Consciousness Freed

It’s unfair to be forbidden to show any emotion, but
it’s better being happy than being right, no argument,
no justice sought in a fight as these shackles give me
protection against my mother’s terrible, prima-donna
emotional shows and my dad’s scary, primitive, mad
emotional outbursts; I prefer a control freak because

You’re my bulwark against the past, a wall against the
freedom to express my thoughts & feelings - fearing it
would destroy my life or scar my kids like it scarred me;
though forbidden to show sadness or anger I’m glad to
know I still have underground emotions, I can still feel;
many times previously I had lost every feeling there is

And I just existed in emptiness; reclaiming my feeling
and enjoying emotions is a privilege which you reveal
by making me unhappy - which is so much better than
feeling nothing at all, living in meaninglessness, ANY
emotion is better than nihilism, even though I can’t go
back to my parents’ unbridled emotional explosions

Even your ice-cold-steel fury is better than their fiery
emotionalism; no memory of words because I fled the
fire-and-brimstone atmosphere and grandma’s sitting
in sackcloth and ashes, banned to the lowest level of
Purgatory for bankrupting mom to help her only son,
I only know how it made me feel: sad, burned, empty

Hating myself, my siblings, my parents; the key to un-
lock the door to my memories is lost, I think the mind
records all our youth’s scenes and we shall watch these
without the emotional turmoil of the body’s hormonal
secretions after our consciousness has been freed from
the body through the transition to another dimension…

[30 December 2014]

A Belligerent Insistence [REV.]

It’s not WHAT the dear child says -
but HOW she says it - belligerently,
with insistence, demanding listeners
differ so she can proclaim her vastly
superior opinions - she sounds just
like Doctor-Know-It-All, who knows
nothing whatsoever; her taunting

voice rising in offensiveness until 

I need run away to stop detonating
my explosive telepathic messages;
her demeanour & attitude can’t fail
to alienate listeners - substantiating
her claim everyone rejects her and
life is awful: at least she sees to it

That its insufferable for everyone in
her vicinity; I don’t have the spiritual
power to withstand such negatively
wilful spite, she throws the gauntlet
down in remarks intent on goading
listeners to negative reply; I refuse
to take the bait, bite my tongue

Feel an inevitable mental explosion
corroding my soul - & thus need to
leave; one day someone is bound to
tell her why people depart so quickly
when she’s around spitting her spite,
squelching all the little pleasures that
makes life so beautifully worthwhile….

Circles Of Pain [REV.]

Used to cry hearing Ständchen, Schubert’s Serenade,
which my mother played on the piano after tucking us
in bed; as a young child life seemed unspeakably sad
and I lay sleepless as the notes rolled over me

Later I played the Serenade - again waves of sadness
swallowed me - revisiting that meaningless time in life -
there was no love between my siblings and Mom, Dad
and Grandma Alice living with us;

The melody wove a patchwork onto which I projected
everything beautiful I had no access to - being a cast-
away without the will or power to find paradise, stuck
in this trajectory - moving in circles of pain…

[ORIGINAL:]

I used to cry when listening to Ständchen, Schubert’s
Serenade, which my mother used to play on the piano
after we were tucked in bed and life seemed to me - as 
a young child – unspeakably sad; as I lay sleepless the
notes rolled over me - later I played the Serenade

And waves of sadness washed over me, reminding of
a time when life was meaningless as there was no love
between my siblings, Mom, Dad and Grandma Alice
living with us; the melody wove a patchwork on which
I projected everything beautiful I had no access to –

Being a cast-away without the will or power to find
any kind of paradise - stuck in this trajectory  -
moving around in circles of pain…

[27 December 2014]

The Zulu King [REV.]

Living in South Africa is a balance between pros
and cons, the state is criminal; it has never been
otherwise, just as it is almost everywhere - only
overseas criminals are the more adept & better
organised; apartheid villains risked privileges by
relegating blacks to slave labour, risked Africa’s
masses destroying everything, including gifts of
colonial origin, even food production, against

An open democracy versus anarchy; risked the
whole country’s destruction by violating human
rights - they made all descendants pay for such
profligacy surrendering to an uneducated gang
of criminals they created in refusing to provide a
basic human right of education; former apartheid
rulers orchestrated this political situation ensuring
the state’s new masters had no knowledge, no

Philosophical basis or world politics insight when
they took government; a white minority visualised
war in which rich people fled leaving the masses
to completely destroy the country so Africa would
have to start again, disadvantaged moreso than
today where technological gifts remain - though
systematically destroyed by not being maintained

Politicians forced to choose between pros and
cons of conflagration - killing white tribe now or
dying slowly like the rest of Africa - the Mandela
choice chose forgiveness, reconciliation and a
compromise to save everyone, to recommence
politics with the know-how & technology of their
former suppressors - then Jacob Zuma became
the Zulu King, destroying South Africa to start

A new Zulu nation without any aid from former
colonialists: now it’s up to a hard-working middle-
class to decide how they will survive - remember
it’s a game of pros and cons - the unconditional-
love-approach espoused by religions does not
exist in politics


[ORIGINAL:]

Life is a balance between pros and cons, the
South African state is criminal, it has never
been otherwise just as it is almost everywhere,
only the criminals overseas are more adept, more
organised – the apartheid criminals risked their
privileges by relegating blacks to slave labour
against Africa’s masses destroying everything,
gifts from colonial origin, even food production 

Against an open democracy and anarchy; risked
destroying the whole country by violating human
rights and they made their descendants pay for their
profligacy by surrendering to the group of uneducated
criminals they have created as they refused access to
the basic human right of education for everyone; the
former apartheid masters of South Africa orchestrated
the current political situation by making sure

The new masters of South Africa have no knowledge,
no philosophical basis and understanding of world
politics before they took over government, the white
minority visualised a great war in which rich people
fled and left the rest to destroy the country completely
so the Africans would have to start again with a greater
disadvantage than today where technological gifts still
remain - though being systematically destroyed by

Lack of maintenance; politicians were forced to choose
between the pros and cons of a conflagration killing the
white tribe immediately or slowly dying like the rest of
Africa – the choice was made by Nelson Mandela who
chose forgiveness, reconciliation and compromise to
save everyone, to recommence politics with the know-
how and technology of their former suppressors – then
Jacob Zuma became the Zulu King, destroying South

Africa to start a new Zulu nation without any help from
the former colonialists: now it's up to the hard-working
middle-class to decide how they will survive - remember
it's a game of pros and cons as the unconditional-love-
approach espoused by religions does not exist in politics...

[28 December 2014]

Christmas Lights

So maybe I am an eco-adept who’s been 

tardy recognising it - and yet this analogy 

for ‘christmas lights’ split the atom for me 

The plant genus is Cereus - we’ve lots of 

‘em climbing trees - but more particularly 

a pergola where that display now begins 

A night-flowering cactus bloom has scent 

on wings, believe me, yet viewing it in full 

flush is an utterly enervating experience 

Couple that with this flowering happening 

uniquely on Xmas Day and you’ll see my 

sense of christmas lights as symmetry - 

Feel a deeper meaning in the ecology of 

natural events - make a burlesque of the 

crude attempts to synthesise such lights 

And think - we didn’t need ‘buy’ anything 

resembling gaudy decorations ‘dressing’ 

an idea of spiritual sense - or imagine it 

It was there and every element of reality 

we’d ever comprehended accompanied 

it gladly; and that’s just commencement 

Next we’ll see the fruit grow liberally into 

a richness of that essence - whether we

choose to share or feast won’t weight 

A burden on the conscience now freed 

© 27 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

In And Out Of Existence [REV.]

As an Italian song, Caro Mio Ben did not please
when presented for conquest in a singing lesson,
with great trepidation I switch on sweet Amira's
version - and lose my heart listening to silk-like
caresses of voice that stretches, glides, flows -

Now there's no turning back - a soothing sound
of vanilla ice-cream her song became the most
wonderful experience rendered in this little girl's
rounded diction; my singing teacher has been
vindicated, it's clear the deficiency was all me

Without a voice to do justice to amazing songs I
sing with Amira, experience sound vibrating thru
my body yet can't equal her performance, higher
notes forever out of my range; my passion at least
enables me to appreciate these songs made

Superb experiences by her mellifluous voice, the
falling notes mesmerise, she sings chord sequence
in minor key, lost to everything practical, pouring
my whole being into the pure minor notes -
wishing I could turn into a melody weaving

In and out of existence..


[ORIGINAL:]

Caro Mio Ben did not please when presented as
an Italian song to be conquered in singing lesson,
I switched on Sweet Amira’s version with great
trepidation and lost my heart, listening to a voice
like silk that caresses, glides, stretches and flows

Now there is no turning back, a soothing sound like
thick vanilla ice-cream milkshake, this song became
the most wonderful experience rendered in this little
girl’s rounded diction; my singing teacher has been
vindicated and it’s clear the deficiency was all mine

Without the voice to do justice to these amazing songs,
I sing along with Amira to experience sound vibrating
through my body, yet I can’t equal her performance as 
the higher notes is forever out of my range; at least my
passion for music enables me to appreciate these songs

Made into suberb experience by her mellifluous voice,
mesmerised by the falling notes as she sings a chord
sequence in a minor key, lost to everything practical,
pouring my whole being into the pure minor notes -
wishing I could turn into a melody weaving

In and out of existence...

[26 December 2014]

Gentle Golden Light [REV.]

I send you and yours a golden light of love
each time I float in the turquoise pool, look
up at a soft blue sky tinted with light of life,
direct this energy to my far-off friend - and
the poetess I love with her music & song
sadly languishing in hospital

I wish my knightly nephew similar energy,
know he loves his little daughter with all
his might - yet you continue in depression,
cannot reply, your voice is still, no humour
softens the sides of your mouth, I wait for
your comment on the poems I sent

But nothing arrives - and still your silence
does not stop the flow of the gentle golden
light of love…

Drift Away [REV.]

These wonderful young kids have technique but
lack adult vocal chords to resonate with a wide,
perfect, rounded sound - oh, its wonderful they
can already master it in their youth and enchant
the world with the sweet sound they produce

Christmas grinds on at my computer refuge as
I listen to Maria Callas and Amira singing songs
bringing tears to my eyes & wonder to my heart,
we’ve yet to prepare green beans & fillet on the
braai but I escape to the divine which reminds

Of the magic of pure forgiveness & reconciliation
between man and man, nation and culture, races
meeting each other and forging more than just a
truce, a real new beginning as the fine symbol of
Bethlehem reminds us that the ideal of peace is

As old as mankind itself; my joy in these dreams
is rekindled - and I gently drift away into eternity…

An Ethereal Bloom

Thinly it flows – the sweet little voice, pure,
growing thinner on rising with certain vowels
but as she arrives at the really high notes her
voice grows broader, stronger, then fans out
beautifully in an anchored, rounder vibration

Rising with a new strength, an ethereal bloom
exploding in even waves of incredible beauty,
mesmerising in its purity, loveliness – driving
me into a reverent, adoring  silence as my soul
reverberates with the finely tuned voice

Swelling unto heaven carrying my heart with it
I can feel the gods as a celestial presence awed
by this exquisite voice breaking over them in
waves of a new delight these sensuous
beings have only ever hoped for...

[22 December 2014]

On 15 December 2014, Amira sang the Christmas Song “O Holy Night” at

The Royal Albert Hall in London

http://amira-online.com/

List Of Loneliness

There, the anger is gone, why worry when a
dictator refuses to dictate? Why feel sorry
for yourself when your foot refuses to mend
or when they hate the subjects you discuss,
why bother when another is going to join
your little family so you can safely withdraw
into a mental haven for thoughts?

Gathering clouds are promising rain, you can
sit quietly in your corner without bothering
anyone, the circus will be here and your feelings
will be safely held in the words you wish to share
with those who like to read… Feeling overjoyed
about our new Miss World, reminding yourself
not to mention her name forestalling the scorn

Your interests evoke, feeling positive about
Eskom; that’s where the discussion with him
stopped, knowing you can watch DVD’s on
your laptop and the washing’s done and on
the line, you have a new book to read which
you bought and ignored for so long – this is
the only form of bliss that endures beyond

The list of loneliness when nobody’s around
to tell you how irritating you are…

My Brother Atilla the Hun [REV.]

Without wisdom & self-discipline my brother Atilla
the Hun still sits in an ethical morass we were born
into, he rejected the help of a children's book series
offering a moral system which saw me through child-
hood and led me through the darkest days of my life

Sired into an ethical vacuum, Atilla rejected idealism
in mother's religion - she detested grandma & Dad
with whom he identified, sharing his fate as Conan
the Barbarian mentally fixated in a nightmare world
of violent childhood, never rising into self-respect -
and as Queen of Hearts mom simply insisting

'All ways are my ways', trying to change everyone
except herself; Atilla internalised emptiness and
never tried to reach the sublime by finding a hero
with integrity, he gave up before his life began; the
end of his story could be read in its beginning -
addicted to anything that kept life looking sullied

And empty, giving in to all temptations without
considering the needs of his loved ones, a wife
and daughters; not facing his shortcomings - just
charging on incapable of learning consideration,
kindness and the values of civilisation…

[19 December 2014]

[I refer to the Keurboslaan book series, the fictitious school principal
was noble and offered a moral system of integrity which made up for
the lack of such a thing in our family life, but my brother “Atilla” derided
the character of Dr Serfontein and did not accept this system to get up
out of the morass]

Spiritual Musings [REV.]

I need to travel in time to surcease my brother Attila
the Hun’s suffering through the strife of mom as the
Queen of Hearts and dad as Conan the Barbarian; to
give him a better life, prevent the bitterness showing
upon his lips and ruining him; to guarantee his smile

Only problem is - how does one travel in time to just
the place where this universe splits; should I go back
to stop Mother teaming up with Conan thus Attila not 
born: but what about my brothers Peter Pan and Tom
Thumb, and my twin sister - the haughty Duchess

And what about me, Alice in Wonderland - who’d I be
with other genes or if the Queen of Hearts never read
Lewis Carroll to me when I was small or if I didn’t read
Agatha Christie; what if this equation did not contain
Conan, who would my eldest brother be - would he

Become the strong, happy brother I admired when
we were kids; but who would “we” be with another set
of parents? Given these questions, I’m glad that time-
travel is not possible - going back means I’ll be left in
another reality without family, without references and

Even if Attila looks bitter, maybe his soul or spirit is all
the more improved, maybe he came to earth to learn
spiritual lessons which could only be taught by being
an hysterical Queen of Hearts first-born & son of an
aggressive Conan who formed a terrible bond which

Still strikes fear to my heart; maybe Grandma Alice
needed to be the Cinderella who never went to the
ball as she made it possible for us to go decked out
in clothes she sewed; led by her selfless example a
gifted Queen of Hearts suffered in her own attempt

To grow spiritually…

Moonboot Off [2nd REV.]

Another instance of illusions lost,
trying to exercise watching ankle
swell and limping while the team
of professionals order me to walk
elegantly - legs and hips refusing
coordination, hobbling like a duck

I resemble a pelican struggling on
land yet I dream of sailing through
the air on avian wings, but there’s
no flying for me - heart bleeding I
waddle on - disappointing all who
say - walk normally - just so they

Can see the original me running
free but its come to naught; thus
as my spirit does I close my eyes,
listen to music soar - free from 
these recalcitrant moonboot
ligaments refusing to budge

[18 December 2014]

Difficult To Keep Strong [REV.]

Decorated the study with old blue religious pictures,
my small lights - a lamp and a hat hung on a hook;
expressing feelings fills me with energy; too excited
to sleep, playing with beautiful things & looking for
pictures of the sea and sun to lose my altered self

In the vast blue expanse & enjoy beauty of what is
to come, singing my song as we wander the beach,
I’ve now faced my fears of being an old person in
the young’s eyes, I know how old sun, sea & wind
must feel - I think they will welcome me more than

In the days of my youth; growing older is a gift - it
made me aware of other things, for the first time I
have a desire to take life as it comes though fear
and doubt still make it difficult to keep strong…

Be There For Me

Made a mess everywhere reflecting the mess in
my head, I want to be happy without escaping
into a book, want to stay in the present and it’s
hard, reality is scary, without illusions only the
world's steel outline is left

I haven’t created new visions to replace childish
ideas, my choices leave no space for innovation;
did I choose to be so incommunicado or was it a
side-effect of other things, why do I have to feel
awkward and self-conscious when dealing with

Too-kind or boring, bigoted people, how to be
satisfied researching subtle differences in terms,
when shall a quiet happiness pervade my life and
keep flowing even when facing challenges I don’t
understand, when shall peace keep me safe

From dark thoughts, when shall all my fears be
unmasked as chimeras, when shall my thoughts
remain tuned to the right frequency where sweet
music is playing - and stop reverting to a chaotic
state leaving me winded on an empty beach

Without meaning – when will the meaning I give to
things stop changing into alienation, how can I be-
come a happy beach bum when I judge myself as
too old to frolic – yet dream of playing in the sea:
will my older physical frame allow me to

Meet my friend the sea head-on, will the sun
and the wind be there for me…

[5 October 2014]

Thoughts Congeal [REV.]

There is no space, no movement of time in my heart -
stuck in one mood, one bizarre feeling of the absurd,
biocentrism meeting quantum field theory geometric
version as I stand outside the three dimensions of

Reality’s amplituhedron, chained within the Dungeon
Dimensions where my fears feed on my dissatisfaction
with physical life’s carousel as illusionary camouflage
enabling the adventurous consciousness to

Experience life as stages of dramatic and concurrent
reincarnation, since time and space is only a thought
construct, it is a game by which the thinker learns to
mould energy, using time and space as steel girders

On which to hang imaginary physical life - the mind
creating parallel universes sliding over each other
as visualisation and dreams create new places
for thoughts to congeal…

[3 December 2014]

Sad Musical Theme

Final destination, final revelation by my dear
kind physiotherapist; why he didn’t give me
exercises resulting in remonstrations at my
recalcitrance to move my imprisoned foot
freely about, to pirouette and waltz

Being haughtily informed of thrombosis, sent
home with dire warnings about laziness - but
right now it seems so unnecessary, left alone
I’ll wiggle my toes in the air, dance my feet on
the wall, walk everywhere - still sulking

Because medical people dare to launch attack
after attack while I parry their blows quietly like
a lamb dumbstruck at being led to slaughter -
total mental disappearance sounds attractive
right now, becoming a sad musical theme

[3 October 2014]

Straight To Hell [REV.]

It’s hot, kids have TV on loud, the much-maligned
moonboot is evil, the doctor said, the only problem
is in your head – throw boot away, start exercising,
you useless Taugenichts, wasting my time like this

Evil I slink away, dastardly evil-incarnate-moonboot
in my hand, doctor growling, how DARE you come
here wearing a thing like this, go away, you devil’s
spawn, get you some exercise and be done – yes,

I can see he’s right - in my bones I feel demons,
my terrible foot’s taking me straight to hell…

Live The Message [REV.]

Though so many other things completely
mystify me - one I do understand easily;
our spiritual message is the life we live, we
present self as a gift - uniquely expressed

We are entertained and inspired by others’
talents and achievements; growing older I
find personality manifests in presentation,
flimsy beauty of all kinds of stars can’t

Enchant me if self-aggrandisement and
arrogance are subliminally revealed, when
choice of song and words shows a hollow
core with weakness of character

Knowing moral failings spoils my ability to
enjoy art expressed by voice in song, and
experience taught any who take recourse
to charm aren’t trustworthy, trying to hide

The true self behind a veneer of false cheer
unduly fakes advantage through a charming
act; through my life I wish to offer the gift of
honesty - the ability to laugh at myself and

My self-assumed martyrdom, to share my
boundless joie de vivre when the clouds lift
and the sun appears again, I want to live
the message of joy I bring…

[2 December 2014]

Unending Minutes [REV.]

Unrelenting depression - must get
my foot to heal and carry on though
life’s hateful; I’ll go in search of food,
try to survive until I can stop taking
this hellish brew - this medication

for inflammation; besides, evidence
it’s working is invisible - so is it worth
suffering seconds that coagulate into
awful wholes of unending minutes
crashing into cascading hours

of a river aflood in a pestilence of
unending doom; my only peace of
mind is in the momentary release
of gratefully eating before the next
bout of depression sets in…

[2 December 2014]


[ORIGINAL:]

Medication for inflammation, unending
depression, must get foot to heal, must
carry on although life is hateful, I will go
in search of food and try to survive until
I can stop taking this hellish brew –

Besides, the question whether it’s working
can’t be seen,  is it worthwhile carrying on,
suffering through seconds congregating
into awful wholes of unending minutes
flowing into hours like rivers of

Unending doom, the momentary release is
to eat before the next bout of depression
sets in…

[1 December 2014]