Reflections Of A Dislexsic
leaving
songs have said the time has come
days are dragging melancholy and long
tensions run high as time gos by
Apprehension burns with flames that
clip at my will, the will to leave is ashen
Spring has come an ode to poems
of regrowth and new beginnings
while winter settles in my hart
as I prepare to face the world alone
I look for strength from within
I know its there, hidden well
deep and sure, steadfast and strong
from the first each day will just be one day
no future no past just peace till the last
I've earned this I say, I deserve it, it seems
but theres a price Ill pay some day
Oh destiny, let that price be within my reach
Why do it Again
We all remember our school days of sour milk in little bottles, stale lunches and the dreaded detentions. At the same time learning the five basic food groups -perhaps mum missed that bit- and good health, where if memory serves, we learnt the mechanics of reproduction, while the boys sniggered down the back.
So lets go back and do it all again. I don't think so! Those that sprout such rubbish obviously went to some utopia that we mere mortals never found.
We went to St Affairs Public Catholic Girls School! We knew from the word go who was in charge. The nuns you might guess. Wrong! The P&C perhaps. Wrong! Ah must have been the pupils. If only. No it was Father Croked. Honestly that was his name. He lorded it over his entire domain, nuns swooned in his path daily and craved his company nightly. Where were we? Busy being seen but not heard, For if a child had the misfortune of being heard in His Graces' presence the poor soul immediately received six of the best delivered with a crystal brush. Our nuns had style. All this was so much fun of course I want to do it all again.
To lighten the atmosphere there were the never ending round of crazes to look forward to. Take elastics (Please) at this I excelled or would have if I could have found my feet. They were usually left pointing skyward with gravel rashes on my elbows. Jacks would have been fun if I had ever had the money to buy them or even eaten the sheep that hid the originals.YoYo's looked good but when I got my hand on one it had a life all of its own. It promptly smacked me in the head resulting in nine stiches. But with stocking ball I was on a roll. This game involved a Brick wall, a Stocking and a Tennis ball. I would stand with my back to the wall and swing the ball from side to side. As no other players were needed and I didn't nearly kill myself I was estatic with success, until the nuns gave me a caning -yes in style- for ruining my best stockings.Yes take me back! Let me suffer all this again. Or better still you do it for me.
Beeing
Fear is cold they say
fear is empty I'm told
life is diminutive I know
then to cherish the
cold and empty
enhances the being
Laughter is rare they say
aughter is cleansing I'm told
Lifes exhilarating I know
then to cherish the
rear and cleansing
intensifies the being
Misery is company they say
misery is defeating I'm told
Life goes on I know
then to cherish the
company and defeating
strengthens the being
Satisfaction is sparse they say
Satisfaction is purification I'm told
lifes inspiring I know
then to cherish the
sparse and purification
reproduces the being
White Storm
Snow Flurries! Wind Explosions! Bones Throbbing with cold! Jennet pulled into the Service Station. She had six hours of her shift to go. The two way was alive with jobs as no one wanted to drive in these conditions and after all Taxis were cheaper when compared with drunk driving charges.
The Service Station was brimful with Trucks and iridescently yellow clad men obviously S.E.S workers, ready to combat the elements yet again on behalf of the cowering citizens of Goulburn. Jennet approached one of the men and tyred to shriek above the blare of the wind "is the road to Taralga still open" He nodded as it was easier to do then with sudden after thought adding "but not for long love". Her heart sank. There goes the nights takings not only for her but also her husband Des.
She drove off trying to locate Des but with visibility at a minimum she found the task impossible. She picked up the mike. To make contact.
They met and picked up their old battered XD after digging it out of the snow. No heater! Icy vinyl seats! Glacial wind screen! They travelled the forty five kilometres home. The snow was blowing Murderously across the road. they discovered it was better to leave the wipers off and let the wind do the job instead.
After tow and a half hours it was a delight to the hart to see there home town at the bottom of the last hill. The wind had departed so it looked like something out of a fable with a blanket of snow hiding the lacerations of civilisation. Above the clouds had moved on to plague some other part of the would and the sky was awash with ferry lights.
Discard Treaters
when its old its thown away
when it useless its put aside
when its broken its replaced
worn..forgoten ..soiled..
where do children fit in here
The Gift
There is a place I take my mind when suffering from the careless verbal barbs the world hurls my way. You may not shear my place as for each of us it is different but if you follow me ill lead you to its peace and solitude. You have to picture this as you read. Filling your mind with the images. Take your time and let the tranquillity wash over you.
It is a hot dry breathless day, the dust swirling at your feet, the air heavy with the smells of summer. The sound of the cercarders in the trees fills the surroundings with noise.
I lead you to a clearing where deep emerald moss covers the forest floor,... cushioning your every steep.... The sound of water reachers you,.... turning to see a small brook flowing gently past you,... you lower your self to the ground,.... relaxing in to the soft silky moss,.... letting your fingers dip into the cold clear water that has come from the virgin melting snow high in the mountains..... flowing over the base of the stream turning the rocks to smooth glossy pebbles,....eroding them to ghosts of there former forms..... you relax your body letting the chill of the water move up your arm striping you of the will to move.....The branches over head sawing in a slit breeze..... letting a dappled subdued light dance over you.....as you listen to the bird song fill the air.... Time has no meaning as nature in her wonder takes you by her magnificence....Slowly and with infinite love healing your internal being....Your mind now empty of worldly cares,.... filling with the sites and sounds around you....as the achenial leaf floats down to land softly on your skin.
This is a place that you may visit as often as you need and take with you where ever you go...it is a place of love not a place to love.
Where Am I
Microscopic...Forsaken ...Shattered...Absent...Disconnected..
Has my being become?
Barren...........Still...........Deep..........Watchful...
Has my concuss evolved?
Seeking ......Thirsting.....Wonting....
Has my spirit awakend?
Dreaming .....Looking .......
Has my identity risen?
ALIVE....
Shakespeare is not Relevant to Todays society
It is hard to know whether Shakespeare's has out lived his usefulness in today's society or not. There are conflicting views. Which will be discussed. With Parallels drown from his plays.
There are many directors who still produce Shakespeare's plays. Whether he would recognise them is a delicate topic for debate. We are told he was an author for the people if this be true he would have no problem with how his works have been changed. Shakespeare understood the need to please the audience so would not be upset by today's directors changes nor the contemporary style that they use.
That his plays and writing still make money hand over fist is a indirection that they are time less. Entertainment is what ever people are prepared to pay for.When considering Shakspeare one might think this atertude to be mercenary but he was often in need of cash so produced many of his plays at a furious pace in order to pay the land lady.
Many students still study Shakespeare to-day at the primary and secondary (tertiary) level while Tutors are enthusiastic about Shakespeare's plays there is the problem of students not being comfortable with the language. When this handicap is overcome then the essence of his plays becomes clear.
It is hard to conceive of a more fitting tale than Romeo and Juliet when one looks at life and love. There are many parents who perceive their offspring's choice of partners as unwise. This is as true today as it has ever been. It is to be hoped that the out come of parental distaste is a little less violent now then then.
In Henry the fourth the character of Falstaff is typical of people the average person comes in contact with more often than one would like, or be aware of. Shakespeare's brings a colourful tapestry of characters alive within his plays. He weaves a story round the extraordinary and the bland with a quietude that pleases the senses in both cases. So it is easy to see that love, hate, lust and the day to day dramas of life are dealt with in such a matter of fact way that the echo of our own lives reverberates around the theatre.
Worthy of note is that audiences around the world sit in the same rapture so not only does Shakespear bridge the time gap but the racial gap as well. Audience accepting Macbeth is a classic case of suspended belief systems. While all adults know there is no such thing as witches we are prepared to sit in stunned silence as they cavort around the stage and cook up a magical delight in their cauldron. In a production at the Canberra play house the witches where replaced by aliens. This is a recognised form of poetic licence and was implemented in an effort to drag the play into the 20th century.
Many of the themes in Henry V ring true still: From old men declaring war and young men dying, to making the punishment fit the crime. Our court system has become over complicated trying to accomplish a just system. When the French sit around and discuss who has the best horse or armour one can almost hear modern day men compering their cars and computers. Although the possessions change the obvious pride in possessing transcends time. Shakesprare is clearly releivant today.
One of the most moving scenes is when Hal prays before the battle. He tells God all he has given to him adding that he expects to win and will give even more when England wins the war. Ironically we still see much the same attitude today of people bragging of what they have given to God.
The cut and thrust of politics today is perhaps a little less violent then in Shakespeares time but the emations are the same. If what we see on TV is any indication of the battles that go on at parliament house, it is a good thing we have given up the sword for words even if they can cut nearly as deep.
Our belief system has not change since Shakespeares time and like the people he wrote for we are prepared to be amused, bemused and delighted in the complex and simplicity he brings to us with his plays.Shakespeare's work is just as relevant today as it was in the past and will be in the future.\
Bibliography
Bell, John, 28/5/98, "Henry 1V", The Bell Shakespeare Company, Playhouse Canberra.
Bell, John, Macbeth, The Bell Shakespeare Company, Playhouse Canberra.
Branagh, Kenneth, 1991, Henry V, Renaissance Films, PTY, P.L.C, Columbia Pictures, Hoyts, Video. PTY, LTD.
Hibbard,G.R,Edited, 1981, Romeo and Juliet enguin Books, Ltd, Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England.
Storm
Hot, dusty day baked earth under bear feet.
Shade tree hanging close over you
sheltering you from the sun's glare.
Sky washed out lazy blue.
Slit breeze carrying the sent of gums
clouds gathering
breeze picking up
ozone filling the air
thunder rolling in from a far
the first fat raindrops kicking up the dust in little spurts
as they wash the heat from you.
Discard Treshers
when its old its thown away
when it useless its put aside
when its broken its replaced
worn..forgoten ..soiled
where do children fit in here
we say the young are inersent
then we cast them away
ignoring their silent pleas
written deep within their eyes
turning our heads and harts
fearful we might respond
does time heal all wounds
will they be made hole or
face life not knowing love
broken in spirit and joy
only half alive !
Sleep
heave laden eyes
elusive when needed
consuming when taken
coferting when peaceful
to drif in the twilight world
mind wondering without restraint
images floating to the serfess
the world of cearless identity
kings made poerpers
porpers to kings
knowing no limits lovers holding hands
worlds never seen becoming reality
time without essence
essence without time
relaxst, worm, hassy, wounderus
Good night
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