Toads Or Diamonds

Totally unnerved, anxiety peaking to decrease
just to build up steam and rise again as Sister
Complacent-&-Self-Aggrandising reclassified
Donkeyskin as an illerate - she & Sister Long-
suffering share the honour of stars on the fore-
head while I suffer a donkeytail on mine

Mother Abbott leads the Sisters singing hymns
to themselves & their magnificence in doing the
literal translations that leave clients swooning in
their wake, pulling off amazing language coups
that overwhelm the senses with cloying incense
& showcase ability to find the right word for

All things technical - while poor Donkeyskin only
wonders at their mighty intelligence, taking back
her much-maligned translation and burying it in
the ground like an illegitimate child in Medieval
times; shocked to the point of offering to die by
Torquemada’s Inquisition to purge her mind

Life is a burden when all come to the conclusion
that Donkeyskin is a drab, grey non-person who
does not deserve to breathe the hallowed air of
this esteemed institution, the only thing left is to
realise the sensory world is an illusion and that
knowledge dies with the incumbent, only LOVE

Remains, shining with purity and forgiveness -
filling Donkeyskin’s heart with compassion for
herself and everyone else given that the view
of toads or diamonds falling from mouths is a
perception in the eye of the beholder…

Too Overwhelming [Rev]

I do not like playing the subservient role of Sister
Sunshine agreeing with everything, being sincere
feigning worry about pains and aches and worst is
because my behaviour is inconsistent I don’t play
the role very well, thus people know what’s going
on without being told - telepathy is real and we’re
tuned to a non-sensory line which reveals our
feelings to each other

When food causes my brain to spasm between an
apogee of red existential pain and the perigee of
black nihilism I transmit mixed signals - and when
life returns to bluish calm and soft daydreams, I’m
still surprised to find I’ve made no friends since all
reacted to my mental storm by withdrawing; we’re
admonished to make friends here on earth to meet
them again in the life hereafter, but that

Advice has never applied to my life; I blame myself
for a fellow sister openly turning away while I spoke,
then running with bubbling enthusiasm to the Mother
Abbess & Sister Longsuffering in this holy convent
dedicated with religious fervour to Language Studies
and Translation Practices; an open snub challenging
me to acknowledge such - yet open hostilities would
be awful - and I take pride in my ability to play

The wide-eyed innocent, I made the role of Candide
my own ages ago - and thank Voltaire for his cynical
appraisal clothed in wonderment, it fuels my words
and inspires my act when the need to hide my real
self becomes an essential strategy for survival - a
need to mislead myself when the truth becomes
too overwhelming to acknowledge…


[Such is life, maybe the next reincarnation of earth can be
avoided by learning everything about human behavior and
feeling free to discover other places in an infinite universe]

Choice Silver And Gold

Getting ready to vote tomorrow, grabbing a
detective novel to while away the time when
in line, began reading tonight and had to put
it aside in disgust, given the long, winding, un-
necessary descriptions and irrelevant detail –

The boring repetition of the cynical author’s
viewpoint of life in every character’s personal
history with its hackneyed experiences without
love, every character being just a reflection of
the author’s personal perspective of everything

Thank heaven, nobody can make me read this,
never again to be forced under the leash of the
prescribed book for a language or literature course,
if a story is not told in the uncluttered style of an
allegory or proverb, if there is no special character

I can identify with, if the cast in the play have no
ideals, no shiny nobility enticing them into creating
a world of wonder; I won’t get on the ride - if I can’t
collect the choice silver and gold, purified in fire, of
insight how to create a personal world of delight –

The book is a waste, I would rather watch mindless
TV advertisements with their instant magic than suffer
the black perspective of a weary, self-important author…

[2 August 2016 - I'm so disappointed in the novel, ended up
watching children's programmes - Little Charmers, Shimmer
and Shine, Sophia the First, Binny and the Ghost - fun,
lots of fun!]

Noisy Boredom [Rev]

26 degrees & I’m falling asleep to the tune
of an incessant noise of the self-righteous
voice leaving grey intersecting scallops in
the air - red exclamation marks at the end
of every phrase, & waking up with a bang
every time my head falls into my hands

I hear colleagues laugh at my somnolence
while they’re typing; I wish that the month
of August would spirit me away from where
I’m checking terms about plant pests while
the real office pest is having a ball, and an
animated choir of voices join - shouting to

Each other above the cacophony; my brain
deflates, implodes, and totally collapses - I
slide into the small dark cave at the end of
my wits where my ego drowns - leaving this
shell only; slowly my brain is woken by my
drinking coffee, feeling ashamed, humbled

By my sleepiness, I sheepishly regard my
document - start looking for the ONE right
way of declaring acts and regulations, and
rueing that I woke into the same world that
turned off my mind with its noisy boredom

[Being a reptile with mercury flowing in my veins, heat
and noise together does not constitute the best place
for me to survive with my crocodilian senses intact...]