Sleep Into Tomorrow [Rev]

All alone tonight; my Beloved’s here, but he’s sleeping
his way into tomorrow - the new duties at work - a new
responsibility as Pricewaterhouse Coopers landed him
with more than he bargained for - so

I’m not the only one going into shock as the New Year
approaches; I’ve got the Royal Variety performance as
company because everything else’s worse - that’s how
bad it is; daughter left with her best friend, son left with
 
A casual work acquaintance, my beloved left for bed to
sleep away the old year with impatience for tomorrow -
he can’t stand the wait for important things to happen
so I’m alone - and that’s the way it should be - IF I’m

Willing to remain the companion of my honest, sweet,
enthusiastic, unique beloved - my sweetheart has my
full support in overcoming his staggering obstacles - ;
my son came by with a friend in tow - another friend

Meeting them at the restaurant & I’m left alone which
reminds me of the time I was selling flowers on New
Year’s Eve & old Portuguese women sat around big
serving baskets while the young ones danced - I

Was the odd one out; today I’m the oddity again - as
long as my beloved regards New Year’s Eve an event
that’s intensely private it has a meaning that I will be
discreetly isolated as he goes off to try sleep his way
Into tomorrow…

A New Journey [Rev]

Was met with scathing comment from my kids in an
attempt at creating beautiful spaces; - daughter said
I created childish landscapes wherever I went - and
pointed to the pink edging I applied to the turquoise
curtains in the once-white living room, it might have
passed muster if I hadn’t used shiny crystal strings;
my son said the study resembled the local material
shop - and this inspired me to rearrange things

But when I stood on my chair he was shocked at my
daring to balance on a revolving unstable object - &
I sighed - I’ve been standing on cupboards balanced
on tables which were placed on desks in my office -
through the years; balancing is about knowing where
the pivotal point is and never overextending; yet how
can he know his mother as an acrobat; rearranging is
fun and joys of decorating change it frequently

One long uninterrupted pattern of ornaments & décor
ideas is not fun - I change things as a process is the
best part of anything, a journey of joy, arrival at any
destination only means a new journey is planned…

Half-filled Notebooks [Rev]

The study’s a small room, adding cascades of white
& silver lace makes it looks bigger; now let’s rejoice
because my books have been unpacked, stacked in
neat piles behind a façade formed by a duo of sturdy
bags which the little alien has carefully hidden all his
precious notebooks in

Greyish-blue-teal cloth - shiny like water in the sun -
covers the bags to hide them; the tops are covered
by shimmering white & silver glitter fabric, Scorpio
loves the new look while the notebooks are safe ’til
I can sort them; the little alien spent two days in the
study cleaning it and my porch, moving furniture

And washing every ornament & glass bowl, small
housekeeping tasks keep a fear of trying to decide
the notebooks future at bay - sorting’s deferred to
another day & the house is clean: excellent ways
of procrastinating, escaping pressing problems,
but what to do with a host of half-filled notebooks…

Refusal

This and that and the next thing - just don’t tell me,
just don’t tell me – a conversation only takes place
on MY terms, he says, don’t ask questions - I won’t
repeat the plot of an article or movie, I won’t tell you,
I won’t tell you, read it for yourself or watch the film

Just don’t ask me, don’t ask me, I never analyse any
topics and conversations only take place on my terms,
then he adds - Feel free to talk - and as I start – Just
don’t tell me, just don’t tell me, talk about the weather
or cars – but be specific, what car compared to which

Other car, don’t compare unrelated things - discuss
home improvements, the paving – the nuclear waste
in the back – that’s what it is, I think without saying
it – painting the paving, fixing the ceiling, sports –
but only relevant things, not the All Blacks or your

Admiration for them – just don’t tell me what you think,
only tell me what I want you to think, repeat my thoughts
back to me - as for the rest, just don’t tell me, just don’t
tell me - and I put up with it because in life’s equation as
a game of pros and cons, his honesty weighs more than

His refusal to listen to me, after all…

Happy Decision

Decided on a new use for my lampshade top:
as a pink rose-patterned cover for a cushion,
so much better than wearing it resembling a
walking curtain; with my beloved deciding to
succumb to his nerves & sleeping so much,
I watch disfigured cancer patients on TV

Parts of their faces gone, reinforcing a cancer
surgeon’s refusal to undergo treatment when,
in his turn, he was diagnosed with cancer “All
those years, he declared, I’d cut people up,
removed eyes, noses, jaws, caused them a
constant embarrassment & pain yet seldom

Prolonged their lives beyond 5 years of misery
due to radiation - just adding them to a list of
“successful” statistics, not divulging many died
after 5 years meaning their treatment was just
unnecessary pain; I reject prolonging length of
my life at the cost of quality and I’m sorry for

What I did to patients” his words ringing in my
ears - since I believe consciousness endures
beyond this life, I have my own ideas regarding
use of medical science to force people into the
role of helpless victims & I shall take my own
counsel when proposed interventions threaten

My happy decision to move out of this life into the
astral or any other ethereal dimensions…

[Story:

After my editor’s changes I also changed the poem’s
ending to clearly state my plans should medical events
suggest health options that would cause scarring which
only a dedicated Frankenstein-monster fan or Phantom-
of-The-Opera imitator would consent to, accepting the
medico’s mangling interventions – the title is changed
to reflect the happy decision here not to become just
another false statistic as a helpless victim.]

Soft Fleece [Rev]

Finally the jittery feeling’s gone & two mischievous
connivers, my son and I, creep from the house with
sleeping Lord and Master of the Crocodile Castle’s
garage card, put fuel in his car - five distinctions in
the law exam deserves my son this credit, and the
shakiness is suddenly gone: I always suspect

Supernatural influences - though it’s infantile & no
evidence is ever found; I feel anxiety about mom &
sis fearing I pick up subliminal help messages; yet
when I enquire, sis turns into a haughty Duchess
pushing me away and mom becomes the Queen
of Hearts bragging about her conquests – maybe

The illegal oats mixture I had earlier today really
fixed my system, even if insomnia and sinus are
the result; now peace covers me like soft fleece
spreading wings enfolding my soul - making my
heart feel safe

Probable Meaning [Rev]

I’m shimming about the house and looking like an
oversized lampshade, jittery with impending doom
feelings following every move, not knowing when
to start to meditate since it can be done all through
the day - I can’t decide the time, feeling confused

Doing the laundry & watching National Geographic
programmes searching for the hopping crocodile;
after a week of over-sugaring on chocolates while
visiting my relations, real food seems boring and
pointless; tried sorting half-filled notebooks last

Night to decide which to trash - but the little alien
in my head got too agitated, I relented, decided to
junk nothing - but what’s the point of even sorting
them then? Now I’m just hanging about the house,
buying fabrics I don’t need & filling mega-big bags

With notebooks ’til they are too heavy to move; I’m
making NO headway trying to tidy; I’m a hoarder &
there’s no stopping the dictatorial little alien in my
head proclaiming notebooks and printed internet
information sacred - caught in a mental inner fight

Between rational clearing of clutter - and the little
tyrant in charge - I’m too fatigued to fight back and
thus evade debate by dithering and pottering and
wondering about the probable meaning of my
useless existence….

Revelling

All of a sudden everything turned out right:
the tree team carted the fallen tree away,
garden services fixed the grass till all was
spick and span and my truly bewitched ear-
phones, silent for so long, suddenly work
again – magic’s in the air and everywhere

Found the most beautiful pink material off-
cut, covered the couch with black material
to general delight, hung white net curtains
in the study and lounge, now we’re friends
again & my daughter’s studied insolence
does not bother me at all and I can listen

To the first Nodame Cantabile series with-
out interruption, how can one express the
wonder and peace of this turn of events?
I wish I knew, I wish I could float up as I
tried to show my son who made fun of me –
his entertaining personality endearing him

To me; finally we are revelling in the good-
ness of the universe…

Get Over It [Rev]

Apparently I’m the only one being wrong - and I can
agree since my twin sis, my daughter & you find me
insupportable it must be my problem; if my son does
not complain, and then YOU complain I take his side,
so he’s probably wrong, och weell, so be it, I’ll drink
some vodka & forget about stupid things like human
rights, and yes, how awfully

Disgusting of me wanting to offer my daughter treats
BEFORE she’d had time to come home - how like a
SHREW I forced goodness on her when she felt like
biting people, having read till 4 o’clock in the night -
obviously I’m wrong & you’re being right about me
being the demon in your scenario - of course man,
that’s who I am, now get over it, already

Lonely Day [Rev]

The morning bloomed with hope and possibility as
I did the laundry - but as the day wore on, all came
to naught: clothes put away, went to the pharmacy -
and that’s it, nothing more in this day, no chocolate,
cake or sweets, no conversation as you prefer to sit
on your lonely, self-righteous cloud, angry at life

For sending a hail storm yesterday & a tree falling -
how dare it spoil YOUR holiday - and from then on
your tenterhooks waiting to get a tree-cutting team
to clear up the mess, doing nothing else, being in
an operational mode you say, & stay on your dark,
angry cloud; ignoring everyone else - I read the

Newspaper, every sad word about Zulu King Zuma
wildly appointing Ministers of Finance & recession,
no words of yours wasted on me except remarks on
he dustbin overflowing - that’s deep, that is - so the
lonely day passes away….

The Aftermath [Rev]

The adrenaline-high’s over, now facing the aftermath;
fatigue & getting back into routine of repeating same
things, from unusual events back to duty - relaxation
by rote, no spontaneity, no spur of moment decisions
nothing to disturb the Master of this Castle - and no
adrenaline staring at same scenes - salvation to be
found in reading library books

Soon life will be agreeable again after adventures of
two 18-hour bus trips and facing challenges posed by
the Duchess - and Petruschka adding his share to the
heady mix; mother preaching and me advising her to
stop treating all people like idiots to be charmed and
exploited; dad getting angry, seeing fear in his eyes
on my threatening his little world

By cleaning his room; the Duchess haughtily distant
telling me she’s happy when she was patently not - the
sales-lady pretending to know everything about crystal-
consciousness; exchanging presents and family secrets
rehashed & proving to have no more power over me, a
boring life enlivened by Petruschka wishing to buy a
farm with iron foundry & forge & implements

To be salvaged & sold to museums; trip on a quad-bike,
two hovels to be torn down - the labour worthy because
of the marvellous view of the mountains & the Duchess
unhappy to lose her home till they can build a new one:
such wonderful challenges & adventures and here I am
back home, nose to the grindstone of preset decisions
and all the homely scenes…

Deferentially

I’m angry, said the Duchess, looking at Alice
with swollen eyes after she suffered all night
with pain in her heart - I served the family -
Attila the Hun, his wife the waif, their 2 kids,
I did everything, ran up & down, you know
how FAR the kitchen from the patio & they
carried the coffee, milk and sugar back into
the kitchen BEFORE I had coffee myself

When I finished doing EVERYTHING all by
myself and wanted to enjoy their presence,
they claimed fatigue and went to bed and I
was left with hurt feelings because nobody
wanted to sit under the stars with me; Alice
replied, thinking deeply - Dear Duchess - &
she curtsied deferentially; Next time set
out the meal on the dining room table

Leave the coffee in the kitchen then invite the
guests to help themselves and converse with
them enjoying their company while they’re still
awake; NO, replied the lugubrious Duchess in
sepulchral tones, NO, I LIKE taking care of my
guests - that’s not the problem, my behavior is
beyond reproach - I always do my best for my
guests: THEY are the problem, I shall spurn

Them in future, not be home when they call,
they must learn to accommodate Me and all
MY lovely whims and Alice sighed; talking to
the Duchess was pointless - she rejected all
solutions & repeated her actions - expecting
a different result, insisting the others should
change & wait quietly until the Duchess has
time to be cosseted by them in their turn

Oi, my difficult Duchess, consistent behavior
does not teach you anything and no-one can
enjoy peace in your accusing presence, there
is just no solution for the problems you create
in haughty self-justification - if only my words
could reach you - even returning your emails
doesn’t help to show the logical implications
of your own illogical reasoning - And then -

A chastened Alice started reading Little Lord
Fauntleroy by Frances Hodgson Burnett and
for that reason was snubbed by the Pilgrims
in Bureaucratic Paradise - by Pieter-Annette
and Pastoral-Hermien while Hanlie-Sunshine
ran off before Alice said anything, so reading
children’s books won’t be acknowledged in
their austere Spartan lifestyles where

Only death-dealing murderers and brilliant
detectives created by smart  contemporary
authors are admitted in their existence – so
Alice felt dejected till Thokozile entered the
scene and sang their theme song – Heloee,
Heloee, Alice sang back and Pieter-Annette
plunged a knife into them while the naughty
offenders laughed about such terrible crime

Meantime an irritated Duchess kept scolding
her errant relations into subjection and Alice
is awaiting her fate - to be disciplined by the
ever vigilant, self-righteous Duchess…

 

Light of Expectation (R)

The Little Alien turns somersaults within, his sorrows
forgotten; he’s so glad to be going visiting, accepting
there’s no other tomorrow, but ready to face the fiery
temper of the Duchess and her propensity to scold

All into a manic frenzy - then offer her services while
exploding if the little Alien offers help or sympathises
with her problems; Alice primly awaits developments
in a quietly resigned demeanour - while the Little

Alien is already swimming in the sea of his dreams;
sleeping on the beach - & no amount of persuasion
will convince him that all he’ll see is the mountains -
De Rust is some distance from the sea; leaving him

In his bubble Alice drinks her tea & demurely cleans
her work station - but look closely and you’ll see the
glistening light of expectation burning in her eyes -
she’ll try to make a grand success of this visit as it

Might her last chance to see Conan, the Loveable
Barbarian, and the Queen of Hearts, her infuriating
Grande Dame of music and song…

Silence A Soft Caress (C)

Investing belief in words repeated - we are one,
sweet to my ears & beautiful to my eyes seeking
symbols for ideas to assign a sacred meaning to
everything - the body’s only a vehicle interacting
with earth reality to recreate everything regularly

We’re not a body just as electricity does not be-
come the TV-set presenting a programme; when
sets are calibrated perfectly they relay a hidden
meaning in the lives we chose before birth - and
the universe appears a spiritual event recreated

By the Soul-Gestalt through musical scales which
reverberate in emotion and feeling; life might seem
a nightmare of pain, suffering & disappointment we
leave behind when dying; yet the truth is real being
remains joyous in higher spheres, only a small part

Is channelled into illusions which dissipate when we
enter spiritual dimensions; human life’s a classroom
to learn wisdom and we are never alone, we can ask
angels for help when lost, anxious & threatened - we
find joy when going within to our inner sanctuary to

Find God’s Love Supreme where thoughts stop and
the sweet silence turns into a soft caress which shall
be channelled into inspiring messages strengthening
love, proving belief always results in manifestations-
we have this space within filled with energy by which

We can live in unconditional love & acceptance sans
judgment, setting neither preference nor requirement,
sending forth feelings of contentment with everyone
like the shining sun delighting in everything equally…