Revealing I-poems

Bit of a lie in and only just had ‘breakfast’, thought for a while about what to have but eventually had a couple of fortisips. Isn’t it interesting that I chose the fortisips? I know that eating would be painful but the opportunity is almost there and I didn’t take it, how quickly and easily we slip into patterns of behaviour. But I had some honey drink and swallowed the last of the fortisip, I will continue with the gradual approach.

Awoke in some alarm in the small hours as I couldn’t breathe, both throat and nose blocked with mucus. This is a great fear of mine, probably closely linked to my claustrophobia. I sat up and, even though the body wants to take in air, I forced mucus out of my mouth which was painful  in my paniced state. Unfortunately woke Kate, after reassuring her I went downstairs to clear the tubes with menthol crystals. You put a couple (only small ones) of crystals on boiling water then inhale with great care. It is very powerful and clears tubes and sinuses like a flamethrower on butter.

I am definitely beginning to feel better and thought I’d do a couple of I-poems to see if this is reflected in my blogs, inspired partly by Kate saying yesterday that the tone of my blog had changed. The first is taken from 24th December blog when I was struggling:

I know

I’ve been feeling increasingly crap

I can’t eat, drink, talk, very tired

I promise

I get self-pitying

The second yesterday’s (2nd January):

I have been eating

I can taste

I went to start

I had a close look

I speak too much

I know I’ve pissed many people off

I ask them

I’ve not come close

Very different tones to each and certainly reflect changes and improvements. Further analysis would probably be quite revealing|

Bruce Kent, remember him? CND in the 80’s. Well he was King for the day in today’s Grauniad and one of his proposals is that no-one is paid more than 5 times the wages of a supermarket shelf stacker, he suggests that a maximum wage is long overdue. I am in complete agreement, Despite what certain folk,especially the BBs and kleptos, claim we live in an interdependent world and we have these things called societies and we should do our utmost to make these societies the best they can be. Even some of the rich fuckers like Warren Buffett realise that inequality is bad. But we have to reward talent they squeal. Do we? Why? If footballers suddenly had their pay cut and capped and it was applied to all what would they do? Where would they go? We should just keep asking the kleptos why they are paid so much, as the channel 4 interviewer did with the RBS director, and shame and ridicule them: Beardy Branson is a wanker, see it’s easy.

Writing of ridicule I can’t let this one pass even though the poor man has had a bit of a rough time. Bono had a crash on his bike in Central Park badly injuring his arm, he says he may never be able to play guitar again. He has written what seems to be an extensive round robin missive reflecting on his year, he began by wanting to learn from his mistakes: “the first of which is that I am not an armoured vehicle”. Very true Nobo, you are a twat. Enough Duncan, the poor man’s too easy a target.

So Bliar has chipped in saying Millibean won’t win the election. I know they’re red tinted glasses I look through but what if John Smith hadn’t died, I know he could never have fulfilled our manifold socialist dreams but at least we would have been spared Blair. Like with Clinton the so called third way is bollocks, if you wanted that just vote for the dodgy liberals. Just wish Millibean would stand up…….but no, the labour party in current guise are part of the problem.

Manifesto 53:

  • a strict quota of shouting/being loud and no shouting on weekend mornings, please consider your neighbours.

Keep .on keeping on, love Duncan


One thought on “Revealing I-poems

  1. Like the I-dea of the I pomes Duncan, all sorts intriguing analyses possible by taking selected initial phrases of one’s textual reflections… and two responses to your earlier notes about writing:

    Writer’s block: it’s winter, and a particularity harsh spell just passed for you – the words were sleeping in their opioid blanket. One needs hibernating days for the force to recharge , like seeds need a cold snap to germinate. Perhaps some invisible magic happens in that rest – do you know about Kirlian photography? Fascinating.

    And agree on words words words;although what do they represent? I’ve always referred to it as a tao-lump – the essence of what we try to depict. Duns Scotus called it the thisness.

    The thisness of knowing you are feeling a little mending stirs like mead within me. Hope it does for Kate too.
    A littel new year haiku:

    Liquid poison burned
    cuts slashed in soft skin –
    pruned, the spirit flowers.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s