I turn to wake up

Tags

2014, 7*, authority, breakdown, Carol, determination, doors, dream, Emily, future, heart, Hillside, home, humiliation, identity, innocence, life, managerialism, neglect, power, presumption, pupils, responsibility, sound, streets, teachers, teaching, time, toilet, uniform, waking

the e-mail that clanked dank in my heart
                the report I hadn’t written
                                for so long, for Emily
[her future all depends on it, poor Emily, she is so innocent and so pretty she deserves all the future she can get and You are neglecting her of it with your own languid longevity] but I will

                                NOT be responsible for future lives
                when I am ill from the presumption which doesn’t let me
even crap in private outside my own backdoor pan-in-the-yard
                they have called for me at my front door
                                with the brusqueness of a uniform
                                                with the presumption of amoral (sic)
                                                                even here
                                                the uniform and the outside toilet in my own house:                
                the humiliation could not be more complete so
I pull the hood of my dressing gown over my head
                and sink out of the dream

                                This Will Not Be

                                                I rouse Carol from
                                                                her own dream
                                                and drift somewhat back to …
                                … pupils all around the street
                                                they
                                                should
                                                not be
                                                there but only I
                of all the teachers in my front room
go out to front and tell them –
                command of my righteousness –
                                that they should not be there they should be BEHIND the house
                                                behind the house
                                but they turn languid
                and run round the corner down the street, they know
they don’t have to listen to me and
                I am powerless because
                                I am ill

                                I am so fed up with this
                                                I turn myself to wake up
                                                                I turn to wake up

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breakdown wormhole: slow enough / to have love
Carol wormhole: St. Mark’s flies flagpole upwards / with the forelegs hanging down obscene / reaching some height blindly to connect / out from the long-stalk tri-separating up- / to-seeded rounds of pod like acacia what / is it called “‘hogweed’ I-don’t-know- / what-it’s-called-but-goats-love-it-and- / it-makes-them-burp-a-lot”
doors & life wormhole: every step I take
dream wormhole: make your rickety / constructs strong with / unbending grids / of attention and wide- / open grates of let
Hillside wormhole: tag cloud poem IX – haiku is awkward / the more that is left in / like uncombed hair
identity wormhole: dear Lucy
managerialism wormhole: ‘let them slide off …’
power wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams
sound & streets wormhole: while
teaching wormhole: dream I // dream II
time wormhole: this time

 

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slow enough / to have love

Tags

2013, adjustment, ageing, breakdown, choice, confusion, consistency, doing, freedom, land, living, love, Martin Luther King, mountain, option, presumption, quiet, recognition, saviour, secret, shame, streets, stumbling, true nature, wasteland, work

                I used to skip and side-step all the
                too-presumptive adjustments
                for consistency and do it all

                in my own sweet way
                secretly hoping for recognition
                shamefully thinking to be the saviour

                now I’m confused and made old
                stumbling and doddering by the
                too-many prescriptive options to

                exercise the choice I am offered
                so I continue to do it all in my
                own sweet way, quiet enough

                to be effective, ignored enough
                to have scope and slow enough
                to have love; I have come to

                the top of the mountain and I have
                escaped a promised land
                four times injured to within

                an inch of my own true nature
                and I roam the streets and wastelands
                now, free at last, free at last

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breakdown wormhole: strain
doing wormhole: lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening / skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling / the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo / for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light
living wormhole: written relief to / creeping anaesthesia / through palimpsest / and crankled page
love wormhole: handsome
recognition wormhole: not / the Catcher
streets wormhole: landscape of cloud over London / with differing depths of grey
work wormhole: just saying, is all VII: // `spolitical

 

strain

Tags

2017, 7*, breakdown, career, identity, music, nude, openness, retirement, sound, vinyl

                I’ve lost the needle that settles
                between grooves and plays the circling music

                on fluff the arm skates across the ridges
                making awful rip of a career

                it skints along a ridge edge – wedges in,
                bounces out – a scratch to repeat

                against all reasonable hope that it might not;
                I cannot hear the pops and crackles,

                the greeting space before the
                opening strain, awaiting nudity

 

retirement #7: Virginia Woolf’s first novel was ‘the Voyage Out’; she wrote much of it as she experienced two breakdowns and a number of stark bereavements; this is not a trip to venture and return, this is a discovery to venture and change; so much changes between generation, within and across lives, the further you travel the deeper you stay where you are; read the whole sequence: in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breakdown & retirement wormhole: what wounds have you got?
career wormhole: seen but not heard
identity wormhole: brown corduroy shirt / and dark redwine tie
music wormhole: within
openness wormhole: 1968
sound wormhole: ssreet chak-chak

 

what wounds have you got?

Tags

'scape, 2010, 5*, breakdown, career, depression, ghosts, identity, results-led education, self, snow, sound, teaching, voices, wind

                           part V

I have been in, but not part of, the stadium for such a long time
it is here, all about and above, creaking, flapping, I
had thought it didn’t exist at all; it is cardboard and canvas
standing up against the inevitable winds, and snow

so much construction, so little structure, so little warmth
it is cold here in this quiet wasteland, but I sit
to one side now – out of the way – and shut my ears
to the noises and voices.   I still have a lamp.   I try

to keep warm by it.   I can’t see them – out in the night
and cold – are there any other souls lost, out there?
Come and join me over here.   If we sit together
I can get quite a lot of heat from this lamp.   Let’s see –

what wounds have you got?

 

since this was written and published years ago I have subsequently and finally retired … from being the ‘ghost with open wound‘; I am now, just cold

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breakdown wormhole: monument to vainglory
career & teaching wormhole: everwhile
depression wormhole: beepbeep
ghosts wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – intemperance
identity wormhole: ah … // oh … // meanwhile … // … // tha ya ta …
results-led education & voices wormhole: just saying, is all VI: // accountable / for my own outbreath / …
snow & sound wormhole: open window
wind wormhole: time

 

monument to vainglory

Tags

2016, 8*, abandonment, autumn, branches, breakdown, brown, career, direction, element, freedom, getting ground, ground, horizontal, identity, institution, leaves, planet, rain, reaching, retirement, teaching, wind, work, yellow

                     where am I
                     cast free here

                     where the wind resolves
                     horizontal and

                     implacable between
                     the necessary institution

                     passageways;
                     I held on

                     long as I could
                     way after I’d turned

                     glorious yellow
                     wet, brown and pasted

                     to the bifurcating
                     branch, tensile to every gust;

                     because
                     I was tired of any

                     direction at all;
                     to the ground with me,

                     then,
                     stability and whimsical reach were

                     never my natural element,
                     open out to minute

                     breakdown
                     deep

                     into a revolving planet and
                     leave (ha!) myself

                     mulched to branch
                     monument to vainglory

 

retirement #1: a significant passage in life which doesn’t have a particular rite, religious or otherwise; I have retired since the beginning of this academic year – I had a flurry of written response when I holidayed in Granada, but since then, nothing; I have not been writing much, I have been cast adrift (the end of my career was what was left after my ability to keep going in to teach at school, eventually dissolved … fizzled) …

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

abandonment wormhole: beepbeep
autumn wormhole: 1964
branches wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Snow
breakdown wormhole: dry rot
brown wormhole: magnificent salad
career & teaching wormhole: just saying, is all VI: // accountable / for my own outbreath / …
identity & work wormhole: matter
leaves wormhole: Prajnaparamita // Maitreya
rain wormhole: balance
retirement wormhole: Granada holiday …
wind wormhole: 1964
yellow wormhole: … swap round

 

dry rot

Tags

2012, anger, breakdown, broken, care, career, creation, culture, decision, disregard, giving, growth, illness, management, managerialism, resentment, speech, survival, teaching, thought, work

 

 

 

                                dry rot

                                still

                resentment sets in
                                I go to work anyway
                but the resentment is always there
                                I create resources I mark books
                                I teach lessons
                but the resentment is always there
                                I do my fucking duty
                                I do an extra parent’s evening
                but the resentment is always there
                                some manager asks how I am
                                I tell them I survive
                                              (but I don’t tell them
                                               I don’t thrive –
                                               `not quick enough)
                but the resentment is always there

                I offered my thought
                               my creation
                               my care
                because I nurtured growth
                              I cultured way
                              I wanted to give

                                AND YOU PAUSED
                IN YOUR BUSY-NESS AND PRESSURE
                JUST LONG ENOUGH TO GET ON
                                WITH YOUR BUSINESS AND PRESSURE TO COMPENSATE THE OH, SO, ANXIETY OF
                                MAKING THOSE TOUGH DECISIONS FOR THE SAKE OF PROGRESS (PROFIT?)
                                TO OVERLOOK

                                what I continue to think
                                what is still on the table
                                              unopened
                                but which has lost the will
                                              to project anymore

                                              you

                                              make

                                              me

                                              sick

                you made me sick
                                you created a sick teacher
                even while I attend each day
                                for the sake of absence management
                even while I create and mark
                                for the sake of growth
                even while I sit through a meeting
                                which dribbles on about ‘good to outstanding’ until it is running down your neck
                still the resentment is always there
                                sticky invisible and malignant

 

I know: we’ve heard it all before; just indulge this little toddler for a little while longer, will you; it has only slightly altered since I wrote it a good four years ago, like being in a boat on the sea, buffeted and brûlée’d, looking for where the sky becomes screen and the prow rips through it (c’mon, film buffs, what am I talking about?)

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breakdown & management wormhole: Dear Sir/Madam,
career wormhole: need
giving wormhole: tong len / the inauguration of another – timely – butter fly effect / taking and giving
managerialism wormhole: what I am about to say is true / what I just said was a lie
speech wormhole: fine
teaching wormhole: aghh – we’ve been infected / it’s spreading through the system / we’re losing our files … / it’s taken out the processor … / I, I can’t open with this program anymore … / it’s scanning me – / I’ve got to buy a Virus Protection Program / from it …
thought wormhole: the both passive and transitive / non-presumptive pre-conceptualist attenuation of being
work wormhole: work

 

and that’s where I are

Tags

2016, Aleister Crowley, alley, appearence, birch, black, Bowie, breakdown, breeze, brick, building, car park, career, Carol, cars, cats, child, church, clothes, coffee shop, creativity, decision, Diane di Prima, disappearance, down, Eastbourne, emptiness, fear, form, grey, Heart Sutra, horizontal, humanity, identity, left, leg, looking, mother, muse, others, passing, pavement, plane, posture, quantum, rebellion, right, right angle, roads, school, searching, seeing, silence, silver, sitting, sound, spire, stain, stopped, streets, talking to myself, teaching, trees, up, vertical, waiting, walking, walls, William Carlos Williams, wind, writers, writing

            inner coffee shop

            so, is writing pointless,
            just rebellion from root
            just the muscling of me
            to spite the hard fear that

            I’ll turn to stone if I look
            into her face … `spite the
            knowledge that others are
            far more brave than me?

            St. Saviour & St. Peter

            so what draws me to sit,
            after all, on the roadside
            wall across from the spire
            clear for all to see the

            even bricks buttress, cap
            and flute up so high to
            eleven storeys to, maybe,
            the single point, with run-

            down stain and grimèd
line defining plane and vertical rightened quantum to the neat, surrounding parking and the passing upright
            humans both of public
            dress and private gait

                           360º

            and then the grey cat
            strolled from some-
            where left between
            silent cars to cross the

            road right – stopped –
            t’looka’leaf ‘n’ disappear
            up on wall by tree-sniff
            stop – fence? – no,

            down be-hind th’wall
            out through th’front
            windscreen ‘n’
            downastepps t’street

            to not appear where
            expected; ‘shut’, a mother
            leads a tot from front
            door to car …
                                   … still no appearance

            … … scamper with the
            wind behind as the car
            pulls away; maybe I should
            record this wh’appened all

            around breeze, strolled –
            stopped – by the wall
            back from b’hind m’left
            enters the gateway out

            by th’alleyway (with the
            bold and naked silver birch
            I hadn’t noticed);
                                          upover
            the fence [not attempted

            before] tadaaanother cat
            black treesniff checkleft
            then … left, jumptowall,
            jump to pavementstop;

            over the road frontleg
            onelick s t r o l l s car-
            shielded; black belly-slink
            low across the road; they

            walk away both from
            sight either side of the van;
            one tail up and wiggy
            one tail fluffy with spine

            these things all of great
            importance to spite the hard fact
            of my writing them,
            old Bull Williams would have

            and that’s where I are

 

there are expanses awkward to the landscape in writing sometimes: the technique is there, the shift can be made, but the will and excitement just isn’t; I have been reading Diane di Prima’s “Recollections of My Life as a Woman”, I greatly fed off her childhood but have languoured once she got into the Work; I have been reading about Aleister Crowley’s ‘Do What Thou Wilt’ awkward plane; I have a huge project ongoing writing poewieviews to David Bowie’s oeuvre – I am going to new lands but the luggage is heavy and awkward and requiring decisions which I don’t easily make; oh, and I am off work again, feeling un-plugged in to my own practice of vocation like a forlorn state-of-the-art food mixer; I spent a morning down in Eastbourne chauffeuring my wife around like the successful carer that she is; walking; sitting in a coffee shop; snagged at St. Saviour & St. Peter Church on the corner of Spencer Road and South Street, still pondering the relationship between multifarious form and the emptiness makes it dynamic; but it wasn’t until I sat back in the waiting car and watched the chess moves of two cats in the street that I stumbled across the full quote from the Heart Sutra: “form is emptiness; emptiness is form; emptiness is no other than form, form also is no other than emptiness”; but it wasn’t until I got home and shaped it all up from scribbles to column – with my ageing black AND white cat leaning against my foot – that I wondered if I still hadn’t quite got it yet (as William Carlos Williams, the great great practicer of ‘no poetry but in things’ said); and yet it has been satisfying finding not so …

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

birch wormhole: fine droplets / across the glass
black & grey wormhole: hinged – From Hell ch. V
Bowie wormhole: Quiver of / Tiffany – poewieview #20
breakdown & writing wormhole: nothing to write
breeze wormhole: strange / tarnish
buildings & silver & streets wormhole: crease and score of silver-morning sky
carer wormhole: just saying, is all IV: // lost
Carol wormhole: when in Belgium do as the chocolates do
cars wormhole: stacked
cats wormhole: new garden
child wormhole: dream 260815
church wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
coffee shop wormhole: ‘from under the awning …’
creativity & school wormhole: through
Eastbourne wormhole: along
emptiness wormhole: 1966 … actually sic // of it allllll-bsssssssh – poewieview #8
identity wormhole: dear clown’s face
looking & muse & sound wormhole: don’t look / at her eyes – poewieview #18
mother & silence wormhole: early evening
others wormhole: my // shell – poewieview #19
passing & posture wormhole: really
roads wormhole: sixty four sixty five – poewieview #1
searching wormhole: opening
seeing wormhole: where the goblins leered – poewieview #14
sitting & talking to myself wormhole: tong len / the inauguration of another – timely – butter fly effect / taking and giving
teaching wormhole: the MagOO Effect Effect
trees wormhole: Shonagh – poewieview #17
waiting wormhole: Saturday – poewieview #3
walking wormhole: b / r / e / a / t / h / i / n / g
walls wormhole: Nostalgia for Samsara – poewieview #16
[William Carlos] Williams wormhole: and then just stop
wind wormhole: keep the light off

 

nothing to write

Tags

2014, Ashdown Forest, being, between, books, Bowie, breakdown, breathing, Dionne Warwick, holiday, New York, reading, realisation, San Francisco, work, writing

                           nothing to write

                           time off between work
                                and holiday
                           between breakthrough
                                and breakdown
                           between in-breath
                                and out-breath

                           stuck between reading
                                several books
                           stuck between Bowie
                                and Warwick
                           stuck between the ruts
                                of Ashdown Forest
                                now that it is dry
                           always stuck between New York
                                and San Francisco
                           not knowing which way to turn

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

Ashdown Forest wormhole: I survived
being wormhole: the sounds of 1969 // [would have] seemed that way – poewieview #13
books wormhole: Grizedale College
Bowie wormhole: where the goblins leered – poewieview #14
breakdown wormhole: the MagOO Effect Effect
breathing wormhole: gentle
Dionne Warwick wormhole: 1963
holiday wormhole: ‘green plum jam on rye …’
reading wormhole: bookmark
realisation wormhole: the warp and the plumbing
work wormhole: seventy two, perhaps – poewieview #9
writing wormhole: a little bit of love / and muffle

 

the MagOO Effect Effect

Tags

2016, Big Picture, breakdown, career, cartoon, communication, conversation, CPD, detail, discussion, eyes, feedback, humour, identity, looking, management, Mr Magoo, observation, performance management, professional development, seeing, teaching

 

 

 

                                              the Magoo Effect

                when Management observe, they are All Eyes but only see
                                what you say
                                if it runs across a grid –
                                              they think they are doing sudoku –

                if they see what they think they see ‘Good, Good’
                                if they don’t see what you show them ‘Satisfactory’
                                              and no discussion
                                              – they saw it! –

                all the while mumbling about the Big Picture, they just
                                bump into things and have
                                              meaningful conversations with them
                                              which is gruellingly funny
                                              but never personal

C – o – n – t – i – n – u – i – n – g     P – r – o – f – e – s – s – i – o – n – a – l     D – e – v – e – l – o – p – m – e – n – t       

                                              looks me straight in the eye –
                myself and my work all open and akimbo on the desk – and says
                                let us observe you to see what you have
                                              to offer; creeped-out
                                              I still cannot recognise
                                              the development in all
                                              this performance
                                              I have to make:

                                the Magoo Effect

                                mistaking
                the apparent for the actual through seeing
                                selective detail

                                Performance Management
                is to Magoo the communication of teaching
                                into a cartoon

                get your eyes off my residuals

                                you’re embarrassing me

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breakdown wormhole: I survived
career wormhole: … anymore
communication & seeing wormhole: poessay X: soul love – poewieview #2
eyes wormhole: bookmark
looking wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
identity & management wormhole: development
performance management wormhole: what I am about to say is true / what I just said was a lie
teaching wormhole: bamboo-green boiled sweet / with soft purple filling

 

I survived

Tags

2013, abdomen, anger, Ashdown Forest, awareness, breakdown, childhood, depression, home, identity, lost, path, puddle, school, survival, walking

 

 

 

                           bad news from school
                           nonsense from school

                           tried to zombie into a
                           shooting game didn’t work

                           went for a walk on the forest
                           took my little boy with me

                           managed to notice myself being
                           angry reclusive revengeful

                           alright let’s find a new path
                           walk through puddles get lost

                           get sweaty remember my abs
                           get back home together it’s OK I survived

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

abdomen wormhole: the utter beauty of giving when receiving
Ashdown Forest wormhole: Ashdown Forest / 080213 14:47
awareness wormhole: Eridge – Cowden
breakdown wormhole: relapse
childhood wormhole: south horizon
depression wormhole: “write, let’s break outta here!”
identity wormhole: [s]
path wormhole: dream 260815
school wormhole: wriving
walking wormhole: Le Pont des Arts, 1907