BURA’S BLURB
MAY 2012
HELLO AMIGOS!!!
I don’t know whether this piece below is the truth or that it makes any sort of sense but I FEEL that it does. Well at least part of the truth. I am not the kind of person that dictates the truth, only what I gently feel it to be. As I have always said: ‘Truth never changes it’s only our conception of truth that changes!’ Perhaps I will see things differently in a decade or two – or even a month or so! Oh and I’m not trying to convey some sort of message here, just in case you were thinking! However, do me a small favour: read it not as an intellectual exercise – for I am NOT an intellectual, nor pretend to be – but read it as it is, as one would read, say, a poem!
UNDER YOUR VERY NOSES
It may be that tears are counted by all the moons that exist or future moons come to that - or so the poets say - in all their grandeur and light, or counted by the REGULAR spin of each planet born of light and darkness on the palate and spectrum of the creator Gods!
For this mighty machine - in physicality - which I call the Universe with its Divine Mechanic (God, All-That-Is, etc.) encloses ALL things (untold universes even). Contains ALL life, and ALL life is a speck of dust in its seeming complexity, its perfection, its (seeming) cruelty.
Inharmonious corruption of the spirit is merely an echo, a reflection, of All That Is. (Nodding off yet? By the time you finish this piece you will be – or maybe you’ll understand!)
In the beginning was the outward breath, born in a millisecond, and in its infancy lay truth. That truth can be found in a grain of silicon sand! It is up to us, however, to find it! Yet all must die, even our beloved sun! But die in-as-much as a ‘new beginning’ is born: whether a black hole or a corridor to a greater reality. (The God in you knows where!) The sacred mechanics of everything (Creator Gods) lead the way! Truth is Love and blazes like a million suns if you look in the right place of your individual soul! In the end Love is all you need to know. Man/womankind will always strive for something else, and rightly so, for it is the way of things.
But curiosity is the one thing that human beings possess in abundance!
Human Beings and all that live and breathe (even the smallest dust mote of matter on this planet - on every planet - breathes) have a DNA structure or double helix and every DNA complex is different. This Planet is a minute speck in a vast whirling DNA structure called the Milky Way and this galaxy of stars is spread out over countless millions of galaxies and ever growing; a kind of vast spinning-machine (in physicality) throwing its webbed arms far out in space. This makes up a tiny fraction of galaxies all set in motion in a 100th of a second by the Big Bang. This explosion of all matter is called the outward breath. The creator cannot continually breathe OUT. It (God) has to breathe IN again, gently sucking in all the nutrients of gathered wisdom and gained knowledge and accumulated love. Nothing is rejected.
Look to this glorious journey and the Now of it! You the children of the gods and those that have already walked this path: blown out in the fragments of yet another Big Bang and another and another. You see, in physicality we ALWAYS measure time - in a timeless existence. At least it’s a start, until the dawning of new knowledge, timeless knowledge, where we walk in the footprints of those that have gone before, whose realisation is but a breath away!
(STILL AWAKE?)
*******
DEATH BY CHOCOLATE CAKE-CAKE! A monstrously gorgeous, moistly moreish, wonderful chocolate cake. From beginning to end it should take you no more than 15-20 minutes to prepare and cook!
DEATH BY A FIVE MINUTE CHOCOLATE CAKE
(Stronger chocolate version)
INGREDIENTS
1. Four ounces of plain cooking chocolate
2. Four ounces of plain flour
3. One level teaspoon of baking powder
4. Six ounces of butter or Clover
5. Four fluid ounces of evaporated milk
6. Four level dessertspoons of cocoa
7. Two large eggs
8. Four ounces of dark Muscavado sugar
9. Four teaspoon of Black Sugar/treacle (Molasses)
METHOD
Place the chocolate in a glass or china bowl then in microwave and carefully watch it melt (should take just over a minute). Directly chocolate has melted take out of microwave, add the butter and let it cool for a couple of minutes (This should soften up the butter). Then add evaporated milk. Add the flour and the baking powder and give a stir. Then add the rest of ingredients and give the mixture a thorough mix. Pour the contents in a well-buttered and lightly floured plastic or glass baking cake thingy and put it in the microwave for 5 minutes! (Depending on strength of your microwave oven)
Now we wait and see what happens. Cook for 5 minutes and try the knife test: pierce the cake with a knife and if mixture still clings to the knife give it an extra minute or so!
Put aside and let it cool. This is where your powers of pure greed and patience come into play! ENJOY!
________________________
POEM TIME:
RETIREMENT
Jack retired today:
The lads had a whip-round
And the firm gave him a clock
To tick away what remained
Of his life: elegantly inscribed, mind,
Even if they did spell his name wrong.
The managing director made a speech.
He didn’t get the name wrong,
He forgot it all together:
A whisper in a reddened ear, the clearing
Of a nervous throat; what did it matter?
A toast.
A round of applause.
Slaps on the back.
“Lucky old Jack.”
Fifty years: man and boy.
Fifty years: a wife, two sons.
Fifty years: a council house.
Fifty years: a steel worker.
Fifty years: walked three miles there, three miles back.
Fifty years: off work only once, with ‘flu.
The last walk home.
Jack could do it blindfold.
Fifty years of shoe-leather
Lay in the dust along the lane:
Fifty bloody years!
There in front of him, a sign:
“KEEP CLEAR. TREE UNSAFE!”
A group of men with
Ropes and axes
Stood underneath a huge elm tree:
“I never noticed
That tree before,” thought Jack.
Come to think of it
He didn’t recognise anything!
Oh, it was the same lane,
The road to and from work,
But somehow different.
The elm tree was so big, so beautiful –
Why hadn’t he seen it before?
Those wild flowers near the hedge…beautiful!
The ropes stretched,
The winch gathered strength.
The elm tree groaned!
Jack stood stock still, eyes wide,
His gifted clock clutched to his side:
He had no ears or eyes for time now.
The huge elm tree groaned.
“Keep clear, old man!”
“Old man?” thought Jack.
“Am I old now? Does it show?”
Jack looked up at the tree,
His mind screaming:
“I never got to know you, Tree;
It has taken my whole life to see you!”
The tree lurched and groaned!
Jack showed the clock to his wife.
He never told her about the tree, mind,
She would never have understood.
Had he really understood?
How could a tree talk?
But he had heard it, quite distinctly,
Almost like a violin, it said:
“But I have seen you, Jack,
We retire today, you and I!”
First broadcast on BBC Radio 4
ADIOS AMIGOS
UNTIL NEXT MONTH!
PAUL BURA
*****
BURA’S BLURB
APRIL 2012
HELLO AMIGOS!!
*******
Silence: All sound is contained within its walls! ‘The Great Om’ that was sounded at the beginning of ALL time, as we know it (The Big Bang), created within each atom, all that is, with that single, solitary syllable!
The Seven Prime Colours: are mixed on an artist’s pallet, are then moved about and mixed on the canvas of 3 Dimensional life. But the colour spectrum of the 4th and 5th dimensions - and beyond - will blow your mind and are beautiful beyond description!
Truth: until we can truly love the truth will surely evade us. For love is the all of it, without love there is nothing!
*******
The Fish and Chip Wagon and My Father
[Excerp taken from: THE LITTLE RESTAURANT ON THE PROM]
I was six. My father used to drive the mobile Fish and Chip wagon to Reculver about three times a week. Reculver and its Towers (Reculver Towers) were the ancient ruins of a church. Long before I was born the Towers sported splendid pointed spires. But they are long gone now, only depicted in old photographs. They were considered dangerous and they had to be pulled down. A Roman `Dig` remained on the site for years after. The Towers stood out like a huge `H` from the viewpoint of Herne Bay’s promenade, a huge letter `H`.
Not only did my father run the biggest fish restaurant on the South Coast but he also ran a mobile Fish and Chip wagon. I used to go out with my father in the Fish and Chip Wagon during the day and ring the bell, so the people would know we were frying. Up and down the streets of Herne Bay we would go. But this was during the day. The Reculver run was in the evening. I so wanted to go with my dad during the evening.
The evenings were full of magic. The shadows would curl about me warm and safe. So I hid in the van, all comfy and cosy, whilst my father, unknowingly, drove us to Reculver. When we arrived and my father discovered me, he didn’t know whether to be angry or not. I took him completely by surprise. He accepted the fact that: ''Now yer here, son, you can ring the bell...and keep me company!'' I melted into the warm night like velvet. Ate fish and chips and played the arcade machines. Yes, I even got a couple of coppers (pennies) for my pains.
The sights and smells were so much more delightful after dark, and the fish and chips? I have never tasted cod like you could buy in those far off days: thick, chunky fillets that had a milky, sweet taste, fried in a batter so thin and crisp that you broke through it like a yielding, shattering, crust. The secret? Ah, the secret of this was to flour the fillet first, then immerse it in batter, not too thick and not too thin. Slap it, first one way and then the other, on the side of the bowl, so catching the excess batter. Then slide the fish into the slightly smoking peanut oil.
We also sold cockles, whelks, and mussels and jellied eels, too. We sold crab and lobster, all prepared by my father and mother, their meat tasting like the sea itself, though without the salt: the sea could not reproduce its salty self in these creatures, they gave forth only sweetness.
I drowned that night in warm, soft breezes. I moved through the dream-like, shadowy night like a soft, velvet pulse. I was safe and warm with my daddy, safe and warm in his strength. Never mind that he took us children, unbeknown to my mother (whose waitress-tips for the season she had saved in our separate postal accounts) to the post office: lifted us up onto the counter to sign our names. Then on to a bookie, where horses ran our cash into the ground! Oh yes, my father was a giant in those far off days. But he became a fallen Goliath, felled by one single stone. My mother. My father developed a stomach ulcer. His worrying of bills not paid saw to that, his worrying and addiction to all things good and fine. If he wanted a new suit then he would go out and be measured for one. If he wanted the finest fillet steak, not forgetting to put it (and the suit) on tick, then he would bring it home and cook it with onions. We didn't have steak. Only once in a blue moon.
My dad was addicted to gambling in all its various forms: the dogs, the horses, card games that went on far into the night, the smell of cigars and the chink of money coming up from the front room, the occasional laughter. Farmers, dairymen, restaurant owners, all would indulge in the game of poker and all were subtly 'ripped off' by my father's cheating. Their cards were ‘marked’ alright, in all probability right from the beginning of their games together. He did it, not for the money (though he could do with it), but to feed his ego. Joe Bura lose? That would never do.
Each winter was the same. My father lived far beyond his means. My mother was the complete opposite. My father craved the good life and spent money like a man possessed with wealth that he never owned. My mother would make us clothes out of remnants of cast-offs. We were not poor but our father made us so. Always the bank was on his back. He never learned to live within his means. He couldn't do it. His father was a professional gambler who died in poverty. All his brothers: Nanky (Arron), Louie (Laborvitch), Barney (Barnet, Buck), Maxie (Maximillian), Jackie (Jacob), all, ALL, were touched by the shadow of gambling, all perhaps with the exception of Barney who became the success story of them all: Bura and Hardwick Animations. For the BBC he and his partner made Trumpton, Camberwick Green and many others. I cannot say whether my father’s sisters: Faye, Betty, Patsy, or Doris were affected by this disease or addiction, but I think not!
The one person who remained focused and strong throughout was my mother, my mother whose strength was truly amazing. But she didn’t realise how strong she was! It is always the females (mostly), the mothers whose strength is incredible. My beautiful, caring, no nonsense, mother was not aware of being strong, but my mother, our mumma, truly was… amazing, amazing, amazing! Our mumma divorced my father for having an affair with my mother’s best friend! She had had enough!
*******
POEM TIME:
MY SISTER’S EAR
Amidst the smell
Of fish and chips
Born on the wind
Of fried onions
Travelling up the stairs
Where my sister and I
Shared a bed of shadows.
My parents laboured long and deep
With the clatter of cutlery against dish
Piled high with fried fish.
I was afraid of ghosts
That in my child-mind
Would come and get me!
I asked my elder sister
If she would hold my hand
Whilst I braved the toilet.
She refused.
I threatened to
‘Wee in her ear’
If she didn’t!
Still she refused.
I took careful aim…
And fired!
She leapt from the bed
As though scalded
And screamed all the way
Down the stairs,
Clutching her wet ear.
Heavy feet thundered up the stairs.
All thought of ghosts had vanished!
I now regretted my action.
My sister’s ear was soon dry.
Mine stung for days!
ADIOS AMIGOS!!!
UNTIL NEXT MONTH…
Luv n’ lite n’ laughter
Paul Bura
BURA’S BLURB
MARCH 2012
HELLO AMIGOS!!!
Dowsing is a useful tool when studying the spiritual arts and all you need is a pendulum. Any shop that sells crystals and the like will sell you a perfectly balanced one. But meanwhile you can practice using a mettle nut to which you attach a piece of string….
Also here is my personal recipe for CHILLI FISH SOUP. As I have my ‘main carer,’ Rachel, to look after me I have to create a dish that she can literally throw together (Incidentally, Rachel’s eggs, whether fried, scrambled, poached or just an omelette [light and fluffy] are perfection!) so that is why I have added a further recipe for MICROWAVE FRUIT AND NUT CAKE. This cake takes about four or five minutes to mix and ‘five minutes’ in the microwave and is FANTASTIC! As Rachel only has 30 minutes to prepare lunch this is an ideal cake, and the CHILLI FISH SOUP for starters which she can just heat up on top of the stove (She practically knows this recipe by heart). For those of you who think I’m just a vegetarian: I’m a Fishetarian!
CREATING BALANCE ‘WITHIN’ USING YOUR PENDULUM
Hold your pendulum over the palm of your hand (either right or left, depending on which hand you hold the pendulum). Swing the pendulum too and fro (oscillation). Ask the pendulum to create ‘balance’ within yourself by stating either out loud or to yourself: “BALANCE, BALANCE, BALANCE, PLEASE!” Then wait for it to make a circle. When it has finished rotating (This can take as long or as short as the pendulum dictates!) it will again oscillate. Then it will start to swing in the opposite direction. This swing will last only a short while and then it will again oscillate.
You have now established BALANCE!
ESTABLISHING THE ‘YES’ AND ‘NO’
Your pendulum will swing either clockwise or counter clockwise for the YES and NO - every body is different. To establish your YES or NO my personal preference is to ask the pendulum whether my mother loves me (it is a rarity that your mother doesn’t love you, so choose a person that does, either living or dead!) Be sure to pose the opposite question: “Does my mother hate me? ”This will satisfy you of the accuracy of your pendulum. However, if your pendulum gives a negative response to the question (oscillates) then balance yourself again!
Then you are ready! Every time you use your pendulum make sure you go through the above ritual!
The more you use the pendulum the more accurate and sensitive you become. It’s like a psychic ‘workout’. Use the pendulum when you are not certain about what foodstuffs are likely to upset you or make you ill. If you keep chickens this tool is ideal for sexing your eggs (which is male and which is female). Take it shopping when you are not sure of the freshness of the produce, whether it’s meat, fish or veggies.
If the pendulum oscillates (swings back and forward) then it is recommended that you ‘balance’ yourself and try again. In time the thought will become ‘stronger’ in you and more refined. Practice makes perfect.
DOWSING USING THE L RODS,
Start by making a pair of L-rods. The ideal material is a couple of wire coat hangers. Cut the hooks off either side of the ‘hook’ with a pair of pliers. Straighten out what is left and you are left with a piece of wire just over two feet or so in length. You need two coat hangers (as already described) for this, one for each hand. Bend each end about 5 inches up the wire until you have what resembles an L shape. Now you are ready to dowse.
Clutch each wire ‘handle’ lightly, one in each hand (do NOT grip the handles tightly) and point your L rods away from you.
I suggest that you begin in any pre-reformation Church (15th century). Ask permission – if necessary - first.
Walk slowly the entire length of the Church’s alter with your dowsing rods pointing out in front of you. Remember walk SLOWLY, don’t rush it, and HOLD IN YOUR MIND the question: I am looking for an ENERGY LINE, I am looking for an ENERGY LINE! Then relax and empty your mind.
At some point you will feel the rods begin to cross. It could be in the middle of the altar or at the far end of the altar. But they WILL cross. Then you will have discovered your first energy line! Try it and be amazed!
MAP DOWSING
When map dowsing use a pointer of some kind, as long as it’s made of mettle (or wood): a mettle knitting needle for instance. Having balanced yourself out spread the map (Ordnance Survey Map??? Or map of any kind) on the table and having chosen the area (roughly) from which the object, stream, standing stone, or whatever you are trying to find, can be found, draw a grid with a pencil on the map covering the whole of the chosen area marking each square (the grid should be covered in about half inch squares) with a number: 1, 2, 3, 4, etc. Then point the ‘pointer’ at number 1 with your pendulum in your other hand, and work patiently from square to square, number to number. When you get a ‘positive’ response (YES as apposed to NO) then in this square make another (smaller obviously!) grid and with your pointer point to the now smaller squares (number each square again if you have room) until you get another positive response.
When you have travelled to the area or place where you had the positive response, if it’s a field then draw this field on a piece of paper (a rough square with any detail that you can see: pond, mound, rocks etc) and again make a grid and continue with the same procedure as above. If the field – or whatever – has a name then write the name above your newly drawn grid. Whatever you are looking for should be there! Good luck folks!
*******
“I am a trillion, trillion! The stars cannot outrun me for I AM the stars AND the numbers - and they all add up to ONE!” (PB)
*******
I have designed a fruit and nut cake that you may cook in a microwave oven. Nothing remotely spiritual about it but I just LOVE a moist fruit and nut cake – cooks in FIVE MINUTES!!! But first:
CHILLI FISH SOUP
INGREDIENTS
- Teaspoonful and a half of garlic powder
- Two heaped teaspoon of vegetable powder (Marigold’s Bouillon powder) or two veggie stock cubes.
- Level teaspoon of dried chilli (halve this if you don’t want it too hot. Try a quarter teaspoon first)
- One tin chopped Tomato
- One tin of chick peas
- One tin tuna in brine
- One jar of mussels (drained and rinsed of the vinegar). If you don’t care for mussels leave them out and add extra prawns.
- Just over half a cup of frozen cooked prawns (preferably raw)
- Just over half a cup frozen peas
- One teaspoonful of mixed herbs
- One dessertspoonful of tomato puree
- 4-5 squirts of fish sauce
METHOD
Empty tin of chopped tomato into saucepan. Add 2 heaped teaspoonful of vegetable powder and heaped teaspoon and a half of garlic powder. Bring to boil and simmer and add mixed herbs. Add tom puree and stir in. Add tin of chickpeas plus juice to mixture. Bring to boil again. Add 4-5 squirts of fish sauce and the frozen peas and the prawns (raw preferably). Bring to boil and simmer for five minutes. Then add tuna AND the juice, ALSO the mussels (if the mussels are in vinegar REMEMBER to pour vinegar off and rinse), and just bring to boil, take off heat and serve!
Serves two with a mighty bowlful. Serve with very crunchy garlic croutons.
[If you are just serving yourself I suggest you cool and freeze the rest of the soup and at another time let it thaw and then add a dessert-spoonful of extra tom puree and some olive oil (Extra virgin, about two or three dessertspoons), heat and serve on a pile of spaghetti with lots of parmesan cheese! WOW!]
AND NOW FOR MY FAMOUS MICROWAVE FRUIT AND NUT CAKE:
MICROWAVE FRUIT CAKE INGREDIENTS
- Two large eggs
- Three ounces of mixed fruit (and peel?)
- Three ounces of dark muscavado (or light) sugar
- Two fluid ounces of evaporated milk
- One level teaspoon of mixed spice
- One level dessertspoon of cocoa
- Two ounces of chopped mixed nuts
- A level teaspoon of baking powder
- Three ounces of plain flour
- Four ounces of butter/Clover/or sunflower oil: butter is best
METHOD
Add ALL the above ingredients in a mixing bowl and mix well. Lightly oil a medium size PLASTIC or china cake (perhaps lightly flour the inside as well?) vessel and pour in ingredients. Smooth down ingredients. Then put in microwave oven for 5 minutes.
When the cake is cooked put aside to cool!
POEM:
MODERN MASTER
The young devotee
Walked slowly
In silent meditation
Toward his master’s ashram.
He stood before
The master
And bowed his respect.
Then assuming
The full lotus position
He faced the master:
(Also in full lotus position)
“Master, how can I find union with the One?
Master, how can I access my charkas?
Master, how can I raise my consciousness?
Master, how can I find harmony with my fellows?
Master, how can I follow in your footsteps?
Master, how…”
The master raised his hand for silence.
He turned his full gaze upon his pupil
And with eyes shining he said:
“Get off my case
And get a life!”
The young devotee,
Eyes wide as saucers,
Paused. Then he said:
“Master, how do I do that?”
The master took a mobile phone
Out of his robe
And dialled his analyst.
ADIOS AMIGOS!!!
UNTIL NEXT MONTH.
Paul Bura
*****
BURA’S BLURB
FEBURARY 2012
HELLO AMIGOES!!!
KOOT HOOMI SPEAKS:
I bring greetings to you all.
I would speak about the coming 2012. Also I would speak about the crop circles.
This is a global phenomenon. But we are lucky in this country (UK) that most of these crop circles are up here in the South West some of them in the South, which this man [Paul Bura] has witnessed. Also they are created by the Earth (mother) and of course the people that are outside of the Earth. You call them aliens.
There will appear all over the Earth crop circles, more crop circles than ever before. Some will be simple diagrams in the grass, corn and the wheat, some more complicated and very technical and beautiful. There is an on-going theme within all of these.
This earth is going through vast upheavals: be it financial - to do with commerce - and political, a vast struggle with the negative forces. These negative forces will fight to the last and will have their so-called ‘Armageddon’, their ‘last stand’. But they will fail! This ‘last stand’ will be spread out over many years but ultimately - will fail! Also the weather changes, volcanic activity, and the millions who are starving in Africa, all of this and more this man’s guide and mentor, Joeb, had predicted 25 to 30 years ago. This will continue and if at last their scientists will accept the phenomena of the crop circles there are those coming who can interpret these crop circles: scientists and academics, also the ‘Indigo people’ and their familiarity with these on a Global theme. This is all I can tell you – for now!
For these circles represent the earth’s conditions. They are all linked. Power lines [Courier Lines] link them. But of course there are those that are hoaxes, very many, a third perhaps. But 2012 will be not typical but a vast flowering of the great minds. I do not mean great religious minds but simple philosophical minds that will come together. Are you understanding?
I think I will go now.
(GROUP: ‘Thank you’ ‘Thank you’!)
I was not able to create the energy that I wished to create through this man. But he will have his day! Thank you and may the God that you all worship and the gods that you do NOT worship: He embraces you ALL…ALL. Thank you.
LORD KOOT HOOMI 3/11/2011
[Paul Bura]
*******
THE SPINAL JACKET SAGA: THE SEQUEL
The ambulance men arrived once again and this time I POINTED to the ‘spinal jacket’ so that when they had put me in the wheelchair (put on coat etc) they would not forget it!
When I was all strapped in the ambulance I said to the guys: "Hope you've got my spinal jacket aboard?" They looked at one another and the face of REALISATION formed! THEY HAD FORGOTTEN IT!!! Just as I had forgotten it all those weeks before!
So I gave them the house keys and the guy went and got it!!! IT NEARLY HAPPENED AGAIN!
When I arrived at the hospital the specialist bloke was waiting for me! 'Oh goody,' I thought! 'No waiting!'
I just happened to mention that I had written out the instructions - on my previous visit - as to what to do to the spinal jacket. 'Oh good', said the specialist, 'I'll just copy it out from YOUR copy and check that I've got it all correct with you, if that’s okay?' 'You mean that it wasn't necessary for me to come in at all, then?' I exclaimed. 'No, not really, if you had already written out the instructions! After all YOU are the expert (I'd already said this to him that I was an expert on this type of spinal jacket having worn the thing since before he was born!). “As far as we are concerned this type of brace came out of the ark and if you had already written out the instructions...'
I interrupted at this point. 'The manager of this department said that I HAD to come and see you whether I had written instructions or not!' He was clearly at a loss and kept looking at his notes but apologized for any inconvenience. 'Now when the jacket is finished can my sister just pick it up? I mean do I have to come in again to this department?' 'Good lord no: you just get someone to pick it up from here! I will put it in your notes now!' He scribbled something to that effect in my notes!' 'There,' he said, 'all done and dusted!' And they wheeled me out!
The attractive blond receptionist – who I now knew to be Stacy – was still out of reach and shouting distance so I called a nurse over! I explained that I wanted to speak to Stacy! “What do you want to speak to her about?” said the nurse. “I’d rather not say,” I said politely, “if it’s all the same to you!” The nurse wheeled me over to a window where we could not be overheard. “I’ve just published on my website THE SPINAL JACKET SAGA,” I said to Stacy, “I don’t expect you to remember but you called Sue who is in charge of this department and Sue came to sort it out and I thought it only right that you – if you care to – have a read of the piece as I mention you in it!” I handed over my website address. “Oh, thank you very much!” She had that faraway look that smacked of: WHO IS THIS IDIOT, ANYWAY? But she smiled – she had a GREAT smile – and took it! “I take it that your computer is on line?” (Of course it is, you twat, I said to myself, fancy asking her that!). She nodded and gave me one last - weaker this time - smile. The nurse wheeled me back. A porter eventually arrived and I was whisked away to the Departure Lounge to await my ambulance!
On my way out of Margate I noticed that a certain fish and chip shop sold Haddock and Chips for £2.50! £2.50??? They cost over ‘FIVE SMACKEROONIES’ in Herne Bay. What a rip-off, I thought, what a bloody rip-off! The ambulance man seemed to sense my agitation! “We’ve not forgotten anything this time, have we, Mr Bura?” “No-no,” I muttered, “I was just complaining about the price of fish!” The ambulance man just shrugged: “What a twat,” he must have thought, “What a twat!”
POEM TIME!
THE PASSING OF LADY CHARITY
(For Carol who died of cancer, aged 31)
‘I look like something out of Belsen’
She said over the phone, ‘but I’d like to see you.’
‘I’ve never seen anyone from Belsen’ I said,
‘And I’d like to see you too.’
Nothing sick about it.
The bond was made.
I watched you go
Like a flower withering,
The petals turning grey and falling.
‘What will it be like where I’m going?’
‘It will be like eternal Spring but more beautiful.’
She gained strength again
And spoke of her little miracle:
How she would stay home
And look after her mother,
Work in the hospital,
Devote the rest of her life to people.
From what I had heard she had already
Done her fair share.
‘You know what?’
‘What?’
‘A friend of mine had her beautiful, long hair
Hacked off by a jealous lover.
She nearly went insane. Know what I did?’
‘No, tell me.’
‘I stood in front of her and cut
All the hair from my head, I told her:
That’s how bloody important it is!’
The pain was so bad now
That a concoction of gin, heroin, cocaine
And morphine was prepared to keep it at bay.
She still screamed every morning, screamed
That she may die, that this cup be passed from her.
In her helplessness her mother cried out:
‘God, why are you torturing my child?’
Through her pain and tears she replied:
‘It is not God, mother, it is NOT God!’
Her place of work was down amongst the people.
She lived and died for people and what
She could learn from them.
I heard that she kissed
A filthy old tramp once
Because nobody else cared;
I bet his face still burns.
‘I was on the game for seven years.’
‘Bet you got sick of sex.’
‘Yes, but never the people, sometimes we’d
Just sit and talk and put a few shattered
Lives back together. Is that so bad?’
She wrote beautiful poetry too
And it pleased me that she liked mine.
People nicknamed her Charity
Because she gave so much away:
When she died a light in the world went out
But now shines like a million suns
And you don’t need to shield your eyes to look at her!
ADIOS AMIGOES!!!!
LUV N’ LITE N’ LARFTER
Paul Bura
*****
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WHAT'SNEW!
"The most brilliant and comprehensive collection of poems in this poet's repertoire to date. From his poem 'JEW', a powerful and moving piece, to his narrative poem 'REVENGE'. But worry not, folks, his brilliant humour is alive and very firmly intact and is here in abundance!"
RU ELLIOT, poet and storyteller.
Pause for Poetry
I started my Pause for Poetry series about two weeks after I started blogging. That was a year ago. The first P for P was kicked off by a wonderful poet and friend of mine, Paul Bura, who has been writing poems for centuries, perhaps even longer.
He has published about 10 anthologies of poems as well as a novel and a thought-provoking book about crop circles.
His latest anthology of poems hot off the press is The Red Kite. If you know and love Paul’s poetry then you’ll love this book. If you’re new to his work then you’ll also love this; and then you will want to seek out his previous tomes.
Spike Milligan was a fan and wrote:
“Paul Bura is a straight down-the-line poet. He is sensitive and emotional, a journalistic poet with a good sense of imagery”.
In a foreword to an earlier anthology, Brand New, I wrote:
“And yet he is more than just a journalistic poet, although he himself writes that he strives to be “just a poet”. His talent lies in his deceptively simple style that lures us so effortlessly into his world. He leads us down paths we never imagined existed; he can also take us down well-trodden paths we know and make us see them anew. Knowing Paul, he would probably add he sometimes leads us up the garden path as well . . . He’s a poet who cares . . . Just another poet? I don’t think so.”
Christy Brown enthused:
“I laughed out loud in my midnight room at some of his tough, witty descriptions of childhood, smiled sadly at his love encounters, and groaned when he struck a certain all too responsive chord within myself. He has a voice that would make Dylan Thomas growl in his grave with envy”.
Ian Dury said:
“This geezer says it the way it is”.
But don’t just read our words about this unique poet – go buy his books and find out for yourself!
JULIAN YOUNG Paris, France.
Julian Young is an editor for The International Herald Tribune.
Price: £5.95 [more] [order]
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PETER CHISHOLM
"THE LEMON TREE"
by
Paul Bura
"The Lemon Tree is extremely moving"
- Leslie Toll ( DAILY MAIL)
"This is a gentle book filled with love, laughter, great sorrow and greater joy and beauty, of gifts given and those remembered and put into use again, of power and helplessness. It's a story of love both temporal and spiritual, joining both worlds and all worlds reminding us that our "reality" encompasses far more than we can possibly imagine, for if we could we would be living a life far different than most of us now do. Tucked in the centre of this tale is a friendship reminiscent of Carlos and Don Juan, tales of power and oneness, challenge and courage. Filled with devotion and adventure, this book is a must read for it flowed through me so gently and with such love as is rarely seen in print today filling the nooks and crannies of my soul with healing grace, and I wish this for everyone."
- Carol Crow (BLACK SHEEP magazine, U.S.A)
Price: £8.25 [more] [order]
NEW!
EARTH MAINTENANCE MEDITATION
NEW!
READ PAUL'S BOOK
THE LITTLE RESTAURANT ON THE PROM
FREE !! ONLINE
ALSO
THE INCREDIBLE SCRUMMY BOOK OF VEGGIE SOUPS!
NEW!
THE CHRISTY BROWN LETTERS
NEW!
PSYCHICAL TALES ABOUT THE TITANIC
E Mail
paul@paulbura.co.uk
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THE FLUTE PLAYER
(True Account)
The noose lay around the prisoners' neck,
Mind racing ahead of the crime on his shoulders,
Of the crazed young drug-head - and musician - that he was;
Soon it would be over, this physical flame fluffed out!
His religion taught
Of hell's torment for all eternity:
But he also knew of: "the prisoners' last request!"
In that moment of clarity he called for his flute!
The hangman's eyes widened,
The prisoners request was respected.
This magical friend in time of great need
Whose music would accompany him, sustain him
Even unto hell itself.
He was calm now as he bent his head
Putting the flute to his lips;
He drew in his breath,
Paused
Then gently blew such beauty out onto the calm, clear air,
And into the ethers; it soared above and around the ears
Of all that heard, prisoners and prison warders alike,
Beauty of such clarity, such sweetness that it scattered all before it:
Above his head and out of the little room
Where he stood on the scaffold
The noose still around his neck
As he dipped his head forward
To play his flute!
It melted the hearts of the parents
Whose son this drug crazed flute player had killed!
And when the music was at an end,
When the silence roared,
Then the tears came.
They - the parents - had a change of heart
And pardoned him, this young flute player,
As was their right in that far eastern country of Iran,
As was their right to do so!
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FROM THE PENDRAGON
I grew up as an only - but not lonely - child in a small market town wedged between the bustling metropolis of Manchester, and the lonely windswept Pennine moors. Left to my own devices, I was comfortable with my own company, with countless hours spent alone in the backyard of the small terraced house I called home. It wasn't until I coded "Little Restaurant" that I realised just what I had missed being part of a family of children, playing together, and getting involved in scrapes as kids do. I was a small, weak child, and was inevitably bullied on a daily basis by my peers. What I wouldn't have given to have had an elder brother like Paul to fight my battles for me and defend me, as Josie and Mel did.
And that is just what Paul has become to me - an elder brother, an inspiration, someone who'll listen - and despite what he has written, knows exactly what to say. What are words anyway - as "Conversations With God" says "words are the most ineffective form of communication" - "feelings are the language of the soul". But in the hands and the mind of a skilled wordsmith like Paul, feelings and words become as one
What if there is a breakdown of communication between the mind, and the hands that drive the keyboard, or wield the pen ? Spend a few minutes in Paul's presence, and words almost become superfluous. God gives each of us a talent, and it is my pleasure and privilege to use the talents I have been given, to make it possible for Paul's work to reach across the globe to touch the hearts and minds of thousands of people.
Paul, your arms may be getting weaker, but you have the heart and courage of a lion, and an infinite capacity to love. You are the big brother I never had, the big brother I never knew I needed until I met you. Just wanted to let you know. I love you bro
We all need a lift from time to time, so if your life has been better for having met Paul, or read his work, - as mine has - why not drop Paul a mail and let him know - The Pendragon |
