agreed termination without prejudice

Tags

2016, 4*, bulb, communication, depression, despair, flower, growth, petals, retirement, stalk, teaching

                                how is the growth
                                from thorny stalk

                                to cuppèd bulb to
                                flowered petal made?

                agreed termination without prejudice

 

‘agreed termination without prejudice‘ is the phrase given when a teacher is too broken to try to return to work again for the seventh time in ten years, and both sides are so wearied of ‘the way things are‘ despite all the changes and accommodations made, other than what was actually needed; but I will snatch victory from the razor-sharp fog of defeat, I … shall not-ice

 

 

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

communication wormhole: green and / luminant / to behold
depression wormhole: without any buffet at all
retirement & teaching wormhole: after all

 

without any buffet at all

Tags

2015, 5*, acceptance, being, depression, green, identity, notice, panic, pointlessness, self-compassion, silence, surface, true nature, twilight, water

                                                surfacing
                                from a quiet sag – only noticed when
                surfacing amid the twilight sump,

                                                only
                                the silence of lapping remembered when damp seam and sole
                feel cold and slimely green –

                                                still
                                I do not know my true nature, panicking and gasping,
                wanting to float, wanting to hover,

                                                even,
                                without any buffet at all, without taint, and
                the local too close to distinguish

                                                myse-

 

 

 

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

acceptance wormhole: prelude: // travel
being & depression & identity wormhole: lack of center
green wormhole: river
pointlessness wormhole: is this it // all the time
silence wormhole: the silent night of the Batman
twilight wormhole: and // do your ears burn red?
water wormhole: om muni muni maha muniye soha

 

lack of center

Tags

2015, 4*, being, depression, dwelling, emptiness, identity, notice, space, time, writing

                recent relapse
                months long
                before it was
                even noticed

                I cannot write
                about it even
                now it has let
                off, too pervasive

                I cannot separate
                myself from it
                and suspect I
                shouldn’t try

                but dwell with
                in and wide as
                it is only what is:
                lack of center

 

 

 

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

being & depression wormhole: Sandwich
emptiness & identity wormhole: is this it // all the time
space wormhole: clear as vista
time wormhole: when the rain has settled / the dust
writing wormhole: the silent night of the Batman

 

Sandwich

Tags

2015, 3*, being, cafe, choice, depression, living, sandwich, speech

                Sandwich

                in the busy café after yet
                another long lapse by stealth –

                “I have the white bread sandwich
                  and the wholemeal bread sandwich” –

                I think I should know better
                by now which I should want

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: looking back over the tack / and jibe of my life I / notice there is / a fetch // after all … / but certainly not / where I had planned / or where I thought / I’d been
depression & living wormhole: is this it // all the time
speech wormhole: Coleton Fishacre

 

is this it // all the time

Tags

2015, 6*, Bodhichitta, breathing, corridors, depression, emptiness, fear, groundlessness, identity, living, mist, perception, pointlessness, questioning, quiet, rope, searching, self-cherishing, silence, snake, stairs, standing, stone, sun, time, trust, walls

                is this it
                coming again out of the mist

                that in my trust I find I still
                get nowhere that I want to be –

                by the walls along the corridor
                or at the top of silent stairs

                standing on the landing – it
                is not up here after all, nowhere

                else to go …
                is

                it
                this damn mist

                so easy to overlook
                so quiet to breathe

                that I mistake the stones for a figure,
                I fear the rope for the snake, and yet

                this mist will disperse
                the sun will always eventually appear

                I need not wear my collar up
                all the time

 

 

 

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

Bodhichitta wormhole: may the supreme and precious jewel bodhichitta … // … take birth where it has not yet done so … // … where it has taken birth may it not decrease … // … but may it increase infinitely
breathing & quiet wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich – Plumstead 220211
depression wormhole: to rescue something
emptiness wormhole: ‘charcoal grey-slate sky …’
groundlessness wormhole: place
identity & stone wormhole: om muni muni maha muniye soha
living wormhole: looking back over the tack / and jibe of my life I / notice there is / a fetch // after all … / but certainly not / where I had planned / or where I thought / I’d been
mist wormhole: while
pointlessness wormhole: is there anything to write?
searching wormhole: in the / Citadel / Park / a leaf / new / ly fell
silence wormhole: circuitry
stairs wormhole: currency of generations
sun wormhole: London refugee march – 120915
time wormhole: sweet chestnut
walls wormhole: snapshots about Totnes

 

to rescue something

Tags

2017, 20th century, 7*, anxiety, blue, chair, childhood, Dad, depression, dining room, divorce, Eglinton Hill, family, feeling, Genesta Road, great aunt Mary, life, purpose, talking, Thames, visit, windows, World War

                Mary came to visit one year,
                I think before Dad left, sense

                of anxiety and visitation to
                get things right; we gathered

                in the dining room, she sat
                regal in one of those blue

                wing-back chairs to one side
                of the fireplace; they talked

                of things and the way things
                were while the war built up

                and the way things are now,
                we crawled about under the

                legs of the chairs while they
                talked, through the tunnels

                to rescue something with
                several teddies in tow; we

                kept one of those blue chairs
                when we moved, I remember

                sitting in it feeling the coarse
                knap and the horsehair stuffing

                in the lonely bedroom with
                my back to the high windows

                anxious about the purpose
                to do with my life … is

 

quite naturally, but unforseeably, this was written quite considerably, and apocryphally, after: green-wine, but then everything knits together eventually

 

 

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

20th century wormhole: ‘hope for things to come’
anxiety wormhole: ‘never look up’?
blue wormhole: occa / s / i // o / n / a // l // l // y
childhood & Dad & divorce & Thames wormhole: south horizon
depression wormhole: what wounds have you got?
Eglinton Hill wormhole: alighted
family wormhole: familiasyncopation
Genesta Road wormhole: work
life wormhole: darkness
talking wormhole: embodying
windows wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams

 

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

 

beepbeep

Tags

1960s, 1967, 2016, 7*, abandonment, colour, commentary, courage, crying, Dad, depression, direction, divorce, driving, evening, eyes, feeling sorry for myself, freedom, groundlessness, Have, home, hope, identity, life, light, looking, now, others, passing, people, pointlessness, purpose, renunciation, revolution, sense of self, sex, sign, sound, texture, time, true nature, Victoria & Albert Museum, world

                                did Dad leaving
                                trigger my sense of revolution or
                my sense of depression
that there is no purpose
                                in the world
                that I would eventually have to find the courage
to face those new tremors,
                                but five years on,
                                                there, between the given textures
                already cheap and fraying

                                or did revolution trigger Dad to leave
                                                                and find some other way
                                                                                to find some truer nature?

                -O~~~

                                I didn’t want the headphones, now
                                I didn’t want the commentary
                                                all safely wrapped and bordered
                                                                so I kept my own eyes
                                                                open and saw 50 year old memorabilia
                                                                                strangely mute, now
                                                                                despite the peacock-print

                                                and little in between
                                                                save shuffling overcoats with
                                                                no sense of direction where to go
                                                                                save their right of individual                
                                                                                                                way

                                                                                                ~~~O-

                                I don’t think I want the revolution
                                anymore –
                                                away with your awkward sex! –
                I want to know the innate freedom
                                I trust I have already,
                                                save for my sense of right of way

                                                                I cried for fifty years later that evening
                                                it is hard to lose your way returning home
                                                                cut up and turning in circles
                                                                                hoping for the right lane
                                                                                                lights on and direction to go                
                                                                                                                everywhere
                                                                                                signed
                                                                and passing overhead
                                                                it is hard to arrive
                                                toe to toe
                                                                with a fifty year old overcoat
                                with no face
                                but a blinking eye
and me with no headphones

                                                                beepbeep

 

on 30th October 2016, I visited the Victoria & Albert Museum exhibition @You Say You Want a Revolution’ – Records and Rebels 1966-1970 (a birth day present, thank you, Carol); my Dad left our family on 2nd November 1967, my eighth birthday, and the divorce became final by 1969; I think it was Brigitte Bardot who said something about the ‘tremors’ which were felt in the late 60s, but few who had the ‘courage’ to face them, but I can’t seem to find the quote verbatim; we got a bit lost, at first, driving back from west London

 

 

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

abandonment & Dad & people wormhole: chartless …
depression wormhole: the both passive and transitive / non-presumptive pre-conceptualist attenuation of being
divorce wormhole: 1967
evening & identity wormhole: sleep now
eyes & life & sound wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow
groundlessness & pointlessness wormhole: [once a] dilemminal [always a dilemminal]
Have wormhole: Doctor Strange III – the needs of billions
light wormhole: adjustment
looking wormhole: Clea
others & passing wormhole: passersby
renunciation wormhole: escape from Flat Planet
texture wormhole: zazen
time wormhole: the too big moon
world wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Snow

 

the both passive and transitive / non-presumptive pre-conceptualist attenuation of being

Tags

2014, being, cognisance, conception, courage, creativity, depression, doing, emptiness, equanimity, event, flow, heart, heartbeat, hesitancy, honour, key, life, line, meaning, no big deal, nothing, openness, page, passive, pointlessness, presumption, sitting, striving, suffering, thought, time, transcendent, transitive, words, writing

 

 

 

                                the both passive and transitive
                non-presumptive pre-conceptualist attenuation of being

                                anxiety across the open page unsure,
                perched on the open line

                                ‘what if I put pen to paper and nothing happens?’
                ‘what if there is nothing but empty page and feint line?’ does not trust

                                that I am alive and cognisant to the heart
                of every beat if I had but the courage to face it,

                                all down through the endless steps of line
                whether there are words on the line

                                that I write in flow, or hesitancy, or not
                and whether they make sense or not

                                and whether my sitting was transcendent
                or not, or not done at all

                                and whether I concave at the pointlessness of activity
                or create the key to all strife and striving, or fail, or get depressed

                                I will continue eventful to evenness
                affording honour to is, and ‘no big deal’ to what is not

 

 

 

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

being & doing & life & sitting wormhole: Michael Redford: triptych
creativity & pointlessness wormhole: the writing’s on the wall
depression wormhole: Teaching career: much like Monet’s ‘Impression: soleil levant’ or, in the long run, de Chirico’s ‘The Red Tower’
emptiness wormhole: my / superpower
meaning & thought & time & writing wormhole: B le tch l ey P ark
openness wormhole: dash
words wormhole: words tumble like / boulders – poewieview #25

 

suddenly fly off again

Tags

2014, birds, conservatory, depression, flying, letting go, roof, sound

 

 

 

                           “low moods
                come like birds on the roof”
                           they step
                           and scrape about
                           pecking at
                           the moss
                and throwing it clump on the conservatory
                           roof will
                           they damag:-
                suddenly fly off again

 

 

 

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

birds wormhole: up here
conservatory wormhole: I do
depression wormhole: poessay X: soul love – poewieview #2
letting go wormhole: no point
roof wormhole: … the discipline of shamatha / the waft of vipashyana
sound wormhole: ‘the hour before dinner – / the empire of dusk’ – poewieview #6