In memory of my friend Christopher Daybell. ~ Irish poet.

This is a poem by a prolific poet who was definitely under-appreciated, while he was alive. He was a man of the times, a voice of the people. Yet, if you go into a book shop in his home town, you cannot buy his art. He is interesting because he gave up his job as a lawyer very early on in his career, to become a full time poet. I used to meet him in the street where he would be busking his poems. He always had a friendly smile, and a kind word, a real gentleman of the old school. Blonde curly locks down to his shoulders, blue eyes, and the classic tan colored corderouy lapelled jacket. His name was Christopher Daybell, born in 1939, died, much too early, in 1990.

Recently I have become semi-obsessed with finding this man's collections and my investigations lead me to the National Library in Dublin. I was delighted to discover that he had been a prolific writer and found approximately seventy-two booklets and journals all containing his works.

Once I got over the feeling that I was spying in on something which hadn't openly asked to be spied upon, I found my self relaxing into reading the poetry. I was so impressed that I managed to allow the librarian to talk me into looking into the publishing rights. This was completely unprecedented, considering the fact that originally all I wanted to do was to replace my lost magazines.

Here is one that I particularly liked, as it seems to match the mood of the other poetry I have been reading recently, and my minor obsession with Nietzche quotes.

Illusions

Intense unity is parting,

The essence is change.

Would it not weary you

If I was always beside you?

What would we do with completeness

But secure it.

In the illusion of safety

The rock that never was.

Through ambivalence we see

The simple destroys,

The complex includes.

We could both part or stay.

Indifference can be positive

Not neglect.

I watched your face from the train.

The rain came on the way.

The times of danger

are the times of hope,

For them most people

will believe in anything.

Is anything more false

Than the single truth

Explaining everything

When nothing is explained.

By

Christopher Daybell

Not about Japan ~ deliberately.

Has any one else noticed that their spelling has gone down-hill since using spell-check on a regular basis. I did once know how to spell 'deliberately'. But laziness has set in, with the: 'I can always use spell-check', attitude. I used to pride myself on being able to spell. I put effort into it. I committed to memory the correct spelling of words I only once knew how to speak, and before that, didn't even know existed. There is awful beauty to discovering new words. A mystery uncovered. But as I change along side the flowing river of time. The line becomes thinner and I teeter along trying not to fall one side or the other. Must I really decide which way to jump? Or will I leave it to fate, and wait till an accident of nature decides for me. A self-imposed exile.

Well,

from 40 days to infinity. - and what four days without smoking can do to a persons brain.

My plan to quit smoking, comes like pretty much everything else, on impulse. When the time is right. it strikes me. A fairly haphazard way of living life, but it's my way. And I am not going to make any apologies for when things don't work out. There is no point, I will just punish myself by hitting the cigarettes again. I was just about to write 'fags', which is short for cigarette around here. But I remembered that in certain countries it is a very non-pc word for homosexual. My sister-in-law's sister is a lesbian, so I really don't want to come across as a gay-hater. She is also called Fiona which means when my nieces go to school and talk about their auntie Fiona being gay, well you get my drift, some confusion may arise as to which Auntie Fiona they are talking about. And considering that I am the only Auntie Fiona in living in the vicinity, I am assuming it is assumed to be me. I wonder how many hot-dates I have missed out on due to this confusion.

Imagine. Jonny Depp's identical twin brother Donny Depp, escapes from Mrs Depp's basement, where he has been chained since infancy. He happens upon a child of about 11 or so who happens to know my niece. I am walking by at that precise moment. He sees me and falls head-over-heels in love. "Who is that beautiful vision, She doeth look like my soul mate."

"Ah..." says little Gertrude, "I am sorry to have to break it to you sir, that doeth be my friends Auntie Fiona, The Lesbian." "Oh, my heart doth break!" Exclaims Donny.

The only good thing about this scene, is that I won't know a thing about it. And so my life goes on....