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Bear with me, I'm on a journey

by Helên Thomas

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1.
She said: I’m a loose cannon; An unopened yoghurt pot, past its sell by date and full of gas! He said: I’m not. I’m a matchstick model replica of something from the past; I take ages to assemble but I’m not built to last. She said: Oh, I know…. what you mean; I’ve crashed, I’ve burned, I’ve splintered, and I’ve vented my spleen; I’m a full throttle talker, it would take Murray Walker to do the commentary on the documentary about me. He said: Oh, should we order food now? She said: Yes, I could eat a horse. He said: Oh, I’m a vegan. She said: I was on the sauce last night; I’ve got a mean hangover and a raging appetite. He said: I just drink ‘eau’ you know, water; I’m a tad faddish; I like alfalfa sprouts and radish; saltless, GM free, organic; can’t touch Indian or Hispanic or anything exotic; I’m on anti-biotics and I’ve got a touchy tract; it won’t tolerate lact- ose. She said: Oh, I know, I’m just the same; I can’t tolerate tractors or life in the slow lane; I’m an urban girl at heart; the only time I’ll look at a cow is when it’s pickled in the name of art. He said: Oh! So you like art? She said: No.
2.
If I disappear, on a bare, drunken swim, while bereft clothes wait, cliché piled, by the outgoing sea, promise me… If I vanish, into emaciated air, while silver cigars probe our skies, flashing lights that strobe the trees, promise me… If I decay, in an unmarked grave, secreted beneath wasteland clay, my fate perplexing mystery, promise me… If I’m last seen, as an orange, web cam blur, pleading before balaclavered boys, to deaf imperialists, on my knees, promise me… If I don’t arrive, and defy a routine, retold on Crimewatch, in ethereal, patchwork CCTV, promise me… If you do nothing else please promise me you won’t tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree.
3.
Money, work, moving house, babies, romance, love, friendship, children, pets, hospitals. Some of you will be diagnosed with cancer today. Everything will be all right. Sun signs, phases, opportunities, challenges. Saturn, the lunar eclipse, Uranus. Some of you will hurt yourselves, or others, today. Everything will be all right. Mercury, dark strangers, lottery winnings. For those of you born on the cusp, the full moon could mark the beginning of an episode of psychosis. Everything will be all right. Promotion, alignments, Venus in your house squaring with Pluto. Your dog may require euthanasia later in the week. Everything will be all right. Frustration, crossroads, new horizons, family matters, career, health. You may have to take the day off work, as today could be the day you admit your child into the local hospice for respite care. Everything will be all right. Conjunctions, opposites, your life path, childhood, social life, parties. Expect an invitation to attend the funeral of an old school friend. Memories, partnerships, emotions. Everything will be all right. Something about the discovery of new planets and the downgrading of old ones. The cycle of life. Changes in your environment. The more senior amongst you may be institutionalised today. Everything will be all right. Metaphorical doors, home improvements, doors opening, doors closing, revolving doors. The repetition of patterns of behaviour. Resist. Your ruling planet goes partially retrograde towards the end of the month. Some of you will die. Everything’s going to be all right. Call or text to find out why destiny wears red this Thursday.
4.
My glitter ball sees all with its flies’ eyes It never cries or sheds a tear It does not drink beer despite spinning around a lot at parties It's not a drunkard or a tarty thing. Its relatives I've seen on 'Come Dancing' though it doesn't much go in for romancing It's reflective and quiet and has moody swings but we never argue about anything It's at its best when the sun's at an angle bouncing beams off the walls making spangles of globing orb strobing square snaps of light It never studies but my ball's very bright clad in a multi faced mirrored mosaic juggling daylight as I awake launching dawn lasers around multi hued this revolver shoots bullets of sheer pulchritude It's a piece of suspended animation broken reflections in rotation and I ask, "Would you rather be flat on a wall in a flat, on a wall, Ball?" And with its smile shaming sheen It gives no reply enigmatic as ever I suspect that it's shy. Helên Thomas 2002.
5.
My kidneys wrote me a letter: they thanked me for all the tea, and voiced their approval of my much reduced alcohol consumption, though they did still enjoy the occasional gin and tonic. They weren’t quite so keen on my twelve-hour winter sleepathons: extended duvet days, which they said made them feel dried out, sluggish and dirty. They voiced their hope that I never become a Jehovah’s witness. They thanked me for shunning The Atkins Diet, but mentioned that they wouldn’t mind trying Vorderman’s detox, or at least the latest antioxidant infused, dairy-free, Tibetan snowberry juice with added flavonoids. They seemed quite well read for kidneys. I wondered, how did they look; like identical twins? Or was one slightly bigger, more dominant in a passive-aggressive whiny campaigning way, whilst the other, quiet-life loving kidney would happily acquiesce. Were they ever as cartoon jolly as their smooth, smiley kidney shape might imply? Then I re-read the letter, and realised that it was all about them; just a list of demands. Not once did they ask about me; they couldn’t care less how I was. Who did they think they were? I filled in my donor card and stepped out blindly into the centre of the road.
6.
the culinary puffer fish as metaphor for my cutting words The Japanese word ‘sushi’ means ‘it is sour’ sometimes it’s lethal blowfish or puffer by another name fugu often is fatal prepare for repast take out prandial peril tetrodotoxin deadly delicious clean cuts render edible go gall bladder, guts bile free and spineless sound bites edited; souped up vitriol punctured unsayable truths filleted for consumption in palatable portions raw cyanide, sliced, diced, redesigned, redefined ‘that’s nice’, served with rice

about

More ill at easy listening. Bear with me, I'm on a journey.

credits

released July 3, 2020

Words Helên Thomas
Music Helên Thomas and Owen J.
Cover art - photo by Owen J.

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about

Helên Thomas UK

Reformed poet. Woman one from wonky synth duo Tingle In The Netherlands.
You will find dark, difficult, experimental music here and by way of a total contrast, some up tempo poetry for children and, if I can find it all, an ad hoc archive of randomness for grown ups and idiots.
Make of this what you will. Note to parents: not all of the adult poems are suitable for children. Please supervise.
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