Showing posts from December, 2011

Set of Six For The Least Popular Month

Some people love New Year (of course I do, I love almost everything) some people think it's just repetitive nonsense (they buy five year diaries) but not many people care for January, as this is traditionally the time to be cold, broke, fat and bored. All cycles are repetitive if you go round like a hamster in a wheel, it should be more of a spiral if you want to enjoy the ride. Have a destination, don't be restrictively obsessed by it, enjoy the journey and Have A Happy New Year!

After the gluttony comes January. Unpalatable cold Vegetable juice month of Icy treasureless bank vaults
If only we could sell off that Excess fat. Attempt optimism Devise detox for an altered life It’s a harsh start, feeling that pinch
Toxins dig their dirty nails in Spear the fretful sense of self Will the butterfly emerge? What if it’s One of those boring brown ones?
Delicate designs wobble at ground level Above the constant mining Safe cover remains an option Not viable for the success of the plan
Insipid sun…

The Sluicing Machine

Specially dedicated to everyone who has washed their clothes by hand, not by choice. Especially if you have had a sick baby. I would love a dry toilet, I barely clean my house, my carbon footprint is petite, but life without a washing machine? That would take some convincing. 
351 Somewhere a woman is dreaming Of the dance, where she feels Most awake, most herself, most alive But when the dream is done, don’t ask
352 Clothes curl foetal in the shushing Sluicing machine, my most loved appliance Daily, to my rescue; I have laboured Over bathfuls of fabric, enough, enough
353 Somewhere another family wakes, perplexed By unfamiliar walls and ceilings and curtains drawn Having slept soundly in their new home; happiness Settles swiftly, after the months of waiting
354 Without a machine for laundering garments Stamping on the grubby stuff in soap-scum Is the congenial stage. The sodden wretched Back aching task is rinsing out, wringing out
355 As a child I studied my mother’s hands, so Creditable against my bl…

First Visualise Your Roast

If you ever do get stuck in a menu rut, try picking a weekly theme. We initially thought we would do this for a year, but it lasted about two weeks- Mexican and Renaissance. Tequila slammers is not a balanced meal, in spite of the healthy lemon wedges. 

341 Boy steps carefully, eyes to ground Mist disperses into temperate air Follows his footprints up the lane Lingering, hovering
342 Ground mist leaves grudgingly Forms nostalgic clouds, inclined to Reunite with the solid earth Incomplete, suspended
343 Mr inspects his list of doing things Weighs up weather, deliberates winter And the firewood situation, he knows how Many logs in the shed, calculates nights of fires
344 My list is immediate. Without parsnips The roast is not what we have envisioned Details make a life, meal by meal Layers of flavour assemble
345 I will walk into town, in my town clothes Not too muddy. Also raincoat and rubber Boots; I have noted the pensive air Pocket my shopping list for ease of access
346 This weathered red leather should…

There was even a tablecloth

The outside table is made out of an old pallet. It has a rustic charm, especially with a tablecloth. By night, candle lit, it is one of the most beautiful places on earth, as voted by me, Mr & Boy. We love the space we're in.

331 This morning we are written Cursively across the ground floor Comments scroll the length of Joined up lines of liking
332 Breakfast can squash us in at the tiny table We are pleased to share cramped proximity When it sprawls out, the fundamental cohesion Persists, and elbows can relax
333 Convention is considered, on merit, sometimes Respected, often, almost inattentively, pushed Into something workable, and it works, like art Because of the strength of the basic structure
334 Boy regards the sky, eyebrow raised Rain is a possibility but he will be ok To walk to school up the lane which Becomes a small river when wet
335 Cheap shoes and adventure, I wish they Were a more agreeable mix. As the limits of Language are the restrictions of understanding Adventure is curbe…

Lips in Stitches

The way we have breakfast does vary. We don't have to share a table, because we share living here, in our lovely, ridiculous swamp, and that means we have to be a team, or there is no fire, no jam, no cider, no comfort and no fun. Laughing is still more important than wishes! 

321 Pour porridge oats, the texture Yielding and rough, mix to taste, Mine is a thick paste, undercooked And flavoured with jam
322 This morning I choose quince From the jam scrap jars massing In the fridge, dump a spoonful Into the chipped bowl of hot oats
323 By western standards we are Not wealthy, nevertheless Five kinds of jam can be found Here in our refrigeration device
324 Boy likes supermarket generic Hoops and milk, he holds the bowl With 2 equidistant flaws, while he Heckles the stats of the M1 Grant tank
325 Mr, after walking twice through The house, spectacle hunting, settles For hoops and milk, sat at his laptop Folds it out like a morning paper
326 I think I dream as much by day Not to escape, to reiterate Things p…

The Second Coffee

Boy (what we call him, not his real name) is always going outside just to see what's about. Ice is a particular fascination. He has a natural scientific curious exploratory type of mind. We found some human bones once, but we were exploring an abandoned church crypt. 

311 Signs of this family rousing From sleep; Footsteps Toilet flushes, mumbling Retraced steps for things forgotten
312 Cereal bowls take their Morning journey, cups swoop From hooks, kettle flies To tap and back, spoon tray clatters
313 Dog stares it is her Jedi mind Trick to get breakfast Every morning her bowl is Replenished, clever mind trick
314 Washing machine jaw opens On a side hinge, dirty clothes Stuffed in to rumble Through the belly drum
315 Second coffee. Around this Percolated calm, problems arise But the lost trousers will be Inevitably, in the airing cupboard
316 Other lost items materialise, such as shoes Drying on the hearth-stone, and they are Found to be not in the place they were left And no, forgetfulness cannot explain…

Guano for the Soul

When in doubt, celebrate- one of my favourite life rules. It is more cheerful than sensible.  This was not factory farmed pig, incidentally, which is why we had to wait for a bargain before we could indulge. Overall, we aim for responsible freedom, which is cheerful, sensible and affordable on a limited income. And string does make a good drawer handle, although after some years of heavy use the one on the cutlery drawer has frayed and needs replacing. 

301 Easing back to tired, sitting On a rickety chair, eyes shut The sun rises, later than me Bathes this weary face in light
302 Quiet time, before the Post arrives, before I vex Over what disturbances may Slap down on the doormat
303 If just a little bit more arrives Than departs, my guarded   Jubilant budget will dissipate Exasperating material frets
304 Necessity has mothered some Invention and adopted some Attitude. We have replaced the Broken drawer handles with string
305 Inventive resources are Guano for the soul; sit the Baby down with a car…

Tae Kwon Do Tale 2

Exciting new work from the winner of the prestigious Best Bonkers Ghost Story TAGB Summer Camp 2010!
How Kwon Recovered From Death, Which Is Usually Quite Fatal
Kwon was not just not like other ducks. He was not like other mortal creatures. He stood out in his family, as his parents and grandparents and brothers and sisters, and everyone but him, were in the normal range of duck forms and sizes. He stood out in the world, being 18 feet tall with steel kneecaps, sharp teeth and a fist on the end of each wing. This is not enough to explain how, after dying in terrible agony from a spattering of partially digested exceptionally poisonous smelly troll food, he managed to get better. To understand this, the story must go back to before he was born, to the time that Kwon’s parents, Mr and Mrs Noodle, were excitedly expecting their first batch of eggs.
Mrs Noodle was anxious about the safety of her babies, so she asked Mr Noodle to find a mountain peak to build a nest on, to be up out of the w…

Set of Six for Christmas

Whatever else you do over the winter holidays, time spent eradicating barriers to newly resonating embracement* is never time wasted.
(*Playing with tinsel, or tree baubles, or anything shiny)

String and foil makes tinsel, simple Ingredients, which the youngest And the oldest absorb best, one For novelty, one for resonance
This is how I learn Christmas My mother carries a tray, she Is in her dressing gown, smiling, a Whole mug of bubbly chocolate each
In twists of plastic and electric Berry sized bulbs, recollections Accumulate, associate, illuminate Impressionable years of imagination
The tradition with Dog is to gather all Discarded wrapping paper into one Cardboard box, drop in one dog treat Say ‘Find’ and cheer on the shredding
Cat will sit in her basket knowing, turkey Scraps are coming, soliloquising, solemn faced On canine clowning, as though a piece of Twitched tinsel couldn’t cause kittenish pouncing
There is bewitchment in the twitching Glimmer of tinsel, it can eliminate weight Of expectation,…

Back to the drunk, and the dance

291 The man who drank to forget Wakes up. He shakes as he moves from Bed to bathroom, his world is shattered This is the ice-cold start to living alone
292 He has reached out his hand To the other side of the bed, pressed His palm on flat blankets, across the Slight hollow in the mattress
293 In loss, an imprint exists, it is No less transient than the life Of the memory that holds it Nor any less unique or precious
294 The whole solar system has a shelf life Making perspective simple from intellectual Angles. Life is more than cerebral for people Stars have life cycles not funeral rites
295 Ketchup has been left with the lid off Sticky and vulnerable like a tracheotomy It’s mostly sachets in cafes these days Split open heart-pods lying on side plates
296 She wakes naked with achy feet, parched Skin, echoing head, seeks comfort in Pulsation of water, the congruous Drum of indoor plumbing
297 Oh the beautiful drops tap their cadence On weary skin, thumpy bones, tight Connective tissue, everything Eases in lemony f…

About Not Rolling Crap In Glitter

A Seasonal Message
'Furthering my quest to appreciate life, to actually be bothered to find the extraordinary in the ordinary detail of life, I have set myself this task. I use the word miracle to describe the act of seeing the moments where something wonderful is happening (if you are looking at it correctly.) I think I need about 41.66 per hour to cover 24 hours. Further miracle reports to follow.' [1,000 Miracles In One Day]
'You can't polish a turd, but you can roll it in glitter.'
A Compare and Contrast of these statements is more serious than you might think! The second one is much funnier and more quotable. The first one takes a liberty with the word miracle which may raise an amused eyebrow. But! If you can be bothered to have a think about it, if you can be bothered to try finding your own, you might get a longer deeper happiness buzz by learning to see what is beautiful in your life, and then you can take the turd, compost it and grow a metaphorical sequin tre…

290: Eaten by heat

We don't use the microwave everyday, but it is bright red and regularly admired by us. Unlike the rest of The Microwave Corner, which is an annoying mess. Other house place names are The Useful Drawer, The Wurlitzer and the Box Office. 

281 In the cool clear blue sky, the sunlight Liberated from mist, skims over white Fleece surface, splits through a teardrop Gem circling in the kitchen window
282 The kitchen is warmed and filled With cuts of rainbow light from the Gyratory crystal. Shut my eyes, put the Sun on my face, have a tropical moment
283 Temperatures trigger sense memory; from The squashed breath-recycling aircraft aisle I drag my crumpled self out to the sensation Of engulfment, the warm air swallows me up
284 I am inside the belly of heat, feel the haze Of absorption, the ground heat of airport tarmac Wants to digest me, I am assimilated, then Freeze-shocked by arrival-lounge air-conditioning
285 The traffic baffles, there are vehicles of Preposterous proportions, they swarm like Metal fish …