...and sometimes a little doggerell (for those who cant exercise a large one)

Rhyming in the dark.....

Sometimes when days are dark and drear

I wonder why we all are here

Requited loves debarred by fate

The unrequited doomed and chaste

The stale ones soldier on and on

Until the youngest child has gone

The pensioners whose daily spite

Seems to be their only light

As hissing disapproving whispers

Form drops of spittle on old whiskers

So why the power that love exerts

When living teaches us it hurts?

A Funny Old Life

More Cheaper Than A Phone Call

For those unfamiliar with the work of Pat Ingoldsby, his website may be of some assistance http://www.patingoldsby.com/ ... or even better, in fact much much betterer: go and buy some of his books. NOW.

More Cheaper Than A Phone Call

If you dip your finger into the sea

at Dollymount Strand

as far as I am concerned

you are making indirect contact

with India and Australia

and places like that.

Supposing that the woman you love

is in North Africa

and you are in Ireland.

You could both agree on an exact time

when to dip your hand into the Irish Sea

and she dips hers into the Mediterranean

and you both waggle them to and fro

sending ripples toward one another.

It is truly romantic and deeply symbolic

and you will never become pregnant

no matter how much waggling you do.

It will give you both

an acute sense of togetherness

unless a shark comes along

and bites off your fingers

while you are doing it.

Love Hurts.

Pat Ingoldsby

 

A thought at Christmas time

This is supposed to be the season to be jolly, or so the rumour goes. Why then are we not happy?

I look at my friends and acquaintances, some of whom are in pain or struggling with money, relationships, addictions or sadness. The ones who are suffering most seem to feel it most keenly at this time of year. As a society we seem to have a sub-conscious expectation that Christmas will make it all better, at least temporarily. 

For some it does bring joy and laughter and temporary surcease - those who can surround themselves with friends or loved ones - but for those struggling with loss and burdened by a heavy emotional load it often makes things much worse.

Have you ever spent christmas day on your own? And yes, I mean ALL of it - staying in the house, not meeting anyone, speaking to no one. I have, just once - many years ago. I never felt lonelier in my whole life.

So: if you have a friend who is going to be alone this Christmas, please think how that must feel. If you gain any insight at all then you may find that your food needs to stretch to one more guest.

A Funny Old Life

The creeping chill rolls down the banks

Collects as freezing fog 

The grass 

Nearly the shortest day

The creeping chill rolls down the banks

Collects as a freezing fog and sets

The plants are brittle and white 

The walkers think a seat

By the fire and tea

Would be a

Dream

A Funny Old Life

On a memory

There is a place, a small market town not far from here - I have been there only once.

I considered returning there today but did not, the thought of doing so made me somehow uneasy, as if to do so would be dissonant and wrong.

On considering this carefully, clarity came to me.

It's significance, this place which must seem so ordinary, so routine and hence so nondescript to those who live there, is hugely special to me for a reason.

There was an instant in time when I was nailed to my chair, the strong cap on the wellspring of my emotions was sledgehammered away and my life changed completely: and all by the softest glance.

Today was cold, dry and frosty.

The grass in the park where we walked hand in hand would not have been lush, verdant, mown the day before and scented.

The tree where we sat would be leafless and bare, not richly green and whispering in the warm light air.

The bench where we kissed would have been icy and damp.

The significance of this place, to me, is centered on one person who cannot be with me. Without her I will not return.

I prefer to remember it, frozen in time, on a single summer's day. Perfect, idyllic, vivid in my mind and very, very precious: it is for the best then that I do not return and cloud the memory of it with anything less.

A Funny Old Life

Promise

Gold in the light

Breathing so slowly

Warmed by the winter sun

Gathering strength for

The spring storms and 

The promise of things to come

Old, Cold, Sleeping

Old, cold, asleep

But spring will come

A Funny Old Life

On the art of reaching a conclusion when one is between the devil and the deep blue sea

Sometimes in life we face a major decision, one which we know will have significant future effects not only on ourselves but upon those near and dear to our hearts.

This is never easy, and actually should not be considering the gravity of an issue with profound and far reaching impacts.

If I were to offer any advice to others, from my own experience of doing this for both good and ill, then it is this:

1) Decide to whom one owes the greatest duty.

2) Place their needs first along with your own (disregarding one's own may be heroic but always leads to inherently bad long term decisions, as I know only too well).

3) I have found that there is often some small piece of information missing, realisation not reached or conclusion as yet undrawn which makes the overall situation more clear - ask yourself what you DONT know that you need to know and endeavour to find out.

Aside from that, there is little advice that I can give except ALWAYS choose Marmite on ones toast.

A Funny Old Life

 

Thought for the day

dum spiro, spero

A Funny Old Life

A thought on a dark Sunday evening...

I have, in recent months, become acquainted with the translated works of Pablo Neruda. I regret not speaking Spanish to read the originals as they are intended. Even the translations I have read are rich, vivid and compelling; I share this purely for its beauty.

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms

but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;

thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,

risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,

so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda

Restless on a sleepy Sunday

A better day yesterday although I collapsed into bed and sleep at 10pm - my work is done until Monday - today there is nothing that I must do, apart from look after the house, my son and house guests - no work!

So, to the person or persons reading this, a good day to you and I hope that your day is also one of rest.

I feel restless though and I suspect I will be engaged on some project or another before the hour is out.

The battle recommences once more on Monday - see you in the fray.

A Funny Old Life 

A feel a stirring in the force.........

Not a great day today

I must, unexpectedly, work the weekend - and I had promised myself two days off - working too hard, hours too long, very tired all the time.

My ex-wife is deeply upset - too many changes in too short a time and while I am no longer in love with the woman, I do feel for her.

And then, a colleague gets greedy - and applies pressure to collect on what he perceives as weakness in one who has always treated him with honour and respect. Not a pleasant thing: a breach of ethics and a personal insult. 

The one person I could talk to about this in detail is unavailable: I miss her terribly - and I know she is also suffering, for entirely different reasons. Time then to seek the bourn of sleep - hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

A Funny Old Life

Waiting in the silence.......

Sometimes, when friends are out of contact and the world seems a slightly colder place, I look out of my window at the pale winter sunlight on the trees. I wonder what befalls those whom I love, hope they are well and happy and know that their silence is not a slight: just a consequence of circumstance. 

How to let them know that all is well here? Telepathy perhaps, the assistance of a medium, an e-mail (they are not online and wont be for quite some time perhaps) or, Lord preserve us, a letter via that  slightly slow and occasionally unreliable organisation, the Royal Mail? Enough of such attempts to circumvent the compulsion of events.

Simply stated, in black ink, all is well here and I hope the same is true for those I hold dear.

A Funny Old Life

Officialdom - An Allergic Reaction

For many years my wife carried out much of the administration for the house: we separated in June of this year and she now resides at another address. Hence a simple request to transfer the TV license for my house to my own name. 

I am unsure why a trivial, if slightly obstructive letter from some official should provoke this reaction in me.

But it does; every time.............

Dear Sir

Thank you for contacting us.

A television licence is legal permission, given to the person named on it, to install and use television equipment at the address shown on the licence.

As it is a legal permission we need the signed authority of the named licence holder before we can transfer the licence to another person and then only if they lived with the licence holder as part of their family unit during the period for which the licence is valid.

In the circumstances, can you please resubmit your request, in writing, to the above address.

I am sorry my reply must be disappointing, but I hope this has clarified the situation for you.

To assist us with your response, please ensure that you quote [insert random number/letter string here] in the subject line of your email.

Yours sincerely

Mr TV Licensing

Dear Mr TV Licensing

I assume that your somewhat bizarre and excessive administrative requirements now require me to approach my wife, cap in hand, for yet another signature; or perhaps a letter written in her own hand, witnessed by two independent persons of good character, sound mind and without criminal conviction or the status of an elected official is that which you require?

Please make your requirements pellucidly clear so that I can then respond to them successfully at the first attempt.

In previous correspondence with your good selves, on another matter: an attempt to persuade you that my leased office was not a place in which a television would be viewed, used, housed, stored or even thought of took several letters and months to resolve. I have neither the time nor patience to repeat the exercise.

Interestingly, I do not even watch the wretched device: the content available seems entirely composed of trivia, half-truths, simplifications and, frankly, propaganda.

I trust you will make your requirements clear in your response - I shall then act on them - but not until. Any letters or response deemed to be threatening correspondence, and here I reflect on my previous experiences with your department, will elicit no response whatsoever apart from a stony silence - I do not believe in encouraging bad mannered behaviour.

In the final analysis, it may be simpler to dispose of the receiving equipment and not renew this legal permission in any form.

Yours Sincerely

A Funny Old Life

"Thank you for playing.................."