Translating My Head

I don't always write with a specific feeling or emotion in mind, and this poem is one of the results of one of those times. I feel that every time I reread it I find a different meaning in it, sometimes completely different to the last time. I hope that others will be able to find their own meanings and interpretations, instead of me giving you my own.
This piece is compiled out of many Latin proverbs, and I'm in two minds as to post my version containing Latin or the complete English one; so I have decided to post the Latin one, so you can either ask me for the translation if you want it, or do some Latin proverb research yourselves. I find it hugely inspiring, this ancient civilization with so many ideas and, in some cases, better ways of life. Times change, but thoughts remain.

Translating What Exists

Tempus fugit

But  veni, vidi, vici

Yet still ambulatio  memoranda,

 As luctor et emergo and Non omnis moriar

For amat victoria curam

(Although damnant quod non intelligunt)

 - But I know that cogito, ergo sum.

I'm not sure if benneficium accipere libertatem est vendere

Or whether castiget rigendo mores.

That said, I often ask "sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"

I am led to believe that rem nimium benere, in solitudo esse

But instead I know deep down that usus est magister optimus

So culpae poena par esto.

Or, in other words;  noli me vocare, ego ti vocabo.

Weepy Moods

For me, the possibility of a weepy mood is always likely, but like the waves of the sea you never know when you will encounter a particularly rough patch. Sometimes it is easy to sit in a boat and hardly notice the waves unless you consciously  pay attention. At other times there is no escape from choppy conditions. Some people cope, and others feel sickness beyond comparison. 

Sometimes I feel like a boat being rocked, and ultimately, I have no choice where the tides take me. Sometimes it is all too much and a tsunami will destroy me, leaving the rest of my world to pick up the pieces. Its like I'm the insignificant boat, and all around me my world deals with me in different ways. As a boat, I may be one drop in the ocean, but investors in this boat care, whereas others care simply out of boat appreciation, and some others don't give a damn. Some people can't give a damn - they have enough trouble of their own. 

I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I'm always conscious of the actions my moods cause me and others to take, even though as an inexperienced boat, I cannot move the tides. 

But I can learn to negotiate them.

Weepy Moods

For the sea, they

Come and go

 as lapping tides

Influenced by the far yet not unknown

Starting so quickly

Receding slow

Accentuated by the dark

As the distant roaring turns to close moans

And blows boats down

Like the blustery sea breeze

Before waves rise up like a new

Life but the change is not for the good

As soon a tsunami will surge up and appear

to rock the boat so no longer it can float high

As it crashes down with an almighty splash as the sea

Realises its mistakes and tries to repent consuming all around it

Until it recedes sucking  all emotion and wealth from the lowly world

Until there is nothing

All the water has left

But  the tide breaks

heavily yet Alone

 the world stands

still bemused

By events

Beyond

 their control 

My Song

My Song

Shudder, shudder
Buck, buck
Cripple,
tuck,
Muscle lock
*Jaw ticks like a clock*
moan
Groan
Mumble mutter
Spit spat word clutter
Curl tight tight tighter
Push push heavy heave
Lift fall gasp splutter
Tears water dry running
Bolt straight stiff
Running!
Beat beat hit punch push fall,
Crunch crunch.
Exert exert tense
Snap!

("m" "mmM" "M"
"my?"
*rabid nodding*
"b" "B" "Baaaa" "ba" "C" "ccckkkk"
"your back?"
*grateful crying*)

Cripple straight cripple straight
Slowing slowing
*But just keeps going*
Crying silence
Out.

Soliloquy Of The Misunderstood

Soliloquy Of The Misunderstood

(how could it ever not be so?)

Bleeding, growing

Ribs not showing.

Less slow motion

More emotion

But still,

 there's the Commotion.

Banging in my head,

Tears running for the emotions still not put to bed

"It's recovery" they said.

But do I really want that, I questioned as you upped your stealth.

So, they tried to swap you for health -

I tried to keep you for wealth -

But you never do me right

And In the middle of the night

I'm less alone than in the day,

For you run around, come what may,

With your endless chat, still the start of the fray.

"not good enough for that" and "far too fat"

go hand in hand with

"just a brat" and "ruin everything like that".

So, its irregular, not right.

It's neither fight nor flight

This thing that bites and blights,

But shines so bright to guide me home,

But still I can't help but moan,

In a helpless tone,

Water, water every where,

Nor any drop to drink.

        /Think.

Hope

Hope

I want to shout, yell, jump from the rooftops, hilltops, mountaintops. 

I want to pour my emotions out to you like the torrents of a thawing stream.

Listen and you will hear my insides corroding, and they will bloom, raining down on you like a monsoon.

Only others can choose the Golden Hour of expression.

Being hopeful is to dream - but nobody realizes how many dreams are encased within these fragile bones.

Glimmers of hope shine through my ribs like the sun rays - the moment where I stand in the sun, raise my arms and turn around. When a laugh breaks out from my lips in the middle of the staircase. Looking up from the floor, my gaze peeps out from beneath black lashes. Did you miss me? Did you ever/will you ever know me?

Hope is being found in a maze, or finding your way out of a haze. Hope is imagining the greeting you will receive from him when you start to live.

Hope is telling people who you are without fear of rejection. Not necessarily by them.

Hope is Future. Future can be whatever you want it to be... if you break your boundaries. 

Freedom

Freedom

Freedom is a smile, slowly creeping from ear to ear and consuming all your senses, one by one, encompassing them in warmth - a glow of heat and a buzz of joy.

Freedom is the way you can dig your toes into the sand and let the sea breeze rush through the caverns of your willing, open lungs.

Freedom is happiness, but also found in the depths of your despair - the moment where you let go, give in, give over, lose control, set yourself free, break down.

Freedom is not easy; it does not come at the drop of a hat. You work towards it, but when you reach it, it tastes sweeter than the sweetest lychee or the bubbliest pink lemonade. 

Freedom is an achievement, but once you find it, you can always wind your way back to its comforting embrace. 

Foodie's Finds in London - A Little bit of Everywhere

As a welcome break from revision this Easter Holiday, my Father and I spent the traditional day traipsing gleefully around London, poking around in small quirky shops and alleys, while I snapped away contentedly with my camera. A couple of my finds from the other week are places frequented by my Dad and I (and not strictly food related), whereas the other two are places I have been chomping at the bit to try for what seems like eternity.

Books For Cooks 4 Blenheim Crescent, Notting Hill

First stop on our self conducted tour was this beautiful bookshop. If I could have a heaven on earth - a large percentage of it would look like this. Wall to wall, floor to ceiling, tabletop to tabletop; all covered in food writing. Food biographies, food fiction (yes, you heard right), food recipes, food guides.... everything foodie. 

I have to admit that I found the whole experience so overwhelming that I only came away with one book (my new treasure - a Lonely Planet book on Street Food) which jumped out at me from a counter top. I fear that if I had really started to browse in earnest I could have spent the whole day lost in the crisp freshly pressed pages, dithering for evermore. 

Books for Cooks also hosts cookery classes, supper evenings and demonstrations, and has it's own little cafe at the back, where they test recipes from the books on sale. We tried the rhubarb and ginger cake, and although I didn't catch which book it was from, it was one of the most deliciously moist cakes I have ever tasted. That said, I will warn you that cakes come served more like desserts, with a drizzle of chocolate sauce and a scoop of yoghurt on the side. 

Ping Pong Dim Sum, (Carnaby Street)

This wasn't on my original list of possible places for lunch, but we were walking past at lunch time and I had looked at their menu online before, so we decided to give it a go. It was only my second time in a dedicated dim sum restaurant, and it was an altogether nice experience. Dishes arrived as they were ready and were stacked in their baskets on top of eachother, so that we had the pleasure of lifting the empty basket to discover what was underneath. To order you tick the dishes you want on a checklist, and they recommend 4-5 dishes per person. Everything we had tasted fresh and was perfectly cooked, but what I really loved was the size of the ice cream portion I had for dessert - all too often you are faced with a mountain, but I was served a refreshing portion of three "ping pong" sized balls of ice cream; two honey and ginger, and one vanilla.

It was also my Father's first experience of jasmine flowering tea, which he declared looked like an alien.

There are plenty of seats, either around a bar or at private tables, and I thoroughly enjoyed sitting at the window and inspecting busy business men as they dashed past in the ever changing London weather. 

Duant's Bookshop, Marylebone Highstreet 

I love this place, and have returned many years since I first discovered it. I was so exited to arrive that I forgot to take my own pictures! 

Duant's is a travel bookshop - enough said. This is the second percentage of my heaven. 

At the front of the shop is fiction, childrens' books and cookery books. But further back is where the magic happens. At the back of the shop, spanning three levels, the books are organised by country. Travel guides, biographies, fiction and non-fiction books, all organised together by country. This is the perfect way to browse for something new, and I can loose myself for hours. 

The layout of the shop is not it's only selling point. Duant's is also beautiful. A large window lets light into all three levels at the back of the shop, and the colour scheme is relaxing too. 

This is a shop worth visiting, whether you intend to buy anything or not. 

Yours,

The Anxious Foodie <3