Hark!
Hark what?
Hark the herald angels sing?!?
Good for them.
Amen!
Awomen…
Indeed!
Exactly!
Goodbye?
Good riddance!!!
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Tag Archives: confusion
Jurányi
I missed the opening of an exhibition here recently and frankly if I had turned up and there hadn’t been free wine I may just have thrashed the gaff. Now the drawings were good as far as chalk on wall goes but I wouldn’t call it an exhibition: a drawing exhibited, but not warranting the whole nine yards. Unless there was free wine!
Well, anyway, inside this old school building, well preserved as it is, there is a passageway down beyond the entrance. Turning right and following the coloured lines one will find the gallery, the exhibition area, but more importantly the cafe/bar.
On offer there is a selection of sandwiches (tasting as if unwrapped), cakes – tempting to the sweet-toothed, and the remaining array of drinks you’d expect of any cafe.
Tucked inside the building one does get a feeling, what with hard chairs and checked tiled floors, that this could be canteeny, but being in the heart of an old school that doesn’t sound too shocking. There has been an attempt to brighten things up with the trademark colouring set not only on the corridor floor but on the programs strewn about, almost inconspicuously.
It is clean and there are even a few more comfortable sofas but what makes this place may be the view to the street or the courtyard or the chance to eavesdrop on artists’ conversations, but if like me you can’t speak Hungarian very well the former option is not enough. However, it doesn’t lack in energy replenishment: a lunchtime menu exists with soup, sandwich, salad choices, but for a person who craves atmosphere it is a bit of a let down.
Perhaps it’s the quiet before the storm; a festival event is scheduled for two hours from now. Perhaps it’s Friday. Perhaps it’s the hum of the fridges, the rain starting outside. All factors accounted for I ‘d say this place is a handy option in ‘out of the bustle’ this side of town, when bars and chain cafes aren’t your thing.
It could grow on me as a retreat from the crowd, but for now I must go in search of that very thing.
(NB: This was written in April of last year but all criticism is valid until it’s now!!!)
©TheHairyTeacher2014
It is, quite!
It’s quite possible that I see things differently to everybody else,
that I see danger at the corner cos it there resides.
That I see cheaters, schemers,, dreamers, in the words of rhetoric,
that I cannot believe in anything – but myself.
It’s quite possible that I see everything just like everybody else
but we’ve been lied to long enough so as to not even believe ourselves.
And in comparison where common ground is found
we are often made suspicious, even made to doubt-
for we must all be different and-
then be judged as though we’re not?
©TheHairyTeacher2014
It Could Be Anywhere
It could be Ireland but for the snow that comes in drifts, light flakes deceptive.
The green grass muddied once more encased,
and Spring entombed, perhaps,
so what comes next.
The rising cheer has so soon abated, as mother nature holds her breath.
Allowing still the chilling fingers caress the shrinking countryside once again.
Those tired of darkness they beg for Springtime,
the blossom’s mercy, the rose’s promise.
Blood on the carpet green, yellow, pink – exciting,
now all abounding with whitish sheen.
Little diamonds, slivers, pearing down in string-like curtains;
sending silence across the thoughts –
the land once more is sleeping.
Beneath, the street, ensnared only by our own vain wishes,
with city light and city surface,
sets cars heaving past hellbent on murder:
Their spring fizz slushed again in sludging cleanliness.
What’s left of autumn now is surely gone.
The blackened leaves tattoo the quiet streets
worn inky thin they’d stain like tarmac melt-
That once upon a knee in jeans attired.
Why? With such heat? Why, with youth, of course!
Contending here again with the damp, the chill, the beast
As another false alarm is trodden down.
Traffic moves again in lumbered, measured, plod.
What of the coming Spring?
Perhaps it never comes!
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Hecc
Whether this place turns out to be a joke remains to be seen but for the time being on a grey February morn*, just shy of my next class, it offers respite from all the timetabling and rushing. Whew!
It’s modern enough in feel but cosy enough to be homely. It’s not all sharp edges and minamilism.
Located just across from Erzsebet square with the pending Akvarium reopening promising an exciting and vibrant summer ahead, it could all come down to location location location.
A badly printed flyer brought me here: that and my inability to read. It said 50% off…but on second glance I realise it’s only for alcohol, and while that may be good tidings usually, there is another sting in the tail. All alcohol excluding beer and wine!!! As if there was any other types of alcohol!!! Whiskey, vodka, pálinka…they’re not alcohol. They’re death wishes in a bottle, unless you drink in moderation, but a place like this doesn’t promote a thing like that.
Now if they had 50% off their merely average coffee I’d be much happier. Grey mornings lean on grey moods perhaps. Bahhhh!
*A review late coming. Nevertheless on recently passing by the place remains the same, and empty. The newly opened Akvárium and surrounds have stolen any chance at thunder here methinks!!!
https://www.facebook.com/Hecc.Cafe
©TheHairyTeacher2014
The wait
The stripping away of her aesthetics and faith
Waiting in line for the afternoon x-ray
The true search within to reveal everything
Of a doubt that she’s had about Self.
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Finally
Fleeting fool forever forlorn
abandoning will to abstraction.
Fool forever forlorn feels
the hollow choices breathing.
Forever forlorn feels faintly
like the nightmarish doubt.
Forlorn feels faintly familiar.
And when the mirror’s dared again,
feels faintly familiar, finally!
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Face Off
The poisoned mind of online clutter, the shift from art to emptiness.
The bells, the lights of bar room games, at least a numbing quality.
Instead in this, a pernicious plot, slowly eroding reason.
And when the anger finally takes hold, I’m still responsible for my actions.
The inner fizz, the steam pipe hiss, the gas leak rising staunchly-
to ruin the air, the fettered mind, alone in the conclusion.
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Easter Passed Over
When the Friday claimed good is nigh upon us,
and the last cold snap of winter falls all round us,
when the expectations for a Spring sometimes grow too strong,
and the sullen mood in the shadows of Old Man have gone on too long
then all that’s left is positive spirits
all bottled up in reserve for this
and when finally the blossoms come.
We’ll fall elated – reverently dumb.
©TheHairyTeacher2014
Doubt
I have been here before –
falling somewhere between desperation and reason.
I have even tried to justify my every step:
“no need, unless you know you’re wrong”
and so, yes, the voice doth preach,
and the ears will recoil,
for I am not about to listen.
Remember this –
I’ll only learn in this state
If it’s not guilt or some other fanciful delight you speak of.
I am the product of other people’s tyrannies.
I have, for too long, stood in the shadow of other people’s choices –
I am suffused to doubt
and bolstered up to clarify
that ne’er again will there be
that ne’er again for me, at least,
No surrender –
No surrender –
at least as long as I can see the boundaries.
The risk then less
I shall bravado fly
till truth be told.
I’ll fear again
The honest murmurings
of doubt
and place the ‘tough guy’ in the box –
the redundant hologram
it’s what I am
or would be
If I had to be
but I’ve invested too much
in believing
that it’s not
all as bad as that,
and that, if I choose,
I can contribute to this better world.
I will become the sum total
of fear, subservience, doubt, cowardice et al,
till it is further understood
I’m here for me
at first
I’m here to live,
not die.
I have questions –
beyond gravity –
which interest me.
I’m more concerned
and yet…
And then this doubt –
It is my life!
©TheHairyTeacher2014