Forever Hold My Peace…

I shall follow your wise and kind advice

and return to my duties as behoves

a good government official; oh yes,

oh yes, oh ye-e-e-sss! why are

you so moody? Have you always

been like this? Tranquillizers might

help, anti-depressants and sleeping pills;

shots in syringes and sweet syrups in

cough mixtures; bad humour and bile

will depart with good movement of

the intestines; one should never

confuse indigestion with firmness

of character; oh dear, you want me

to stop communicating; how very

frustrating; it makes me curious,

so vexatious; why don’t you wish

to talk to me? Because you’re

worried about my duty? Hardly likely,

must be a case of bile building up,

bad vapours making you sad and

bad-humoured – I forgive you for

hating me; bring all your anger and

frustration and hatred for the evil

nation and sad politicians and evil

gossipmongers and dastardly

poets and nasty undertakers and

mean backstabbers and exploiting

emotional blackmailers – oops, wait,

that must be me – and cry-babies

and whiners – oops, that is me too –

and sarcastic backbiters- yep, that is

definitely me – and abuse me,

take out all your anger at this

nasty world out on me; then write a

beautiful poem about how wonderful

the world is now that you have

killed and slay, destroyed and

maimed, cut-off and lamed,

mutilated and shamed; evil me,

inform the world how you will

rid it of people who waste the

time of all good people, serfs

and regents alike – to make it

a better place for all – oops,

didn’t you say I should get

back to work? I will immediately

execute your orders with alacrity,

shouldn’t you have ordered me

to execute myself – commit

hara-kiri – fall in a sword,

plunge a knife into my heart,

swallow poisons of all kinds,

imbibe toxic mushrooms, for Sal Monella

food-poisoning – oops, there I go again,

did you say get back to work?

Just tell me WHY, and I won’t pester

you again – this is a solemn promise,

give me one good reason and I’ll forever

hold my peace…

2 June 2008 Fairytale Reflections

Dearest King of the North,

I love your description of your playing at the concert – you are a talented person and should actually perform more often, it is good for your soul! The only difference between you and other musicians are that they always drink too much – it seems they can’t stand the pressures of reality; while you seem to prefer sobriety – thank heaven for that.

 

I have found a definition “fairytale endings” that answers my needs – it requires a certain perspective that I cannot always maintain; yet it brings me the experience of epiphany in a steady stream.  Whenever I focus on my long-term goals; unconditional love and the creation of beauty; and evaluate human relations at home, work and on PoemHunter in this light; I experience a fairytale ending. My goal was not fame or wealth; it was the exchange of ideas with like-minded people and enlarging the imagination in positive directions. This process is on-going and a source of endless delight. All pitfalls become challenges and all failures new beginnings. And the key lies in thoughts, how we look at things, I shift my perspective by choosing data that bends my thoughts in positive and miraculous directions. By creating magical feelings through daydreaming the world presents in magical ways and wonderment happens to me; and though I lament the loss of these feelings; I know the technique for resurrecting them again. Experiencing “fairytale endings” is determined by one’s definition of such. Trying to think in miraculous ways, I can see that you can choose to bring about a fairytale ending in your life; BUT you yourself must make the best of the options you can think up.

 

My fairytale ending entails retaining the ability to see and feel magic, even if only from time to time – I read on p. 317 in my book: “If you think a pretty thought, you make a flower grow up there somewhere.” – I’m focusing on thinking beautiful thoughts and thinking of all the flowers I’m making grow! … destined to grow as positive living entities in another dimension of infinite realities, poetry would encase those flower-thoughts in static meaningless symbols that may or may not be retranslated into the original experience – poetry is but the stringing of symbols to give expression to the inexpressible.

 

Please tell me your news, what happened while the Oke Al and Crocodile got scratched and bled, but no sharks got fed, and we fell asleep in the wind on the beach with the sand burying us while the crocodile and Okefenokee Al worked through a few thought experiments, thinking about what it would have felt like to have been so-and-so and did what they did – she said she does not regret what she did; but we could not think through her experience in any probable form that made it acceptable as an event or as a memory – so that was a day very well spent, the head clear of cobwebs afterwards.

 

I think most people live life half-heartedly, with the closed consciousness that Colin Wilson describes so well. I want to live with an open, delighted, high-revved consciousness; but I’ve found only certain events and certain states of mind will bring this consciousness about and routine life rather closes one off to the possibility. I have fantasised about the adventures of interesting people reliving their lives trying to discover what brought about enlarged consciousness, and found that few of them experienced it for long if at all; and people who reached the heights of fame and wealth readily succumbed to depression and unhappiness. So just leading a heady life as jet-setters and Hollywood stars do will not bring that consciousness state I desire, about. Colin Wilson pointed out that ecstasy gave mankind a brief experience of new consciousness, then sadly added but it is temporary and always leaves people feeling saddened and bereft afterwards. So that way no solution is found. Carlos Castaneda showed in his books how enlarged consciousness enables people to do supernatural deeds, but it did not offer escape from humdrum consciousness and humdrum existence. Lovers have sought ways of remaining in loving ecstasy, and all have failed beautifully doing it that way – so the only answer is to develop a new way of thinking that lifts one above humdrum life into a miraculous interpretation that needs NO external stimulation, no external props, only making use of inner mechanisms. For that the hilltop is needed, but the hilltop must be firmly situated in one’s own heart and mind, one needs to go INSIDE and shut out all sensory stimulation to reach it. I love sensory stimulation; getting intoxicated by speed and food and swimming and diving and sea and sand – and therefore I know how limited the human capacity to lift the consciousness into a new state through sensory stimulation. My hilltop-ideal is a place in my mind in which I live and from where I sally forth to meet reality – my hilltop is a perspective, an attitude – the ideal of unconditional love. I shall now engage with the unending delights of my reality, the amazing bureacracy and overpowering translations – all given with one purpose and one purpose only: to teach mankind to transcend this nonsensical reality. I have evaded the transcendence by writing to you, reflecting about life and thought activity; now it is back to the grinding mills to turn the earth on its lathe so as to have it in steady spin until it tilts again. Have a lovely day and a beautiful life, with more cyberlove than you will ever be able to fathom or understand,

The Ice Princess.

  

Enlightening Eponyms: Babbit

The only thing I can congratulate

myself with, is that I am not in

the habit of acting like a babbit

“A self-satisfied narrow-minded

person who conforms to conventional

ideals of business and material

success” – if hubby were not in

charge of financial affairs, I would

have been bankrupt ages ago and

living like a pauper – and if he

were more of a babbit, we would

have been well-off, but now we

prefer holidays at the sea-shore

and eating in restaurants more

than watching a growing bank

account – so he’s no babbit

either!

I Am Afraid I Am A Translator

I am afraid I am a translator who hates the source text and always tries to make it more poetic – and then my translations are rejected as not faithful to the text – and we translate Interpol messages about criminals dealing with criminals – so I call Interpol the one-eyed Cyclopian Troll Interpol – because he walks about with a club, ready to clobber criminals over the head. I work in an office and it forces me to escape dreary reality by dreaming and writing and reading, so now I stay in my job, fearing I would have no inspiration to transcend reality if I were not caught in this snare. I have a special blogspot, the link is www.popcornandjalapenos.blogspot.com where I post poems, philosophy and photos of family and fairies – the fairies being the most important. I love people – as they express themselves on paper and books and read A LOT, but conversation such as “small talk” does not interest me, so I don’t have a social life. I love conferences about language and cultural matters, and I drive people nuts when I attend these, singing songs, chatting, running, shouting, dancing for joy and just loving being alive. It’s great to know me as a stranger, and terrible to live and work with me – if I were my colleague, I would have killed me. As for new SA, I prefer the new SA to the old one, the old Apartheid era landed me in a mental institution; in the new SA I fit in beautifully. I live my life in a dream and confuse fantasy and reality all the time; so I have a lot of imaginary characters and seldom know whether I’m really one of them or whether I’m me – and if I’m me, who I really am.

Your Cyberpresence Kissed…

I think it is complicated, but your cyberpresence kissed my real-life existence…

 

Sometimes sleep is all we need to turn our eyes inside and see the vision growing within, to return to the beginning melody and resonate with the harmony the universe is offering, being order incarnate, and aligning with all that seems good and great and seeing myself mastering the art of doing statistics – that is a high vision indeed, awe-inspiring; usually it makes me cry because I can’t understand why my brain freezes on seeing numbers and my mind becomes numb when making lists – believing that there must be a magical miracle somewhere that will deposit a new, efficient me able to concentrate for longer than five measly minutes…

Never Determined The Full Extent

Self-help authors are saving my life, they tell me all about being a spiritual person and since I am not one, I imitate the examples of the long-suffering individuals they hold up for the edification of untamed barbarians like me…

 

My loved ones don’t die – and I’m glad for that – because I would have to accept the blame, according to my GURU’S, the SELF-HELP AUTHORS Wayne Dyer, Louise Hay, Leo Buscaglia, Paula, Deepak Chopra, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, Gary Schwartz, Gary Zukav  and anybody else – Betty Shine, Doris… Rosemary… look up their names on the Internet.

 

I apologize to all who surmise that I think of them in negative ways – because I don’t, I know I myself am the cause of whatever goes wrong in undertakings and I am satisfied that I am evil enough – but don’t hesitate to point out more instances if time allows, I have never determined the full extent of my own evil nature as yet!

 

In Total Administrative Bliss

So exciting, in total administrative bliss, flying with bureaucratic wings into procedural heaven and official paradise of perfect listings and brilliant statistics – the undercoverpoet is signing off – with too many spies posing as government officials around, she must also pose as an official and do filing and compile lists – but in her heart she is singing -)  

                                                                       

A defeated administrator, fleeing before the dementors whose kiss will suck the last bit of love for the thankless task of translation of bulletins out of her soul, listening to the rain falling outside, pretending it’s a message of hope from her secret love…

 

Zammit Says Afterlife, Dammit!

Since pesticides spell death and dying, I checked the Internet, Victor Zammit joyously informing the reader about scientific evidence for the afterlife and that love continues after physical death, so that is all right, after our demise from pesticides and nuclear fall-out our consciousness will revive in non-physical Gestalt within a new dimension and we shall be filled with love – and I will have all those lovely names of pesticides with which to play games, such as azoxystrobin, chlorfenapyr, folpet, iprodione and lambda-cyhalothrin – what can be more romantic than that?  - Link to an afterlife evidence site:

http: //www.victorzammit.com/

The Undercover Official

In total resignation, the official

lies her head down on the table, in

complete fatalism, the official

dies on her desk, too dispirited

to carry on her rebellion against

senseless stupidity and rules

 

Too disheartened to write down

a word, too deserted to look for

dissenters like herself, her life

leaking away through Idiotic

Bureaucracy – the Bureacratic

Dementors had sucked out her

 

Soul and without it breathing

seems a useless redundancy

no feeling can penetrate her ice-

cold demented being, no reason

presents itself to continue seeing

no meaning is found in repeating

 

Repetitive actions, catatonic the

official regards the blank screen

to be filled with meaning:

 

Considering that it is necessary

to comply with, without delay,

Commission Directive 07/27/EC

of 15 May; amending certain

annexures to Council Directive

86/362/EEC with regard to the

 

Maximum residue levels applicable

to tolylfluanide and triticonazole;

 

The words are killing the official,

forcing her down into the ground,

sinking lower – there is nothing

left to live for… Thus, without her heart,

lifeless, the remains of

the official, now just a

ghoul, continues typing the

murderous lists of poisons

allowed in the foods of the

people of the earth, the ghoul

can stand the pain because the

ghoul is dead already, and

a half-life cannot feel the

pain of the living…

 

Modus Operandi And Dreams

I have managed to shock people with my refusals to look at negative events, but there is very good reason for it. I replied to the following remark in the following way:  

 

 “I have seen a horrific world unfold and only play that we catch it before it spills into total famine and all out war. Do you know about the famine going on world-wide in the poor countries?”

When I was nine we were taught about erosion and deserts, I had seen photos of an atomic bomb exploding – so from that time I was in deep depression about the world becoming a desert and going to pieces. As a grown-up I didn’t want to drive and didn’t want to live in order to allow the earth to regenerate. I was worried about everything, the atrocities of the Second World War, pollution, dwindling oil reserves, Satanism, communism, and I feared life. In philosophy and ethics we learnt about the poverty and famine in the poor countries of the world – and the gory, gory fact that ENOUGH food is produced to feed the whole world and still have some left – BUT that is would cost money to take the food to the poor countries and once there, there is no infrastructure to distribute the food to the suffering poor, so the food rot in harbors and warehouses and are sold to enrich the already rich corrupt officials of poor countries. I wanted to die in total despondency – and this is part of the negative factors that led, together with the allergy, to my ending up in a mental institution.

 

Then I came across positive people who said we still have a choice and through our choices can determine the future – and I decided to make the choice to focus on everything positive. The positive people said we could not solve problems by focusing on them and fighting wars against them, because all fighting defeats the objective through violence – but we can simply be FOR peace, happiness, prosperity and goodness, and thus spread these things. By worrying and being poor myself and not driving and not using modern pollution products, I could not save the world, only by spreading information and good messages could anything good be achieved.

 

So the answer is yes, I know about the wars and famines. I have cried about them and read everything about them, and I read everything about the causes of the continent Africa being left behind in development in our modern global world. And I have read the scientific and philosophic analysis and plans and attempts and failures and see new attempts being made and see the failures at the conferences and talking to people from Africa.

 

And my only answer is: By becoming positive and therefore strong and courageous and spreading good messages and teaching good principles, we can make a difference by teaching our young people that they have the choice to decide to create a better world. By being negative and despondent, we accept a negative outcome as a foregone conclusion and create a self-fulfilling prophecy, but by being positive and teaching freedom of choice and the ability to be rational, we can empower people.

 

And that is the only salvation for the world; to empower people through knowledge, spreading wisdom and insight. And THAT I can do, by writing and talking and being free, illustrating the effects of making free choices, living the example of what happens when we embrace freedom and rationalism, by being the positive person I teach other people they can become also. By being a positive, happy, joyful example of a human being and by showing how we can amass facts and information, how we can learn far beyond ordinary limits, by showing people how free we are by living the freedom and accepting the results of this freedom. This is my manifesto, this is what my writing and poetry and life is about. I want to laugh and dance and sing with people to make them aware of how they can become free and be happy and what will happen if we all become free in our minds. I’m still working at living my life as an example, and I appreciate all help in enabling me to live happier in more freedom and understanding. I embrace friendship as an example of what happens when love is allowed freedom of expression.

 

I was just as despondent as you are when you said you only PLAY that we prevent all these disasters from happening – but now I am truly positive when I say I believe that your playing is empowering you and others to really prevent these disasters from happening. And I do NOT play that there is a positive outcome, I believe it, not hope it – more than that – I accept it as foregone fact that the world will be saved, that people will be empowered, and that all will be resolved. I am so glad you are willing to play being positive, because you enable me to live out my ideals and infuse other people with positive ideas – the more of us playing being positive, the more results are achieved and more people are empowered.

 

I am serious in my undertaking and not playing – not with you or any other person on earth. My feelings are real and I see other people as real and honest. I experience the things I write about. And though you feel it is a play while we’re going down, I believe it is the act of saving the world.

 

I want to LIVE my ideals and dreams and positive vision of the world, I want to illustrate positive, rational, free-choice living in my life, so I am intent on trying to create a morally upright, honest, integrity-based life. And I have also acted wrongly in the past and you know how I fight against depression and other problems, but I am honest about it so I live the truth as an example of how we can all choose to be positive, even when the world presents us with problems.

 

Also, I want to show love to people. Today I’m wearing all pink, and my imaginary characters are cuddling in pink fleece – nothing more so as they can go on indefinitely in warmth and happiness– in softness and warmth and a glow of happiness suffusing them and growing bigger and bigger in the world –cheeks glowing, lips smiling with joy and eyes glowing with vitality and hope – singing and hugging – and Alice is running about with shiny eyes, wearing a pink smock and snow-white apron…

 

And there goes the day, and I think this message is an investment in positive feelings and eternity and that the soap bubbles of joy and hope is more valuable and precious than any amount of work I might have done – and maybe someone will blow up the building and we can happily start cleaning the debris and no need to work on boring documents – oh JOY!

 

I hope you don’t find my ideals and modus operandi ridiculous, and if you do, that you will break the news gently – us mad people are very sensitive. And I know I don’t live with integrity as I have confessed my inability to stick to a work ethic, but it is your choice to point out shortcomings that I can work on, and as I explained to my other critic, criticism makes me feel important and it is the loveliest feeling there is.

 

Warmest regards, Margaret Alice.