
bemused - finding variations enough to confuse the
staunchest, most dedicated disciples of ubiquitous
and multipurpose acronym use

Astronaut Scholarship Foundation sounds esoteric -
like a Sitchin account of the splitting of Tiamat with
subsequent advent of Anunnaki; Astounding Science
Fiction & American Schizophrenia Foundation – head
voices telling strange tales; the Angelman Syndrome
Foundation sounds like help for mental patients who
think they’re children of ancient Angel Men Sitchin
claimed were sent by planet Niburu to Earth when
two astronauts, the brothers Enlil and Enki, had
a disagreement regarding man's future

Enki's betrayal of his kind was Avenged Sevenfold
and through Arcane Spell Failure life on planet Earth
was destroyed by a flood; yet Sitchin's Mesopotamian
iconography is criticised by sceptics without imagination
who use vitriolic abuse as Automatic Stripping Factor to
dispel the delightful dream of quantum physicists' Many
World's theory - Sitchin's disciples fight back by using
the Internet as Anti-silencing Factor- I have to change
my views as this sparkling ASF acronym invigorates

With its brilliant story-telling ability - enclosed within
these alternate meanings…

[22 August 2014]

Go Into Overdrive

Finally the call came, the Queen of Hearts fine,
Conan The Barbarian shocked when she cried
falling down  - Annetjie across the street called
the Pastor - who called on medical personnel
 
Dad still loves mom though he claims quite the
opposite – he is SO  solicitous where her health
is concerned – it does not matter, at least mom
is okay; new cheek and eye implant being fine
 
If only their life-style did not require all this
subterfuge - say it openly: She did not suffer
much – and yes, this would help - I would
know when to go into overdrive…

Report Again [REV.]

The Duchess called - the Queen of Hearts
had another fall - hurt her eye on the same
side as when she had to undergo surgery
after the left side of her face was crushed;
and her knee also, carrying packages at 80
years of age, rocks in her path, and I cried,
scared, too far from Mom and Dad in the
Cape, I HATE it when she falls, she should
be playing piano, dad should listen before
retiring to his own den; so I ask, why was

Today so horrible, did telepathy bring the
news subliminally; now in knowing what’s
wrong I still can’t reach them, cell phones
say unavailable, must wait till the Duchess
returns to de Rust from Oudtshoorn for an
update - how did I get into a state without
exactly knowing - was I playing truant or
did my subconscious warn me something
was amiss - still waiting for the full news -
the Duchess yet to see Mom or Dad -

Conan the Barbarian needed sugar-water
after helping mom from the fall - and I’m
still waiting as my phone does not ring; I
wonder what the Queen of Hearts looks
like, and when my sis will report again…

[20 August 2014]

Scent Of Holy Incense [REV.]

A deflated Monday reality and I fail blowing
life into it, all is boring, dull, and listless; my
eyes usually manage to bestow magic but
not today - my ears hear nothing but a soft
hushing sound of the air-con behind me

Stranded in nowhere-land wishing instead it
were Alice’s Adventures - magic present in
singing flowers, mushrooms to change one’s
shape and a Mock Turtle dancing the Lobster
Quadrille; all watching the Archchancellor*

Of Unseen University marching in, unfolding
his compartmentalised hat while cursing* in
stinging insects which make everyone cringe
– the Disc-World certainly does add aplomb
to the pack of Wonderland cards – while

Death, delighted with time, goes diamond-
hunting and tango-dancing, I’m quite sure
the Mock Turtle would like to add the tango
to his repertoire - while a twinkling Little
Prince watches as he passes on his way

To his own planet & his unique rose unlike
any of the others he’s found - there’s a
place in my heart already filled with magic,
where a Prince’s golden statue is stripped
to help people in need - a place where

The scent of holy incense fills the cathedral
of peace constructed of familiar dreams…

[Archchancellor* = spelled as one word in all
Terry Pratchett’s books

cursing* in stinging insects: every time the
Archchancellor utters a curse, another stinging
insect appears]

[18 August 2014]

Power You Acquire [REV.]

This deep wound is proof that what you thought
IS true, no special power seems to look out for
you except to extend your life; anything feared
manifests eventually, helping you find requisite
evidence for believing in a life lost at birth

Yet you’re free to change this view as the love
of all of us reaches out to fill your empty heart
and heal aching wounds; take the hands we hold
out  surrounding you with love, steep in it, keep
your abode safe, follow rules that suit you

Recall past events only in so far as they fill your
mind with happiness, don’t be cruel to yourself,
be kind and affectionate since therein lies the
forgiving power you’re free to use and offer
to everyone who has ever offended you

It’ll free you of your mind’s confused quagmire,
will lead you to the love we all aspire to offer as
we try to salve your mind with the touch of our
understanding shown in affection towards you,
knowing there’s a definite purpose in life

To be fulfilled - and we are ready to play the
roles you choose to assign to every one of us

Boodskap Aan Carine

Liefste Carine, my versugting vir jou is -

om jou stywer vas te hou...

Neem die veiligheid wat ons liefde aan jou bied,

dra dit soos ‘n seëlring om jou vinger, versteek

jouself in in die dieptes van die drome wat ons

aan jou stuur, bind die liefde om jou lyf soos ‘n

nuwe vorm van vastigheid, vergeet die verlede

en gryp die hede binne die ontvouing van ‘n

nuwe, glimmende skoonheid wat joune is

‘n Nuwe son skitter in die hemelruim en diep

binne die aarde in die ondergrondse water ont-

kiem die saad in lewenskragtigheid, so blom ook

viooltjies van verlange in my hart en ontkiem ‘n

vurige beskermingsdrang wat jou veilig insluit in

die liefde se warm ligkring, in glansended vreugde

wat jou veilig hou - en so word ook die vangnet teen

Angs en vrees sterker geweef, net so groei ons hoop

en geloof waarbinne mooier, soeter en sterker drome 

vir jou ontwaak – drome vir jou veiligheid, opwinding

en geluk  - my versugting vir jou is - om jou stywer 

vas te hou...

Marilese Koch


[Ander weergawe:]

Neem die veiligheid wat ons liefde aan jou bied en dra dit soos ‘n seëlring 
om jou vinger, altyd binne sig en naby jou hart.  Vind  jouself in die dieptes 
van die drome wat ons  vir jou stuur op die vleuels van liefde, toegeneentheid 
en vriendskap; bind hierdie liefde om jou lyf soos ‘n snoesige kombers en 
geniet die vreugde wanneer die warmtejou omvou.  Vergeet die verlede 
en gryp elke oomblik aan.

‘n Nuwe son skitter in die hemelruim - en diep binne die aarde in die onder-

grondse water ontkiem die bloeisels van die ewigheid in lewenskragtigheid. 
 Net so blom die vertroue in JOU fleurigheid binne ons hart - terwyl ons 
toekomsvisie vir jou oorwinning in geurige wierook opwadem en die 
boodskap van ons beskerming, liefde en toewyding wat jou veilig 
hou, aan jou bring.

Ons weef ‘n veiligheidsnet teen die angs en vrees wat sterker is as al die ander denk-
konstrukte of die verlede wat in die vergetelheid verdwyn, kragteloos teen die opstuwing
van nuwe lewe in ons samesyn, ons teenwoordigheid by jou soos ‘n goue lig terwyl die
sagte skoonheid van jou mooiste oomblikke uitkring na die hemelse baldakyn.

So groei ons hoop en geloof in jou om lewe en krag na jou oor te dra – so versterk ons
die aarde waar mooier, soeter en sterker drome vir jou ontwaak; drome vir jou veiligheid,
vrolikheid, opwinding, geluk en uiteindelik ook volmaakte vrede ----

----- my versugting vir jou is steeds om jou stywer vas te hou -----