Tag: responsibilities

Orwellian

When doublespeak becomes communication

When what was writ’s unwritten, lies are truth

When options few are really just the same ones

And those who should do better are uncouth

When people are the pawns and power the endgame

And news reported dwells on virtual facts

When 101’s a room we all must live in

And noble’s executed in dark arts

When Napoleon takes the credit for our efforts

And homage is considered his just due

When one would rise among us to refute this

The porcine clique, combined, know what to do

Rewrite our history and offer soundbites

Report what must be said in ways it must

The trough must not be shattered nor the dark lit

The face should honour boot and in it trust

When zombies tear at brains and then reshape them

When two and two is five in bankers’ math

When economic power’s the only saviour

And war is profit, gamblers scoff and laugh

When George’s past is now our glowing present

And Big Brother’s just a guy like all the rest

We’re living in a novel ’till we notice

That few among them work for what is best

When thirteen’s on the clock and we accept that

And still applaud the hand that strikes false hour

When destruction of the word is deemed a good thing

Gravity and science exist no more

When happiness is valued more than freedom

But only ours, not theirs, we’ve lost the plot

When isolation’s cult breeds more of ignorance

We have a world that’s free from reason; doublethought

When history reflects, some time, in the future

On what was what, and what was not, let’s pray

Our children can forgive us our trespasses

For the legacy of Orwell on that day

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Traffic Jam

I keep missing comments and fond familiar voices,

Apologies to all concerned,

In time-restricted choices.

Another week of trafficking in all their dirty tricks

Should see me back to normal,

Far removed from politics,

At least on board to reading other stuff but guff,

Honest to god, now passed my chin,

Nearly had enough.

Some light romance, some music, a video or two,

Some photographs, a few more jokes,

Anything would do.

One more week, well, less in fact, then, bugger, I’ve reports,

Twenty-six, my darling kids,

Progress, tricks, endeavour for six-year old cohort.

Pretty soon, as time will tell, I’ll get to browse again,

Until then, apologies

For bypassing bloggy friends.

Ought To, Need To

Ought to be more than mere feelings

Ought to feel more than an urge

Ought to serve something more than the self

Ought to resist, need to purge

Penchant for serving mere mammon

Proclivity for take and take more

Ought to give back, need to give in return

Need to even the score.

Ought to vest interest in many

Need to voice justice the same

Need to do something, we have to,

To be worthy of human

In name.

Ought to look to the future,

Need to see to the kids,

Ought to remember our parents,

Need to do what they did.

Need to consider the options,

Ought to speak out, ought to vote,

Need to acknowledge there’s much more at stake

Ought to know that by rote.

Need to relive the lies told

Ought to remember result,

Need to do more than shrug shoulders

Need to read up and consult.

Need to recollect rights here

Ought to reckon responsible too

Need to quit saying nothing changes

Ought to matter to you.

Ought to get on with the housework

Need to remember each task

Ought to and need to, quite different,

Must remember whenever I’m asked.

Need to go now and cook some,

Need to is my middle name,

Ought to is in there as well though,

I guess we’re something the same.

Human with plenty of options,

The ought to’s, the needs and the must,

In it together, we all are,

Need to go now and do what I trust.

Ought to be cleaning, I told you,

Ought to but I have a choice,

Need to’s a whole other matter,

Need to needs to be voiced.

Chartered

Lift up your voice, let the clear air carry

From the Sounds and the Firths out to the seas,

Enter in the inlets, in the estuaries,

Vocal now, no supplicants’ pleas.

These are not the voices of the woaded tribes,

But the born to be, destined to be free,

Lift up your voice, let the message ride,

Polemicists, apologists we.

These are the voices of the meek grown bold,

Emboldened by the truth when it is known,

History rewritten, in the present told,

Seeds of justice long ago sown.

Vanquish defensive, the cringe once bred

By the words of the woeful, books and news,

Lift up your voices, elevate your head,

Sing songs of freedom born of battled blues.

Carry the banner of the free, unveiled,

Perish the thought of lowly born,

People of the future, never more assailed,

Abandon ashes, sackcloth ever worn.

Shrug off the fear, designating state,

Antonym to action, thus enslaved,

Write now with purpose on a wipe-cleaned slate,

Capitalised, italicised, writ brave.

Be the free citizens where’er you live,

Terminology none may revoke,

Pass on egality as the gift you give,

Charter of mankind now quote, invoke.

By And By

I dreamt of you last night and again this morning

In slumber’s sleep and early waking hours,

I lay with you in darkness through till dawning

And pondered love as deeply held as ours.

 

My dreams are full of wonder at all loving

How gifted we may be when it enfolds.

I treasure them, eyes closed, then on opening

And expose heart to all my love beholds.

 

There’s magic in my dreams of love unfolding

And passion in my soul for who you are.

I whisper into ether, song rejoicing

You lead me, fill me, guide me, northern star.

 

Should dreams enhance all hours alert and watching,

Perfecting every moment to arouse

Splendour in the passion we are holding,

Eyes open always, never more to drowse.

 

Should life supplant all hopes of dreamers’ weaving

And build a barrier to all our plans,

I’ll close my eyes forever, hold fast to my perceiving

Of who we are in dreams, simply woman and one man.

 

In life we walk a path so often treading,

In dreams’ inertia fantasies unfold,

Collide in dreams, inhibitions shedding.

Come my love, in dreams, let’s both be bold.

 

Meet me in my dreams till eternity is ending,

In heavens purest realm I’ll find you, by and by,

I’ll know your spirit’s call so sweetly yearning

For miracles of love within mind’s eye.

Four Fifths Is Fine, I Feel.

Unreasonable behaviour this part of I am,

Is silly, impetuous, unworldly, but damn!

It’s honest and true and a little bit crazy,

Flighty sometimes but never quite flaky

Enough to be daft to the point of plain stupid.

Like being a bit tipsy or speared by wee Cupid.

A tiny bit mental, a tad giggly too,

But it balances the serious, so that’s what I do.

Those folk who know me would testify

That I’m perfectly balanced, four out of five.

The one fifth I’m not is when fantasy’s in flow

Or I’m drunk as a skunk, a pity I know,

But delightfully daring to release the repressive.

Preferable to being much too depressive.

No mania here for I’ve read all about it,

I’m just me, can’t you see, a bit foolish, don’t doubt it.

But only at weekends when I’m in full flight

And mind’s in the clouds. I know, yes, it’s right

That others may think I might be an ass,

But, bugger, I’m honest to the point that I laugh

When things that I say bite me on the bum,

I deal with it, accept it, I blush then succumb

To reasonable behaviour once more in mid-week.

Weekends are for weird, I find as I speak.

No wonder my family think maybe there’s several,

Wife, mother, teacher and a bit of a devil.

Like a youth in my mind two days in the week,

So shoot me, but believe the words that I speak.

A little bizarre on the pan that is light

Lifts up my spirits then so I might

Return to the normal, the perfectly plain

The worker, wife, mother, balanced again.

 

Video reading Four Fifths Is Fine, I Feel

Of Writing

Some people are annoyed at me

And I suppose it is no wonder.

In spending hours in writing,

I’m leaving them to blunder

Through the chores

And all the dishes.

I dole out hugs,

Intermittent

Kisses.

But really,

It’s an awful ask,

To cease, desist, refrain

From task

Of writing what I have to pour

Upon these pages and

Many more.

The dam has burst,

It’s here to stay.

They muddle on

In disarray,

Mum has left

The kitchen sink,

I’ve disappeared

To write and think.

The truth is out,

They can’t decide

If mum’s depressed

And needs to hide.

When all I try

To say to them, is

I’m pouring ink from

Out of pen

Upon the whiteness

Of the page,

Please understand,

Don’t fuss

Or rage

At absence in

The living room,

I’m stoking fire

Of words

To bloom,

Like flowers

On the window sill,

I’ve not forgotten

Boy or girl.

But I am out

And this is it,

Live and learn,

Don’t give a shit

If ironing’s done

Or who hit whom.

Sort it out.

I’m in my room

Feeling freer

Than before,

Open mind,

Closed bedroom door.

What to say to

Those who matter,

I’m here beside you

But you must cater

To my needs,

When after all

I work all day,

Cease not at all.

In evening’s light

I spend my time

Fixing words

That want to rhyme,

Shaping thoughts

That form in mind,

Reliving dream

I have to find

To end the pain

Of silent pen.

I’m still here,

You’ll live again.

 

Video reading Of Writing

Whose Job Is It?

 

http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2013/08/28/how-the-internet-is-hurting-our-kids/  set me thinking and my response to her would be too long as a comment.

Is the Internet hurting our kids with expectations of instant gratification? Do parents enable irresponsibility in their children?

(Linda inserted a disclaimer, as do I. There probably is no exact right way but there still has to be an attempt at providing one.)

 

Perhaps there is an element of this but I can only speak from my own experiences with my own children.

They all have had access to the internet since I was able to make it available to them around 15 or so years ago. That was about the time we had our first internet capable computer, modem built in. Prior to that, the hand-me-down computer that we had was used by me and all of them for word processing, spreadsheets for work and some games that were onboard.

It’s difficult to imagine that such a relatively short time has passed and we have come so far in what computers are capable of and the multitude of social networking sites available for use. Not to mention the range of games and the graphics capability.

Each of my seven children, from the eldest at 24 to the youngest at 6, is well-versed in how to use the many programmes available. Most of that is self-taught. They have no fear of challenging capabilities, whereas my initial attempts were fear-filled at what I might erase or damage in my feeble attempts to become comfortable with technology.

They use the computer for school, work and social activities.

But they also read, play guitar, listen to music, watch movies, go outside to play, visit friends, play chess, have friends round, go to the cinema and a host of other activities that are not computer or internet dependent.

As far as depending on parents for financial support this is a matter that I have given a lot of thought to and have implemented various strategies with different degrees of success.

The general rule in our house is that the children are given pocket money up to the age when they can get a part-time/Saturday job. The pocket money has been a fixed amount or a flexible one depending on our circumstances. It is not dependent on doing chores but they are all expected to do some as well as keep their own rooms in order.

As soon as the children are of age to find part-time work (which is not always easily come by) they are then expected to buy their own clothes, provide for their own entertainment and any other extras. We still purchase their school clothes and necessities. They are expected to contribute £10 (15US$ 16C$)  a week from a part-time job to get them used to the idea that contributing to their upkeep is essential.

After they have finished full-time education and gone on to work in full-time employment, they contribute around £200 ( 310 US$ 326C$) per month for their upkeep. This is much less than they would be paying if they were in a flat or managing for themselves.

My eldest got her first part-time job at 16 and worked there until she started university. She then did auxiliary nursing in addition to her studies as a nurse and this helped fund her way through university. She still contributed at home. She is now in a flat with her fiancé and the two of them work and manage their home and know how to finance themselves, pay bills, save for holidays and so on.

My eldest son also had his first part-time job at 16 working for McDonalds. He moved from there to a warehouse job and kept that on while at university. He packed in uni as he hated the course and got a job working in a bank where he has done very well. After two years of working there he has decided to return to college and started just last week. He has kept on the bank work part-time and he still contributes.

My daughter at 20 started working in Cineworld about 3 or 4 years ago, part-time. When she finished school she did not want to go immediately to university so she went full-time for two years at Cineworld. She started the same college as her brother last week. She is in a flat with friends and pays her way there as she did when she was at home.

My 18 year old son has had one part-time job that only lasted a few months. He hated it and gave it up. I was not amused. He did a year’s course at college but now wants to get a job. He has an open evening visit at my other son’s work tonight.

My 15 year old has already asked me to help draft her skills CV in readiness for when she turns 16 to get part-time work while still at school for the next two years.

Until then, she and my younger children will be provided with everything they need. NEED not want. If they want something that I see as a possible nine days wonder or something very expensive then they are told to save up for the cost of half of it. If they manage to do this (from pocket money, birthday money, etc.) then I know they are serious about the desire and I pay for the other half of the item. In this way, over the years, various children have ‘received’ a computer/laptop/playstation/camera etc. It has happened, fairly often, that they stopped saving for the item and said they weren’t bothered any more. So, they don’t get it. If they had really wanted it, they would have saved for it.

With seven children, we simply could not afford to give into every wish and desire. We provide for everything they need but they have been and will continue to be taught to be responsible about all sorts of life lessons in order that they can, one day, join the world of independence with confidence and a sense of responsibility, as well as that all-important work ethic.

A long post, I know. What’s new from me, eh?

But, it is the responsibility of parents to ensure that their children are ready for the grown-up world. Not the schools’ responsibility. Not ‘society’s’ responsibility. Ours. And, if children are not expected to be responsible they’re not going to be. Would you?

It would be lovely, for a while, to be handed everything on a plate. But, those things that I have achieved greatest satisfaction from are those things I’ve felt I’ve deserved because I’ve worked for them. It is how I was taught. It is how I teach my own.