Ten Minutes After and End

TEN MINUTES AFTER

Ah, ten minutes after my lamenting the hernia fate
the GP called, catching up at the end of the day, he
says it’s to be fixed by a surgeon, tomorrow I get the
report to start calling his office, my son laughing and
pulling my leg

His dad understood my earlier lament, now the ball is
rolling, time to do something about the hernia, started
when my son was ten, never told his parents while he
felt it, a small kid living in fear of cancer – if only he had
told us before – no harm done

As long as we can have it fixed, I am so glad - now
I can dance a jig!


WHERE IS THE END?

I am depressed and have no reason to be,
just a small operation after taking a sonar
my son’s hernia is to be fixed, so why do
I feel so restless; the GP promised to call

Of course he did not - I tried to translate
Interpol messages, found most of it so in-
comprehensible, no rational faculties left,
cannot express emotions, if I have any

How does one pass the time until it is clear
a beloved child is fine? - I think one has to
trust as directing attention to a desired out-
come will bring it about; but what of the time

Passing between the desire for his well-being
and his life being fine & tonight we can’t do
anything about it at all, time insists to stand
still; I KNOW he shall be healthy in the end

But all I ask is - where is the end?

Abandoned (Revised)

I am a machine, replaying in French an
expression of English synonyms so bare
of feeling my mind empties, spirit dissolves,
soul absconds; my chair contains an empty
shell of dark despair

I hope my spirit returns, soul again whole
after retrieving scattered fragments from
ends of the earth, I am so lonely without
feelings - utter loneliness remains the only sensation,
a curtailed sensory event, an

appearance without emotional investment
abandoned at the outer layer of life, no access
to warmth of feeling and meaning inside

May Her Dreams Be

Mother falling asleep in her chair while
writing Bible verses in a journal for hours,
face buried in her book, claiming to sleep
well at night but unable stay awake during
the day, falling asleep during meals

May her dreams be sweet, accompanied by
music she made everywhere she went, may
her last hours of repose be filled with
wonderful memories and the fire in her
spirit burn ever brighter with time

May the broken hip heal or remedies be
intimated - may certainty of life everlasting
fill her with joy as the physical body finds
it difficult to support a spark of life, may
she share the wonder of existence

With her loved ones on earth until the last
moment of her consciousness in this
dimension, may she be deliriously happy
when she discovers the myriad universes
that make up the eternal inifinity

Of non-physical life everlasting…

Imaginative Additions

When feeling ‘happy’ as in
content, self-confident and
justified, we can work well

When feeling ‘unhappy’ – dis-
comfort, self-doubt, being un-
wanted - we can’t do anything

All activities which exclude
imaginative additions are
repetitive and boring

While things which give free
rein to the imagination seem
very interesting and enhance

Ability and work capacity…

Burying My Head

My system cannot process maize which I ate
yesterday, today I feel like crying and burying
my head under a blanket - it makes sense why
my ancestors, the dinosaurs, died out trying to
survive on a diet of wheat and maize

Dinosaurs probably committed suicide under the
deep depression caused by food intolerance - I
can’t prove this, but the compression in my head
is terrible so I become irresponsible – usually this
absurd idea makes me laugh, but

Nothing works right now, a breakfast of oily fries and
a thousand year old Frankfurter which the Wimpy
must have dug out of the tundra only worsened
the situation, no pill helps, I must suffer the con-
sequences of my wild indulgence

The food allergy takes all my energy, no wonder
I never get around to doing the really interesting
stuff by which other people entertain themselves!

Work Poems 3 January 2012

1. FIRST THOUGHTS

First morning back, holiday eyes strain through multifocals
which will not focus on a widescreen, work email won’t open,
password can’t be changed, no access to G-drive documents,
clearly some ‘me’-time here

Time to reorganise papers and drawers, fill in 2012 diary,
get ready for the Maya’s predicted end, should their
calendar be right – I sincerely doubt this as doomsday
prophecies have horrible tendencies to be wrong

Hunger pangs remind me I am far from my kitchen,
cannot make pancakes with cinnamon, sugar and lemon,
sudden cold shock realising I am once again at the
mercy of fast-food restaurants –

Oh woe is me, the only joy in life left the elderly, eating,
becomes a fight for survival whereas at home it is a
24 hour delightful pastime!


2. GODS FAVOURED ME

Heat – no air-con today – realising France’s dream of
saving their coastline due to the Greenhouse effect,
went for a lunch-break stroll singing all the way,
refusing to contemplate office problems

The gods favoured me on my first day, email connection
restored, now I am so privileged to read criticism of the
work I did before leaving on holiday, I am still girdling
my loins with positive thoughts

Before tackling heartbreaking rejection of words I wrote,
New Year’s Resolution: never face today what can be
deferred to tomorrow, stop and smell the roses, I can
read nasty remarks any time

The mere fact of having an office in which to be miserable
is such a source of joy and delight, not to be spoilt with
feelings of inadequacy; why cry about the humours of
those in charge trying to convince me I am

A disaster because I cannot write the words they dictate,
cannot march to the tune they prescribe, kept in my place
by them changing their translation rules every day - I am
thankful that I can still think and feel after years

As a civil servant, I should have turned into a cyborg ages
ago, yet the incessant stream of criticism proves I am still
the same human I was at the beginning – people like me
cannot be changed into robots

No matter how much criticism is directed our way, olé!


3. CYBORG-ROBOTIC MODE

Checking the work I did in cyborg-robotic mode, though I
resemble Marvin the Paranoid Android more than Arnold
Schwarzenegger’s character in Terminator, pleased with
the lack of mistakes, the cold work of a true civil servant,
sans mind, sans reason, sans feelings

This brilliant document a testament to a human being’s
ability to exist like a vegetable, joyfully restricted to its
own phenomenology as preached by Zen Buddhists -
not asking for meaning, no existential question, a way
of being totally happy advocated by those

Seeking such blissful existence; though it is peaceful, it
is also absolutely boring, my unwilling submission to this
system only proves we are destined for a passionately
emotional universe, we serve in penitence for survival
to eat, drink, dress and sleep - but in non-physical

Where consciousness continues unabated, we shall be
free to experience feeling intense - as physical reality
will no longer dicate every mental step we take
along the way…

Probability Curves

The lovely little antichrist, Adam Young, says at the
end of ‘Good Omens’ by Pratchett - if he declences
Armageddon and the Apocalypse and the forces of
hell defeats humankind calling down the wrath of
the heavenly hosts

Only one gang would be left and soon its members
would fight each other: the only way to peace is for
all life to cease and who wants that? Adam defeats
the four horsemen cum motorbikers, of the Apo-
calypse; continues his lovely life

Discovering the delights of this universe with variety
infinite - a myriad opinions - all different, enriching,
any Doomsday Prophecy merely wishful thinking
on the side of fanatic fundamentalists who want
to dominate one victorious gang

It is impossible in this quantum universe, probablitiy
curves create fields of possibility - no prediction is
guaranteed, no end-of-world threat carries final
authority, no single creed can ever claim final
victory – we are free, Free, FREE!

“You cannot kill everybody who doesn't agree with you,
if you kill enough you'll soon be down to just you guys
disagreeing with each other… you can never get to where
you want to be by pushing against what you don’t want”
[Quoted from Abraham and Esther Hicks]

“Good Omens” Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman - Main
character called Adam Young instead of Daimien, never
undergoes influences of Evil Nanny and Hell Hound be-
cause the demon placed on earth to lead him into sub-
jecting the earth to the devil, lost track of him immediately
after his birth; he was raised as a rural happy-go-lucky
English boy who enjoys playing Spanish Inquistition and
dreams about the strange phenomena of Charles Fort and
wonders about spontaneous human combustion; a whole
universe of discovery waiting for him, he will have
no truck with world destruction!