Tangy, the aftertaste of unsent ink, words left like fishhooks in my throat. Of your preposition that held up my sky, love became my silent film, soon unreeled.
Not to be unzipped, unbuttoned in the dark, man’s executioner lurks within his whisper; Best laid plans are left unsaid at the confessional. Friends echo fallacious words tonight, the coin was tossed into the sea.
Tongue tastes, a blind snake in a maze; twisted sheets after bad dreams and on the bridge that’s always burning, tied a noose to the rail.
Tangling telephone wires hum my hymns over the moon-whispered tides; Our empty cups, save our salt, simple as a slip, a dark entry, joyful as the fire laughs at the forest; Words become the silence.
Tied (again) but now with notes; Tongue (again) a rusted hinge knotting the clocks, doing time.
Over (returns) like a skipped stone’s fate, poems sank to the lake bed; Often returning to the teacher’s words spoken into jars and never sealed.
Tangled in a comb’s teeth; Tongues – final act – stilled by dawn.
Live and maintain pretence, to write poems on ghost paper. With the last match in the box, friends (again) echo their silhouettes.
All the sand left in the glass; Tongue (last stand) now a relic, tangled for a final time in this museum.
Word one, we’ll never say again, @ – a noose around the moon; The most dangerous definite article on the wharf where lost verbs go to drown.
Legendary, the stains became night, the inkwell we dip our days in; Of (last breath) the last breath; Tangy – full circle – a foretaste of new words for scented letters.
A type of mesostic or maybe a skeleton key poem, I’m not sure exactly what this form is called. The first word of each line is taken from the complete poem ‘word tangle’ by Rog Leach. The last two lines reflect back on the first two. The words are 95% mine, with some original assistance from AI for the base. I kept the line ‘@ – a noose around the moon’ though, as it appealed to me.
Shared with What Do You See #287 and inspired by this post by Nilofer Neubert using the Blitz form, which has this stack of rules: Line 1 should be one short phrase or image (like “build a boat”) Line 2 should be another short phrase or image using the same first word as the first word in Line 1 (something like “build a house”) Lines 3 and 4 should be short phrases or images using the last word of Line 2 as their first words (so Line 3 might be “house for sale” and Line 4 might be “house for rent”) Lines 5 and 6 should be short phrases or images using the last word of Line 4 as their first words, and so on until you’ve made it through 48 lines Line 49 should be the last word of Line 48 Line 50 should be the last word of Line 47 The title of the poem should be three words long and follow this format: (first word of Line 3) (preposition or conjunction) (first word of line 47) There should be no punctuation
Eating belly jeans, listening to a bad salad Considering the plaster man My prubarb rye was wise prinning As only my bunch luffet can
I was pit-nicking and nucking futs Going over to the sark died Sod rest her goal, it reamed so seal Now those birty dirds have flied
Humans have an infinite capacity for denying the truth.
Judge Death, 2000AD
Gratitude Journal
I am so happy and grateful to know the egg lady in the market who sells me three boiled eggs for 20 baht. We’ve never spoken to each other as it is a straightforward transaction but I’m glad she’s there.
Today I started using an app called Day One, the free version of which lets you add a picture each day with the prompt of why you took it. The app also prompts for other things such as below:
Today I’m grateful for: Finding this app and to see if it is useful for me. I’ve been writing my gratitude journal on paper for 18 months or so and want to try a mobile app again.
I took this picture because this is my first day using this app and I have to start somewhere.
The Poems Of Reason
This one has taken a while, perhaps more than a year. Again, a poem for a bunch of quotes I highlighted whilst reading Sartre’s The Age of Reason.
Everything is so neat and tidy in your mind; it smells of clean linen; it’s as though you had just come out of a drying room.
The Drying Room
The static in the air Crackles your clean clothes Your body is straight Your mind is straight It’s the vision that you chose
When you look at yourself, you imagine you aren’t what you see
False Mirror
Reflecting Who is this? Who are you? Am I in this picture? I am the light of the scene A spotlight shines upon me Flowers are thrown, gifts given This mirror is not me My head is not the mirror So what is this picture I see?
…you’re the sort that upsets glasses and smashes mirrors. And women trust you. Well, they get what they deserve.
Smashed Up
You balanced your full temper With a charisma kept in reserve And those folks who trusted you End up with what they deserve
He had not seen him for six months….It was embarrassing, they had too much to say to each other, their fading friendship lay between them.
Some Things Don’t Last A Long Time
The red has faded The blue has paled This picture, a reminder Our friendship has failed Too much to say Too much time past It’s just a sign It wasn’t meant to last Forgotten the feeling Of the things we shared Six months on Like we never cared
Who am I to give advice? And what have I done with my life?
Void
The eternal question to ask Who am I? Why am I here? Have you asked this of yourself? Who are you? Why are you here? Advice offered through experience It’s honest but never true and clear What did we ever do with ourselves? Who are we? Why are we here?
…he always felt as though he were somewhere else, that he was not wholly born. He waited. And during all that time, gently, stealthily, the years had come, they had grasped him from behind…
Beers and Wine
What are you waiting for? You’ve been born for many years You’ve never been now Now holds too many fears Death is creeping up on you You’ve been worried every day Too late to let it loose Now your regret is here to stay
Youth is fantastic, so vivid on the surface, but no feeling inside it.
Empty Pocket
The stars of the youthful eyes Burning bright in darkened skies An energy burst, far and wide An empty pocket, nothing inside
You mustn’t mind me today, I’m not myself. I’m dependent on other people, which is so degrading.
Irrelevant
Don’t mind me and the things I say I’m just not really myself today I degrade myself by being dependent I need others to make me feel relevant
I want to live immediately, I haven’t begun, and I haven’t time to wait, I’m old already, I’m twenty-one.
Dying Days
How long can I wait, I’m already old I should be living now, or so I’m told I haven’t started and the race feels run My dying days at only twenty-one
He never worried about her, he said to himself; “If there was anything the matter with her, she would tell me.”
Together
Sure she would tell me if there was something wrong I never worry about her and where we both belong Sometimes side by side and other times far apart We are certain to be together deep within our heart
I forget the context of the quote but took it as a negative thought, in that he doesn’t think about the person much at all. But when it came to writing this little poem I’m channelling the positive feeling between my wife and me as she is far away. I do worry a little about her – but I don’t worry about us.
And yet he ought to know that I can’t talk about myself, that I don’t like myself enough for that.
Glean
When I dislike myself I remain quiet Contemplating all of my life’s meaning Yet you chatter away incessantly Without acknowledging that I’m dreaming And the words we both imparted Provided little for either of our gleaning
One could only damage oneself through the harm one did to others.
I Hurt Myself
The thoughts I have about you The ones I justify I redirect them inward To test and qualify I learned that if I hurt you It’s myself that feels the damage Better to change my thinking And these emotions I must manage
She was beautiful beyond all doubt, but her beauty was of the kind that vanishes under observation.
Focus
Such a vision from afar As if captured in a soft-focus lens This beauty breaks under inspection On distance it depends
I am the more convinced that one oughtn’t to be a man of principles. You are stiff with them, you even invent them, but you don’t stick to them.
Break Or Bend
Does the principle a man make? Or convinced they are better to break? Stiff with sticking to a particular way Or flexibly bending from day to day
A man must have the courage to act like everybody else, in order not to be like anybody.
A Different Same
It’s bravery to jump in the river From the same bridge others jumped There’s a message to deliver So remains the water pumped All within is what remains There’s a choice to resistance The difference will be what explains Our places in existence
Your age of reason is the age of resignation, and I’ve no use for it.
Useless
When you found reason It seemed all but useless to me A resignation About how one chooses to be
…you looked much more like a fellow who had just realised that he had been living on ideas that don’t pay.
Next Invention
Each great idea come and gone Moved half a world away Master of the next invention Living on ideas that never pay
No one ever talks to me about myself, and there are times when I can’t seem to get hold of what I am.
Doctor Griffin
Talk to me, don’t talk to me Your words so closely guarded Who am I? I’m not too sure Always disregarded An invisible man Unsure what I am
…inject a meaning into life, choose to be a man, to act and to believe. That would be salvation.
Salvation
I saved myself in the end Making choices, acting and believing Found the time in which to spend Thoughts to surround with meaning
My freedom? It’s a burden to me; for years past I have been free and to no purpose. I simply long to exchange it for good sound certainty.
No Complaint
I don’t want freedom Its burden brings constraint Because I have no purpose Not even any complaint Give me words to live by A map and a guide Days that are certain No thinking need be applied
Well, he ought to marry Marcelle. After that he can rest upon his laurels, he is still young, he will have a whole life in which to congratulate himself on a good deed.
Sat Back
That one deed that made a god To revel in the glory until the end Resting on laurels laid in youth And for the future did depend
“I must transform myself to the very bones.” But nothing could help him to do that: all his thoughts were tainted from their origin….he saw himself exposed and as he was: thoughts, thoughts about thoughts, thoughts about thoughts of thoughts, he was transparent and corrupt beyond any finite vision.
Very Bones
In ever-decreasing circles of thought And all the thinking amounts to naught Becoming a ghost, accepting of fate Transformed to a flesh-corrupted state
…there were people who did not exist at all, mere puffs of smoke, and others who existed rather too much.
Living A Quote
Live the quote ‘to be or not’ You were blown away on the breeze Left nothing to be remembered for A life disappeared with ease Living the quote ‘to be or not’ You are an immovable stone Standing in the way of everyone Until left standing alone
“I don’t know how to suffer, I never suffer enough.” The most painful thing about suffering was that it was a phantom, one spent one’s time pursuing it, one always hoped to catch and plunge into it and suffer squarely with clenched teeth; but in that instant it escaped, leaving nothing behind but a scattering of words and countless demented, pullulating arguments. “There’s a chattering in my head, and the chattering won’t stop. Oh, how I wish I could be silent!”
Suffer Enough
I only suffer myself Is it enough for meaning? Sunken into comforts Words of smoke, no feeling A talking never stops All arguments demented Suffering in silence Enough to be resented
…they must be assumed to understand each other’s allusions or the charm would be broken. (game playing. not like that – straight to a fault)
Game Playing
When the rules are clearly understood Is it still a game we’re playing? Have we taken this beyond understanding With the truths we’ve been saying?
Various tried and proved rules of conduct had already discreetly offered him their services: disillusioned epicureanism, smiling tolerance, resignation, flat seriousness, stoicism – all the aids whereby a man may savour, minute by minute, like a connoisseur, the failure of a life.
All The Rules
Borrowed from the wise across the ages From the philosophies of time’s well worn pages Each one with rules increasingly rife All pointing towards our failure of a life
A couple of quotes from Samuel Beckett’s ‘Happy Days’. As I was reading the bizarre scenario of the play I had, perhaps, a false reminiscence of seeing this play on TV when I was young, being intrigued and excited by it. Whether I did or not is beside the point. In my mind, it now happened. I found an old dodgy video online of the play and it is almost exactly as I imagined. I didn’t watch it all as I don’t want to spoil the idea of it in my head. I will watch his other plays that I found though – unless I end up finding the books first.
Can’t be helped, just one of those old things. Another of those old things.
Resigned
Sigh away all of your expectation Lost in your thought of resignation Accepting as a gift, a pleasure Here is now, and made to measure
Ah yes, so little to say, so little to do, and the fear so great, certain days, of finding oneself.
There is so little one can say, one says it all, and no truth in it anywhere.
In My Hole
So little to say, so little to do A mindless curiosity within So afraid of being found out Who am I? What do I bring? Words were spoken that said it all Tho’ not a single truth was divulged Here, in my whole, with my bag I am henceforth forever indulged
Another week is here Another Monday of fun How many have I seen? How many more to come? Time runs away from me I can’t keep up these days On the downward spiral Running out of plays Lazy summer Sundays Now filled to overflowing Oh, to be bored again With no idea where I’m going Regret no past mistakes It was all a knowledge to seek Savour every living moment So begins another week
Uprooted
Uprooted from all you know At the age of just sixteen Still growing into your world But following your parent’s dream A better life is on its way Though you may not see it yet Take up this challenge Make the most of what you get
I’m teaching a sixteen-year-old student who is moving with her parents from China to Australia. A tough time for someone that age.
Four Rats
Four rats run around Tokyo Stealing all her food and drink Too slow in her reactions Those rats are smarter than you think Sniffing the air in excitement Whiskers twitching from their keep In the drains and shadowy corners Whilst Tokyo remains asleep
I am so happy and grateful for a long day of rest yesterday with nothing much to do. I could recover from my hangover just watching TV or playing with the cats and dogs.
This was a mammoth task! Lots of quotes from Dostoevsky’s Notes From Underground stuck out to me and I could identify very well with The Underground Man. Finding many of these quotes elsewhere online seems to indicate that many others identify with him too.
Anyway, I decided I’d try to write a poem for each quote as I’d done before. This took a while!
The themes are obviously all very similar, maybe it could’ve been one long poem but that would’ve surely made me more crazy. Words are borrowed and manipulated liberally from the quotes. This was a fun exercise but I’m glad it’s finished. On to the Dreams of a Ridiculous Man!
But I still say that not only too much lucidity, but any amount of it at all is a disease.
Lucid Rivers
When you wake up, ready to go In search of things you didn’t know Does this compulsion drive you so Too obsessive to properly grow The disease of always learning Never satisfies your yearning That desire that’s always burning Is like a wheel that’s always turning
…as a result of heightened consciousness, a man feels that it’s all right if he’s bad as long as he knows it – as though that were any consolation.
Done Bad
I know the things I’ve done There surely is no prize I justified the outcome As I looked into your eyes
I’m guilty of being more intelligent than all those around me. (I’ve always felt that and, believe me, it’s weighed on my conscience sometimes. All my life, I have never been able to look people straight in the eye – I always feel a need to avert my face.)
Pedestal
Here on this pedestal, I sit Judging all those below It’s always been like this And believe me, I know When will you learn, I say As if to deny what’s true I don’t know who I am But certain that you are you
….it will hurt itself a hundred times more than it will hurt the one against whom its revenge is directed, who probably won’t even feel enough of an itch to scratch himself.
Bad To Worse
When I took revenge on you You didn’t feel a thing Little did I understand The trouble it would bring I just wanted to hurt you Make you feel my pain Instead things got worse for me Over and over again
How many times did I convince myself that I was offended, just like that, for no reason at all.
To Take Offence Is To Give Offence
Convinced myself I was offended Just like that, no reason at all My reaction less than splendid Taking home my bat and ball
Where will I find primary reason for action, the justification for it? I exercise my power of reasoning, and in my case, every time I think I have found a primary cause I see another cause that seems to be truly primary, and so on and so forth, indefinitely. This is the very essence of consciousness and thought. It must be another natural law. And what happens in the end? The same thing over again.
Merry
Round and round in circles I go Looking for the primary cause It’s never ending, I know It’s one of nature’s laws
You see, ladies and gentlemen, I have a friend – of course, he’s your friend too, and, in fact, everyone’s friend. When he’s about to do something, this friend explains pompously and in detail how he must act in accordance with the precepts of justice and reason. Moreover, he becomes passionate as he expostulates upon human interests; heaps scorn on the shortsighted fools who don’t know what virtue is or what’s good for them. Then, exactly fifteen minutes later, without any apparent external cause, but prompted by something inside him that is stronger than every consideration of interest, he pirouettes and starts saying exactly the opposite of what he was saying before; that is, he discredits the laws of logic and his own advantage; in short, he attacks everything…
Your Personal Friend
Roll up, roll up, he is everyone’s friend He is another you Arguing a point, a message to intend About what you should do Fifteen minutes, position is reversed Opposite now true Argued both ways, you’re becoming the worst Split yourself in two Attack from both sides needing to win Making others blue Needle your way under people’s skin Two faced through and through
….in that future age of reason, there suddenly appeared a gentleman with an ungrateful, or shall we say, retrogressive smirk, who, arms akimbo, would say: “What do you say, folks, let’s send all this reason to hell, just to get all these logarithm tables out from under our feet and go back to our own stupid ways.” That isn’t so annoying in itself; what’s bad is that this gentleman would be sure to find followers. That’s the way man is made.
Return
“Deny all reason and follow me Your system isn’t working I am the one to set you free” I whisper quietly, smirking
…a man, always and everywhere, prefers to act in the way he feels like acting and not in the way his reason and interest tell him…
Don’t Do It
Who controls my brain? I’m not sure it’s me Don’t think about pink elephants But that is what I see I tell myself, don’t do it And do it anyway Shoot myself in the foot Reason has no say
…there is one instance when a man can wish upon himself, in full awareness, something harmful, stupid, and even completely idiotic. He will do it in order to establish his right to wish for the most idiotic things and not to be obliged to have only sensible wishes…it leaves us our most important , most treasured possession: our individuality.
We’re All Individuals
I want to be stupid It’s my right Do dangerous things In the night I know it’s dumb But I’m aware It’s my choice You don’t need to care
I’m prepared to follow you as soon as you have eradicated my desires, destroyed my ideals, and replaced them by something better.
The Offer
Eradicate my desires Perhaps I’ll follow you Destroy my ideals Would I join your crew? If you want me to change Follow you to the letter You’ll have to show me how You offer something better
You say you’re longing to live, and you try to solve the problems of life with tangled logic. And you’re so insistent, so arrogant, and at the same time, so afraid.
Tangled Logic
In your arrogance you insist Don’t fear or resist Your logic remains tangled Your thinking quite mishandled Change the way you live By what it is you give You can’t see it made As long as you’re afraid
There is some truth in you, all right, but there’s no humility; and it is out of the pettiest vanity that you drag forth your truth, to exhibit it, to offer it for sale, to disgrace it. You really have something to say, but you hide your final words, out of fear, because you really have no courage, only the impertinence of a coward. You were bragging about your consciousness, yet you can’t grasp anything clearly because, though your head is quite lucid, your heart is murky as a result of debauchery, and real consciousness is impossible without a pure heart.
Truth For Sale
Do as I say, not as I do It’s up for sale, what is true No courage for your conviction A murky heart, your restriction Nothing clear in your action No idea maintaining traction Your debauchery brings disgrace And permanently found its place
…there are things, too, that a man won’t dare to admit even to himself, and every decent man has quite an accumulation of such things.
No Freedom
Some things I hate to admit to you And there’s others I cannot see I also wouldn’t admit were true So I’ll hide them deep inside of me
I would like to note here Heine’s remark to the effect that sincere autobiographies are almost impossible and that a man is bound to lie about himself.
Sincere
Every day your autobiography Is accumulating on your stage Where you cannot hide behind Lies you put down on your page
I was twenty-four, but even then I led the gloomy disorganised solitary existence of a recluse. I stayed away from people, avoided even speaking to them, and kept more and more to my hole.
Recluse
A gloomy solitary existence A rat hiding in it’s hole Away from the tyranny Of words that cut my soul
I, of course, loathed and despised everyone in my office, although I was afraid of them at the same time. At times, I even considered them above me.
Sits In His Office
In this office I sit and suffer Despising those above me Fools pandering to bosses Whispering ‘please, love me’ Afraid of failure And afraid of praise I wish to be left alone To quiet office days
I was painfully sensitive and complex, as a man of this age should be. The others, of course, were stupid and resembled one another like a flock of sheep.
No Sheep
Yes, I’m weird about some things But that’s as they should be At least I’m no stupid sheep And learning what I could be
One day I’d refuse to talk to my colleagues at all; then, suddenly I’d be talking their heads off and even seeking their friendship.
Pie Bowler
Today I talk your head off You just seem bemused Yesterday I ignored you No wonder you’re confused I don’t know why it happens My brain ain’t balanced well What you’re gonna get today Even I cannot tell
I, for instance, sincerely loathed my office work, and if I didn’t spit in anyone’s eye, it was only because I couldn’t afford to – I was paid to sit there.
Sits In His Office II
Another dollar, another day I spat in no one’s eye Loathing my self-loathing Life trudges right on by If I do not do this thing I’ll be another useless jerk So now I race to the office For another hateful day at work
No, wait, don’t laugh, I can explain – I have an explanation for everything, you may rest assured of that.
Justified Brat
I have an explanation for everything You may rest assured of that I’ll justify all my contradictions Like an ageless teenage brat
How can one ever understand you…with all these noble feelings.
Enigma
Your noble thoughts and feelings Your enigmatic dealings Can one ever understand Life’s journey that you have planned?
I was already grimly wondering at the pettiness of their thoughts, the inanity of their talk, their games and their preoccupations. They couldn’t understand the essential things and were not interested in the most thought-provoking subjects, so I came to consider them as inferiors. …but while I was still dreaming, those boys were grasping the real meaning of life.
Mindtrap
I discounted you in my false superiority Because I felt I was far above the majority Your talk and games are inane Yet the meaning of life they explain I still lay here, still provoking thought In this trap I made, I am clearly caught
I hated them violently, although I was probably even worse than they.
In Common
What you did to me Makes me so mad And what I do to you Is just as bad This violent hate The same as yours Exposes us both To our own flaws
I did make a friend once, but I was already a tyrant at heart and wanted to be the absolute ruler of his mind….It was as though I’d only wanted his total friendship just for the sake of winning it and making him submit to me.
Tyrant Friend
The only way you can be my friend Is if you submit to my will Your submission must be total Tho I will remain a tyrant still If you break these unspoken rules You will be castigated I must be ruler of your mind Until my ego is placated
I wanted to show the lot of them that I wasn’t the coward I myself thought I was.
Bravado
My true colours as a coward My bravado comes to hide I hurt myself to prove to you There’s more to me inside
That’s bad too – not to think. Wake up and get hold of yourself while there’s still time. Because you do still have time, understand that!
Too Bad
I don’t want to think about it I just want to drink about it I try to fix but always doubt it In my mind is where I shout it Can I wake up to myself Whilst there’s time to be had Try to think my way out But…ah, well, that’s too bad
…we must first learn to live ourselves before we begin to accuse others!
Jack Hughes
Issuing instructions on correct living Somewhat insincere, granted misgiving Accusations undermined in ignorance Hypocritical, devious denial of intelligence
I didn’t understand that sarcasm is a screen – the last refuge of shy, pure persons against those who rudely and insistently try to break their hearts.
Extreme Screen
I dare not speak of those things I’ve seen Shy, yet pure, I must raise this screen My last refuge is not as it may seem This story plays out as a reoccurring theme Indirectly, I direct you to where I’ve been Cry off in the corner as I, smiling, beam My reaction may be considered extreme My sarcasm will rudely disturb your dream
Habit can do things to people, I’m sure.
Does
Discipline breeds habit Habits breed discipline too Doing things to people’s brains Doing the do, do do
I’d been insulted, so I wanted to insult back; I’d been made a doormat, so I wanted to show my power and wipe my feet on someone else.
Doormat
You wiped your shoes on me With your insulting behaviour I’ll take my shoes to someone else So they may feel my failure
I can only play with words or dream inside my head; in real life, all I want is for you to vanish into the ground! I need peace.
Vanishing Point
The life I wish for is just a dream I play out in my head many times a day I would never stick a real knife in you Though I need peace – please, just go away
Of course, spinning long yarns about how I poisoned my life through moral disintegration in my musty hole, lack of contact with other men, and spite and vanity is not very interesting.
It’s Not Called a Men-cave
As you can see for yourself My life is quite ordinary The tales of my disintegration They don’t often vary From my cave I look out A life so poisoned with spite Unable to deny my vanity And unable to make things right
We’ve lost touch to such an extent that we feel a disgust for life as it is really lived and cannot bear to be reminded of it.
Daily Reminder
It annoys me to be reminded of the way you are Disgusts me so much that I then take things too far Losing touch with reality, trapped inside this cage Punishing myself as I’m tortured with this sickly rage
We don’t know ourselves. We would be the ones to suffer if our whimsical wishes were granted.
Whimsical Wishes
Ah, it’s the usual story Wasted wishes on whimsy We think we know ourselves Yet the evidence is flimsy So that we may suffer When desires are not earned Your third wish is for three more Is something to be learned
…we long to turn ourselves into something hypothetical called the average man.
Mr Average
Poison girls once did tell That Mr Average did never exist Yet the desire for exactly that Is a want we cannot resist
I am so happy and grateful to our friends who will come and visit us for lunch today. We can prepare tables, chairs, food and drinks for them all and we’ll have a good time.
We marched ever onward Til we conquered all around Spilled blood, spread disease Put generations in the ground Now the march is inward To conquer our own mind What then becomes of us After what we find?
Godsnake
Some absurd things make us laugh While others they offend But if you cannot laugh at yourself You’ll be angry until your end You can have your faith and eat it Not everyone feels the same Our beliefs are as absurd as each others Let’s not apportion blame
Legacy of GG
Ugly is art, all the same No judgement on defect It deserves respect Only opinion, it’s in the name It could be a mistake Art for art’s sake Like it or leave it Opinions aren’t facts So just relax If you don’t believe it Existing is real Whatever you feel Fame can be fleeting Soon passing on by Even after you die Those people you’re meeting Will return to the sky Just as you and I
Gratitude Journal
I am so happy and grateful for the delicious smells coming from the kitchen this morning as Amy prepares me my lunch – chilli jam fake duck. The fake meats here are many and varied and I’m grateful for all the choices.
If you looked deeply and saw it was not real Everything stripped away so you could no longer feel Would that mean that all the things from the past Never really happened now they no longer last? Was it all a lie? Memories that now fade Was it even you and those mistakes you made? Maidens become wolves, jewels become dust I cherish it all, for happiness I must Unrelenting winds whipped into a chill Forever into oblivion, remnants laying still
I’m sorry to say, it’s your fault It’s all the stupid things I see Sarcasm is the default result You bring out the English in me
“That’s just great, that’s amazing!” While I wonder what the fuck you’re doing What I mean and say are not the same thing Over the horizon, trouble is brewing
It’s a culture clash, war with words I see things I should never see Slower than thirty-three and a thirds You bring out the English in me
Gratitude Journal
I am so happy and grateful to be able to work from home today. Finally, someone at the school made the right decision for teachers to work from home due to the Covid case at school. It is the sensible decision!
Well, the students came back to school last Monday on a treacherous day of torrential rain, and it was good to see them all again. By Friday, the school was closed again due to a case of Covid that the school knew about on that first day but kept to themselves in the hope that it wouldn’t be a big deal. So typical of the Thai style. It’s very frustrating.
On Monday, Nancy was also constantly hassling me to cash her cheque and transfer her money. I was unable to get to a bank, but Amy offered to transfer it if I put some money into her account. I transferred from my account without realising it took me below the threshold needed for my visa application, which was summarily rejected on Tuesday! Now, I have to change to a 60-day visitor visa and re-apply again. I was so annoyed that it became funny.
Thailand has not endeared itself to me this week. I started wondering about leaving. We are only made to feel welcome here if we spend money. We will never be accepted as equals – sometimes it feels like a punishment for the luck of being born in a ‘better’ society. Revenge jealousy.
Anyway, I can play with my cats and the dog from next door. I still have books to read. Fuck frustration!
On a walk last week I picked some things to notice, one being electricity meters. In England and Australia these things are usually hidden away somewhere but here in Thailand they are usually visible somewhere out on the street where, although they can be easily tampered with, they can be easily read by the Electricity Board. They are not particularly noticeable though – unless you start looking for them. I found these ten quickly on a single walk.
The other thing that these pictures got me thinking about was Thai’s fascination and superstition about numbers. I haven’t heard anything specifically about numbers on these meters but lottery tickets and car number plates (as well as auspicious dates) are considered gossip worthy by many people here. When folks are told that their car number plates are not very lucky they may be guided by a fortune teller or particular monk to add another number to the plate, usually smaller than the numbers of the official plate. This goes along with a superstition about the colour of one’s car and if told they have an unlucky colour will add a sticker saying ‘This car is blue’ to improve their luck.
Thai’s (generalising) put way too much stock into these kinds of things, thinking that they have little or no control over their own lives. When they put little effort into improving themselves they can blame bad luck for their failures. Obviously I don’t think this is good, but am I right? I just tell myself I am.
Gratitude Journal
I am so happy and grateful to look back at some of the better poems I have written. I think I can find it easier to distil my thoughts and feelings into 4-20 lines of verse rather than writing a diary. Anyway, I’m glad to get back into the habit of writing poems.
1994ever 