Fernando Pessoa ( 13/6/1888 - 30/11/35) Rediscovering The Book of Disquiet

Today marks the 80th anniversary of Fernando Pessoa's  death the great Portugese, poet, writer, philosopher. Just  recently rediscovered his book  The Book of Disquiet courtesy of my dear friend Dave Datblygu,a book I have read in many different versions,various translations a timeless tome  to loneliness, melancholy, failure and the human condition I am often drawn to these subject matters. Like many of us, he spent much of his time in isolation, seemingly talking to himself. Living in a series of rented rooms in Lisbon, chain smoking, drinking heavily,mainly writing, reading and leading an introspective life, with a keen interest in the occult, he had a correspondence with the magician Aleister Crowley.Fernando considered himself as an outsider looking in on life in Lisbon.
In the opening lines of  one of his best known poems, The Tobacco Shop, he wrote :-

I'm nothing,

I'll always be nothing,

I can't wait to be something,

But I have in me all the dreams of the  world.


When Pessoa died in 1935 a few years short of 50 he left behind lots of unpublished writings. The Book of Disquiet is undoubtedly his  masterwork. He worked on it over  three decades, in the  end their was no definite order of its 500 or so sections, no order achieved or even hinted at, a random note to self. In the book  he took on many identities and personalities, eradicating any traces of  autobiographical feeling and experience, he seemed to be possessed by different characters and  fragments of personae that he found within himself. Significantly one name soars above the rest a ' Bernardo Soares' an assistant bookeeper in Lisbon.
It is a self depreciating reflection on the sheer distance  between the loftiness of feeling and the humdrum reality of life,meandering in sequences of unpredictablity,  this book  is a classic  of existentialist literature. Many people are still discovering this wonderful melancholic writer, conjurer of deep imagination.
So thanks /diolch Dave and if like me you are of a contemplative disposition, then this book  I heartily recommend. It will  truly change the way you see things.A beautiful journey nevertheless...
In the meantime here's an extract :-

" It's  one of those days when the monotony of everything oppresses me like being thrown into jail. The monotomy of myself, however.  Each face, even if seen just yesterday, is different today, because today isn't yesterday. Each day is the day it is,  and there was never another one like it in the world. Only our soul makes the identification - a genuinely felt but erroneous identification - by which everything becomes similar and  simplified. The world is a set of distinct things with varied edges, but if we're  near-sighted, it's a continual and indecipherable fog.
I feel like fleeing. Like fleeing from what I know, fleeing from what's mine, fleeing from what I love. I want to depart,  not for impossible Indias or for the great islands south of everything, but for any place  at all - village  or wilderness - that isn't this place. I want to stop seeing these unchanging faces, this routine, these days. I want to rest, far removed, from my inveterate feigning. I want to feel sleep come to me as life, not as rest. A cabin on  the seashore or even a cave in a rocky mountainside could give me this, but my will unfortunately, cannot.
Slavery is the law of life, and it is the only law, for it must be observed, there is no revolt possible, no way to escape it. Some are born slaves, others become slaves, and still others are forced to accept slavery. Our faint-hearted love of freedom - which, if we had it, we would all reject, unable to get used to it - is proof of how ingrained our slavery is. I myself, having just said that  I'd like a cabin or a cave where I could be free from the monotomy of everything, which is the monotomy of me - would I dare set  out for this cabin or cave, knowing from experience that the monotomy, since it stems from me, will always be with me? I myself, suffocating from where I am and because I am - where would I breathe easier, if the sickness is in my lungs rather than in the things  that surround me, I myself who long for pure-sunlight and open country, for the ocean in plain view, and the unbroken horizon - could I get used to my  new bed,  the food not having to descend eight flights  of stairs   in the streets and entering the tobacco  shop on the corner, not saying good morning  to the barber standing outside his shop.
Evdeerything that surrounds us becomes part of us, infiltrating our physical sensations and our feelings of life,  and like spittle of the great spider,  it subtley binds us to whatever is close, tucking us  into a soft bed of slow death which is rocked by the world.  Everything is us,  and we are everything but what  good is this, if everything is nothing? A ray of sunlight, a clud whose shadow tells us it is passing, a breeze that rises, the silence that follows when  it rises, ceases, one or another for a few voices, the incidental laughter of the girls who are talking,  and then night with the meaningless, fractured  hieroglyphs of the stars."

International day of solidarity with the Palestinian people

In 1977, the United Nations General Assembly called  for this day the 29th of November to be an annual observance of International Solidarity with the Palestinian people. An observance I mark daily.
I acknowledge too,  all those who have struggled for the Palestinians cause and all the Palestinians who have had to live and endure life under occupation, as refugees and in exile. A solidarity that sadly is still so much needed because Israel continues  to daily violate their basic human rights with impunity. In  the last few weeks  alone we have seen more Palestinians shot down and killed ( young and old) the continuation of home demolitions, the seizure of their land, and the continued seige of Gaza and the West Bank.
This injustice and suffering must cease. I passionately believe it is a moral and humanitarian responsibility to share their burden. As individuals we should pressure our governments to compel Israel, the occupying power to abide by International law to put an end to its daily violations and illegal aggressive destructive practices that disregard  international law.
The occupation of Palestinian territory ( the West Bank, including East Jerusalem and the open prison of the Gaza strip ) must cease,  along with the punitive arrests, unfair treatment and excessive use of force.
It is our duty to support their struggle through boycott, divestment and sanctions, to continue to share their story's, about these proud people who refuse to lie down, whose spirit refuses to be defeated, whose pain must end. With solidarity and humanity, and pain in our hearts we must keep trying to bring an end of their collective punishment.
I realise that their are wars and turmoil all around us at the moment, in places like Syria and the recent terrorist atrocity in Paris but we must not allow them to distract our attentions from the Palestinians. The human tragedy of Palestine is ever so real, we cannot be deaf and blind to their plight.

Rafeef Ziadeh - Shades of Anger

Palestinian Nutritional facts

Black Friday ( a poem)

Black Friday, people in such a rush
like the world is suddenly going to end,
the heat is on to buy more and more
crowds pushing, shoving for deals galore
cash  registers flashing, money overflowing
as people grab things they don't really need.

Black Friday, black bloody night
with the tories daily stalking our lives,
creating consumer madness
people driven to despair,
fighting for a bargain
instead of for their lives.

Black Sunday, Black Monday, Black Tuesday
on and on as they push us to breaking point;
turn our days dark in the middle of the day
I see red, but carry on walking,
I have no time for over consumption
bottle open  still  have to be careful.

I really do not understand this joyless frenzy
given over to the temple of greed and hopelessness
fighting for brands that I've never heard of
I prefer to spend my days following love,
will  ignore this nightmarish capitalist rush
wake up when all over, with some spare change

No bombing of Syria

Currently the warmongerers are gathering  planning to bomb Syria. Tomorrow though  will see thousands on  the streets in towns and cities across Britain urging David Cameron not to bomb Syria,  and try to  prevent him from leading us into another dangerous war.
Partner ill in hospital at moment otherwise I would be marching too as I did with  millions of others against the Iraq war, we must not forget that the UK has been bombing other countries for a decade and a half, the cost millions of innocent lives. Doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results meets Albert Einsteins definition of madness,
Air strikes in Syria could risk devastating consequences. Let us remember this is not te only country facing evil at the present time, we cannot afford  to allow innocents to be collectively punished. War is an act of terrorism too, only on a bigger budget.
Do we stoke and inflame an already perilous situation that could result in Isis's disease spreading further,  acting as a recruitment to this death cult.
Here is John Pilger, a man I have admired for a long time, who always has the courage to speak the truth as he sees it. A true inspiration. Here he speaks on Isis, Syria, the press and Jeremy Corbyn. Blessed are the peacemakers.

You can lobby your own M.P here :-

http://stopwar.org.uk/resources/petitions/stop-the-bombing-of-syria-now-lobby-your-mp-now

No silver linings

(Originally published here:- at I am not a silent Poet blog  https://iamnotasilentpoet.wordpress.com/2015/11/25/no-silver-linings-by-dave-rendle/  ok that's teifidancer finally outed)

Golden brown and silver foil,
took some dear friends far away,
a deadly seducer of illusion,
freezing and numbing souls forever,
sending senses into endless sleep,
sweet brothers to run out of steam,
having released poison into veins,
voices left eternally in disarray.

In the morning and dusk,
lights went out, compasses lost,
in cold sweats, demons vapour called,  
sadness became a pleading cry
riding on waves of oblivion,
spreading sorrow and tears,
shooting up deadly obsession,
instead of love, destruction called,
navigating kinsmen to goodbye's door.

I remember now as November rain falls,
how their breathes slipped away,
memories  that still run deep,
seduced and taken into infinite depths,
crying inside, but lost outside,
innocents who pushed too hard,
who speak to me now only in dream.

May perilous journeys act as warnings,
because Mr Brown is such bad company,
a negator of life a creator of ruin,
leaving to many holes of emptiness,
a beautiful flower when grown in the wild,
but on the streets, spreads to much hurt.

When we lose our fear, they lose their power.

In the present climate our lives are currently being saturated by round the clock fear. Scaremongering headlines fill our homes and our public spaces. The fear of war, the fear of terror, the fear of this and that, your neigbours, your community. Crisis and panic  is all we seem to talk or care about. Horror after horror, catastrophe after disaster,  cruelty and tragedy impose on all or waking days. It seems to be the  new order of the day. Perpetrated and spread by the media, the usual suspects the Daily Fail, the Scum, the Daily Express etc etc, CNN, Fox, the BBC, most of Murdochs outposts of bile.
We should not forget about Paris, Syria, Palestine ( replace with any random country) whatever stirs our hearts, what has happened cannot be simply wiped out, but surely it is time now to start losing our fears.
We must remember that in reality , in everyday our everyday lives are remarkably safe, but  the threat  of terror abounds and is cultivated, a fear that does us no good. It is important to reflect of course, but we should not get fixated, we should try to carry on doing what we normally do,  here I am again in the library, later might have a cold beer, go for a walk, smoke a joint, have a nap, maintain my inner being, will try not to be consumed by fear. Give it a try and while your at it, stop spreading it. Remember that fear is a lucrative business, and that people are daily getting richer from it, don't allow it to take control, that enables the terrorists and dirty politicians to win.
Do not  lose your resolve, your convictions and faith, refuse to stigmatise, do not allow the good to become the bad, this enables the bad to become even more powerful. It is time though for the start the war coalition to be stopped.
Remember when we  lose our fear, they lose their power.

Ode to Jeremy Hunt

( a rather silly ode, composed this morning)

Oh Jeremy Hunt, I'll be rather blunt
you really are a complete Tory c***t
it is not junior doctors that are a threat to patients
the true danger lies with you and your friends
cutting funds and asset stripping, tearing apart our beloved NHS
because your conning us, letting this essential service to be broken
carving it up, allowing its put upon workers to carry on choking
your laugh is like bad medicine, poison for our soul
you refuse to  face our questions, your simply out of control
you continue to use damaging words against health professionals
won't meet  demands, reach out and find some concessions
but we will keep pleading for more consistency 
as we rage and rally against your toxicity
cos Jeremy Hunt, you really are a stupid runt
I hope the people of this land  give you a shunt.

'I'm turning into an anarchist' - Benjamin Zephaniah

Writer and poet Benjamin Zepaniah, who I've  always considered one of the good guys, Anarchist or not  he always speaks from the heart, and like George Orwell, the more he understands and continues to inspire, as he rejects a society that rejects people, and dehumanises along the way, I  will agree with him, in the sense that those that those against mutli-culturalism here In Britain, are truly the most anti-British among us.
Long may he help us and inspire, with his revolutionary attitudes and passion and long continue being a  poet of the people, his words nurturing people from all walks of life . We need men like this, in days like these, I for one am grateful for his attitudes and beliefs, his words. He is certainly not mellowing  with age, respect to him always, long may he release his inner rage.

This is Syria

This is Syria, this poem bears witness,
to all that suffer upon it's land,
muslims,Shiites, Druze, Kurds,
Circassion, Sunni, Ismaili,
Alawites, Mershdis, Sufi, Christian,
brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, 
sons and daughters,sharing a common burden, 
all in need of our tears, and deepest sympathy.
deliverance from both Assad and Isis
                                 
Syria is their land, their shared identity,
whose people carry a fierce pride,
in ancient traditions and culture,
their history and tales, now lost in misery,
because the scent of their homeland,
is stained now with  tears and blood,
souls daily carried on voyages of weariness.

Not all these people are extremists,
neither should we call then terrorists    
these are labels given by the the media,
that feeds us daily with fear and hate,
do you seek the truth, or do you look away?
turn your backs, forget their situation?
disregard these compromised states of existence,
as the smell of death encases their land.

Do we carry on walking, with our eyes shut,
pass the tragedy and misery of their struggle,
do we allow these proud spirits to be subdued,
as they plead  for their shared pain to end,
as their world implodes, and darkness engulfs,
let us deliver to them peaceful solutions,
no more bombs  allowed to fall on innocents,
let jasmines soft sweetness bloom again,
to shower this land with everlasting peace.