Listen To These (Cor.)

During my swerving, adrenaline-filled,
road-hogging drive home the bright radio
announcer happily imparted useless facts
like rice grows at night when Beethoven's
Moonlight Sonata is played, but when mice
listened to him they attacked each other -
when Mozart was played they grew more
intelligent in navigating treadmills - this
made sense to me because I listen

To these composers also, Beethoven's piano
sonata makes me very mad starting so sweetly
just to work up to intense fury, much worse than
my bad book rant building murderous intent in me,
the pianist suddenly attacks the piano, then starts
to falsely lure listeners into almost calm passages
in between - and explosions working up a crave to
kill everyone in my vicinity - attacking all while
shouting madly - give me a beautiful Bach

A Harpsichord Concerto - or Chopin's Marche
Funeral beginning with a dark first part, pall-
bearers marching with a corpse, on to the next
with notes in twinkling strings to illustrate the
spirit's sweet release & ascension unto heaven or
the astral dimension - - by severing the sparkling
silver cord, transporting us all into out-of-body
experiences; then pall-bearers return

Still marching heavily, music growing louder as
wind pelts them with rain - drenching their grey
attire, music growing darker as they infuse a little
fire by sharing a strong drink to spur them on and
drop the coffin in the grave, then they leave taking
another swig each - to face the elements - as
the music slowly fades like a long-ago mirage
leaving only sadness in its place…

Every Particle Is Alive

 My second book makes me angry and sad
at the same time, with Internet off there’s no
escape from the facts and I’m powerless to
change the world, this makes me hate - but
two negatives never make a positive

And it’s too late, the world stage is set and all
that’s left is meditation changing the world sub-
atomically, influencing the quarks by attentive
consciousness, since the world is a continuum
what happens to 1 particle is simultaneously

Experienced by ALL the others, therefore I shall
dry my tears, turn my attention to the intelligent,
loving electrical energy that creates all-that-is –
infinite dimensions & parallel universes; I shall
direct my love to the T-junction in the trousers

Of time where the universe splits and continue
to the world where love prevails over hate and
the whole world is redeemed, people choosing
to live green, forge spades from arms and till the
earth, tend the mineral and biological wealth of

That particular Earth, realising every particle is
alive within Universal Consciousness…

Read At Your Peril

Finally I realise the value of editing, after

a lifetime spent hating this kind of thing - 

believing in al-fresco printing and spur of

the moment translation; I've read a book

whose editor was suffering from amnesia,

Parkinson’s, even schizophrenia, though

it’s more probable the real problem is the

author is a psychopath - thus he tortures

readers with psychotic editors; whatever

The author takes fiendish delight in hurting

the reader, the editor forgets what he reads

so does not take out the infinite repetitions,

after stating his case, a new point is added

then the case is restated, just one new fact

added then he restates his case again - ad

infinitum - assuming only idiots would read

him - given his subject and my colleagues’

superior demeanour on seeing my book…

He’s probably right and I’m just such a fool,

and then, in a final thrust to destroy the last

shreds of a reader’s self-control, he repeats

his 10 points at the end of the book - again!

but strong as I am; a steam locomotive has

nothing on me once I’m going, I tackled his

2^nd book immediately, interest in the subject

overriding a myriad irritations with repetitive

text, just to plunge to new depths of despair:

The author summarises his whole first book

of course! NOW I’M SHOUTING, forgive me,

I’ll edit this as soon as anger simmers down,

hell hath no fury than avid readers assaulted

by a psychopath author who demotes us to

the status of utterly lost mental cases! - I rest

my case, when I find an editor I’ll get this rant

shortened, repetitions deleted; but right now I

can only warn intrepid readers: Do Not Read

This Piece for fear of turning into me; burning

in righteous fury about this unedited piece!

Reader Beware, Read At Your Peril!

Cosy Dim Lair

A soft dim light in my cave as
more lights are switched off
to cool down this space and
save power to boot, the one
perfect rose doubling as my
fairy top in scattered dreams

Psychedelic shine in symbolic
silver cords keeping the astral
tied to the mind; my little nest
is a mess after opening blinds
and taking down screens that
blocked the light which would

Make it possible to save mega-
watts - I never got to show the
Duchess my new white hat that
frames a face like old medieval
kitchen maids - as unexpected
changes of schedule led to my

Being unable to present her the
wine I prepared with such care,
the crystal mind symbol went to
my changeling child so Duchess
received no crystal awareness -
but now in my enchanted cave

In which time blooms in sheer
roses which are shining dreams
creating magic in my cosy dim
lair, flowers scattered among
mounts of papers and books, I'm
happy to be a Being of Light...

The Light Being

Tuesday, confusing, sinking – then the exciting
drive, several big trucks blocking my way, followed
the illegal taxi route, passed a red robot, swerving
across lanes, accelerating, the exhilarating highway,
peak traffic, preparing salad for dinner – suddenly
you remembered to show me the books came

Ordered for my birthday - from being stuck in Merde
I became a Light Being, taking flight into a dimension
of delight - you ordered these books express from far–
off America to South Africa in the blink of an eye; I’m
floating above life still rising because you’re an angel –
I knew you to be one when we first met - but life

Made me forget; now you have proven yourself again
and I’m singing and dancing - our little daughter, our
little Ariel mermaid girl who distrusts her Scorpio father
and suspects her crocodile mother, ran off complaining
while this crocodile is standing on her tail, so overjoyed,
feeling as if my crocodile body has changed into

The Light Being which reptilian dreams present to me…

In The Merde

In a spate of condescending kindness
Mme La Pompadour sent me a book,
something to read when the hot air in
the office become hours unending

Most obligingly I started reading but
found the prose not to my taste, sitting
in Purgatory the title - “In the Merde”-
is making things worse, makes me sad

Clenching two bottles with iced water
under each arm, oblivious to cold burn,
to cool down as temperature soars and
apologetic messages from desperate

Auxiliary Services assure us that our
bravery working in the heat of hell is
to our credit; problems with the air-con
are being solved; they’re working on it

I’m in the Merde today and nothing I
can do or say is making it better, even
Saint-Saëns’ Aquarium only makes me
cry, nothing can be done when it’s dark

In my heart, when I try to sing Gounod’s 
Ave Maria & find my vocal cords are too
short, my sense of timing is atrocious and
I can’t master pronouncing the Latin words

Nothing worked out except my translation,
a fellow claiming he wants to build a school
for happiness – making a profit and reclaiming
his dignity and joie de vivre as an Ivorian

Living in Algeria - sounds like he’s in the
Merde too and all I could do was relay his
French claims of existential pain in the
Queen’s English, I’m running from this place…

Her Special Gift & A Bit Over The Top

My twin sis, the Duchess, is coming for
a visit, want to get her a belated birthday
present and a few trinkets - my finances
in a bad state after my promising to help
my Little Prince with printing costs of his
notes typed in class - but I digress

Though I have to tell all that my work station
shines to Saint Saëns' Aquarium piano lines,
I'm so excited by the promised visit created by
the magic of my lilac fairy dress which became
a fairy top by tying petticoat and wrinkly upper
rose petals in knots, wearing it with rugby shorts

Oh dear, I'm actually a goblin in this - can't wait
to show the Duchess all my symbols for crystal
consciousness and tell her she has also passed
amphibian consciousness in childhood as illus-
trated by her being a haughty Duchess, I want
to explain how we attain light consciousness -

I think it entails physical death - but it's a moot
point, fact is we can become Light Beings and
visit other life planes & need never reincarnate
on earth again; hope she will enjoy the prospect
with me - must hurry, nearly lunch, a short break
to find the symbols I wish for her special gift -  

 A Bit Over The Top 

Returned with transparent silver container to
symbolise ego within crystal consciousness,
a silver and white bag for a bottle of white wine,
her favourite,  a blue umbrella cover for food to
be practical too, a beautiful rose shimmering
with pink glitter on the soft petal edges

This symbolises love and all things beautiful,
these small souvenirs will appeal to my sis –
tomorrow I’ll add neon strings to complement
the crystal feel – must remember to wear my
goblin suit for fun when we meet and add the
pristine white hat that frames my face

Like a round rosy cherub with wrinkles – what
fun it is to have these pretty things – must write
her a letter on my beautiful paper to add to the
festive feeling - maybe purple wings like I have
in my work station? – or maybe not, it is a bit
over the top…

[2 February 2015]