i write it all down in my almanac
relevant miscellany
irreverent ephemera too
a volume of minutiae
a journal as a life slips by
all itemised in my almanac
the hours are history
the seconds are a mystery
the minutes make some kind of sense
a serendipity
an epiphany
a record of the events
i always carry around my almanac
you never know when lightning might strike
a memorable turn of phrase
images that brightly blaze
across the pages of my almanac
the dates and the places
the names and the faces
the headline-makers
the movers and the shakers
the sober and the trivial
the witty and satirical
the belly dancers
the questions without answers
almanac
almanac
cluttered pages of bricabrac
oh it keeps me sane!
i really go to town on my almanac
i never let it out of my sight
glittering spangles in the sky
a room awash in milky light
all larger than life in my almanac
a radical philosophy
a puzzling dichotomy
a smart analogy
a brainwave that occurs to me
the beauty and the majesty
the horror and the travesty
the dreams and the memories
the problems and the remedies
the empirical
the metaphysical
the magical
the mystical
the flowing and the lyrical
the fanciful and whimsical
the allegorical
the phantasmagorical
i got a memory hole
i've lost the thread
there's a buried train of thought
deep in my head
almanac
almanac
better than any aphrodisiac
oh it dulls my pain!
Monday 22 February 2010
Thursday 18 February 2010
JOY
the beautiful words of osho
babble over smooth mountain pebbles
sparkling like jewels in the sunlight
so carefully these words are chosen
so elegantly they open up new vistas
'unlearn' osho says
'take all that you think you know
and stand it on its head'
it all boils down to one simple observation:
bliss is absence of ego
like light is absence of darkness
if you want to find bliss
let in the light
let go of your ego
abandon your successes and accomplishments
your prides and your vanities
your pasts and your futures
what you have left
is the hereness and nowness of total awareness
so blindingly obvious
but so utterly contrary
to the occidental mindset
babble over smooth mountain pebbles
sparkling like jewels in the sunlight
so carefully these words are chosen
so elegantly they open up new vistas
'unlearn' osho says
'take all that you think you know
and stand it on its head'
it all boils down to one simple observation:
bliss is absence of ego
like light is absence of darkness
if you want to find bliss
let in the light
let go of your ego
abandon your successes and accomplishments
your prides and your vanities
your pasts and your futures
what you have left
is the hereness and nowness of total awareness
so blindingly obvious
but so utterly contrary
to the occidental mindset
Thursday 11 February 2010
WHEELS
for the last couple of months
while sweet barbara anne has been incapacitated
we've had an x reg vw polo standing in our drive
aw!
this one-ton assemblage
of metal and plastic and rubber
of grease and electronics
such a blessing
and such a curse
on an icy morning
when the north wind is blowing
and i must bisect the city
from leafy selly oak to grubby handsworth
the warm interior of this silver chariot
seems like a godsend
on new year's day
pistons blazing
it whisked us in no time
through bright countryside
to the gentle flanks of breedon
where public transport rarely ventures
mrs fireseed and the woodle
are chauffeured to and fro
monday ballet class
saturday swimming class
supermarket runs
friends' parties
the numerous locations
that are a pain and a hassle
to get to on foot
or by public transport...
but the taxi service quickly becomes a bind
and the empty tank symbol reappears
with surprising swiftness
shell
bp
esso...
not much of an ethical choice
when it comes to filling up
then there's the parking
the chronic road congestion
the road rage
the impatient lunatics
another room to get dirty and messy
both inside and out
as if we didn't have enough of those already
and suddenly the lean machine
that i left standing idle for a month in the garage
starts to reasset its attractiveness
my two-wheeler doesn't depend
on frequent guilt trips to petrol stations
owned by ruthless and exploitative corporations
she doesn't burn up
millions of years of accumulated energy
in a split second
my two-wheeler never gets gridlocked
in the rush-hour crush
she's much too svelte and manouevrable
she doesn't lock me away
behind a lonely isolating anti-social windscreen
she transports me at a human-scale pace
she allows me to take in the sights
the sounds and the smells
she's cool if i want to stop and smell the roses
or admire a tree captured in winter sunlight
or shake off a stubborn tailgater
she shows me the value of my own graft
she gets my heart pumping
my lungs breathing
and my muscles flexing
she puts me in a state of meditation
an alertness
a here and nowness
she keeps my feet on my ground
or at least very close to it
and i rest on her pedals
not on my stan laurels
while sweet barbara anne has been incapacitated
we've had an x reg vw polo standing in our drive
aw!
this one-ton assemblage
of metal and plastic and rubber
of grease and electronics
such a blessing
and such a curse
on an icy morning
when the north wind is blowing
and i must bisect the city
from leafy selly oak to grubby handsworth
the warm interior of this silver chariot
seems like a godsend
on new year's day
pistons blazing
it whisked us in no time
through bright countryside
to the gentle flanks of breedon
where public transport rarely ventures
mrs fireseed and the woodle
are chauffeured to and fro
monday ballet class
saturday swimming class
supermarket runs
friends' parties
the numerous locations
that are a pain and a hassle
to get to on foot
or by public transport...
but the taxi service quickly becomes a bind
and the empty tank symbol reappears
with surprising swiftness
shell
bp
esso...
not much of an ethical choice
when it comes to filling up
then there's the parking
the chronic road congestion
the road rage
the impatient lunatics
another room to get dirty and messy
both inside and out
as if we didn't have enough of those already
and suddenly the lean machine
that i left standing idle for a month in the garage
starts to reasset its attractiveness
my two-wheeler doesn't depend
on frequent guilt trips to petrol stations
owned by ruthless and exploitative corporations
she doesn't burn up
millions of years of accumulated energy
in a split second
my two-wheeler never gets gridlocked
in the rush-hour crush
she's much too svelte and manouevrable
she doesn't lock me away
behind a lonely isolating anti-social windscreen
she transports me at a human-scale pace
she allows me to take in the sights
the sounds and the smells
she's cool if i want to stop and smell the roses
or admire a tree captured in winter sunlight
or shake off a stubborn tailgater
she shows me the value of my own graft
she gets my heart pumping
my lungs breathing
and my muscles flexing
she puts me in a state of meditation
an alertness
a here and nowness
she keeps my feet on my ground
or at least very close to it
and i rest on her pedals
not on my stan laurels
Wednesday 10 February 2010
DISENCHANTMENT
always there and never here
always far and never near
always then and never now
always lost and never found
always looking around the next bend
always dissatisfied never content
oh disenchantment
hear your heart beat
oh disenchantment
feel your lungs breathe
always dwelling on the past
always willing time to pass
always poor and never rich
always broken never fixed
you entered this world with empty hands
when you depart what will you have?
oh disenchantment
embrace this soft night
oh disenchantment
bathe in the moonlight
oh disenchantment
you already know
oh disenchantment
let yourself go
always far and never near
always then and never now
always lost and never found
always looking around the next bend
always dissatisfied never content
oh disenchantment
hear your heart beat
oh disenchantment
feel your lungs breathe
always dwelling on the past
always willing time to pass
always poor and never rich
always broken never fixed
you entered this world with empty hands
when you depart what will you have?
oh disenchantment
embrace this soft night
oh disenchantment
bathe in the moonlight
oh disenchantment
you already know
oh disenchantment
let yourself go
Saturday 6 February 2010
NO LIMITS
looking back
i've spent an awful long time
jumping through hoops
and i've wasted an awful lot of energy
trying to conform to other people's expectations
make no mistake
the brainwashing that starts at birth
worked on me
just as effectively as it works on everyone else
i was a good boy
i kept my head down
i toad the line
i kept my parents and teachers happy
most of the time
(except when i was nasty to my younger brother)
i followed the rules
i tried to fit in as best as i could
i studied hard enough
to pass my exams
and 'get an education'
altogether
i adapted to life behind bars pretty well
the meaty sugary fatty diet
the daily routine
i wore the uniforms
i drank the fizzy lager
i learned how to indulge in the banter
even my year (and a half) off post-university
was a textbook example of youthful self-indulgence
oh yes
dear friends
i accepted the limitations
i expected the expectations
i assumed the assumptions
i deferred to my greaters and betters
i never questioned the rules of the game
the narrow confines
the choice between pepsi and pepsi lite
prawn cocktail or salt n vinegar
cadburys or galaxy
colgate or aquafresh
ah! i was a slave
to the conditioned aspirations
the convenient lies
the chasing of rainbows
the pursuit of pleasure
the hunt for happiness
the definitions of success
the allure of money
the bombardment of mass culture
the acquistion of material possessions
the crystalline rush of power
the soothing massage of ego
i could not see beyond it
my horizons were hemmed in
i was the frog in the well
the fish in the small pond
the willing cog in the machine
until one day
i can't remember when
i started to notice a crack in the edifice
gradually the cracks began to multiply
until one day there was a gaping hole
appropriately enough
i probably have the internet to thank for that
the woodle's teacher says
she's a bright kid
but she doesn't get down to her work
i say: "she's a bit of a dreamer like her dad"
but secretly i'm pleased
she's putting up some resistance to the hoops
i've spent an awful long time
jumping through hoops
and i've wasted an awful lot of energy
trying to conform to other people's expectations
make no mistake
the brainwashing that starts at birth
worked on me
just as effectively as it works on everyone else
i was a good boy
i kept my head down
i toad the line
i kept my parents and teachers happy
most of the time
(except when i was nasty to my younger brother)
i followed the rules
i tried to fit in as best as i could
i studied hard enough
to pass my exams
and 'get an education'
altogether
i adapted to life behind bars pretty well
the meaty sugary fatty diet
the daily routine
i wore the uniforms
i drank the fizzy lager
i learned how to indulge in the banter
even my year (and a half) off post-university
was a textbook example of youthful self-indulgence
oh yes
dear friends
i accepted the limitations
i expected the expectations
i assumed the assumptions
i deferred to my greaters and betters
i never questioned the rules of the game
the narrow confines
the choice between pepsi and pepsi lite
prawn cocktail or salt n vinegar
cadburys or galaxy
colgate or aquafresh
ah! i was a slave
to the conditioned aspirations
the convenient lies
the chasing of rainbows
the pursuit of pleasure
the hunt for happiness
the definitions of success
the allure of money
the bombardment of mass culture
the acquistion of material possessions
the crystalline rush of power
the soothing massage of ego
i could not see beyond it
my horizons were hemmed in
i was the frog in the well
the fish in the small pond
the willing cog in the machine
until one day
i can't remember when
i started to notice a crack in the edifice
gradually the cracks began to multiply
until one day there was a gaping hole
appropriately enough
i probably have the internet to thank for that
the woodle's teacher says
she's a bright kid
but she doesn't get down to her work
i say: "she's a bit of a dreamer like her dad"
but secretly i'm pleased
she's putting up some resistance to the hoops
PULLING THROUGH
to smell the delicate fragrance of a spring twilight
to hear the cries of playful gulls cavorting far above
to watch a smoky greyhound stretch out across a bright dusk sky
to see the gilt-edged clouds chase one another across the horizon
to feel the gentle kiss of the evening sun
to feel the warm sand between my toes
to taste the tart sweetness of fresh raspberries
to chase a giggling child around the flower beds
to watch the arcing shuttlecock land just inside the line
to feel the air rush through panting lungs
to smell the comforting aroma of home-made nut roast
to sink at last into a comfortable armchair
to sense the milky white glow through the bathroom window
to watch a jaunty magpie hop along the ridge tiles
to feel the heat of the hearth upon my hands
to caress the smooth grain of time-worn oak
to hear the cries of playful gulls cavorting far above
to watch a smoky greyhound stretch out across a bright dusk sky
to see the gilt-edged clouds chase one another across the horizon
to feel the gentle kiss of the evening sun
to feel the warm sand between my toes
to taste the tart sweetness of fresh raspberries
to chase a giggling child around the flower beds
to watch the arcing shuttlecock land just inside the line
to feel the air rush through panting lungs
to smell the comforting aroma of home-made nut roast
to sink at last into a comfortable armchair
to sense the milky white glow through the bathroom window
to watch a jaunty magpie hop along the ridge tiles
to feel the heat of the hearth upon my hands
to caress the smooth grain of time-worn oak
Friday 5 February 2010
AND THE WOODPECKERS CHASE
renewal and rebirth
spring awakens
groping her tentative shoots up through the earth
a ring of delicate snowdrops sprinkled like fairy dust
encircles the base of a hornbeam
sticky little buds
burst from the twiggy fingers and hands
of an overhanging chestnut
large flocks of great and long-tailed tits
busy themselves in the hedgerows
high up above
a sudden burst of machine-gun fire
ricochets around the woodland
a territorial warning shot
answered by an intruder
who attacks in spectacular fashion
an exploding missile flying in from left field
and the woodpeckers chase each other
in giddy circles through the treetops
spring awakens
groping her tentative shoots up through the earth
a ring of delicate snowdrops sprinkled like fairy dust
encircles the base of a hornbeam
sticky little buds
burst from the twiggy fingers and hands
of an overhanging chestnut
large flocks of great and long-tailed tits
busy themselves in the hedgerows
high up above
a sudden burst of machine-gun fire
ricochets around the woodland
a territorial warning shot
answered by an intruder
who attacks in spectacular fashion
an exploding missile flying in from left field
and the woodpeckers chase each other
in giddy circles through the treetops
Thursday 4 February 2010
OUT OF THE WOODS & INTO THE TREES
thanks for the email, mr k
much appreciated...
good news!
unplugged
delinked
disconnected from her life-sustaining matrix
barbara oliver
(bo - school nickname 'lifebuoy')
tucks into her first proper meal for months
a plate of hospital veggie lasagne, no less!
suffering no ill effects
she takes this big leap for stomachkind
in her stride
just as she has taken in her stride
long months of worry, hassle and uncertainty
the doctors
the nurses
the consultants
the surgeons
the physiotherapists
the dieticians
the appointments
the cancellations
the tests
the scans
the investigations
the visits
the drugs
the injections
the bed pans
the hair falling out
all the rigmarole and the malarkey
even with the state of the art wizardry
the queen elizabeth has to offer
1 in 20 still don't make it
but i'd bet on old barbara anne pulling through
amazingly she is discharged and back home
just a week after the op
and it's already yesterday
when i go round
things are back to something disarmingly like normal
dad fusses around
does all the housework
waits on barbara hand and foot
gently reminds her
to keep up her hourly breathing exercises
and her muscular stretches
checks she's taking the right pills
at the right time
there's nothing like this kind of event
to make you take stock
i have often criticised
even resented my parents
for their innate conservatism
their inbuilt caution and inertia
their deferential attitude to power and authority
but i have to concede to them
one of their greatest assets
apart from their love
their reliability
much appreciated...
good news!
unplugged
delinked
disconnected from her life-sustaining matrix
barbara oliver
(bo - school nickname 'lifebuoy')
tucks into her first proper meal for months
a plate of hospital veggie lasagne, no less!
suffering no ill effects
she takes this big leap for stomachkind
in her stride
just as she has taken in her stride
long months of worry, hassle and uncertainty
the doctors
the nurses
the consultants
the surgeons
the physiotherapists
the dieticians
the appointments
the cancellations
the tests
the scans
the investigations
the visits
the drugs
the injections
the bed pans
the hair falling out
all the rigmarole and the malarkey
even with the state of the art wizardry
the queen elizabeth has to offer
1 in 20 still don't make it
but i'd bet on old barbara anne pulling through
amazingly she is discharged and back home
just a week after the op
and it's already yesterday
when i go round
things are back to something disarmingly like normal
dad fusses around
does all the housework
waits on barbara hand and foot
gently reminds her
to keep up her hourly breathing exercises
and her muscular stretches
checks she's taking the right pills
at the right time
there's nothing like this kind of event
to make you take stock
i have often criticised
even resented my parents
for their innate conservatism
their inbuilt caution and inertia
their deferential attitude to power and authority
but i have to concede to them
one of their greatest assets
apart from their love
their reliability
Wednesday 3 February 2010
LIFE SUPPORT
somewhere amidst the bleeps and buzzings
in the heart of the intensive care unit
my mother sits
propped up in an armchair beside her bed
her wispy hair neatly brushed back
her pallid skin luminous
under the fluorescent strip lighting
giving her an almost ghostly countenance
24 hours ago she emerged from theatre
after six and a half hours on the operating table
the surgical team were assembled
anesthesia administered
scalpel proferred
incisions made
a lung collapsed
a rib broken
a large tumour removed from her blocked gullet
her stomach reattached to whatever remains
now
doped up with painkillers
she drifts in and out of consciousness
her train of thought blurry
her speech only semi-coherent
"nil by mouth" says the sign
her throat is dry
her voice raspy but audible
she is the hub of an intricate network
which impedes her movement
tubes, pipes and catheters
feed oxygen, food and vital fluids in
more tubes, pipes and catheters
collect various waste fluids in bags
a monitor displays a raft of indicators
of bodily function
in real time
heart rate
breathing
blood pressure
other stuff i can't fathom
this array of technology
maintained and monitored
by a kind and vigilant young chap called joseph
somehow keeps my own flesh and blood ticking
against all nature's odds
as i grasp my mother's warm hand
i perceive sitting before me
in the heart of the intensive care unit
my mother sits
propped up in an armchair beside her bed
her wispy hair neatly brushed back
her pallid skin luminous
under the fluorescent strip lighting
giving her an almost ghostly countenance
24 hours ago she emerged from theatre
after six and a half hours on the operating table
the surgical team were assembled
anesthesia administered
scalpel proferred
incisions made
a lung collapsed
a rib broken
a large tumour removed from her blocked gullet
her stomach reattached to whatever remains
now
doped up with painkillers
she drifts in and out of consciousness
her train of thought blurry
her speech only semi-coherent
"nil by mouth" says the sign
her throat is dry
her voice raspy but audible
she is the hub of an intricate network
which impedes her movement
tubes, pipes and catheters
feed oxygen, food and vital fluids in
more tubes, pipes and catheters
collect various waste fluids in bags
a monitor displays a raft of indicators
of bodily function
in real time
heart rate
breathing
blood pressure
other stuff i can't fathom
this array of technology
maintained and monitored
by a kind and vigilant young chap called joseph
somehow keeps my own flesh and blood ticking
against all nature's odds
as i grasp my mother's warm hand
i perceive sitting before me
a triumph of science
a miracle of the modern age
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