Category Archives: personal

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 9

Here’s this week’s update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge.

Monday 26 August
In postprandial
balmy twilight, sitting out.
But where are the bats?

Tuesday 27 August
Chattering, London
Historians, enjoying
yearly lunch party.

Wednesday 28 August
Girls in skimpy shorts,
pelmet skirts, crop tops, no tops.
It’s what summer’s for.

Thursday 29 August
Government holding
democracy to ransom.
Civil war looms large.

Friday 30 August
Thick of head and brain,
full of snot and sore of throat.
Cauldron of head cold.

Saturday 31 August
Disturbed by dreams.
Why such poor sleep when unwell?
Better sleep tonight?

Sunday 1 September
Wakefulness falters.
An afternoon nap beckons.
Much better after.

And here’s the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
Written
1 16
2 28
3 33
4 26
5 26
6 27
7 28
8 24
Week Haiku
Written
9 28
10  
11  
12  
13  
14  
15  


Next instalment, next Sunday.

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 8

Here’s this week’s update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge.

Monday 19 August
A small brown shell moth
rests on the bathroom ceiling.
Not good camouflage.

Tuesday 20 August
Once upon a time,
deep in historical mists,
the story was born.

Wednesday 21 August
So where am I now?
Three words will tell exactly
anywhere on Earth.

Thursday 22 August
Dreams that disturb sleep.
Dreams with many-layered plots.
Strange Byzantine dreams.

Friday 23 August
The optician
rechecks my visual fields.
Dots before the eyes.

Saturday 24 August
Berry fruits and plum,
nectarine, cherry brandy.
Summer fruit salad.

Sunday 25 August
Sweaty textile hell.
Be brave, go nude, why care so?
Comfort over style.

And here’s the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
Written
1 16
2 28
3 33
4 26
5 26
6 27
7 28
8 24
Week Haiku
Written
9  
10  
11  
12  
13  
14  
15  


Next instalment, next Sunday.

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 7

Here’s this week’s update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge.

Monday 12 August
State registered
geriatric, so I am.
Have granny bus pass.

Tuesday 13 August
Sixteen sixty-six
fire destroyed London town.
Sadly rebuilt by Wren.

Wednesday 14 August
Friends talking travel
to mysterious places
I’ll never visit.

Thursday 15 August
Four women and me
drink together in the pub.
The lone male survives?

Friday 16 August
Touch is medicine.
Deep tissue massage is good,
if uncomfortable.

Saturday 17 August
Little Jacky Horner,
just so quiet in his corner,
enjoys pinching bums.

Sunday 18 August
Outside the window
bright coloured fluttering:
Jersey Tiger moth.

And here’s the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28
3 33
4 26
5 26
6 27
7 28

More next week.

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 6

Here’s this week’s update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge. (BTW this is the SFW version.)

Monday 5 August
Sunday, oh Sunday,
why always so full of work?
Please adjust God’s week!

Tuesday 6 August
Evening shower,
fresh laundered bed linen.
So sensual again.

Wednesday 7 August
Teenage skin complaint:
acne is not the acme
nearing seventy.

Thursday 8 August
Outside the town hall
a street tree, dusty and green.
Rain soon refreshes.

Friday 9 August
Reclines on the bed
bemoaning lack of TV.
Old stuffed tiger.

Saturday 10 August
Windy day, so strange;
driving rain and sunshine too.
August unravels.

Sunday 11 August
Bounding along twigs
putting circus acts to shame.
Daredevil squirrel.

And here’s the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28
3 33
4 26
5 26
6 27

More next week.

Ten Things, August

This year our Ten Things series is focusing on each month in turn. The Ten Things may include facts about the month, momentous events that happened, personal things, and any other idiocy I feel like – just because I can. So here are …

Ten Things about August

  1. Pagan festival of Lammas (Lughnasadh)
  2. Summer bank holiday on last Monday (for most of the UK)
  3. UK School holidays and family holiday time
  4. Grouse shooting opens on the Glorious Twelfth
  5. The month was renamed in honour of Roman Emperor Augustus
  6. Edinburgh Festival
  7. Royal National Eisteddfod
  8. Notting Hill Carnival
  9. 27th is the official date when Julius Caesar invaded Britain
  10. Feast of the Assumption

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 5

Another weekly update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge. Inspiration and creativity continue to to be in short supply – I’m not good at either, and that’s the point: to try to improve. Anyway, here’s this week’s daily selection.

Monday 29 July
The rain it raineth
every day – not always here,
it just feels that way.

Tuesday 30 July
Disappearances:
Mysterious? Oh really?
Bermuda Triangle.

Wednesday 31 July
Wild boar. Friend or foe?
Millions of disease vectors
but lots of paté.

Thursday 1 August
Willow tree, so green,
is the paint upon the wall.
Dining room is done.

Friday 2 August
Recently mown grass.
Crows hunting amongst the hay.
Lone cedar stands guard.

Saturday 3 August
Housefly, nuisance fly
buzzing around our bedroom.
Magazine scored.

Sunday 4 August
Mary’s lamb is little.
Mary’s lamb is snowy white.
But there’s no dwarves here.

And the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28
3 33
4 26
5 26

More next week.

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 4

Weekly update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge. I’ve struggled for inspiration again this week – well the hot weather has helped nothing – but here’s this week’s selection (one a day).

Monday 22 July
Bright green minibeast,
door lintel is its park bench:
small oak bush cricket.

Tuesday 23 July
Little brown fluttery-by
busily seeking nectar
in overgrown hedge.

Wednesday 24 July
Clear azure blue sky,
zip-wired swifts circling high
pick off flying ants.

Thursday 25 July
Wispy mare’s tail
cirrus clouds so high above.
Swifts circling below.

Friday 26 July
Harley or Honda?
Who cares the make when all rev
so noisily.

Saturday 27 July
Sleeping all day long:
pussy cat where have you been?
Night down the rat mines.

Sunday 28 July
Rain, glorious rain,
making gardens green again.
Daybreak brings wet cats.

And the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28
3 33
4 26

More next week.

On Protest

A few days ago one of our favourite Zen masters, Brad Warner, wrote a blog post under the title What You Don’t Speak Out Against You Co-sign? He was responding to a comment that “what you don’t speak out against you co-sign” and taking him to task for not openly campaigning against Donald Trump and all that he stands for. Needless to say Brad disagreed, as I do too.

Let’s start off being clear. “What you don’t speak out against you co-sign” means “If you don’t speak out against something then you are supporting, aiding, facilitating, even encouraging it”.

As Brad says, this is a very common way of thinking. It goes along with the “if good men do nothing …” trope. But it isn’t true and it is (designed to be) divisive and create factions. It is nothing short of moral blackmail.

Many people see their target as some variant of evil. So if you don’t campaign, demonstrate or protest against Donald Trump, Boris Johnson, Brexit, pervasive CCTV, fossil fuels, or whatever, then you condone them and you are the work of the Devil. Not so.

In Brad’s words:

If someone characterizes you as evil, do you want to be friends with them? Do you want to support the things they support? Do you want to listen to their reasons for calling you evil? Or are you more likely to say, “Well screw you!” and deliberately support whatever it is they’re against?
… …
The stance that [such people] are taking will only drive more people to support the [cause] they hate.

So their efforts become a self-denying ordinance.

Also implicit in this is (a) that there is one right and one wrong answer, and (b) that there is only one way to protest. Some must choose to refrain from joining in with the noise everyone else is making. Protesting noisily is seldom effective. In general, protests and petitions work only to reinforce the determination to do whatever is being protested against. They may convince those who are already of like mind to join your bandwagon, but to many, like me, they are annoying and pointless – even if I agree with the sentiments.

Don’t get me wrong. I object just as strongly to the same things (see list above) as anyone else. But I choose not be be mouthy about it or jump on bandwagons. Like Brad I am not skilled in political rhetoric, and whatever I might wish to say has already been said a thousand times over by those more skilled (and likely more knowledgeable) than me. So I would largely be wasting my breath.

Everything goes through cycles and fashions; always has, always will. Ultimately “we are where we are” and “what will happen will happen” – although by “right action” we can indeed hope to affect the outcomes. But what is “right action” for you may not be so for me.

Essentially it doesn’t matter what I say. Brexit will happen or it won’t happen. North Korea will blow us all sky high, or it won’t. Rinse and repeat, with your cause du jour.

That’s not to say that we shouldn’t speak out about things we fundamentally disagree with, but there won’t be thousands not speaking out because I keep quiet: there is already plenty of discussion and debate. Your mileage may vary.

Like Brad, I believe there is a better way, at least for me. First of all staying silent (or maybe just quieter) helps protect my sanity – something which is precarious enough for most of us at the best of times. The Dalai Lama always talks about compassion, and self-care is only having compassion for oneself. Without self-compassion and self-care you are not able, and not there, to show compassion for others.

Keeping silent has other benefits too. It provides quiet space where other topics, perhaps of more immediate personal importance or urgency, can be discussed. And, when appropriate, it also allows controversialists and facilitators (as I like to think I am) help others see the wood for the trees and take an appropriately thoughtful and nuanced approach, rather than jumping on some blinkered, raucous bandwagon.

There’s more than one way to stop the crocodile running off with the sausages.

For another perspective on this see Silent Protests Are Still Protests.

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 3

Weekly update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge. Not such a good week, this wek, as I’ve struggled much more for inspiration, but here’s this week’s selection (one a day).

Monday 15 July
Small roach, I feared!
Closer look in shower shows
just a tiny moth.

Tuesday 16 July
Grey shape, movement in
silver birch. Camouflaged
squirrel eating shoots.

Wednesday 17 July
Red golden glows the
moon eclipse through lacy trees.
Such speechless beauty.

Thursday 18 July
A lady’s pretty
cunt glimpsed beneath a skirt.
Such rare delight.

Friday 19 July
Bold Samuel Pepys
much drinking and wenching did;
but bad boy done good.

Saturday 20 July
Soft rain, heavy rain:
wring out the returning cats
many times today.

Sunday 21 July
Flashing red and white:
a Red Admiral supping
Buddleia’s nectar.

And the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28
3 33

More next week.

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 2

As promised, a weekly update on my progress through my 100 Days of Haiku challenge.

My target is to write at least one haiku each day. In week one I churned out 16, although not all were good. This week, week two, I’ve written 28 – again not all good – and I have a few ideas on the stocks. Here is a selection, one a day, from this week.

Monday 8 July
Always branded bad:
erotic, pornography,
essential for life.

Tuesday 9 July
Sunny windowsill;
solar-charging cat dozing.
Night out spent mousing.

Wednesday 10 July
Dryad of wormwood,
halucinogenical.
Fay green absinthe.

Thursday 11 July
Awakening to
pigeon’s morning serenade.
Warm snugly lover.

Friday 12 July
Foot pain go away
though treatment more painful.
Attractive masseuse.

Saturday 13 July
Cool evening breeze
wafts away humid summer
sunshine and warmth.

Sunday 14 July
Catnip stuffed fish.
Hallucinogen causes
spaced out pussy.

So let’s keep a tally of how many we write each week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28

We’ll have another instalment next week.