I did not know contentment
at work, what was required,
what I thought, I never wholly
got my teaching … sorted
turmoil, and even when not
outwardly angry, I was
closed off and unapproachable,
carrying anger and resentment
like a thorny bush tied
to my back since Dad left
and people were ‘phony’ and
society was stupid and words
were insincere and all activity
was a compromise and my equals cheated
and laziness was always greedy
and hope was rude and the politicians
were tricksters and Tony Bliar
and managers slogan-shifted like there was no tomorrow
and the Principals
wouldn’t know what to do with good practice if it writhed around suggestively on their desk in front of them and made them delicious promises of future dangerous liaison
and by default I am
at least disappointed, usually frustrated
and often impotent-angry with them
when they invariably reference me
(and they always reference me)
or when I am actually wronged,
and then I’ll blow, beyond all immediate context
because I have already been smouldering,
waiting for the wrong to happen,
expecting the wrong to happen,
experiencing the wrong happening
even before it has manifested;
and I am right, it is wrong
and compromised and greedy and unprincipled
what they have done, even
when they haven’t
given expression to it, in fact
especially when they haven’t
given full expression to it
and are sloganising and spinning
that what is happening
is entirely something else;
and the powerlessness of
not being able to have a voice
no appeal to a universal
right and wrong … built me up
with no recourse and, I get broken;
look at my tired eyes – my uncomfortable life
Bodhisattvacharyavatara VI, 3: A mind which walks with, which harbours, which is in the grip of, which is poisoned with anger and hate can neither establish nor enjoy any state of calm or peace, any sense of well-being or equipoise, any contentment, any resolution, neither can it feel any joy or delight, any sense of kindliness or love, nor can it sleep or rest, when the shard of aversion and hate is stuck and buried deep in one’s heart; but … I have retired now, I, am coming through
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
abandonment wormhole: south horizon
breakdown wormhole: green and / luminant / to behold
career wormhole: it’s / not what you do or what you say / if it ain’t got that swing
compromise wormhole: raised brow
Dad wormhole: the reach turned to love
eyes wormhole: The Atlantic City Convention: 1. THE WAITRESS by William Carlos Williams
life & society wormhole: the old man;
management wormhole: how to teach
people wormhole: Puerto del Carmen
teaching wormhole: and … // … sound
thought wormhole: so, how long is, a piece of string?
waiting wormhole: all // are // none
words wormhole: SPRING AND ALL VI by William Carlos Williams
work wormhole: Vue de Pontoise, 1873