Brave Jay

The young lad Jay decides to go for good.
How painful, hopeless, has his world become?
A selfish, angry way to scream for some,
For others now must live the pain he couldn’t.

What could we have done to change his mind
How could we have missed the signs of danger?
Could we have stopped the dreadful plan of anger?
What else could we have done to make life shine?

Nothing now, for he would end it this time.
So Jay the lad became that day a man,
He made his dark choice and his dreadful plan.
His pain is finished now, no life to mime.

Still for you he loved and left, yet he gave
Remembrance that your boy, your man, was brave.

Assignment 2

Ok. I got there. Assignment 2  is in and the tutor feedback is in. I would say 6/10. Although I have asked not to be assessed: I just want to do it for fun and the challenge.

Her feedback is as ever very precise and direct. I like it.

Now we have to get on with dialogue. No option for poetry here. Looking forward to it. You can see Assignments 1and 2 in the menu.

Loving it.

Why?

Why did I love him? He’s broken my heart three times.

When will I ever learn, idiot, fool?

He is vulnerable but hides it by faces and mimes

Good looking, big-hearted underneath the cool.

Wants not to be tangled in the past of ice

More than a year he strings along a man,

Me, for whom he meant the world at a price.

Hiding his real love: another sham.

It was pretty one-way I paid for him to live,

For nothing much back from him but talk and bluff,

‘Love you’ he said, but there was none left to give.

A year later he finally braves it enough

To answer my question, (never to fess up straight).

Suggests we could be a three, let’s try and see

So we meet, us three, for a night to stay out late

Which becomes a nightmare due to drink and me.

I am now the devilish bastard whore

To be erased for taking advantage  of his pet.

Surprised? He did it to me before and more

Much worse, but the high past we are to forget.

I have to forget my stupid fool’s dream.

I have to forget the laughs and times we had.

I love him still, despite what’s happened I mean.

I delete all the pc images of him the lad,

I love him still, but soulmates, best friends won’t do.

In tears I watch the pixels drain from the screen.

He’s chosen who, we now know both, me and his new.

My love too will drain and so will the pain I’m in.

The man who never gave up

beethovenThis inspirational German man started to become famous in his early 20s in Vienna. My first impression of him is intensity and anger. His face looks out, with sharply-arched eyebrows, but not in a frown, rather in concentrated passion and creativity. For some people this state brings great peace.

For him it brings extraordinary noise. It is as if he is about to explode and shout from his compressed thin lips. His eyes are wide open, looking into the distance, hardly noticing anything happening around him: his untidy lodgings, his scattered notebooks with barely legible marks on them.

He is composing, or more likely correcting a proof, pen in hand. The book is not resting on the table, but held up to the pen as if to give closer connection with him.

He is in fact well-connected in society, which recognises his unique talents, but he has never been able to capture the love of a woman despite several serious efforts. There is perhaps loneliness in his eyes and face because of this.

He is capable of charm, but certainly is not someone you would invite to a child’s birthday party. His business depends on the chattering classes of Vienna buying copies of his printed music as they would buy books. He was the first composer to use this business model successfully. He cultivated his clientele by offering piano lessons which must have demanded huge patience from a super-talented player as he.

His long straggly hair covers his ears. What use would there be to expose them? By the time of this portrait he was completely deaf. Buzzing started when he was about 26. He had lost 60% of his hearing by the age of 31. By 46 his was stone deaf. This is why he inspires me. He never gave up. He eventually had to stop conducting and piano playing. But he wrote and wrote. He continued to compose and innovate. It was all in his head. He never heard a note of it for real. His 9th Symphony is about peace between all men after the long Napoleonic wars. Peace.

And now I ask you please to take 27 minutes of your time and listen to his Piano Sonata 32. His last sonata. It is also about chaos turning to peace. In particular please listen to the second movement, which starts slowly, and which, for me, is his thanks for the world-beating talent he was given, even though his hearing was taken away. He never ever heard this on a piano but only in his head. I give thanks that I can hear it in both.

https://youtu.be/1ljq4MwzAbo : Claudio Arrau – Beethoven Sonata No. 32

The bars of a song

 

A romantic man kept a very beautiful song bird. When the bird sang sweetly to him everyday his heart lifted. The vibrant colours of the bird’s plumage, which he took good care to preen often, delighted the man and many others.

The man pondered what he could give to the bird to make him happy to stay. He made a beautiful cage with a special perch, spray-painted in the birds favourite colour of black. He found the bird the best food, cared for him if he was ill, and tried his hardest to ensure his every need was met.

One day, an injured young bird flew onto the wind sill. The two birds talked and soon became friends, in fact more than friends. The song bird longed to be as free as his bird friend was. He longed to see the world and experience all parts of bird life. His bird friend was very ill and the song bird hoped he might fix him in this way. He didn’t mention any of this to the man.

So he became sad. His feathers, the envy of all the man’s friends who saw them, became flat. Before they had been iridescent. With the man, the song bird’s singing became rarer and the songs more sad. He changed from major to minor. Some of the songs became less true to life. The man noticed this, and wondered desperately how he could make his precious bird happy again. So he asked him the question.

The song bird thought carefully before answering – worried that he might upset the man, or might lose his place in the man’s life, or even worse in his heart. But the longer he waited to explain the truth, the more upset the man would become when he eventually knew the story.

Finally he plucked up courage and asked if he could fly out of the window, find his bird friend and fly away so that they could see the world together, see other bird life, have fun.

The man was upset that this was the first he had heard of the story, but said of course he could. He opened the cage door, threw open the window and stood aside to make way for the bird with no hesitation.

The song bird flew to the nearest tree, then sang out to tell his bird friend that he was free. His bird friend joined him quickly, and they took off. It was breezy and rough weather outside, but they stuck together and looked after each other. The song bird kept his bird friend under his wing.

They did everything and anything they wanted to. They were free. They made many happy memories. The song bird had happy memories too of the man.

The wind blew them to some good places, but also to some dangerous caves with highs and lows, which seemed fun at the time but were not in the real world. The highs and lows eventually caused more pain to the birds and their loved ones than the momentary fun was worth. The real world became more difficult to navigate. They started to avoid the bad places as much as they could, but it didn’t always work out like that.

The song bird missed the man and the merry times they had had together. He missed the man’s intelligence and wisdom, which he had always loved. They too had been through highs and lows together and the man had been trying to show his song bird how to live and prosper in the real world, by setting a worthy example. The song bird wanted to go home.

Again the song bird became worried, this time that his bird friend would be upset if he spoke the truth. But he decided that he really wanted to see the man again.

He told the bird friend, who had heard a little about the man but had never met him properly. He did not realise the love the song bird had for the man, nor that the man loved the song bird so much.

So the song bird turned into the wind and headed back, his young bird friend was very sad.

The song bird was now anxious. Would there be a new bird in the man’s life? Would the window be closed to him? Would his cage be locked?

Despite all these anxieties the song bird knew now what he wanted. He knew what he had to do. But he summoned up his considerable courage, fought the panic, and took the risk.

He finally reached the man’s place and landed on the window sill. Yes, the window was open as before. Indeed, the man had never shut it. Inside, the cage was still there clean, tidy, with fresh food and water for the thirsty song bird. It was safety.

There seemed no other bird in sight or sound. It was as if the song bird had never left. He smelled familiar odours of the house, the man’s aftershave, the aromas of his cooking. He heard the snoring upstairs.

He sat on his comfortable perch, put his head under his wing and he slept for the first time properly that night since he had left on his trip.

In the morning the man came into the kitchen as usual for his solitary breakfast. He played some of the song bird’s favourite songs on YouTube. For this was the song bird’s way of communicating his emotions which otherwise he found difficult to do. Listening to the songs was the way the man kept the song bird alive in his mind.

The man thought that his ears were playing tricks with him as they did sometimes because of the bad times of the past. But he was sure he could hear another familiar and sweet voice singing along to the YouTube songs.

His heart missed a beat. He dared not believe or hope what this might mean. He turned his eyes, red, brimming with tears, scarcely able to see, to the cage.

There sat his beloved song bird on the perch, somewhat bedraggled from the caves, but singing along to the songs.

Bird friends flew around outside calling. The cage door was open. The window was open. Yet the song bird sat there on the perch. Free.

From then onwards, the song bird sang to the man and made him happier than he had been in his whole life.

Now the song bird sang through the bars of his songs and never again through the bars of his cage.

Thai sonnet

เราจะเปรียบท่านทั้งหลายในวันฤดูร้อน?
พระองค์ทรงเป็นที่น่ารักมากขึ้นและมากขึ้นพอสมควร:
ลมขรุขระทำเขย่าตาที่รักของเดือนพฤษภาคม
และสัญญาเช่าในช่วงฤดูร้อนของทุกทรงสั้นเกินไปวันที่:
บางครั้งร้อนเกินไปสายตาของสวรรค์ส่อง,
และมักจะผิวทองของเขาเป็นสีทึบ
และทุกอย่างเป็นธรรมจากการลดลงบางครั้งยุติธรรม
โดยบังเอิญหรือลักษณะของการเปลี่ยนแปลงตัดหรือเล็มหลักสูตร:
แต่ในช่วงฤดูร้อนนิรันดร์ของเจ้าจะไม่จางหายไป
หรือสูญเสียความครอบครองของยุติธรรมว่าท่านเป็นเจ้าของ
ไม่ต้องโม้ตายเจ้าเดินในที่ร่มของเขา
เมื่ออยู่ในสายนิรันดร์เวลาเจ้าเติบโตขึ้น
ตราบใดที่ผู้ชายสามารถหายใจหรือตาสามารถมองเห็น
ชีวิตตราบนี้และนี้จะช่วยให้ชีวิตแก่เจ้า

Fun in Thailand

images
Hello all,

I am having a great time in Thailand.  The weather is consistently above 30 degrees so on the beach nearly everyday. The sea is like a bath.
There is a constant whirl of social life of course because I know so many people here from previous years including the massage ladies on the beach who let me lie on their massage beds in the shade for no cost. They cooked an amazing bbq the other night. I thought my stomach would explode afterwards lol.
My friend Max took me to the Buddhist Temple yesterday. His mother passed away too recently.
You buy special bouquets of flowers, soaps, rice and other essentials which are offered to the monk on duty. He says prayers for her,  and sprinkles water on you. You light candles and from them 3 incense sticks. Then you sit quietly and meditate for a bit. Then leave quietly when ready.
He said we should be happy because she is with the stars now and has no worries, stress, or problems as we do on earth when we are alive.
Afterwards I felt a weight lifted from me. Quite a special experience.
Needless to say the rest of the day was spent merry-making!
I am doing a few free English lessons near the guest house in the early evening before the boys and girls go to work in the bars and restaurants. Better English gets them better pay and makes it easier for them to get good jobs.
First lesson: RUPERT, not LOOPA. Perhaps on reflection the latter is more appropriate.
We talked about the meanings of names in English. One of the boys is called Dong. I said it meant the sound of a bell. Had to think on my feet there!