Subjective, Strange Way [Rev]

Guess who’s been told to butt out - & guess who’s
been told to cease talking & hold her peace - moi -
of course - I’m the one banned from verbalising in
our little family overseen by regulated, organised,
official Scorpio; STOP, he cries over and over as I
try communicating my concern about the Duchess,

My twin sister: you are NOT allowed to influence or
derail OUR perfect New Year’s Party - we’re happy,
perfectly satisfied with life - your twin WILL NOT be
permitted any influence on our delight with the end
of 2016 - & I turn away, write down my feelings; my
comfort & happiness depends on Scorpio’s mood

So I shall desist; no more telling the world how I feel,
no more expressing the concerns about My Duchess
since my Scorpio wants to feel so carefree & to heck
with anybody else, especially my family - I accept it
because without rules I’d make a sacrifice to my

Past, a youth in a loveless house; at least Scorpio’s
loving in his own, very subjective, strange way

A Boyish Rogue [R]

When switching from one language to another I
become a different person, in my mother tongue
a boyish rogue like my irrepressible dad - as for
English I’m restrained like my mama, in French
an ebullient, outgoing extrovert feeling helpful &
righteous, in German a boisterous, noisy singer of

Quatschlieder, while Latin hymns makes me into
a devout seeker of the symbolism of the Divine –
actually I’m multi-dimensional in Afrikaans since
the lullabies mama sang, the stories dad told and
my childhood dreams of becoming all-knowing &
wise, were formed in the tongue of my birth…

Confronted with an exquisite friend who’d increased
in dainty sophistication with the years & who sounds
even more adorable over the telephone; I just backed
out, not able to recapture my previous role of learned
researcher in various languages & philosophy -as I’m
now a lilac humanoid stomping around -and laughing

With my son when he calls right-wing colleagues kinky,
I can’t pursue dignity, sitting in the kitchen with a beach
umbrella to keep the sun away from the sliding doors; -
like a Golem with a sacred Chem in her head - or rather
resembling a purple mermaid with a strange tendency to
change into Quasimodo when confronted with anything

Fragile & delicate beyond my reach though it’s the epitome
of my desire: my exquisite regal friend can depend on me as
a loyal subject without my competing her coterie of dignified
underlings & since the little alien in my head now feels safe
from any pressure to pay my respects in person, I celebrate

My decision with coffee - and washing dishes in the crystal
bubbles rising from pristine white, soapy foam…

So Would We [R]

Although it’s drizzling this mermaid keeps swimming,
always choosing a different outfit to wear afterwards;
the new red kaftan - awful; red & black top - so bleak;
the butterfly top - clean, zebra stripes - boring, a blue
forget-me-not top; trying to change herself with every
change of clothes: now the mermaid’s wearing a lilac
dress that makes her feel like an oversize fairy fallen
from the sky, seeing Dynamo the Magician changed
her a little bit, renewing old belief in a universe that’s
infinite where natural & supernatural is the same: the
only part of existence where boredom enters is human
feeling, if we were allowed to retain our love of life and
belief in joy with which we are born, we would live in a
different world where perspective would be free from
all coercion - and naturally - so would we…

My Own Shell

Finally I accept the Agony Aunt’s advice about the
communication problem: “If a husband contradicts
everything you say, it means YOU are wrong and
should stop talking” and since Scorpio contradicts
my every opinion and theory on principle, and the
sting of his negative replies makes me feel bad -

Keeping quiet will be easier, it seems a successful
relationship between “Alice in Wonderland” & an
Absolute Scorpion Monarch in his own Universe,
implies that Alice has to find her Astrogenetic sign
& act accordingly: my sign is Cancer, retreating into
my shell is one way to find my own happiness -

I shall quietly rest within my own shell and play at
being a mermaid in the pool when it stops raining,
maybe I can become an oyster and start covering
Scorpio's irritating verbal sand with all the wisdom
of quiet reflection until several beautiful pearls are
formed - thus solitude can lead to my creating

My own strings of mental bio-luminescence and I
shall delight in MY own universe deep within my
own protective and aesthetically pleasing shell…

[Saturday 24 December 2016, South Africa]

Mermaid Thoughts

I’m a mermaid alone crashing through the depths
of the open seas, sinking into the abyss to watch
the strange creatures there, then back to the ocean’s
surface, swimming with long strokes far beyond the
breakers on the reefs - as shape-shifter I get up to
walk on the beach and lie down under my favourite
fir tree where the North Wind, a great friend, sighs
his message through the needles and other trees

Leaves - I enter my cave to erect my own bulwarks
against the sun’s merciless heat with a big gift bag,
towel and beach umbrella - everything in blue-green
within the turquoise sheen of the blinds, I already
have fruit cake to celebrate Christmas within the
beautiful Miracle-Play symbolism constructed by
consciousness – currently I think consciousness
is a unit of many different electric cables conducting

Energy; after leaving the signal box of a physical body
turned into a corpse, the electric energy particles flow
into new cables which weave themselves into beings
as eternally continuing individuals which form part of
the virtual reality within an indestructible hologram
always creating new patterns and designs forever –
at this point in my musings I decide to look for my
Scorpio who would be strutting his stuff in his own

Virtual universe which affords all kinds of thoughts
and amusement when I visit him…

Alice And Duchess [Rev]

A lost drunk, My Duchess declared the Lord and Master
of the Crocodile Castle, while HE divulged she was the
deluded wreck of a failed interior decorator; the Queen
of Hearts deigned them out of existence, while Conan -
the reformed Barbarian - said they were both irrelevant
given the hungry people forced to steal from his freezer
on the outside patio - and then Conan -

My dad lurched off to his room and my Duchess played
a keyboard with human wraiths wailing their lives away
while the Queen & I, Alice in Wonderland, couldn’t hold
a conversation given the level of noise; we went to the
Duchess’ Castle where I found the bed so soft I had to
sleep on the floor; - next day the Duchess drove me to
see the Queen in her liturgical phaeton

Where she again played those wailing voices, and when
Alice got home Scorpio said the Duchess’ largesse didn’t
impress him; my sis - Alice observed, is extremely remiss
in good manners - she ruined all conversation with those
wailing electronic banshees on the Queen’s keyboard; &
Alice didn’t know what to think: was she hearing the song
of the crying Gryphon

Or the irrational anger of the Duchess upon discovering
that the Duke kept her changeling child’s wedding plans
a secret, she didn’t know it was on public show; whatever
the cause, while Alice is sad for the Duchess who has to
live with a Wayward Duke, the Duchess laments on Alice
having to live with a Scorpion - preferring the honest

Scorpion to a brilliant, though fractious, Duke…

Larrikeet

We’ve a brightly coloured bunch of utter larrikins 

who share our space, they’re chatty & amenable 

on most occasions when we’re face to face - tho 

give ‘em room to spread their wings and bare an 

eccentricity or three, and there you see what’s in 

a Lorii bag th’ Rainbow Lorikeet declares; & yep, 

beware, they don’t pretend ‘consensual’ sharing 

other species grain acclaims their fey largesse 

So we’ve renamed them Larrikeets - it fits a tee 

they use to bend the way our rules apply, seats 

their aptly greedy dominance where truth is not 

denied, tells quickly how th’ other species wryly 

make adaptions to the way that they relate with 

we - who are the ones who shared them grain 

© 19 December 2016, I. D. Carswell 

Learn To Focus

Home again after holiday lack of discipline I’m too
tired to enjoy swimming and laying the sun & too
tired to enjoy music & animal TV programmes – I
fall asleep ever time, but delighted to see a house
bathed in soft green shades against the sun - it’s
such a privilege to enjoy the house getting ready
for retirement and deciding how to change every-
thing, prepare for visiting the library where I can

Systematically go through the books and making
summaries; my only fear is losing contact with all
people once colleagues are gone & nobody who
loves language is left – my only contacts the kind
pharmacist, ladies in the library, the Lord & Master
of the Crocodile Castle and kids; it might force me
to spread my wings - actively seek companionship
in new places - and if not, learn to focus on life

In the garden and my Queen & strange Duchess…

Queen And Duchess

My Duchess drove many miles to bring me to visit
our parents, the musical Queen of Hearts & Conan,
the becalmed Barbarian, then my strange Duchess
played loud electric-singing-voice notes on the key-
board drowning our conversation, the next morning
we returned to my parents and once again

My Duchess serenaded us with keyboard-voice-songs,
we could not converse & astonished I asked the Queen
of Hearts what could be the meaning of this & she replied
I should block the noise by a mental firewall like she did -
claiming she CONTROLS her world by means of LOVE
& reaps great rewards, but I thought - her love

Had no control over the Duchess - more likely made her
worse, then ‘playfully’ the Queen proposed a longer stay
sending Scorpio and my son home alone so I could sing
in her concert that night, taking the bus home afterwards
trying to use her Queenly LOVE to control her world while
such irrational plans have no hold over me

Why stay when my Duchess made rational conversation
impossible and the Queen condoned her bad manners &
lack of protocol – how unpleasant; when Scorpio stopped
to pick me up the Queen ‘lovingly’ tried her control again
insisting he stays for coffee, but he is strong and refused
any claims on his time wanting to finish a trip

Of 6 hundred miles and we left, the Queen of Hearts and
my Duchess probably complaining their different attempts
to manipulate Scorpio & me had no effect - I hope that my
Duchess learns to respect quiet conversation & my Queen
learns love is not a controlling mechanism - love should be
offered without trying to force others to submit

Only Conan, my dad, acted with quiet grace and thanked
Scorpio, Lord and Master of the Crocodile Castle, for taking
loving care of his grandson and daughter...

Witching Without Magicking

The witch fell asleep on the beach, later ran into
the sea to challenge breakers that threatened to
turn everyone head over heels, only the crocodile
witch and a few young men and kids remained in
the aquamarine of the high-tide sea, braving the
breakers like Spanish bull-fighters who spin off to
the side as the froth charges like bulls foaming at
the mouth, the witch came home to a scene of
peace and discovered her swimsuit is shockingly
un-magical and totally boring, having filled with
sand in the churning shallows the fibrous fabric
refuses to let the sand go and she will have to cut
the fabric to let out the sand, what a sad thing to
do, altering the brand-new suit, witching without
magicking is no fun and suffering sunburn from
sleeping in the sun adds no new delights to the
existential quest for meaning in life…

Witch On The Beach [Rev]

With feelings deadened like a sore tooth extraction by
a dentist where one discovers there’s no pleasure in
the place of pain, there’s only absence, a small death
by removing the nerves; and this is such a case when
desperation lifts away leaving nothing behind, only a
grey boredom, resignation, acceptance of my chosen
fate - as if my spirit chose suffering on entering into
human life with the focus on its most difficult path, the
most arduous work or even the most tedious routines,
leaving the heart lifeless and cold

And - on finding it impossible to decide who to serve,
my Duchess or the Queen of Hearts, Attila the Hun or
Scorpio, Lord and Master of the Crocodile Castle; - the
impossibility of making the right choice destroys inner
peace and turns me into a shape-shifter witch on the
beach, to become a mermaid tumbling in waves who
is tossed on the sand by the force of these enormous
breakers, then leaves the sea to turn into grey-faced
me, my load lightened by the humour of a comedian-
crocodile kid who mimics voices and attitudes all so

Ludicrously - I lose my breath laughing at him & with
him; this joy makes up for these lifeless, sunless and
nondescript areas of life to be traversed in between…

On These Shores

Life is deteriorating in nanoseconds as Scorpio decides my
infernal cheek visiting family in the Cape is the most selfish,
egotistic crime this crocodile has ever contemplated - for
hours berating me for daring to request a lift from the beach
and THEN, heaven help him, my twin sis The Duchess will
collect me to sleep over at her place – phoenix simply goes
viral and burns up himself to emerge unscathed while I, an
erstwhile-mermaid-turned-hag dissolves into a burnt ember
dead, dead inside, empty and blind, deaf, deaf and mute,
while my son, sun-burnt and cute, takes care of the braai
not saying a word in my defence at that would attract more
attack and he knows I can’t stand any more, soon we’ll be
out of the door as I wish to give my Little Prince some cash
so he can enjoy the night life on offer on these shores…

A Mermaid So Recently

Wading into the sea I turned into a mermaid, shot
torpedo style through bubbly breakers and turned
somersaults as light as a feather, the sky a perfect
sphere filled with impressive cloud formations, and
2 years standing at my desk instead of sitting have
made me strong enough to brave the biggest waves

Beach activities led by a loud young man thundering
into his holiday audience, a pink flamingo in the waves
with a fair damsel and her beau keeping her safe, then
my heroic young son asked his dad to collect me in his
sedate estate car as carrying things tired me walking
down to the beach, and like a flaming fury Scorpio

Descended upon me: Lord and Master of the Crocodile
Castle with a frown burning happiness to a tinder, how
dare we, his minions, ask him to move from his happy
spot in front of some heavenly sevens rugby game &
fuming he explains this is NOT how this holiday will be,
we’re on our own - my son and I should know, so

The beautiful mermaid turned into a hag, a witch, an
evil apparition, a banshee; lost for words, besieged by
the Queen of Hearts and brother Attila the Hun who de-
mands a formal visit and my Twin Sis the Duchess also
wants to show her refurbished home, yet the menacing
danger of Scorpio exploding is so real, stopping future

Holidays, the hag stomps to a screen to write the things
she has seen, yet can’t interpret, being a dumb witch who
imposes on Scorpios, takes getting used to after having
been a mermaid so recently…

[10 December 2016]

Supermoon

So far today its been a two-coffee intro to awakening 

realities not evident yesterday; & Lorikeets inimitably 

in a crowd-rousing debate expressed concerns as to 

my responsibilities for spreading sunflower seeds at 

places they habituate - and appropriately appending 

squawking akin to profuse ‘colloquial’ abuse - just in 

case my hearing aids weren’t in; so, having already 

had to solve slow water-delivery problems to get the 

washing machine functioning normally, I’m piqued in 

a manner appropriate to the house-husbanding beat 

of rhythms I am supposed to mythically understand - 

even Magpie encroachment on Kookaburra territory, 

the Hills Hoist clothesline - got a foot in the door; ok, 

I agree, there’s a lot more learning and I’ll get into it 

but first please give me a wee bit of peace; that 2nd 

coffee has a characteristic buzz I’m remembering, if 

not revelling in, from back a ways; yeah, olden days 

when the pace wasn’t frenetic, and listening to ABC 

morning news not a trial by ordeal; then there’s that 

other weird explanation of an enlarged ‘supermoon' 

being an upbeat to contend with this week … 

© 16 November 2016, I. D. Carswell 

Slap Of The Waves

Beginning to realise the advent of headaches 

cringing behind the scenes when they are not 

meant to be has a serious consequence; they 

aren’t random events, trials by ordeal or even

tethered complicity of hearing aids perverting 

duplicity with godlike ease - damn things are 

palliative relief not auguries of consequence, 

nor harbingers to frailty

If there had been sleep-lack confounded with 

irrationally strong drink binges - maybe - or a 

juvenile fantasy of self-destructive behaviour,  

but we’ve been modest since those days; so 

where’s the connectivity? It answers, saying 

this wont please you rationally in the least 

The beast at back of it is serendipity, meant 

as a happy event, and elaborations of sound 

where more impeaches luxurious freedom to 

bathe peacefully; a life-guard confined to the 

beach with caution’s flag in winds of change, 

hearing a ceaseless slap of the waves 

© 8 November 2013, I. D. Carswell

I Was Right [Rev]

It was dangerous advice from a kind guru who wants
what’s best for us, saying don’t tell it like it is - but tell
it like you want it to be; here I am - struggling through
the day, limping home and hanging about in the heat,
my beloved fixing a broken PC: - suddenly, he says

If you have time, come to the study - and here is your
Christmas present, a brand new PC you can take with
you on holiday; how can I speak of reality as I want it
to be when it’s so perfect already? The only thing left
in my life that I’d want different is to be healthy and

Groomed perfectly, all of the rest’s already perfect; its
just my ability to look well-groomed lags behind - my
beloved is sweet, kids darlings, colleagues kind and
coach the best teacher there is - plus my parents are
still alive and my duchess is happy

The sea is waiting for me and right now the clouds are
gathering under my friend the Wind - it is a conspiracy
of well-being - and I always knew that there had to be
a conspiracy somewhere - & I was right, you see!

Beloved By The Gods

I am the beloved of the gods, only those cherished
by the gods get to see such a sunset where clouds
glow in Baroque glory of cherubs held within golden
curlicues while the grass is glowing as if glass lights
shine from below just as the sun god’s golden touch
is covering the rest of the sky and this is clear:

I must tell the world, right here in this place on this
spot at this moment in time, I feel that we, my dog
and I, are the beloved of the gods; the terrible heat
today brought about thunder and built a palace of
clouds - with my heroine dancing a tango I waited
and here it is - a short burst of rain that opened

The curtain of life to show delicately framed cameos
of bright blue sky framed by images of mighty angels
created by swirling lines woven by clouds; what else
can I think - the beauty of it: I have to be the beloved
of the gods to be offered such a glorious scene…