Et Cetera [R]

Bone-dry words, colourless, odourless,
soundless, emotionless, formless, with
only terminological, technical meaning;
no connotation, denotation, - or rhythm
interfering, black and while mechanical
clacking, clack, clack, clack …  

‘The Commission shall present a report
to European Parliament in recognition of
authorisation, application with provision of
division of community, criteria for approval
of substances, safeners, synergists while
the great impact thereof on diversification

And competitiveness, human health -
et cetera’ … clack, clack, clack …

Life-Giving Energy [Rev]

We brought Alet chocolate - she is ready to face
death she said, which held no fear, asking for our
forgiveness of this forbidden subject; we assured
her it was perfectly all right to plan life after this
because it would be a rebirth, a new beginning,
a new horizon leading to Shangri-La, El Dorado
of spiritual dreams - she apologised for talking
so much of angels & prayer & God; we loved it

Formed a circle & prayed with our friend, feeling
how much comfort she received from the blessing
of being together addressing a Higher Power and
trusting that all will be well, even if it should mean
her non-physical rebirth; my bravado fled after we
left - & I felt the sadness of her little figure in the
hospital bed with a draining biopsy, fastened to a
cast to keep the broken hip stable, immobile

Then I cried the tears she shall never see as we
strive to send our love as life-giving energy….

Higher Dimensions [Rev]

From the engine room on this ship - darling Alet,
we translators in another cabin - she’d suffered
a long time, porous bone cancer & fractured hip
healing uncertain; how to support her - can she
eat chocolate - how to infuse her life with love &
light, make her feel appreciated and so special -
she always catered for anyone in need of coffee,
she always entered into my games, laughed

At my jokes, read my poems; will she be back or
shall we meet in the astral dimensions; she’ll be
missed, but if she suffers unbearably she’ll leave
and rise into an afterlife, a super-consciousness
as mastermind aware of her plight can decide to
minimise her suffering yet by convalescence - or
release her soul to higher dimensions where she
will joyously be conscious of her perfect soul

Free and delighted with Being as total freedom….

[Poem for Alet 27 June 2016]

Not A Tragedy [Rev]

Tomorrow we shall see whether I can handle translating a
decree; tho it depresses me I cannot force myself to learn
how to look up rules, where to go for definitive authority; it
seems to be a character fault, or a brain dysfunction, thus
a mystery to me, maybe its the price to pay for not having

Other problems; my beloved is the best caretaker, my kids
so sweet, work situation with wonderful colleagues, mom &
dad growing old leisurely in the Cape - & my twin sis taking
care of our parents; my twin sis the greatest gift ever - & at
school, an older brother teaching me grammar rules

And Geography with diagrams - and today, my beloved and
my son teaching me to use my son’s computer - which he’s
gifted to me as my own’s too ancient with flickering screen,
sometimes refusing to switch on - & so paying the price by
suffering when trying to translate legal decrees and failing

Is no tragedy at all…

Another Head

Now I discover to my chagrin the little alien
in my head refuses to translate a legal plant
health decree, suddenly he’s willing to wash
my cups, all six of them, to look up terms ad
infinitum, but the moment new lines are to be
analysed, he jumps up and hangs from the
rafters in my head

I implore the deva of legislation to help me –
but she has been contaminated by French
despondency and  only sighs in reply, softly
whispering that nobody believes in her thus
her powers are spent, it will need a special
ceremony to cleanse her- but it’s impossible
for me to stare at my navel while

Sending greetings to my internal organs &
greeting my liver and kidneys is too weird -
the warmth of acceptance and removing the
pain of centuries is not why I’m here, giving
up the good fight for what is right, I make a
cup of sweet coffee & then contemplate my
drive home instead – looking forward to

Speeding and greeting taxi-men who like
the competition offered by my little grey car
as I accelerate to inform robots & the uni-
verse of my desire to see a friendly light in
green and this mostly works, the little alien
loves speeding with me and I shall persist
in my work until he desists - or

Finds another head to live in…

Decadence

What can the West expect from the African
continent when the West used its powers
to suppress instead of showing the respect
they insisted to get from those people they
demeaned; using the indigenous for slave
labour under the whip of religion & refined
oppression – while steadfastly refusing to

Accord them the status of the independent,
self-governing intent that flamed in African
hearts, & when freedom came, in a settled
compromise, decadence was the name of
the game since we follow in the footsteps
of former communist Russia, dreaming of
independence in a pre-industrial – even

Pre-historic – African continent…

Led By A Gang

A country always gets the leader it deserves
so we, South Africans, deserve our President
& Government, their corruption only reflects
the mass corruption of our people - the only
difference between the old and new regimes
is - the old knew fairytales, while stealing the
golden eggs, did not slay the goose that lays
them - while the new government is led by

A gang who doesn’t know fairytales, stealing
the golden eggs and slaying the goose laying
them – so in the end nothing’s left - Africans
reject Western politics: democracy’s foreign,
a meaningless term, human-rights means to
destroy with no responsibility; accountability
means that the Zulu-King-President is only
accountable to himself: How much can he

Grab & get away with - this also defines his
cabinet, loyalty to the feudal Zulu-king - and
to the Private Sector it means how much to
increase tenders for services not delivered,
wealthy entrepreneurs see the Government
as a lame duck begging to be fleeced; Zuma
sees the country as a feudal Zulu stronghold
and Western principles are just deterrents to

Prevent Africans from having fun - how can it
be else when the hypocritical West preached
human rights, democracy and religion without
ever extending these privileges to the African
people in the past - when the Bible was used
to refuse sharing equally with the indigenous
peoples; ethics and morality are empty terms
just used to indicate a Pharisee in the making

Over The Edge [R]

Why is it so easy to compound one mistake with
50 more missteps - having eaten spicy food and
feeling ill, it came naturally to eat sausages and
as a result droop like an ancient person of a 110,
unable to lift my head and stand or sit at my desk,
no concentration on prescribed decrees for plant
health protection, no dreams to fill the darkness

Behind my mind, no fun, no energy, no ideas; lost
without the capacity to think - only my conscience
makes me pitch up at work like a pack animal still
carrying the burden of this physical life which was
messed up by allergens, my countering with more
food failing miserably, no antidote works & sugar
makes it worse, looking at plant legislation simply

Drives me over the edge - every minute takes an
hour to pass while every second lasts an eternity,
my lament is there is no need to eat those things
& I can do better than this - here is my plan for a
new beginning: never be caught in this trap again
because being a real zombie is one of the most
awful things in human experience

Nothing To Lose [Rev]

Now it is coming true - excluded from politics &
forced to endure decisions they disagreed with,
the poor took to the streets, torching buses and
buildings - since the luxury to have a say in who
should govern them has been taken away, they
have less dignity than before, believing the only

Way to be heard is in destruction of precious &
valued things of the powerful & rich; their ANC
masters refuse to consider their concerns thus
the only way forward is lead by a burning cross
borne by the people who’re scorned by wealthy
politicians of this world - if there is no redress

They’ll continue to rampage & destroy because
in having nothing, they have nothing to lose….

------News 21 July 2016------

Still Beauty [Cor.]

The awful tale of Jean de Florette and Manon des
Sources is the kind of thing prescribed for kids to
force them to regard the world with prejudice - to
believe in people filled with avarice and revenge
as a necessary measure to balance the scales

Not showing that 2 wrongs never make a right,
a dense story forcing my mental cork down to
the bottom of depression, I shall not watch the
film made of these men – a summary is quite
enough to change the world into a den of sin

Let me return to my games which remake the
world into a glorious place of still beauty with-
out any sign of this depressing plot, I’ll leave
it to whoever wants to cherish immoral ideas…


[Jean de Florette is a 1986 French period drama film
directed by Claude Beri and based on a novel by Marcel
Pagnol. It is followed by Manon des Sources and the films
take place in rural Provence - France. Two local farmers
trick a newcomer out of his newly inherited property, but
hurt themselves even more than their victims.]

Experiencing Myself [Rev]

Alone? No, I was wrong; it was lovely to have
our long-legged, eager-to-please fox terrier at
my feet, at 10 months charming and loveable
while trusting, gentle & sweet - both mood &
atmosphere changed as I read about spirits,
fairies & angels while watching a movie

My son briefly joined us & my beloved retired
to bed, forcing the advent of tomorrow when
he’s fixing the data integrity problem at work;
warmth of companionship filled my heart and
I realised super-consciousness – intelligent,
loving electro-magnetic energy - is perfect

Saying this energy is ‘angels & fairies with
a template for every particle’ isn’t possible;
I can’t see such spirits, although respecting
the right of the author & his followers to wear
invisible green clothing bequeathed by the
fairies; the only fairy I visualise is myself

Wearing a pink cobweb top & feeling like a
magical being of glitter and shine waving a
magic wand, experiencing indescribable
delight in being myself as light


[ORIGINAL:]

Alone? No, I was wrong, it was lovely to have
our long-legged fox terrier at my feet, gentle &
sweet, trusting, eager to please at 10 months
old, so charming and lovable, both mood and
atmosphere changed as I read about angels
& elemental spirits while watching a movie

My son briefly joined us, my beloved went to
bed to force the advent of tomorrow when he’s
going to fix the data integrity problem at work,
the warmth of companionship filled my heart &
I realised that super-consciousness, intelligent,
loving electro-magnetic energy, is perfect

While describing this energy as angels & spirits
with a template for every subatomic particle, is
not possible since I can’t see a twirling spirit in
everything; I respect the right of the author &
his followers to wear invisible green clothing
bequeathed by the fairies, but the only fairy

I visualise is myself wearing a pink cobweb top
feeling like a magical being of glitter and shine
waving a magic wand, experiencing the most
indescribable delight in being myself as light

Without Companionship

I need short-term goals to make the long road
to long term goals bearable, tonight my short-
term goal, making the best of a long weekend,
was killed and buried so deep the memory of
it is already gone: one moment you were still
optimistic, convinced your system worked, the
next you were shot down by the news that it’s
not working - and the little bits of my brittle

Positive attitude, based on Nanny McFee and
a translucent-pearl kitchen in afternoon sunlight,
scattered so far I can’t find a single bit to comfort
me, the only way up seems to need long cotton
candy strings as this mirthless, vengeful fate of
yours where your every move on the board ends
in checkmate, & your rebounding troubles, gave
me a permanent headache, to crown it all

When I could not lock the kitchen’s aluminium
door you descended on me like an angry god bent
on revenge for all YOUR sins through the years –
at least this deflates your mounting frustration while
me being the target means it’s no fun, so without
companionship, my headache & I watch TV…

Probability Of Possibility

When the core beauty of language, the melody and
rhythm in the song it sings as meaning meanders in
a stream along the connotation & denotation of the
singer; is ignored, everything is lost and we are left
 
With just the empty husk, an ice-cold shell confining
reality to a mechanical model; we can’t dream within
rules and rules can’t dictate to us, we exist in chaos
theory, holograms, and the probability of possibility!

Cast in Everlasting Stone + Revised

I’m awed by the things that make other people
happy, a tragi-comedy letter seeking help from
the President against his Lady-Macbeth-wife in
comprehensible English, a colleague used her
rulebooks, grammar books, proverbs & idioms
to painstakingly create a gem of a translation-
a perfect miniature delight fit for a connoisseur

To be sent to the President’s men who will send
it on to the homicide unit to be deciphered by an
officer nonplussed by a Macbeth who can’t flee
the wrath of his Lady plotting to poison him with-
out clear evidence; not caring what the rule is to
describe everything was taken nor whether 'and'
should be 'as well or also', I use the sound that

Rings true in my ears whereas my colleague finds
fulfilment in proving everything with a rule, getting
back the text is a lesson in the application of rules
and regulations, the reader needs to know what is
asked to broadcast a request, there’s no inspiration
to create cameos for non-literary purposes yet my
colleagues ecstatically create rules for every move 

They make, this enjoyment in applying rules leaves
me flabbergasted, when the end is just a file and an
official reply, there’s no hope for an enduring text to
beguile some lonely hours - whereas if there is only
half a chance to wring your heartstrings when my
words sing, I’ll spend hours carving such a poem
cast in everlasting stone…


******************************************************
Cast in Everlasting Stone [Revised 15 July 2016]

I’m awed by the things that make other people happy;
an unusual letter by someone seeking the President’s
protection against his wife, a murderous Lady Macbeth
has a colleague consulting rulebooks, grammar books,
proverbs and idioms to painstakingly create a gem of
a translation, a perfect miniature filigree confection fit
for a connoisseur - to be sent to the President’s men

Who could forward it to homicide where it will be read
by an officer, nonplussed by a Macbeth who can’t flee
the wrath of his Lady-Love plotting to poison him - yet
offers no proof for his claim; it’s irrelevant how we say
‘she took all her things’ -or relay 'and' with 'as well’ or
‘also’, I use the sound ringing sweet in my ears while
my colleague finds fulfilment in finding a rule for

Everything, in the end the final text is a lesson in the
use of reference books, although readers only need
to know it’s a request which doesn’t inspire to craft
literary cameos - to be squandered on government
officials; my colleague enthusiastically backs up her
every move with a rule & her joyful search for formal
guidance leaves me flabbergasted since the

End result is just a file & an official reply, this
is no opportunity to preserve an enduring text to beguile
our sad and lonely hours, whereas if there’s only
half a chance to wring your heartstrings with words
that sing - I’ll spend hours carving such a poem -
cast in everlasting stone

No Deva Here

The letter of a desperate complainant open
on my left since I really must translate every
word for the President, yet, first have to wash
my dirty cups, get water & tidy up  to prevent
the encroaching mess from breaking over me,
search for my glasses & save my documents
from getting wet; put away a  new dictionary
when my notebook-Tower-of-Pisa falls -

Pick them up - I’m running out of excuses to
procrastinate & my eyes turn to the incorrect-
water-meter letter - I invite the spirit devas of
complaint & provision schemes & the deva of
our Department to give me the concept how to
proceed to defend client & defendant, focusing
on my feelings as instructed by the spirit-devas;
feeling a need to eat oat meal - now it seems

The devas left after glaring at me for being so
frivolous to eat as they made their appearance,
realising this my mind protests against the unfair
treatment as I ate to calm my nerves and ensure
harmony for the devas’ influence to inspire relay-
ing texts in correct English and I sigh; there is no
deva here, I have to do the job all alone without
the bright inspiration of deva minds bestowed

On their shiny-halo-aura-reading disciples who
commune with nature spirits and who would not
eat upon calling on the devas to assist them in
completing tasks that seem to be too much for
ordinary human consciousness…

Ritteltitselende

Die water kook in die pot sodat die eiers
ritteltitselende borrel daarmee saam, gou
my nuwe woord neerskryf want dit bekoor
my oor - ritteltitselende sou virseker deur
digter Totius gebruik wees in die ou Psalm
en Gesangeboek wat wemel van diesefde
eksentrieke soorte woorde - gebruik saam

Met ‘die smeltend-skone harp- en sitertone’
asook ‘die sonnegoudtower’ van die 1940
volksangbundel; die poëtiese taalkundiges
sou in vervoering wees oor my nuwe woord,
ritteltitselende sing ek oor en oor - en dans
vrolik waar die sedige vertalers voortwoeker,
uitdrukkingloos, terwyl hulle sekuur korrelvat

Met die standaardterme wat wemel in ons jong
taal se evangeliese geskrifte: Bosman, Pharos,
ensovoorts…

Create The Same Feeling

He wanted to see fairies when he was small and
never succeeded, today he has given up - does
not believe in fairies and spirits, he says, doesn’t
understand that consciousness can create any-
thing bypassing sensory organs, like the invisible
magnetic electricity only manifested in gadgets

Consciousness created this magical feature also,
people taught to believe when small also create
the forms for the fairy folk to present in;  how can
I explain the awareness I had as a child that when
I sang to the upright geyser next to the bathtub to
keep it from falling on us we knew: the toothbrush,

Washcloth and soap were my real friends and we
were not friends with the geyser, grew in my song
as a placating device to keep it from crushing us
all - this feeling was born of necessity, we needed
protection and it was the only way to get it- maybe
one day when he really needs assurance of help

He’ll create the same feeling in his meditation or
dreams – faced with a challenge that threatens
his loved ones, he’s sure to visualise a greater 
power and love than himself…

Spiritual Nerves [Rev]

Though I feel like the fairy Pea-Blossom in my new
muted pink ensemble, there’s greater resemblance
to Miss Marple - a fluffy sleuth; yet this will not stop
me dreaming with my magic mirror that plays along
and reflects me as a flower fairy - tho’ other mirrors

Tell different stories; with flower-fairy-concerts in my
mind I sing and dance all day long, the little alien in
my head turning somersaults, singing louder than I;
now to evaluate words of deva-conscious, angel-&-
spirit communicating Dr Bloom, who says

We can meet devas by being still - being aware of
our bodies, when I try my body insisted chocolate-
dipped koeksisters are essential for survival - I ate
one, still again, and fell asleep, tho’ at least it was a
marvellous feeling; I suppose the devas know that

I’m not a very good friend, they don’t waste time on
me as I’d be reading when they’re talking about the
home-altar-spirit - & singing as they explain things -
I won’t be an asset to the devas’ world, too tense &
on edge - which forecloses my mind and there are

No willing disciples waiting in the wings to hear me
relay any spirit-messages; verily, their poor spiritual
nerves would be frayed…

Guilelessly Replied [Rev]

I’ve just had the privilege of reading a treatise by exotic
Professeur de psychologie Pierre Philippot & ein ganz
fabelhafter englischer Psychologe - Robert S Feldman
claiming a dramatic discovery - i.e., that “People lie to
escape consequences of their deeds”, mesmerised I
was - stupefied by their confabulation of a fairytale

Based on dedicated research & noting people’s replies
to their amazingly intricate & convoluted question: “Why
do you lie”  - their victims, forced into wasting precious
time by filling in questionnaires instead of lying (again)
to enjoy their lives, guilelessly replied “Because I want
to live in peace without persecution for breathing” -

This is touted as a most wonderful psychiatric discovery,
people lie to escape the wrath of revenge and justice by
the injured party; solemnly the pedagogic Philippot and
pedantic Feldman announced this greatest insight in a
human psyche: The young girl who crashed her car did
not tell her dad to escape his ire - Wunderbar! -

Students don’t relate the details of their infidelity so as
to NOT suffer the hate of their mates - Merveilleuse! -
humankind’s never received such illuminating insight
into emotional duplicity, thus, in short - everybody lies
to escape punishment - hold your breath, when THIS
conclusion is stated in grandiose, surreal terms:

“Theory and research support the idea Individuals (the
term ‘people’ is not jargon enough) use deception (not
lying - too common) to modify (not change) a situation
to alter emotional effects (not punishment for crimes)
on the deceiver” - mär¬chen¬haft, wunderbar - & Freud
would jump up and down confabulational with delight

Phantasmagorical & necromancing theories brewing
in his Freudian heart & Oedipusian subconscious as
he ruminates about death in a netherworldian, astral
dimensional frequency - with his consciousness free
to reign supreme without intrusion of all the intrinsic,
animalistic & pantheist cravings of human life -

What joy psychiatry brings to human sciences, it is so
bezaubernd, brillant, entzückend, genial, hinreißend &
phänomenal, sensationell, exzellent, exzeptionell und
superb, formidabel, spektakulär, überragend und auch
überwältigend – finden Sie nicht*?
 
[*Don‘t you agree?]

--In psychiatry: confabulation = a memory disturbance, fabricated
and distorted facts without conscious intention to deceive such as
historical facts, FAIRYTALES

“Regulation of Emotion” – Philippot and Robert S

In A Music Box (C)

Poised above 3 documents on the high edge
as serenely as a ballerina in a music box and
spinning delicately, delighted with my elevation
and unwilling to let go of the temptation to rise
ever higher above ordinary feeling & reach for
ecstasy since nobody knows my whereabouts

Tho’ my body is standing here, my soul’s more
corporeal & my spirit gleeful since this daunting
perspective’s a huge challenge over safe reality;
adventure’s calling in diagonal, perpendicular &
vertical lines to other universes splitting off from
my work station; balancing on my mental toes

I let go of the railing & start free-floating - giddy
with the joy of levitation & waving at a Doctorate
Degree Dr Bloom PhD while I point to my green
sleeveless top - clearly the fairies gave it to me
as it was up for sale, I paid next to nothing: - it
says the fairies welcomed me into their Fairy

Ring in the city, down the Jacaranda-lined lane,
the pink fairies of my dreams are landing in my
beautiful pink work station: the letter of a manic
depressive open and ready - yet I’m flying away
carried up by a current while still immobile in my
office, quiet as a miniature ballerina in my mind

Smiling at a page, following melodic lines sung
intimately in my ears - momentarily derailed by
loud summons of my Chinese-class-colleague’s-
phone, a quick reply - return to my desk where
dreams merge with the essence of the singer’s
vibrato-song imploring Santa Maria, symbol of

Redemption through painful sacrifice, starting
softly, swelling slowly into rounded sweetness -
and I’m rising with it -

 

 

Can’t Enjoy (Cor)

Reading political schmaltz: South Africa called
the great pride of the African continent, its past
has been overcome in freedom of enlightenment,
it’s more advanced than its African counterparts,
but its progress rested on slavery thus it was an
unnatural development, freedom lets it revert to
take its place as a 3rd world country where life
ought to be stopped immediately in order to

Heal its embattled people - Africans should learn
to rejoice in their beautiful being & scorned tribes
how to delight in African origins - no longer being
forced to imitate Europeans by their previous evil
regime - free to enjoy the illegal music banned by
the governing hypocrites; but alas, a slew of new
leaders, blind in greed & oblivious to the need for
work, health & education, unable to focus -

Usurp the wealth, aided & abetted by the tender-
preneurs, BEE is failing; growth in Africa used to
be based on colonialism, now we learnt to reject
middlemen who take more than their share while
corrupt officials take more; our politicians ignore
the future as if there’s no tomorrow, there won’t
be if the disillusioned destroy the country in 

Desperation as the rich feast incessantly not even
leaving the crumbs for the masses - and then they
will destroy what they can’t enjoy…

Entertains

Michal, a lovely young girl - recounting the woes of her
earlier attempt to get fit in the gym, borrowed her fiancé’s
locker - number cell-phone sent, joyfully locked cell-phone
in the locker after morning work-out, a refreshing shower –

To discover all she has is a towel with her clothes and cell-
phone locked up – walking up and down in the gym with
just the towel covering - requesting help to break open the
locker and after 2 hours she had access to decent clothing

What an embarrassment, she says with a laugh, the bubbly
young girl who entertains and delights wherever she goes

Taking Everything

I feel so sorry for our sleepy International Relations Minister
Mme Doo-Dah-Head-Hole-MaitenNkoana Mashanbanebane:
colleague Lola was so lucky, when she & her African friends
carried water on their heads they first placed a scarf, turban
or hijab, or whatever you want to call it, around their heads,
and made an indent so the container was secure - and they
developed strong backs & were filled with joie de vivre 

Colleague Lola was surprised to read Mme Doo-Dah-Head-
Hole carried water without this covering, arousing suspicion
she’d never carried water on her head - evidence indicates
NJET: well, I also have a hole in my head, th’ metaphorical
Black Hole of Quantum Physics even sucking in light - and
nothing resurfacing, until strange currents force something
to my mind’s surface again - OH, but poor Mme Doo-Dah

Head-Hole oe-là là, I know just how she feels after her talk
on Al Jazeerah, suffered pain in her youth while the reporter
from Azania interrogated her on serious Ministerial matters
which Mme Doo-Dah isn’t authorised to talk about - they’re
hush-hush government secrets - & a super-clever, slippery
Houdini of Azania lauded for his ability to wriggle out of any
situation - leads the way; the country’s blessed

It were best to listen to Zuma’s praise singers swelling their
chests raising up Azania’s Prez - & Africa to be stripped of
Western universities and returned to pre-industrial nomadic
existences, footloose and fancy-free hunter-gatherers; thus
intruding Europeans to be shipped to overcrowded Europe
to be relief workers, taking hated Western technology and
religions with them - and shamanism, fore-father-cults and 

Witch-doctors can return to nature-hallowing paganism &
pre-Christian freedom from evil of false human rights with
its very unacceptable obligations & morality; corruption is
unknown in Africa & ethics represent a non-existent creed
not tolerated in the beauty of exploiting underlings - given
exploitation’s also unknown in Azania: with Minister Doo-
Dah-Head-Hole in control & Prez Houdini slipping out of

Every bind, even the Deepest Storms of Bubble-Trouble;
Azania’s free to pursue the policy of this self-servicing,
laughing Zulu King - taking everything…


[Names changed to protect the identity of the
characters in this story of Azania’s Medieval
return to happy Hunter-Gatherer status
oe-là ♪ là!]

Spirit & Ideas (Cor)

Lovely, published in 1998, William Bloom’s book on Angels,
Fairies & Nature Spirits inspires me with a new theory of the
delicious immensity of the creative spirit; when we accept the
presupposition that OUR consciousness is the creator of this
illusion we call reality, we know we can create an inner world,
any mental addition to support our 5-senses actuality that is
kept intact by imagining it over and over in the same way

I failed to imagine administrative procedures successfully for
myself – why does the perfectly completed form of a spotless
production report always elude my questing mind, oh, why do I
pause in vain invoking the spirit of the exercise just to produce
one more lacking rendition of a Holy Grail Report accounting
for my every move, every breath, every thought & inspiration,
why does bureaucratic perfection flee from my typing hands -

My industriously applied questing mind - all I can say in the end
is that this must be the means of leading me to reflect; whereas
certainty keeps my word artist colleagues using their knowledge
only for translating, perfect in administration - they feel no need
for a quest; the pastor’s wife refusing to look at anything except
their religious dogma - all my shortcomings - typing difficulties &
lack of rational perspective & sharp focus on the here and now

Led me to reflect on the meaning of life & the role of philosophy,
love, ethics & morality – the role of Wisdom, Spirit and Ideas…

Leaving Here [Rev]

Books to fascinate - “Angels, Fairies & Nature Spirits”
neatly placed in my bag, marched into the office, my
heart so light, first ballet videos to set the tone for the
day, ended up listening to Genesis I in Hebrew -then
found a site teaching Arabic while my lovely book is
waiting like a delicious dish to keep the little alien in
my head happy and content; then a windfall of work,
Import Permits and President’s letters, so full-steam

Ahead, an unstoppable locomotive; coming home to
more exciting books “My Quest For The Yeti” by an
author who lost 7 toes in his wanderings; to top it off,
“Ripley’s Believe It Or Not”, reading books wins over
watching TV - set for a great weekend, let the blues
find me as the eternal promise of something totally
new wilts as it usually does, I press the reset button
by reading – leaving here to go somewhere else…

Mental Anti-Virus

The pastor’s wife has very strict
mental anti-virus in her head and
mind, she doesn’t read anything
that contradicts her faith & strong
conviction - tho’ it’s clear that this
strategy keeps her safe - I could
never emulate this since a limited
mental world, in conjunction with
my limited physical one, would
suffocate my spirit and destroy
my soul - I think it wonderful to
stop and feel you have arrived –
but I enjoy the journey too much
to ever stop in my life!

Honesty & Warmth [Rev]

I did not enjoy the latest Cinderella with Lily
James - the opening scenes with her doting
parents were so saccharine I turned off the
sound - earnest upturned-face scenes with
her father so irritating I couldn’t allow sound;
the horrible stepmother’s whole bearing and
expression plus extravagant dress didn’t tally
with my ideas of role-playing appearances

The body language of the simpering Prince
gave me the creeps, the English way doing
things lacked the conviction of Oz-cynics;
finally I watched the victorious ball scene -
the heroine’s demeanour made it difficult to
tune in, interaction & disposition spoiled by
ethereal English poses making it impossible
to watch - just like the Tolkien-Hobbit films

Everything is pretentious in the extreme -
I prefer content - all honesty & warmth

Ready To Believe [Rev]

I’d just become the proud owner of a Fowler’s
Classic Authority on Grammar and Style - and
opened it randomly to the word ‘eponym’ - as
explained by a Beowulf quote; but undeterred
in my intent to use a new gift I find credible as
believable as well as credulous, TOO ready to
believe - it is my life’s philosophy in a nutshell:

Anything becomes credible when we invest
belief therein, and we’re called gullible - yet
credulous scientists start to look for evidence
to confirm their suspicions to make theories
credible and their work creditable - deserving
praise: anything infused with enthusiasm will
become true, tho’ thus far claims of reptilian

Humanoids and the existence of portals into
another universe have not come true; I hope
we shall find a way to realise these dreams &
enrich reality, which always seems lacking in
official theories: reality according to science is
so bland - science shall be unmasked as the
foundation for all suicides in modern society!