Category Archives: Words

Essays, poetry, haiku, haibun and meditations

Simple bread making

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500 grams of wholemeal flower with seeds in mixing bowl with teaspoon of salt.

Jug: 50 ml boiling water and teaspoon of sugar to disolve.  Then add 100 ml cold water, mix then add tablespoon of dried active yeast,  whisk and leave to froth for 10 mins. Whisk again and add 200 ml water and a glug of olive oil.

Pour onto flour and mix up using red paddle. Sprinkle bit of flour over it to manage stickiness. Give it a bit of a squeeze, prod and fumble. Put it somewhere warm to swell up.

Come back when it is big and have another prod and fumble. You can even scrape out and roll about on the kitchen table with a bit of flour  … The Postman Rings Twice!

Fold it up and leave a bit longer.

Grease bread tin and turn on oven to 220.

Stick dough in bread tin and then I put it in the grill area which is NOT turned on but gets quite snug with the oven underneath.

Should swell up until it looks like a loaf.

Stick in oven: 15 mins at 220 and 25 mins at 180.

Take it out. Check it’s cooked by tapping it on its bottom.  Leave to cool on wire rack.

Thanks to Carlito and Nando for teaching me how.

Sons and lovers

Hello Father
I caught sight of you
Reflected in that mirror in the lift
As I was rising up
From ground floor to six.

Funny that
It’s been so long since you died
And though I think of you sometimes
If I said it was often
That would be a lie.

But dream of you I did
Last night in the early hours before waking
You were sitting at the table
In a grey suit, looking smart
I said I like the haircut.

Funny thing
My love she says she is looking
More like her mother each day
I’ve seen her mother too
A look, a phrase, the way
She turns to look at you.

So has it come to pass
That my father and her mother
Are lovers just like us?

Upon a cushion

Zafu (Zen meditation cushion)
Zafu (Zen meditation cushion). Doggerel and crude sketch from sesshin a long time ago.

I sat upon a cushion
And I was feeling very comfy
But the radio was playing
Rock and pop and country

I sat upon my cushion
Or perhaps a cannon ball
My legs and head were hurting
I longed to crawl and bawl

I sat upon my cushion
Or in a snow scene ball
And there it covered all the ground
And glory shone around

I’m sitting on my cushion
Afloating on a lake
And all the water’s crystal clear
And I am bright awake

I’m sitting on my cushion
Surrendered to it now
Just breathing quiet and deeply
And ending with a bow

My cushion is a diaphragm
I rise and gently fall
Before or after giving birth
I’ve no idea at all

My cushion was a hard dry pulse
That now is soaked and soft
And I am ripening like a seed
My ego to throw off

I sat upon my cushion
And I did slip away
To darkness and deliverance
The pilot light of day

What do you think of toilet paper?

Dom and Malcolm

So I went into the pub and sat down with Mr Crown and Mr Sceptre. And I said unto them, speak to me of ‘marriage’. And Mr Crown (C) said, ‘give it a go; I’ll try everything once’. And Mr Sceptre (S) said, ‘I think it’s old fashioned; been there, done that!’

And so I said unto them, speak to me of ‘children’. And Mr C said, ‘give it a go!’ And Mr S added, ‘I would have more. A nice red haired woman, Russian girls, and a place in Cornwall where you can swim every day’.

And so I said unto them, speak to me of ‘giving’. And Mr C said, ‘give it away and then you’ve got more space. I gave my TV away and I got a whole space in the corner where I put a chair that I found in the street. Lovely view out of the window. I gained more than I lost … people have often bought it for themselves anyway.’ Mr S said, ‘giving is important. Universal law. If you give you often get back more in life’.

And so I said unto them, speak to me of ‘eating and drinking’. And Mr C said, ‘it’s a pleasure when it’s a necessity but when you are not hungry it is the worst thing that you can do. If it relates to hunger and that, it’s brilliant. But it can go a bit pear-shaped when it’s for pleasure. Over-eating is a bad thing’. Mr S said, ‘I love it. Meals. Guests. The French way; nine or ten course meal with lots of talk in between. Or a boil in the bag!’

And so I said unto them, speak to me of ‘work’. And Mr C said, ‘it’s good’. And Mr S added, ‘I enjoy it. Work tends to have bad connotations but I tend to enjoy it – it’s not work!’

And so I said unto them, speak to me of ‘joy and sorrow’. And Mr C said, ‘Give it a go; Friday joy, Saturday sorrow, Sunday joy’.  Mr S added, ‘I want to be emotional; be sad and joyful. I think of my daughter sometimes and I cry … both joy and sorrow come together.’

And I said unto them, speak to me of ‘houses’. And Mr C said, ‘bigger than a flat. Parents have houses. OK for grown-ups. Problems with roofs. You can only live in one room at one time. So if you have a house with eight rooms, seven eighths will be empty at any one time. I had a friend who moved out of his house and dug a hole in the garden and lived in it.’ And Mr S added, ‘I enjoy living in my house. But I am sad about the financial side – rents are too high; a noose around the neck. Smaller; should change as you get older.’

And I said unto them, speak to me of ‘clothes’. And Mr C said, ‘as you get older they are a better idea. Pants and socks you should buy new, everything else can be bought at the charity shop.’ And Mr S added, ‘I like to go clothes shopping with the boys at TK Maxx. Bit posh and the click of shoes. Makes me feel better.’

And I said unto them, speak to me of ‘buying and selling’. And Mr C said, ‘buying is easier than selling. Giving away is easier than eBay, boot sales and ads. Buy and give. If you buy, you lose the space.’ And Mr S said, ‘I don’t think of it’.

And I said unto them, speak to me of ‘crime and punishment’. And Mr S said, ‘it’s complex. In America there are too many people in gaol … one in seven are black.’ And Mr C said, ‘I’m a man whose glass is six sevenths full.’

And I said unto them let us cease from this endless questioning but before I stop, tell me, ‘what other questions should I ask?’ And Mr C said, ‘what do you think of toilet paper?’

Leaves in the sun

Pile of leaves

here the bottom
and across the pool,
reflections

Seated on a plaid blanket in black bathers, he looks East to where the sun rises. We know when he’s been by the offering at the side of the pool. A perfect duck dive, a bare face and then a clutch of rotting leaves.

He’s not like the ‘serious’ swimmers who toil back and forth with measured stops to check their times or take a drink. While they travel in straight lines, he curves in all directions, diving down into the blue box with the shifting glass ceiling.

One morning I ask him how he is. Eyes set in smile crinkles, he tells me that he is angry; angry with the petty incompetence of his working life and the inability of men and women to rise above mediocrity. Most mornings he is gone before I arrive, but I always know when he has been.

beside an empty pool
a fresh of pile of leaves
catching the sun

Yours and mine

Round and Round in the Circle Game

Yours and mine

It was a long drawn out winter and then such a short, late spring. I’m not sure if I saw the blossoms come and go. As the final separation drew closer, so the paperwork piled higher.

nice and pretty
but my hands are old
in the spring snow

Now, after years orbiting one another, deep space beckons; first a man with a van and a handful of friends, then a truck with a crew from the Ukraine.

sorted into piles
our record collection
once more yours and mine

 

Surprising View from a Room

Its been so cold and cloudy these last few days and then this morning clear blue skies at 5 o’clock in the morning. That was the view from my bed in Pullman Court.

I’m feeling a bit throaty but remember that when the weather started to clear yesterday, the pollen that feels like grains of acid made its presence known … Very late in the ‘summer’. What has happened to our weather.

Talking about colds, Nick the Framer said he had worn a mask from his workshop when caring for his ancient mother yesterday morning; just so she didn’t catch anything. Charlotte the French Horn noted that the Japanese did this too.

What? I’d seen pictures of this with people masked up in public and always thought this had to do with their own fastidiousness. It turns out that it was thoughtfulness about their fellows. It’s the same mindset that makes them wash before having a bath.

That is what came to mind this morning looking out over South London from the top floor. Sometimes your views say more about you than they do about your subject … and more about your subject than you realise.

The Japanese never cease to surprise and inspire.

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

Scrabble

A scrabble of whirlygig seeds lying on a cinder path

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is human nature to look for patterns, to see words in the random letters formed by fallen whirlygig seeds. Well so it seemed to me as I looked for something more than f and v.

cold and damp
the muted chatter of birds
this May day

Just 10 days to completion and we move out of the family home to flats on Streatham Hill; back from the sought after shoreline of Tooting Bec Common and bijou Balham.

Sometimes it all makes perfect sense and then other times no sense at all. ‘Who shook the tree?’ he cried, ‘Not I’, said she.

slow train to Balham
a dandelion clock trembles
in long green grass

‘Twas I’.

‘Easily led’, the school master said …

beyond the fallen tree
green blades twitch beneath
an empty bench

 

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

Life is softening us up

Note to my friend Nick who had just sent me this text on his way from having a dodgy tooth sorted out by the dentist.

‘Just on way home , dentist described tooth as lively as he worked on it . I was expecting him any moment to say, ‘Is safe? Is safe?’

My reply: Just finished two hour meditation and sitting in Pret a Manger on Piccadilly. Had a chat to Brian who has been happily living out of a backpack in London for eight years .. clean, educated and loves his life.

Thought I had while meditating is that we grow up hard and resistant, ripen then soften like an apple; grubs drill down inside, we drop from the tree and slowly merge with the world around us. As people get older they become softer, more understanding, maybe more loving. At the same time our bodies open up to the world and are slowly dismantled until they stop working altogether and we return to the elements. I hope the dentist has done a good job of easing the discomfort that comes with the world’s deep embrace. 😉

His response:

‘Very well said and to the point. Not sure we all get softer and understanding though.’

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device