A Free America

I used to like Liberty and Tolerance, how strange
to discover the evil of those who preach belief in
these - mainstream politicians’ barbaric, savage
response to the opposing Conservatives -

A new President slandered by unending malicious
gossip, rationality dictates liberal forgiveness of a
national vote, but the hatred grew, forcing rational
suspicion of censorship & propaganda against

An underdog; why did the Left become medieval
witch-hunters - spewing hate with immoral words
“The end justifies the means”- the most unethical
slogan there is - these bureaucrats’ obsession

Led to a logical conclusion: THEY are the enemy
colluding against Freedom trying to destroy a free
America in order to destroy its lawfully elected new
President… I was brainwashed by a liberal media

Blinded by their own propaganda; but their hateful
lies & spiteful deeds leading to false impeachment
based on idiocy made me see through the morally
bankrupt politics & recall the Nativity of a Saviour

Come to reject the religious Pharisees in Galilee:
America, the truth has set you free; this despised
man as President is come to fight on your behalf
against an immoral & lost Political Establishment

Destroying freedom through socialist ideals which
have unfailingly failed everyone, everywhere they
have been tried

[Sunday 29 December 2019]

Mute Version Of Me [Revised]

Perceptions of a fast-changing-self - &
I can’t keep track; different psyches all
defined by inhabiting divergent Worlds;
for the first time in ages a positive geek
visualised through my glasses in seeing
a self-assessment growing on my desk

Diversified emotions induced by circling
events and people blind me within this
fractured spirit and broken mind; it is a
world grown so overpowering even the
least challenge or tiniest requirement is
a hurdle I’m unable handle; I sadly stay

In the dark, bored, lonely, mute, blind &
deaf to excitement or changes of life or
joy and aggression; my heart melting, it
seems life is ending for me; living death,
will there be redemption in expression?

Maybe; I’m trying to nail this self-version
down before, yet again, it changes into
another estranged mute version of me…

[Revised Wednesday 23 October 2019]

Destruction [Revised]

The Storm Troopers came -
destroyed pavilion, cloister,
waterfall, all bombed out of
existence; watched wanton
destruction as my mind lost
contact with reality - & their

volleys fired constantly and
head wounds are causing
such pain that miserable
despair takes over every-
thing, the attack continues;
I’m bound and gagged in

this prison, forced to watch
dismantling of my citadel -
everything I cherished lost;
mute I regard my torturers
as my life’s work goes up
in flames, sacrificed upon

the altar of hatred under a
cloak of efficiency; pain in
my heart and head such a
misery, but my tormentors
gleefully toast the demise
of the most beautiful part

of My Little Universe…

[3 August 2019]

Spiteful Ways

When the destructive forces of evil don white clothes
with iridescent wings and commit crimes of hate and
destruction, attacking relentlessly, in order to destroy
powers of goodness who uplift humanity with science
and technology, prolong human life and provide food
and prosperity and teach morality as honour - being
honest & truthful, doing our duty, being accountable,
take responsibility, love our neighbour as ourselves,

When those who do good things are tainted by the
bilious perspective of horrible creatures, grotesque
beings with jaundiced, jealous eyes who try to lead
all people astray & fill their hearts with spite – how
ever shall good overcome this hatred & destruction
planned by those filled with disgust for everything
high? The only way is to look behind all posturing
and discern the evil behind it; to ignore the hatred

And rejoice in honesty and truth…

[Tuesday 23 July 2019]

The Honesty of the American President holds up a mirror
in which the hatred and depravity of the Democrats are
completely unmasked; no longer can their spiteful ways
lead people with high ideals astray.

TOGETHERNESS

I delight in beautiful symbolism, in the
gifted imagination of authors who offer
descriptions of soulmates & states of
supernatural happiness in the blissful
union of exceptional souls in harmony

brought together by an unknown genial
destiny fulfilling a high duty with honour
and integrity; how admirable that human
beings conceive of such lofty - celestial
ideals in a universe where these things:

high honour & loving companionship;
do not exist or might seem to appear
as enticing mirages beckoning a puny
human to attempt recreating amazing,
grandiose camaraderie and explosive

…passion, glowing for ever in eternal…

…………TOGETHERNESS…………

[Tuesday 23 July 2019]

I’m Sorry To Say

I only believe in conspiracies I’d design myself my
bubbly colleague said - and sad I am to say, even
then, the conspiracy’s only in her head given that
I, the subject, didn’t try posing as Spanish expert
knowing two conjugations of the verb ‘to be’: ser
for ever & estar temporarily - and this is because

A nuclear reactor in my head melted my brain - it
burned learning capacity away; I can’t retain new
facts, preventing me from getting a senior post; I
can’t tell my delighted colleague or spoil her fun
while she’s an under-cover trouble-maker, dare I
force reality on her, diminish joy she emanates &

Shares so magnanimously? I’m guilty of a sin of
omission, not informing my cheerful friend there
won’t be a shock for boss, Mme la Pompadour,
who won’t find my name on an applicants list; &
why live with angry section-head’s enmity when
being the normal Public Servant creates a quiet

Work place atmosphere? My colleague will leave
next week, & I don’t want to face public windmill
fights with Mme Pompadour for a salary increase
normally vouch-saved for persons who can relay
Spanish lines in English terminology; and such a
category doesn’t include me, I’m sorry to say…

[Tuesday 23 July 2019]

Humanity's Dreams

Finally understood that nobody cares what I think
so I kept my opinions to myself - but silence cost
me a lot; felt dead inside as nothing was relevant,
now I’m reading again and indulging in the luxury
of reflecting & telling colleagues what I’m thinking

I listen to gifted young kids singing songs that the
Internet trolls call dynamite destroying the fabric
of society, nay, reality - what the heck - the whole
blooming universe - how can little tots be allowed
to trot on stage and sing a song and dance along

Without ethics and morality going down the drain
and the only people to gain is Simon Cowell and
evil cohorts of unscrupulous parents forcing their
tender offspring to suffer the pangs of fame and
fortune for a song and a dance; oh my, what fun

The same parents who fork out millions on fake
auditions where they’re told to buy lessons and
a portfolio just to discover it’s just another scam
in the name of Disney studios; on the very same
site reams of kids beg for an audition - although

The author repeatedly replies the site’s purpose
is to warn that fake auditions cost money, while
real auditions are free and lead to profit, not the
losses suffered by the gullible and unwary - but
to prove how inappropriate they are to become

Famous, the kids keep clamouring for auditions
on a site warning the public against the danger
of getting fleeced under the guise of auditions;
is there a way to protect the kids against them-
selves - obviously not when they refuse to read

The heading and introduction to a site, much
less heed warnings against getting taken for
a ride by the more imaginative entrepreneur
with no moral scruples to hinder destruction
of humanity’s dreams…

[Parents don’t push their offspring into the limelight
to make money off them as the Internet trolls say,
but try to make their children’s dreams come true
at great cost to themselves – often getting fleeced
in the process]

[Wednesday 10 July 2019]

Self-Proclaimed Critics

Oh, what travesty, oh abomination, not only does
the child sing better than before - she’s enjoying a
carefree youth participating in athletics and playing
hockey, taking music lessons – all during a normal
school day so she’s free to excel in academics and
do charity concerts and sing with every great name
in the music industry; while Mr Sour-Grapes frowns

Then hysterically proclaims he NEVER watches the
appearances of famous kids, acting or dancing and
of course, singing - his personal expertise; they are
incompetent, should be imprisoned - till old enough
not to steal the shine from older contestants – read
mediocre and boring and untalented wannabee’s –
I’m bored, so read the self-proclaimed critics making

Fools of themselves on public forums; they’re idiots,
I know, and should be ignored, but I’m so surprised
by their inability to concede with grace that they’ve
been cast as Salieri and not Mozart in life’s stakes,
prancing snobbishly, showing off bias & ignorance:
for shame, it’s the Internet experience, everybody
can rant and rave and who better than a mediocre

Opera singer to make a fool of themselves…

[Wednesday 10 July 2019]

Kallie Cat

A nightmare scenario in my head - Kallie Cat lost,
cold, hungry, thirsty, cold & suffering; now she is
dead and it’s my fault - her protector who did not
protect, left bereft: our tempestuous old blind cat

Who bit me as I checked whether her box on the
porch was warm and cosy enough, put my hand
in, she clamped shut, blood flowed, skin broken
in two places, and I was very angry, I confess

Decided no more mollycoddling, just left the little
demon feline alone & stopped tracking her every
move, when she was a nuisance I took her to a
sunny corner, never went to collect th’ little devil

In the end, assumed she’d be in her nest; but for
the first time she got lost, never made it back to
her den, next day found her little body floating in
the pool and now my heart’s broken; we admired

And loved the imperious little she-devil with her
voice like foghorn who kept us awake, woke us
early every day; nobody overslept where Kallie
reigned supreme; now only one sad picture left

The image of our aggressive cat-deity fatigued,
trying to find her way, getting lost waiting to be
rescued, miserable, feeling abandoned; I never
came & she struggled on, fell into the icy pool

She’s lost forever to a family who adored the
mythological proportions of her angry-cat self-
sufficiency…

[Wednesday 10 July 2019]

Voices Silky Smooth

An ugly old witch on the Internet comments
she’s a singing coach and music teacher and
opera diva to boot & how dare beautiful young
girls with voices silky smooth enter these talent
competitions and worse, how dare audiences
like them and let them win and allow them to
sing divine music reserved for the old and the
mediocre and classically trained with fog-horn
voices who sing a big orchestra into cowering,
the audience must go listen to them – MUST
listen to these trained singers – so I did and
they sound awful; Why, the jealous old coach
laments, do people like ethereal voices when
they have fog-horns at their disposal – I’ll tell
you why, Mistress Mediocre: because the old
foghorns sound awful! while an Amira sounds
lovely; the old coach continues in sackcloth &
ashes: How dare she raise her voice, I predict
spitefully – and mean it as curse and prophecy–
that she will lose her voice to show that singing
high notes is reserved for foghorn divas, it’s not
a choice for the young, but a vocation only to be
enjoyed by the trained who’ve lost all ability for
interpretation, all beauty & talent through over-
training; thus the ugly old witch tries to cast an
evil spell; but the angels are lithe and fast and
keep the young princess of Music safe...

[Amira Willighagen sings beautifully] 

[Tuesday 9 July 2019]

No More Introspection

For a few wonderfully sweet moments, I felt
the elation of virtuous preparation printing a
new 161 page document & while numbering
pages carefully, preparing a file to keep 'em
in: but, time to start the job; I hesitate while
treasuring expectations of a new work ethic

Without boredom of cold reality - or lack of
interest in Dutch court documents marring
an ideal-beauty-perspective debating if I’d
seek mystic guidance endowing moments
with more meaning, or to try finding music
sublime enhancing the usually bland office

Atmosphere with aesthetics not inherent in
office lore: wondering why singing voices
seem to screech “Think Of Me” (Phantom
of the Opera), so maybe our mood colours
perspective such that quality of art & music
keeps changing as we laugh & frown - but

No more introspection: time to dive in the
icy water of Dutch legal documents, turn
today into a dark hole swallowing meaning
until only sadness, loss and tragedy is left

[Thursday 4 July 2019]

Dark Mental Abyss

Definitely have a Nuclear Reactor
in my system, embracing a bottle
of frozen water to cool down after
a power surge marked by purplish
red-skin indicated radiation burns

And this bumbling bureaucratic life
where malicious compliance deems
to be the only survival strategy since
all others rate as irrational - & I turn
to Camille Saint-Saëns, to seek the

Elusive feeling of relevance - mind
lost and far removed from practical
considerations or positive endings,
now the nuclear meltdown is over
and I feel comfortable enough -

But my head’s empty, this moment
offers no redress: only the music in
my earphones swirls in psychedelic
patterns which create a new reality
without meaning - and I’m floating

On waves formed by grey streams
shimmering with occasional rays of
bright sunlight shining through the
inner darkness, thus momentarily
relieving this dark mental abyss…

[Tuesday 25 June 2019]

Rekindled Old Passions [Revised]

At home for five emotion-filled days - altho
alone, no-one to talk to because the family
and friends disinterested in feelings about
nuclear disasters & music; thus a return to
work heart overflowing, I tell Hanlie about
Chernobyl’s Nuclear Tragedy ‘mini-series’

With scientist Valery Legasov, who needed
commit suicide to ensure the survival of his
account of Soviet nuclear secrecy, & which
led to previous accidents repeated because
reactor design flaws were classified so that
Soviet authorities created the fatal accident

Even tho nuclear destruction of a continent
was at stake - & all this juxtaposed with the
delight of listening to a wonderful voice who
sang Sancta Maria with that perfect control
I could reach only for a few seconds when I
used to sing; my soul was set free by these

Sweet celestial sounds - what magic this is
rejuvenating jaded feelings & rekindling old
passions for music in melodious expression
of rhythm and tone within notes - where the
heart explodes as these divine sounds rise
in such emotional perfection unto heaven

[Wednesday 19 June 2019]

We Can But Marvel

The Right Honourable Reverend is a benevolent
autocratic king reigning over subjects grateful for
his advice, wise counsel, charity work & inspiring
sermons on religious doctrines from great books
about being godly; his consort, The Queen, is a
intelligent, long-suffering office worker by day

After work she becomes an entrepreneur for their
monarchy and friends with all the mothers in her
kingdom - her revered counsel sought & adored;
their Castle is a refuge for any wandering family,
visiting monarchs and friends - what a lovely, but
taxing & exhausting existence! Since esteemed

social graces of The Aristocracy are required to
live such a full life, we can but marvel at the joy
and success of our local Reverend…

[Thursday 25 April 2019]

Serving The Con Men [Rev]

It used to sound right: the mind’s a Cathedral,
the silence in my mind with just a monologue
delivered in different voices, only one speaker
changing tone and mien – made it seem true

Then someone said the body’s not a holy relic
to be preserved, but a fun-fair ride on a merry-
go-round, fun to be enjoyed, it won’t last long,
even if held sacred and revered; so then this

Sounds so much more logical, though having
hosted a cathedral-mind with doom & gloom,
striving for unattainable improvement leading
to despair, I wish to join the Vaudeville of Life

The preternatural silence in a cathedral-mind
is deadly; fatal judgment and rejection of one-
self, distrust of the life-impulse and the need
for happiness – I no longer subscribe to the

Creed that life is misery, a long walk back to
some perfect beginning in a high moral state
of goodness; today I believe the only goal of
life is to LIVE and ENJOY, not to hide from it

Being a ghastly human’s depicted as a grave
sin by Religion & committing momentous sins
illustrate their point, judging people unlovable,
rejecting humanity as sinful vermin; religion is

A front for taking power & money from their
duped subjects - atoning for the temerity of
their existence - defiling the earth with their
sinful presence; a con-game for those who

Use this ruse to subject their fellow human
beings and live a life of ease on the backs
of superstitious masses who accept false
teaching for a promise of redemption and

Joy upon death, after serving the Con Men

[Wednesday 24 April 2019]

No Beginning [Revised]

Everything must have a beginning - I’m so sure of it,
its causality’s first rule: the Genesis leading to a first
step. But I can’t find today’s beginning or the project
on my desk - their starting points are clearly missing

I’m typing but it’s a mess because I’m unconnected,
and unhinged; it’s standalone, meaningless activity
because I can’t find any logical precedence, & thus
I remain bereft, cut-off from everyone & everything

Although I try to read & type it feels as if nothing is
happening & it doesn’t matter what I do, there’s no
feeling, reality is gone in this mirage - this chimera,
I’m unable to register anything beyond this terrible

Pressure in my head: there is no prelude - just this
emptiness: my husband spoke, colleagues related
anecdotes, I remember seeing dogs being naughty
and planes with pirate parts falling from the sky. It

rained when I woke - I recall a report with numbers
listed obtained by surveillance - I wonder where all
meaning went as I can’t recall a single, meaningful
item - it is all drained, reality is filtered away - only

Calm, quiet and silence reigns, jumping in before
establishing a starting point must have led to this…

[Tuesday 23 April 2019]

My Slothful Life [Rev]

Can I give an account of my slothful life? It has the
Madame La Pompadour staying home because her
teeth are falling out, bus driver Maverick speeding
away from a running me - too late at 2:35 to catch

A quarter to 3 bus - all air-con’s set on HOT so my
fan works overtime - we will evaluate tenders from
providers who’ll never get a job with a government
demanding absurdly inflated bribes for every task

On Air Crash Investigation - 6 pilots suiciding, and
taking non-consenting passengers with them. Aha -
here I breathe out: a guru’s claim every death’s
a consented suicide, only people subconsciously

agreeing will have been on those planes, all those
wanting to live will have cancelled, or got delayed -
if you believe in free will, the guru said, you must
have free will EVERYWHERE - or NONE at all

If we all consent to life’s events & afterwards even,
it gives me courage to go on and I’ll not debate this,
just enjoy the freedom in my heart - freed the pain
of being bound, I feel so happy being here -

In my office at this time…

[Wednesday 10 April 2019]

Laughing Spitefully [Rev]

Those office fools have gone and done it - firstly
the chillers worked too well, we froze, & officials
complained, but did the Air-Con Gods heed cries
for rationality? Not at all. They got bored with the
crowds clamouring for sanity, turned up the heat
by a full six degrees - that is from 20 to 26℃, &

Laughing spitefully, watched humanity suffering
in the heat, switching on fans & removing winter
attire. Thus we debated if we could destroy the
Air-Con Gods, take over controls ourselves and
turn them back to NORMAL, then we could live
a happy life - why must we dwell in Hell like this

Why did idiots decree There Shall Be Only One
Temperature for a building where heat changes
all over and the latitude & longitude determines
any play-out between heat & cold; let us slay all
swarthy Air-Con Gods - and be forever freed of
their evil designs!

[Wednesday 10 April 2019]

Banishing Ennui (Storytelling Loups)

Red Riding Hood watching the rain doing a drizzling
ballet to thunder-rolling outside and pulling her grey
Rain Queen kaross o’er freezing knees – warm in a
red top as a character in a ‘conte de fée’ while a shy
Queen’s dancing more rain with shining bangles

The Queen delights in songs proclaiming her fame
in a dry land of golden sunsets with purple clouds
where people pray for rain to survive and right now
Petit Chaperon Rouge’s listening to stories told by
colleagues, scattering thoughts once confined to

A text on exporting crocodiles which should have
filled my universe - these office-wolves destroying
what little willpower I had for working on important
words; the incessant flow is banishing th’ requisite
ennui that helps a mind to concentrate: it’s good

These story-telling Loups devour the conscientious
mood of Petit Chaperon Rouge - leading her astray
to flower-picking in a dell where fairies dwell…

[kaross: a blanket made of animal skins]

Wednesday 10 April 2019

Story-Telling Loups

Red Riding Hood sitting at her desk with sleeting rain
a slow ballet outside, thunder rolling, pulling my grey
Rain Queen kaross over freezing knees, my bright red
top a childish delight in a “conte de fée” where the shy
Queen’s rattling shining silver bangles under the grey

kaross of rain - softly laughing while listening to songs
of joy in a land of golden sunsets & purple clouds where
people pray for rain to save their lives, listening to stories
as colleagues exclaim, a strong force scattering thoughts:
a text on crocodile skins filling my universe as my work

For today with wolves in the office swallowing Red Riding
Hood’s time, their cheery chirpiness banishing crocodile
boredom as Petit Chaperon Rouge delights in the story-
telling Loups…

[Kaross: in South Africa, a blanket
made of animal skins]

[Friday, 5 April 2019]

Mind Contracting

No sleep, brain awake under an unknown chemical and now
I’m an eighty-year old with severe dementia, the only concept
of strength is sleep seeking oblivion, I fumble at my desk and
can’t lift my head, waves of fatigue washing over me & I drink
coffee just to understand all my colleagues’ cheerful bantering

Hallucinating I jump up in acute embarrassment, hastily I pour
coffee in my frozen drink before trying to track down Maverick
bus-driver who kept my purse for me, to hand him a promised
cool-drink in thanks - while knowing I might have to walk eight
blocks to another stop if his bus doesn’t come – compressed

My brain contains no joy I can’t escape this suffering - mind
contracting till the pressure is unbearable - still this moment
in time continues unabatedly as my ability to escape myself
is destroyed by lack of serotonin - how does one overcome
when there’s nothing one can do to pass the time &change

The grid of lightning pain contracting in one’s head, and how
does one remain calm when one’s mind’s exploding in white
hot lava spurting from one’s head, leaving nothing but stupid
regression in its wake?

[Tuesday 26 March 2019]

Peace And Joy I Crave

The Lord and Master of the Crocodile Castle turned
his back on reality - can’t accept he’s not in control,
wisdom is to bend to the inevitable but it’s foreign to
his autocratic mind as he tries to manage me & the
crocodile kids, but we’re human beings which means

our minds are gossamer strands without governing &
thus the Lord’s going mad without anybody stopping
him; our attempts to make him see reason’s doomed
even before we begin, life’s turning in a circle while
my life is shrunk to a bus driver being on time - and

translations done correctly, for the rest I discovered
Vampire Dairies, the numbing effect of imagination
creating a surreal world draining all feeling from the
real world without offering solutions as vampires of
the mind drain reality & release the reading victims

without help, without explanation how to live life in
a different way - it simply shows fantasy remains
boundless & thus I decide to cultivate my mind to
survive life day-to-day by dreaming of the peace
and joy I crave…

[Monday 25 March 2019]

State Of Dreariness [Revised]

A guru claims there’ll always be pleasure in your mind -
yet some people have so little left we need escapism, or
hallucination to fill it’s pleasure deficit - today I’m calling
on Mozart to fill the blanks in my empty mind as I swing

between black outlines of reality, no colour or texture to
give meaning to what is happening with me - this lonely
office protagonist with just a boring list, & no company -
nobody to banter with & listen as I carp upon existence

Marie Antoinette permanently on the war-path means a
friendly pastor’s wife can’t be her kind-self, a Sword of
Separation poised over my head as Kissed-by-the-Sun
Fairy Sonnekus leaves in July, & thus I shall be left with

the querulous Queen and Hermien; already March & an
autumn-cool in noon & morning brings nostalgia - even
before the sad event - thus a sheen of sadness forms a
soft covering over everything, the world seems bleak &

unforgiving, happiness so fleeting, it deems a sacrilege
to give in to joy, & being cheerful to jolly people always
seems a charade offering the only respite from an inner
state of dreariness…

[Monday 25 March 2019]

Time To Go Home

The chillers came on in time to be too late: the heat was gone;
it’s raining and the oppressed in the office illegally switched on
heaters as I dug out my blanket, aircon repairs perfectly timed
to meet autumn’s cooler air head-on after an all-summer-long

break-down in an inverse correlation between cooling chillers
and cold weather - as supernatural as an orchestrated occult
phenomenon; babbling voices relate weekend events - a car
crash added to last week’s accidents and working in gardens,

washing cupboards & I also brag about laundering bathroom
rugs; Mme Pompadour didn’t come to the office as she has a
gash in her car, Marie Antoinette returned from leave relating
she helped her Sun King acquire a new painting; soon it’ll be

time to go home and I haven’t reached any translation goals:
looking forward to the brief enchantment of Pratchett’s Death
drinking alcohol as princess Keli is trying to sleep before her
coronation in an Elizabethan dress worn by English royalty

Though I achieved nothing today spending office-time sharing
life’s cameos was great fun - now if the bus would kindly be on
time I can sink into the travails of “Mort”, Death’s assistant - &
this day would become one more line in My Life’s Song…

Monday 11 March 2019

Elizabethan dress worn by princess Keli at her coronation

Chillers Not Working

“Dear Colleagues, We [who’s “WE”?] are aware the building
is extremely hot [has been for two month now, YOU make it
sound as if it’s been hot only since yesterday!]

“Chillers not working, aircon is off [chillers NEVER work when
it’s hot, only when it’s cool outside] “Technicians on site [saw
them, since they started on Monday the problem grew worse,
isn’t that just most remarkable and wonderful?]

“Please note once problem has been fixed, it takes 2-3 hours
for building to cool down [It will be cool for about one day - if
at all, before the chilled Children of Africa BLOCK the aircon
outlets then chillers immediately break down again]

Why don’t you build a nice big round hut with a big fire in the
centre so the Children of Africa can have their computers on
the periphery in a nice big circle - to stay warm while chatting
and living a happy life? - Then we idiots who feel the warmth

Of Africa as HEAT can have another round hut with an aircon
in the middle with chillers working, cool behind our computers
chatting and enjoying our workaday life?] - “We would like to
apologise for the discomfort and inconvenience.” [So get on

With it, this message doesn’t constitute an apology at all, we
are stuck in the heat losing consciousness from time to time,
no oxygen, no work satisfaction because we can’t think - no
fulfilment, living “sleeping sickness” in African time]

[Van Wyk Louw Building camouflaged as Sechaba House,
Madiba Street in Tshwane-Pretoria-Dingaanstad, Azania,
Mzanzi, erstwhile South Africa]

[Friday 8 February 2019]

My Only Fun [Revised]

I’m privileged, don’t have any real problems, sitting
in a dim office where lighting creates heat because
air-con doesn’t work & with a dim computer screen,
complaining about a bus not arriving while trying to
type long numeric lists - but time is standing still &
colleagues come & go: I know how lucky I am to

Be healthy and reasonably sane, passably rational
& to have almost enough common sense - so why
am I so dissatisfied? Ah, the answer is eating pop-
corn and butter chicken; being allergic those foods
put my brain out of whack - and now I am a wreck
and the damage is in my head, my mind’s a blank

My only fun is to visualise Judge Judy on TV with
an automatic assault rifle; when those idiots lie &
claim they’d no responsibility - I would don Judge
Judy’s garb and open fire on all refusing to admit
the truth of their guilt and wrong-doing; and I also
imagine being Father Brown sweetly extracting a

Long knife from my cassock to strike down every
hostile policeman, & Bishop, who dared call me a
meddling sleuth who must stay out of these crime
scene in the TV series - I see myself pedalling to
charge down the street on Father Brown’s bicycle
leaving just a lightning streak - but no, here I am

List waiting to appear on my computer screen and
popcorn stuck between my teeth - boredom is the
word to define this time-privileged moment I am in
but a better way to be is living a short but exciting
life - this long drawn-out repetitive routine is such
a bore today…

Life Is Charmed

Non-stop watching television last night - my eyes
refused to close reacting to something in the food
or air; watching the Healer heal with energy, the
tiger mantis shrimp breaking into action at speed
such that the water boils - the common octopus
suffocating an attacking shark & sea cucumbers
blooming with ten tentacles feeding continuously

like my own propensity to munch all day long;
wild bridezilla’s buying two wedding dresses
before hunting for a third & parading in layers
of tulle for their innumerable wedding retinues,
Disney Channel Binny and the Ghost chasing
bullies at school; Sabrina the Teenage Witch,
Agatha Christie’s ABC Murder series, the soft-

spoken actors whispering so genteelly I can’t
hear what’s going on and Father Brown in my
favourite show with his black bicycle – our cat
scratching the front door loudly - seemed like
imminent criminal attack until I constructed a
makeshift wall to keep the noisome creature
out; today I’m Quasimodo, a hunchback with

swollen eyes, waiting to don a jihadist cap and
fluttering in a wet towel like a blue Fledermaus
to the bus stop, safe against the sun, reading
my favourite book on the bus, arrive at home
tired & hungry where my pensioner husband
shares his latest schemes for domestic bliss
‘ere I install myself in front of the TV to watch

another plane crash mystery – to summarise,
my life is charmed - like a lovely dream….

[Wednesday 6 February 2019]

Imitate Hypocrisy

Colleagues extolling Protestant and Calvinist business ethics
and material morality creating wealth while improving health –
thus praising a former regime’s higher standards establishing
a successful society in Africa – they forget that the glittering
material edifice was founded on the spiritual rot and decay of
oppression which was justified and glorified by false religion

Hypocrites discriminating on the basis of appearance – I do
not care for the society that was destroyed when we elected
President Mandela for South Africa - the accomplishments
and snobbery of an immoral society have no merit when it’s
based on exploitation – wait, I hear you say, but that is the
way of ALL politicians globally – yes, it is true; but at least

The new interracial nation extends opportunity for power &
corruption to everyone, not only the light-skinned few and
having equal opportunity to do right or wrong is so much
more just than the elite usurping all corrupt practices them-
selves; a majority without rights were reduced to slavery -
do not wonder that these slaves, when finally set free,

Do not understand material and spiritual morality as they
adopt the corrupt practices of their former oppressors and
imitate their hypocrisy so faithfully!

[Wednesday 6 February 2019]

Friendships And Freedom [Revised]

Never go back - never return to stifling injustice
of the past; hypocrisy and false saintliness of a
national church using religion to subdue people,
subvert their natural generosity, force them into
corsets of conformity; FREEDOM is something

Too wonderful to cede and I’d rather perish in a
stream of free people than abide in stifling air of
a fake nobility; I love MIXED groups: monotony
of one culture, one vernacular, is so grey & one-
dimensional, so BORING in extreme, & anguish

With despair of dispossessed too painful to use
as criteria for a life of privilege; the potpourri of
wild South Africa’s pendulum-swing between a
dark past, the red-hot presence of blood, & the
beckoning future of freedom to be whoever you

Are irrespective of colour, culture & background,
intoxicates - thus the air sparkles, a silver & gold
sun glows, skies cloud with heady expectation; I
love this - freed from my childhood world which
glowered with red anger, soaked in black despair

The new conservative right cannot hold me, the
friendships and freedoms, joys of liberty, are too
delightful to ever concede again…

“Transnational white supremacists are feeding off and
leveraging their own political agendas at the expense of
South Africa’s uniquely diverse population.”
“I would rather go down than survive in injustice”. The
injustice being the violent oppression and dispossession
of the black majority.

[Thursday 31 January 2019]

A False Ideal

I am calm, content - breathing easier, and
agreeing to get along with everyone in my
group by condoning their views, accepting
a general consensus that this little place, &
the things we do, is all there is: translating

lines by police seeking Dulcie September’s
murderer who shot her in France to stop
ANC from ruling South Africa - & today we
salute effective State capture by a corrupt
ANC who steal from the poor to give to the

politically-associate, exceptionally-rich; quiet
and peace is all my desire, agreeing with the
powers that be, getting along with colleagues
‘cause the only purpose of life is living in joy,
whilst fighting against odds is useless pain

achieving nothing: discovering that a happy
me is an arrogant being who is unwelcome
where-ever she is, while a resigned me with
nothing to say lives in peace without undue
suffering, agreeing we’re nothing in a grand

scheme of being where liberty’s a false ideal…

[Tuesday 29 January 2019]