Airbags Deployed

Way ahead

was dark

drear

dismal.

Couldn’t see

for miles

for fog

for yards.

Rearview

mirror

wipers

not a thing

was working.

Steering

blindly really

auto on.

Road bumps

turbulence

or what

you will

were all

too willing

too available

too there

just there

right on it

Thud!

Like that.

Visibility

was down

a downer

anywhere

was nowhere

seen.

 

Where

clarity

the RAC

some squad

that rescues

travellers

on call saint

sojourners’

pre-demoted

christopher

for all

de

mot

iv

at

ed

still the

motor

running

though

seatbelts

fastened

odds were

looking

dire.

Pitstops

on the way

no chance

or chances

risky.

Pelted

window

panes

pained

by tears

blurring

visual

hope

to steer

car

plane.

But miles

of belted

journeys

undertaken

experience

desire

to land

to reach

other side

of void

airbags

deployed.

Test

passed

again.

How To Undress A Woman

Now Brenda seems to think I’m saucy. Even when I’m not trying to be. Bloody hell, that was just a wee innocent post.  But it did get me thinking about saucy. 😉

 

How to undress a woman,

Well, I know there’s more than a few,

But for the purposes of clarification,

I’ll list my favourite two.

 

Begin first of all with your mind and your eyes,

Envision the beauty you’ll see,

Let shimmer of desire spark radiant fire,

She’ll recognise and want to be free.

 

Now, slowly, uncover each portion of flesh,

Kissing each part as revealed,

Tenderly nibbling on morsels delightful,

Till nothing more is concealed.

 

Or, hold hands to her head and kiss deeply,

Eyes firing with darkest emotion,

Then, quickly, with no hesitation,

Let four hands resist all slow motion.

 

One is smouldering passion,

With thoughts swimming round in your head,

The other is urgent, needs no commanding,

Doesn’t need even a bed!

 

How to undress a woman,

Many the answers there be.

But either of the two depicted

Work wonders for little ole me!

Progress

Progress moves forward, time cannot pause,

Past is unchanging, we know this because

Nothing, here present, allows us to alter

Yesterday’s stories, yet we stutter and falter,

 

To grasp our todays and heal where we may

Holding to history, as if we could say,

‘That never happened. That book is a lie.’

If we live in the past, we suffer and die

 

To future’s new chances, a life with less pain,

But still we persist in living again

In past recollections where sorrow is spent,

Move on with new hope, life is but lent

 

For such a short while, each day just a gift,

In peril we waste them, let soul and heart lift.

A new understanding, resume with your living

Reconciling with self, be much more forgiving.

 

As, many the times, we look and we see,

The burden of guilt is on you and on me.

Progress rewards us with many advances

But we must be watchful. Seize all our chances

 

To live our new days each present, here now,

For, come our tomorrows, they may not allow

The same opportunities to develop and grow

In wisdom of life. No secret. We know

 

That life and its loving, all it may offer

Is rarely mistaken, it seeks to proffer

Many a lesson, if we can but learn, that

Progress, development, come in their turn

 

To challenge our theories, our thoughts and our ways,

Embrace what is past but go on with our days.

Change is a happenstance, a gurgling stream,

Never stagnating, let not your dreams

 

Be caught in the yesterdays, where nothing can vary.

Progress is wonderful, though sometimes quite scary!

Smile at the present, resist the long face,

Being happy in now, knows no disgrace

 

If thought and a heart, cleared of distress,

Love and forgive. We can do no less

If some of the morals we needed to know,

Experience helped us and taught us to grow.

 

Goodbye to the past, although it has formed us,

Hello to today, yesterday informed us

In mercy and kindness where all who may seek,

Receive and give freely, all days of each week.

Kinaesthetic Experience

I cannot touch your body,

So tactile sense is out,

But, visual, auditory,

Let’s me reach and feel about. 

 

Kinaesthetic reaching

And learning, not a chore,

A means of understanding,

The modern and folklore.

 

A touch, a taste, some sight and sound

And a smell would work just fine.

I’ve found all this in savouring

A glass of reddest wine.

 

Tasting of exquisite fruit,

Aromatic gurgled flow,

The deepest, darkest damson ripe,

Lifted delicately, just so.

 

It works for almost everything,

Try it and you’ll see.

Learning, truly learning,

Begins by sensing all we be.

The Business of Dying

As I explore the fabulous blogs that are out there, in this site, I am amazed at the wide variation of themes. I also note recurring themes and it seems that the human experience is meant to be shared. In doing so, laughter, enlightenment, education, wit, beauty and so much more are made available to all readers. I would like to think that we all have something to share. And so far, my experience of this site, reassures me that this is the case. I have found myself laughing fit to burst (Harsh Reality, Opinionated Man), moved (Geo Sans), entranced (PICZLoad), enlightened and amused (Marian The Seminarian) and well, pretty much every range of emotion as I gaily follow so many impressive people. I’ve only been on here a few days and I’ve hardly been off it. I can’t stop reading. (Not doing much for the writing).

I said in my Blog that I would date any entries that are ‘old’ writing. This is one of them. It’s still close to my heart. And I know, from speaking to others since my Mum’s death, that the experience is universal and also unique.

(21/10/09)

The business of dying is more difficult than the business of living. No matter how busy or arduous your life nothing surely can compare to how hard it is to go through the process of diminishing unto death. Getting up early, organising family, food, chores et al can all be done with some effort. Being unable, gradually or suddenly, to do anything for oneself is frustrating, humiliating, overwhelming.

How can one cope with the loss of all independence? How does one resign oneself to decreasing ability, mobility, choice?

My mum is dying and it’s not easy for anyone. We watch and tend and listen, trying to comfort, minister, alleviate.

Mum, though, does not understand why. Why does she have leukaemia? Why does she feel so tired? Why does she have to go for transfusions? Why does she have a catheter? Why do these nurses and carers have to be coming in? Rationally and in conversation she understands. These things can be explained – she is not without her mental faculties. But inside her heart she does not understand why. It’s as if death should come and take her by surprise. Instead, it is creeping through her body, insinuating itself slowly and mercilessly. She cannot let go to life – she is, after all, still alive. The desire to remain so is strong and inbuilt. But she is tired. Tired to the bone and tired of feeling the way she does. If death has to come she wants to go to sleep and be taken by it. Staying awake and being aware of its insidious progress is tortuous for her. She knows it is happening deep down – deep down in the marrow of her bones and deep down within herself.

Acknowledging the onset of death – the end of life – the departure from loved ones – I don’t know how anyone deals with this. Nothing in real experience has taught me how it would be. It is all foreign ground – to me and to my family.

The movie experience of dying is written from someone else’s experience or imagination and it is no help to the individuals involved in our own drama.

Mum is suffering, surely. But it is not physical pain for which there is pain relief. Her torment is an earth – bound purgatory, neither living nor dead.