Finding Happiness [REVISED]

Though he can’t stand my chatting I know my
husband loves me - and my colleague is kind,
though she thinks I’m a brain dead idiot; such
is life, a game of pros & cons, the only way to
love is to be respectful - keeping a distance
from everybody is the only way to survive life 

Expecting nothing, offering affection & kind-
ness, trusting those we love to reciprocate a 
bit of communication, trying to offer a tiny bit
of understanding in return - finding happiness
in abstract ideals: Wisdom, Honesty, Love
unconditional – no clauses or demands

And no ultimatums, for me delight lies in the
return to favourite books, continuing the very
fulfilling analysis of people to be able to live in
peace with them: knowing that the Lord and
Master of the Crocodile Castle is a Scorpion
with a sting in his tail & my colleague will

Never regard me a normal human being since
I present myself as the crocodile who cannot
hop to another watering hole - while my inner
Ice Princess offends wherever she goes; thus
in knowing all this it’s  possible to get along
with all - whether they know me or not…

Talking In Chirrups

Have you ever listened to a group of adults talking
to a baby in goo-goo-speak, the kind that makes you
wish to hit the idiots with a stick till they never make
another gurgling sound again – any group of people
who follow a guru and develop their own jargon run
the risk of starting to sound like this, more so when
the group starts a site on the Internet

When I found a group rolling in syrup and talking in
chirrups - claiming they follow one of my favourite
guru’s, it was ridiculous - it makes sense that friends
of these clowns warn against the guru - but it’s not the
leader who is at fault, it is these darn idiots who make
a mockery of every common-sense thing - I never join
the disciples of any speaker or trend

As people flocking in groups can make a travesty of
anything – creating a language that points out their
shortcomings – my advice is read anything, evaluate
everything and keep your own counsel to the end….

A Caramel Centre

My weekend sins – eating chocolate-fudge ice-cream,
cupcakes with a caramel centre and marinated chicken
wings – reduced me to a catatonic robot, just a perfect
match for Marvin the paranoid android - while so many
words replay in my head - such as malapropism and

Mixed metaphors, upper or lower case for Achilles heel
and Herculean tasks, so hair-splitting is the right way to
describe editing, proof-reading a more normal job when
two people compare a finished text with its original –
still, it’s strange work since there is no metaphysical

Result, only joy in the process - I doubt whether my
restive mind would allow such a static life – yet I’m
older now - might be able to ignore the inner voice,
today more rational I see my beloved did not call me
ugly when he took me task for spending money on

Non-essentials, I projected my own dissatisfaction
with the last course day on him - I missed my black
camouflage so much, my undercover persona would
not remain in the background like my favourite Disc 
World character, Granny Weatherwax

[4 August 2014]

Quasimodo Or The Snow Queen [REV.]

I’ve no funds of my own - so if I buy something
like sandals to not go barefoot your fury knows
no bounds; you’re livid as shoes will be bought
in consultation after months of deliberation and
only at shops you approve

Bought T-shirts illegally, received gifts of floral
tops that are like sacks making me seem odd;
you say ‘wear only invisible colours like black
or grey, white attracts the eye, it doesn’t help
hide anything, grey’s the way’ - & just then I

Recall I’m ugly & stupid as well as penniless
but can’t complain, sold my soul for this; you
taking care of everything: home budget & its
management, groceries, kids, and university;
I respect your great skill & uniqueness, won’t

Interfere, & since it seems the required thing,
I’ll cede my credit card, living on your funding
which is enough; & realising how dwarf-like I
look, a trollishly limited intelligence and holy
Golems’ words in my head; Terry Pratchett

said it thus, can’t contemplate anything that
goes against ingrained text locked in there;
let me wait until anger abates, forget I’d the
temerity to consider you humble me in front
of the kids, you humiliate them in front of me

But it doesn’t matter, your munificence makes
heart bruises just irrelevant; let me watch TV,
the hat I bought triggering your ire will vanish
to the office and there’s nothing you can do
about it – it’s a paradise for me: I’ll become

Quasimodo or be the Snow Queen - oh, but
emotions are such stupid things! The Snow
Queen has no truck with ‘em while poor old
Quasimodo suffers them silently…

Never Cried About It All [REVISED]

Used to live in this area - it unleashes
icy memories of anxious meaningless
being, loneliness without warmth -

Open fields and caress of the air,
view to the distant CBD - here feeling
chemically depressed I grew up in a

wee existence sprinkled with books
of delight leaving me dizzy through
bipolar experiences, confusing me

Living within a structured despair -
look at me today, calmly arriving at
the editing and proofreading class

Feelings discretely sent to the back
of my mind where no havoc can be
created - quietly accepting my role

In life, magnificent to be at ease with
whom I am, unthinkable when I was
small without balance to keep me

Upright as life rolled over me, and
I never cried about it all - not until
much later in life…

Train Sanitized

Train sanitized, NO clickety-clack, shhhh the
small rocket went, horrible seats and people
enclosed like fish in a tin, no excitement, the
magic all gone, a small seat, a sanitized ride
so boring it feels like death, no romance with
railways left, no space in which to be a person
just a cardboard figure in an emptiness without
meaning or life, oh, what I would give for the
clickety-clack, clickety-clack, I HATE train
sanitized, I had to run up the down-escalator
to get to the right platform – if that horrible
dark passage with blue lights can be graced
with such a beautiful term….

[2 August 2014]

King Of The Universe

Brilliant course, of course I made a mess in the
end: train, bus to be at the my daughter’s studio
before walking down to the venue to attend the
Linnegar Basic Copy Editing and Proofreading
Class for a certificate - late on Friday - to find

My daughter being late for a shoot; my beloved
starving at home - staring at the Food Channel
so I could feel remorse at my having delighted
in life - purple shirt and scarf - telling various
publishing houses representatives how much

Fun bureaucratic government service was - all
claimed it would kill them to work for the State,
I explained it was heaven on earth because even
breathing was declared illegal - thus life itself
became a special privilege - I felt just like

Pratchett’s Wen, The Eternally Surprised, on seeing
the beauty of cherry blooms forever on the brink of
blooming into life – symbolic of my dreams – being
Cinderella forever - never getting to the ball – never
meeting a fairy godmother to turn my life around

Just dreaming of turning my sweet little daughter’s
life around by making it possible for her to meet the
future King of the Universe…

[1 August 2014]