Sunday, 18 January 2009

A Tale From My Erstwhile Career

A tentacle of god, suckered
With marian mouths,
Twisting like a high sail.

Marian flowers, three petalled,
Enclosing the godseed.

Just one arm of the octopus
Visible, the other seven,
Spectral, lashing round
The stone spike, all four winds
And their brothers.

Sense of beast breathing,
The perceptible rise and fall,
The pulse in viagra-bonded
Stone - medieval pornography.

There is the Oscillation, the Sway
And worst of all the Corkscrew.

What would you know of life
At the tip of a living stalagmite?

Marian vaginas, three lobed,
Mons veneris, labia majoris,
Inside, the ball of the head
Of the sacred child.

Seven tentacles of wind,
One for each planetary
Influence were seating the rails
And trundle of my fate.

Half a long kilometer
Of rope I hauled, snaring-in
The winds, force-ten, eleven.

Recovered with coffee, gateaux,
Kirsch cherries, shaking and snarling.

Those ornaments are called ballflowers - I've never heard a satisfactory explanation for them. Some prelates mumble about the Trinity, but if so, the ball of Christ's head in the centre makes Four... Personally, I think it is a stylised womb with a trinity symbol incorporated, and the head of christ visible within, either as homunculus, or as child being born. (I have been within inches of a trinity of children born over the last six years, so humour me!)

When I took the photo at the top I was stood on the top of the tower 220 feet up. The spire carries on for another 184. And yes, I was at the top in force 11 once. And yes, it is horrible, sincerely horrible from the depth of hell to the top of your spirit, wrong, utterly wrong. And I'm not scared of heights. But the gateaux and cherries were remarkably pleasant.


This is to illustrate what I was just talking about here.

This part of the post might vanish. I'll leave it for a few days, but here is a video from the top of that damned spire.

Running a business is stressful enough. I started mine in the same month I started my MA and my family! Having employees who have just started families and who rely on you for the work is stressful too. When the day at work is in places like this, then there really isn't any respite. After seven years, looking back after a year out, I'm really not that surprised I got ill.

p.s. That's my best friend filming.


differentlysane said...

I am scared of heights so I am thoroughly impressed!

Take care,

Abysmal Musings said...

Thanks Differently.

LoopyKate said...

Holy shit!!
May I say - that's quite an apt career for a manic-depressive.
Not surprised you got ill mind.
I've often wondered at the petrified medieval porn myself. Got no better explanation for 'ball flowers' though.

LoopyKate said...

p.s in response to the question on previous post:
I think the Beckett play could be 'Not I' - the one with just a mouth in pitch darkness.
Or it could be 'Endgam'e - 2 dudes in the ashbins.
Or it could be fuckin any of them!
I'm sorry, I'm better on the novels. His obsessively controlling stage management and directing always made me wary of getting involved with the 'dramatics'.

Abysmal Musings said...

I looked it up - Happy Days... mwah ha ha ha