Ideals And Ethical Dreams

There goes Lobsang Rampa flying out the door
having failed two spirituality tests: he says the
end justifies the means and extrapolates with an
impossible situation – such as Ayn Rand would
have shown him up claiming such hypothetical
situations never arise in reality, and I believe

The means becomes the end as explained by
Seth and Abraham, then this bright-eyed and
bushy-tailed multiple lifetimes reincarnating –
kind and refined Tibetan gentleman lovingly
informs his followers those taking alcohol and
drugs should be removed from society like

Weeds - they should not be allowed to have
children – said without compassion, without
a nuance of understanding nor any depth of
interpretation, he diverges radically from Seth
as channelled by Jane Roberts, saying no-one 
has the right to infringe on another’s freedom

To make and experience their own choices to
learn in this way, we can respect each other
without bombing another out of existence –
Lobsang enlarged my imagination, banishing
boredom and now he has also taught me how
to detect lack of respect for multidimensional

Reality, how to choose criteria and measure
self-styled spiritual leaders to catalogue them
in their own place far away from high ideals
and ethical dreams…

Succumb To Thrombosis [REV.]

I slink around wiggling my toes, waiting to
succumb to thrombosis caused by the very
murderous moonboot as predicted by the
kind doctor who did the sonar scan

Hands’ skin peeling from anxiety - the
sonar scan doctor recommends moving
about moonboot-less - while a general
practitioner thinks it’s disappointing

Ligaments are only partially healed, kindly
made appointment with her orthopaedic
surgeon with a bloodcurdling record doing
abortive hip replacements - therefore

Whatever he says, I won’t let him near me
with a knife, now I hang about without the
suspicious moonboot on my foot, doing my
exercises, turning circles with left-foot

And I still high step with the boot when I
get up, knowing the blood-clot threatening
boot and I are like naughty kids chided for
being bad, bad foot, bad boot, bad foot

Bad boot….

My Mind's Eye [REV.]

She’s jealous of the growing pool Alet said, its
a unique feature on our side of the building; a
spring tide this morning June claims, I want to
plant small flowers, adding goblins and deer,
June wants to plant mosses in a rock garden

Annette thinks we should sow beans - and in
my mind’s eye a magic beanstalk grows into
the heavens, we climb up to discover a new
dimension far away from our complaining
raucous factotum flabbergasted by the

Dripping water rotting carpet, causing growth
rings on the floor as the flood ebbs and flows;
we meet Bluebeard, steal all his riches and
jewels, return with our booty to the cheers
of all in the office…

[26 November 2014]

Problems Are Solved [REV.]

Meatballs and spaghetti, not for allergenic me of course,
you and the kids enjoy a hearty meal while I’m stuck with
veggies & side-salad - then you wash dishes of your own
accord and the kids go off to party with friends;

I watch NatGeoWild, Canada with snow I’ve never seen
personally, and probably never will; my diet restricts us
to a few organic dishes while we watch Diners, Drive-Ins
and Dives with quiet fascination resigned to the fact that

I can’t move outside the restrictions keeping me on even
keel - now you announce everything’s working perfectly,
punctuating the proclamation with amorous overtures -
that’s how I know all problems are solved!

Financial Advantage [REV.]

Navigated the minefield of your displeasure
almost successfully, only on two occasions
you told me to shut up, to stop commenting;
you’re sheltered happily in your programme
Going Live - and say, stop irritating me with
comments inapplicable to the Dramatic

Situation Unfolding; - I realise the only thing
I can do is let you revel in your own misery,
you enjoy being a martyr to excellence that
you own far too much of - & now it’s raining;
I’ll take your word for it you say, & suddenly
you’re successfully Going Live


Another thing I have no way of appreciating
except your joy at it happening - little me is
sitting here hoping I might get good results
from a moon boot sonar scan tomorrow -
but its irrelevant as it doesn’t directly mean
financial advantage…

Confused Delight

Feeling confused I once more indulge
my weakness for innocence - listening
to Amira’s first CD & while recognising
the knife-sharp high notes, the clarity of
tone and honesty of her presentation –
being everything I dreamed about at her
age and now can look back on as a kind
of life I would never have been able to
sustain, shyness being ingrained to the
point of derailment in my system, I love

The way she looks at the world with the
wondering eyes of a child and she does
not consider herself as singer as she
said, she wants the profit to do good for
those suffering and she clearly sings
for the joy it gives her, her natural and
childish delight in applause marks her
as a child who enjoys a fairytale yet still
feeds the cat and changes its sandbox,
with confused delight I listen, by doing

This I add to the wrong of exploiting a
young child – oh heavens, this makes
sense regarding pornography where
people’s brains show black spots of
atrophy when overindulging – but this
lovely sound, too sharp but oh so clear
and natural, of a child’s presentation
with confidence and trust in the adults
who watch her with interest – and all
she shows is this small girl and older

Brother who has the most mischievous
don’t care expression on his lips while
he takes care of his sis – what a bright
episode in which the gods themselves
delight and indulge – as long as there
are intelligent guidance preventing
harm, everything will be okay as yet…

Operation Moonboot Starts Again [REV.]

This fashionable moonboot & I may part company
as soon as tomorrow; it’ll be determined whether
ligaments are healed enough to allow me to sleep
without it - putting an end to the fight every night

with my left foot to position moonboot on top of the
duvet, under the duvet, getting caught in the sheet,
pillows under, around and next to my leg to support
the heavy hard-duty moonboot-foot

pressure too much - easing the Velcro; conscience
then intervenes and I duly tighten again, the sole of
my foot burning uncomfortably, I open the front part
of the shoe but keep my heel digging into the sole

until it is uncomfortable too, in two desperate hours
struggle I’m perspiring profusely & my moonboot
relationship turns sour verging on bitter divorce -
but I get up again, tie a handkerchief over the front

of my foot to cover sore, broken skin, pull on my
sock, falling asleep from sheer exhaustion until my
beloved slides clinging like an octopus into bed,
waking me, so - operation moonboot starts again…

[25 November 2014]