Robert C. Day's Blog, page 30

Tears of Joy

Short thing.

Lots of friends around me are talking about feeling happy and sad at the same time. It made me want to try to experience this, so I turned it into a meditation.

So, I sat down to meditate (or stand or lay if it suits you better) – then I did this: first I felt happy, then I felt sad, then I felt happy again, then I felt sad again, then I felt happier once more, then I … well, you get the idea I guess – repeat until you reach nirvana (other states of transcendentalness are availa...

Unintended Consequence

At night, when all else slumbers,
The Kakapo, he callsfrom the
Core of his groundly hollow
Of low, lonely cleanliness.
Your bodyalone hewants.
Being, concerns him not.
You are buta receptacle.
Areyou ready for him?
Deeply booming now,
Peaceful,he is never,
Immenselystrong,
Loving, almost. But,
Infinitely sad this tale.
Wise the Kakapois not!
And then come the fangs
Profoundly glad for stupid birds
Contented, withthis flightless meal.

Do Not Read

The world is just a great big onion but that’s not what makes me crywhen Ithink that if I eatchocolate, then there are consequences. I mean, eating choccy should be a pleasure rather than a cause of tears, not to mention a body that wobbles whenone jumps up and down in front of the mirror when clad in nothing more than a beret.

But enough of this maudlin stuff. What I really want to say is that I love you. Yes, you. You the person reading these words. How do I know that I love you? Well, you...

Trap and Release

It was never enough. Even when he pulled out all the stops. Even when he strained his mind to breaking point. It was never enough. The beatings were not so bad as the glares; and theangry staresnot a patch on his private tears. His inner fears.

In his room, where he escaped from darkness into night, he brooded through dreams of silence that sat upon his naked brow as a vulture sits, poised, waiting for movement tocease. And always that smell of burning. He woke to find the ceiling had crept...

Health

I’m going to live to be 120 and I’m going to be fit and healthy all the way to the end. I’m actually quite looking forward to dying, but not this week, not next weekor even the week after that. Dying is going to be the last great adventure of this life.No oneknows what will happen to me afterwards – ain’t that grand!

I’ve promised myself LSD on my 100th birthday. By then I’ll have had the same experiences unaided by substances and so I’ll be ready for the trip. It’ll just be a question of ch...

More Cake

“Hello, Chuck – sorry I’m late – what’s up!”

“Nothing. Just sat on the platform, waiting for God. You know.”

“Waiting for who? I thought you were waiting for me?”

“Yes, my dear.”

“Look, I’m only an hour late, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing. I just – ”

“If it’s nothing, what you got the mug on for, then? Did you think I’d been got by terrorists?”

“Well, there’s always the possibility.”

“Nah, not me, mate – I’m fireproof, I am! What you got there?”

“Well, this is the Fortnum’s Celebratory Choc...

Back Passage

My mate Gav – he’s bonkers he is. Proper bonkers. We got to talking about when we was kids the other day and I says something about going down the gennel and he says What? What’s a gennel? Now I’m from Sheffield and that’s what we called a … like a cut-through, between the houses, you know? Like, if you wanted to get down to the shops you’d guh dahn’t gennel. So I says to him, Its a short cut. And he says Oh, you mean a ginnel! Well, I know he’s from Leeds and all that but I wasn’t having non...

Censorship

(the following,written in November 2015, is a direct prequel to Freedom– I just remembered about it today)

I remember that on the day Fatema was born, what hair she had was curled so sweetly that it was as if angels had been twirling it around their fingers. I remember her beatific smiles as she grew from baby to child. I remember her gurgles and burbles turning into words and sentences that spoke of her growing love of language. I remember her trusting nature and the care she took to please...

Dirty Little Secrets

I woke up this morning thinking:

I need to live my excitements as I’m living them them, and then let them go into the void.

(Actually it was more like: I need to let go of all my dirty little little secrets; but why would I go and tell you that!)

Cake

“Oh, Darling, I’m so sorry I’m late, it must have been awful for you!”

“Well, I did rather fear the worst!”

“What, that the Bosche had bombed the train and -”

“Don’t even say it!”

“Oh, Darling, you’re so sweet – let me kiss you right there on that kind little mouth of yours!”

“Crumbs -”

“Mwagh!”

“I fear you have a face full of crumbs, my dear. Here, let me …”

“Crumbs? Oh, from the cake! Is the rest of it for me?”

“Well, I was -”

“Saving it for me? Thank you, Darling! Hmm, yam yam yam yam yam...