Sher_Tenn,

My poem is about any unknown, just as I stated in my preamble.

You state that 'they're pretty much all the same.' How so?

Ancient writings reveal that crucifictions had numerous variations ranging from inverted crucifictions (crucifying upsidedown,)breaking or not of limbs, pre-crucificion beatings or not, stake or cross, tied or nailed, having to drag a 300 lbs. stake to the site or not...I could go on for several paragraphs.

Anyway, I await your further observations with interest.

This prose-poem is NOT about Jesus, but rather about any one of the countless thousands who were routinely ordered to die that way. Every other stanza should be in italics as such are reflections interspersed into the present.


Crux Immissa
the final journey



We were herded like goats along that dark cobbled passage. The weaker ones amongst us encouraged to scurry by the blows and jibes of metal men – tormentors in a hurry.

Yet, time had been taken whilst they made love to our misery: Exercising cudgels and flagrums on flesh contoured... weeping. Their bloody passion scored deep. Whose crimes were really the worst – ours or theirs?

The courtyard of bright light pulled us onward. In the inadequacy of our misery, urine, dirt, and blood, a new play began to unfold: Sunlight, leering faces, and distant crucifixes all danced on the stage of confusion.

I had once watched a carpenter making a cross. Observing how studiously he had arranged matters so as to fashion a short protruding sedile spike from a frail bough: The victim’s tortuous support, and brief respite from death.

Swimming in dust under the weight of timber–loaded pain; blinded by daylight and stinging sweat, hair wrenched out I was dragged upwards, legs long lost of hope. A dog scurried away in terror, but I was not sure whether it was fear or pity I saw locked in its eyes.

How long would I take to die? If too long no doubt I would be skewered off my perch, legs smashed to prevent my attempted return: My executioners, in their majesty, giving full reign to their caprice and sadism.

I stumble forward, frozen in cold horror, full legion in timelessness. I stretch each moment, the now, for ever. This must be a nightmare. Oh God, please let me wake up!

I once heard how, after the fall, the chest reaches towards heaven. Panting, aching for breath as those below gasp in sympathetic expectation. (Those above making ready their judgement). Darkness and suffocation shrouding the victim’s repose. Am I brave enough to end it quickly? Do I really have that much courage?

We pass others along the road, raised low in crucifixion within situ so cruel: Too low to escape sleepless torment, and too low to reach for God and cry for mercy. Frail words of comfort fall on bruised ears, from men not yet lost within their death. I feel that I know them well.

***

c. Wackford, 2016

Vespertine Mission


A homesickness veins deep within each soul: An aching to be somewhere else; through the gateway of the mind’s eye; into the future designs of a limitless horizon. Somewhere familiar within nameless lands, spawned from the seeds of countless lifetimes.

I...
remembered songs...
floating on airs of melodies lingering.
Sung long ago by bees in the joy of
endless summers fierce and peeling,
unshaven by the curl of passing waves,
untouched by axioms of human conscience...

Recalled sliding centuries,
when self-indulgence blossomed
into opulence’s illusion.
Watched the seasons dissolve with men.
Took stock of rivers
empty in their passage.
Observed it all from
deep within my soul’s reserve,
holding loose on a rising tide, and
praying for the cleansing.

Releasing my intent into
the meditation of resolution,
I surrendered to the eternal now:

Plastic melt of borrowed cloak releasing
incarnation’s mask, onto waves of
a swelling tide;
Re-discovering a crystal soul,
standing light... naked... free.
A seductive pulsating beat.
Weightless, yet full of the ventrical
crimson of moment...

Joy absolute... endless... boundless.
Soaking eternity’s silent wisdom into
past, present and future... united.
Blueprint of universe illuminating single
spark of life, all pervasive unconditional love;
all-seeing... all-knowing... everywhere.
Shadows of ignorant circumspection gone.
A microcosm returned to its macrocosm.
Complete at last.

I moved within sounds of universal rapture.
Craved music’s emerging colours.
Devoted lingerings to teachings rich and steady.
Wild with you,
together with you.
Holding your seasons within the heavy shadow
of what previously I thought I saw...

Weaved within a cloud of anti-matter,
moving backwards in time
to the root of my soul.
Turning the elements in their seasons.
Opening a wider consciousness into
the unity of being.
Holding hope within the bosom of eternity’s circle.

Floating within the eidolons of space.
Observing the within entering the without.
Easing the moment in its measure.
Holding silence in the palm of its verse.
Carrying the nucleus of oneness high on its tide.

Velvet vespertine passage into inner space.
Loosing doubts beyond lost innocence.
Intoxicated by faith’s chilled airs.
Counting the moments before womb’s re-entry.

And as I dreamt of sleep...

My cloak coloured solid in dimensions still.
Tailored separate, yet stitched in weave unseen.
Crossing the borders of light to foreign lands.
Familiar places beyond the out of bounds.

Awaking in a thousand places I met old familiar
faces of friends hiding within vales of time,
and multi-layered consciousness.
We joined as one:

Loving, laughing, and gazing at life’s endless facets,
follies and strivings.
Dreaming purposes unimaginable...
distant places...
echoing drums...
voices in the night.

Conscious slide of sleep brought traveller’s escape.
Solid dreams touched and shared before moving on.
Luggage saved from winds of night and day.
Memory fading beyond each teasing veil.

Dreams and prayer forge bridges strong,
to places warmed by rising air.
Where cares are melted in the endless sun,
and time appears not in the Book of Days.

Doors remain open for the dead awake.
Star travellers rest, watch, and learn.
The fires of life burning high,
beyond the open sky.
But illusion’s leap never quite complete.

I joined with crystal atoms,
charged to take me through star gateways
in the clear night sky.
Far beyond astronomers’ dreams,
and yet some more,
to Elysian Fields.
A distant reality reached in a moment.

I fell upon a copy of our triplicate world
floating in timelessness:
Another atom in infinity,
but one of a chain...
chains linked...
chains broken.
Alluring to an illusion of solidarity:

Atoms tied to atoms.
Worlds tied to worlds,
in an endless scheme of mystery,
known only to the gods,
their bankers, and their mortgagees in possession.

I melted down to an amorphous weal...
nurtured and grown within the bosom of fire.
Kindled by a god-source within the flower of
my group soul, during the apotheosis of the Omega.
I became a chela of a finite universe –
an eidolon on an elevated sphere of life.
I floated alone in the swirling mists,
engulfing solid body on the rich native earth
of timelessness.

And then came morning:
A bright wakening, heralding a lapse into unconsciousness.
A wide-eyed sleep – chasing illusions in sand.
Reality’s door closed.
Except to travellers clinging onto timeless unity.

Time and sunshine became one,
within a unifying power of righteousness,
as a new day unfolded in silence.
Destiny’s composure lay strongly serene.
Awesome yet untied.
Candid by the stream of ever flowing life.

I rose before the tide.
Arms stretched wide.
Touching the walls of my life:
Birth far left.
Death far right.
Incarcerated pre-utero within
imagined postcript to life,
and foreplay of death.

Another day of learning.
Watching the tides –
their weightless measure relentlessly pulling my
soul-reserve beyond the call of chaffing folly-
into the season of my being.
Breaking open my time capsule;
releasing rhythmic pollen onto
the sounds of desire.
Every moment loosed to fill life’s empty passage.

I passed through the back of beyond.
Through the beginning of time,
into the annexe of pure thought.
A perfect regime sent to purify
earth’s negative energies.

I entered on the tide of Aquarius,
so as to stimulate the planet to remember
(By dividing nine point star by seven);
I reset the tides,
turned the wind,
and let them go.

I watched snow flakes falling.
Silhouetted against a black sky,
then die.
Free-falling strong again:
Into dawn sunshine.
Into summer new.

A summer of light.
But no winds, trees, birds, or creatures
wandering free.
A summer of dry walls fallen,
but no wall-men.
Only their stones left behind.

In the blue dust my life-camera
recorded the new age as being
the united soul of the living dead,
opening reality’s lost dimensions,
in silence.

Easing beyond the days of the wall men:

I observed my sinking starship,
and saw your battle from my window.
Sensed your desire in the passing clouds.
Heard your cry within the ache of my heart:
The voice of changes dancing beyond
the cravings of imagination.

You had come to unfold secrets to people lost
within their fantasy of knowledge.
But your mission had succumbed to mankind’s
deaf cries of sorrow –
laced as a fishnet through the winds and
held within the turnpike of the clouds.

Loosing empty dreams into tomorrow’s eternity,
you were caressed away to inner worlds.
Discarding the fruit of a harvest lost to earth’s
follies, furrowed deep within fiscal soil.
Yet the foam-twisted wake of your tide
gifted the vision of your fleeting visit and
refreshed the hopes of those wide-eyed in sleep.

I scratched my hopes in leys’ escaping joy,
and joined them to the celestial web.
A message pleading your return.
Through my dark flame your emissary arrived:

A blue soldier.
A soul wrapped in mercurial velvet –
self-assured ultramarine;
weighted beyond the tide of ambition’s twist;
content beyond the incidents of pain;
treading timeless in the knowledge that
eventually all would be well.

Her cascade of truth filled me with light.
Refreshed my senses beyond the seasons of the winds,
behind the scorching of the sun.
Yet before autumn’s chasing embrace.

I held it in my rays:
Spawning her knowledge into the crevices of my soul.
Yet, all the time, knowing that it was more than
mine to keep –
running free, sparkling loose
into man’s season of many days.

You followed in starships.
Opening mysteries carved on earth’s horizon.
Releasing the thoughts of Galactic Masters
into days beyond man’s dreamings.
Wrapping your words in silence.
Seducing us into timelessness.
Dimension doors witnessed as sky travellings -
Introducing lights riding fast... pure.

Falling to solid, to share our holdings.
Easing dense... in and out.
Programmes passing through us into now.
Soaking our reality, controlling our rising.
Paralleling senses.
Rhythmic tones failing to camera the import,
endlessly.

Engines twisting time, probing rudiments.
Curiosities fired with the intercourse of a
shared scorching.
Opening old gateways to a new religion.
Awakening our ignorant circumspection.

You wove lights into the elements.
Entered colours into voids seeking open.
Laced magic into changing seasons,
and breathed living into braziers of fire.

Seeing faces lost within the web of greed’s illusion
(Icing the within from without),
you gave eternal truths to the minds of children.
And to crops seeking sunshine.

Harvesting moments won.
Grieving visions spoiled.
You blessed ideas beyond life’s bark.
Stroking days before the coming
of that known to those seeding ready.

Floating on a changing air.
Charging water encoded before spring.
Shaping the webs of leys’ eternal joy,
you set life’s new destiny in the winds.
Mixed the rains,
and watched eternity twist new.

****

c. Wackford, 2016

Women are attracted to all manner of men, so BE CONFIDENT!

An old one even liked me once and gave me her omnibus ticket. It was clearly love at first sight. I'm sure that you will experience that too.

And, REMEMBER TO SMILE!

Whenever I take absolutely any supplement my heart has palpitations for around twelve hours.

The main reason I won three international titles at age 56 years after returning to a sport after a forty year absence was indeed due to increasing brain power, but not via chemical / nutritional supplements but rather repetitive visualision, self-hypnosis and a few other mind tricks. Yes indeed - exercising and strengthening our most powerful ally.

That and of course a vegan diet, drinking nothing but spring water, and pumping lots of iron! Don't feed one's body corpses and other faeces.

DETAILS:

Ivan Sanders(Longdrive Golf) - LinkedIn, YouTube etc.

I LOVE tumbling verse! It reflects the way we think in shock, when our thought dynamics powerfully staccato.

Growth often has its roots deep within chaos, and our stunned staccato words can be our initial foundation stones - a pathway to a new solid future.

To turn those words into an art form is not always easy as essentially they amount to a curative process.

Of course tumbling verse is used elsewhere, and only the writer ever truly understands their full import.

Healing drifts on a warm wind.

Dear Ms. Bug,

One can plan how to build a vehicle engine - all in the correct stages, but a relationship?

Let me tell you what I do. But please bear in mind that I am rarely conventional!

After each sexual relationship I go to the Sexually Transmitted Diseases Clinic and secure a clearance certificate. It doesn't happen often (as I do not chop and change partners) but when I do it takes the best part of a day and is slightly embarrassing even though it shouldn't be.

Once I have my certificate I feel happy, a little proud, and certainly very keen to hold onto my health!

A sensible person only risks their certificate if truly the right person comes along. It makes one careful and extremely partner choosy.

Once one opts out of the 'I don't care if I give you something nasty' style of living life becomes far easier and safer.

Wackford
X

I is da romantic man. But them gals never buy me chocs. They never heard of gals.' liberation in der boonies.

Sex without love is akin to going to the toilet.

Amazing how many men wished to be used as toilet handles and women as toilet bowls.

Sorry to be crude, but arguably sometimes needs must.

As a child of the 1950s I actually met and knew many people who had been born in the 1800s.

Looking back that surprises me, not least because essentially I asked them nothing! These were people who walked along highways before any motor vehicle ever appeared. Try to imagine such a thing. Amazing! And no film records of their everyday lives exist.

I had a great grandfather who would have known people possibly born as early as 1770. I also asked him nothing except to race me across a meadow. Hardly fair as I was four and he at least eighty four!

My life over again, and with an older head on my shoulders, my questions would have been endless. Not least about romance and courtship. I would not have been surprised to hear (assuming that it was the case) that the majority of both men and women in earlier days were sexual virgins.

My grandmother once told me how in the early 1900s local singles would put on their Sunday best clothes and effectively parade themselves along a couple of roads in town - the men walking on one side of the road and the women on the other side, and if a particular lady caught a gentleman's eye possibly he might cross the road and attempt to strike up a conversation.

Older and wiser I appreciate that almost everything in life, indeed in history, does not progress as straight line positive evolution. Life very often goes in circles, and of course life includes everything including both morality and behaviour.

Well within my memory homosexuality was then illegal as was abortion. Recent times, during my own adult experience, have radically changed both their moral and romantic hue. As morals have had their goal posts moved to a different pitch located many miles away likewise sexual behaviour has changed to match the times.

What then has changed so radically?

There have always been significant numbers of sexually liberated individuals in the West. Those who believe that anything goes. But nevertheless very much in a minority.

Nowadays the numbers of such individuals have massively swelled, so much so that for men at least it has caused a great deal of confusion as to how to treat women during the ritual of courtship.

Very recently I read a female professional Relationship Counsellor advising men how to treat women on dates and not simply to see them as sexual objects. Sounds good, save only that vast numbers of females nowadays see men as exactly that!

Essentially we still have large numbers of ladies believing in old fashioned romance, and likewise a large number who want none of it. How to tell them apart?

Any lady arriving on a first date wearing a ribboned bonnet and carrying a bunch of posies should be assumed to be a lady of high moral virtue. Conversely one appearing in a black leather onesie and carrying a bull whip....well work it out.

So hopefully identification should be easy.

I enjoyed reading this. Well done.

It instantly brought back to mind one of my favourite (favorite) films 'The Horse Whisperer.' A film inter alia about unrequited love.

Having myself (many decades ago) deeply fallen in love with someone else, I remained true to my childhood sweetheart - married her and had two fantastic sons. We remained married for nineteen years.

Triggers happen for a reason, and I was meant to read this poem for a reason. But as yet I know not what.

Men are cruel,
But those who work
are no fool.

Me, I'm jus' lazy.

Sophi


She has a drunken vulnerability,
(Former Persil choirgirl carrying notes to her own funeral),
octane-charged beyond her nineteen years,
and focused green in some far off place.
Cocooned spirit, encased in a life-rust
between the skeletal fog of war zones;
between living alone and real loneliness.

In bloodshot clusters of stained glass
I hear the percussion of imploding cells,
as rain begins to fall from a hopeless sky,
moving like stones over millennia.

And, as you leave the legacy of the sound of your footsteps,
and go to a corner where hearts begin to sweat,
and entrails begin to writhe,
I remember your eyes brightening into mine,
before the needle-tapestry of your days
weaved the sail of your tryst with death.

c. Wackford, 2016

Note: 'Persil' is a U.K. washing powder which once professed to get clothes 'whiter than white!'

Aw...Ladywind - you brought tears to my eyes (seriously). Heartfelt compliments are so rare these days that it takes one aback! I have over six hundred 'channelled' ('channeled' U.S.A.) poems which flowed through me without any thought whatsoever. Some came from my sub-conscious whilst I believe others came from outside sources.

It is difficult to choose one or two as I love them all and feel that as I didn't write them they don't belong to me and thus no credit is deserved.

I love writing but don't want to swamp this forum so I'll simply put up one more poem for the time being. A more earthy channelled poem called 'Sophi.' Originating from my olden days as a counsellor(counselor). Sophi was a nineteen year old drug addict who alas I failed to turn round. She didn't make it.

Something is pressing me to choose that poem. Possibly someone out there needs it? Hopefully to turn their life around.

The site is simply a reflection of the singles' society. But when you see it in your face in black and white it can be disturbing.

Members are predominantly young, i.e. under fifty years, and sexual urge is greater then. I guess that when writing to a stranger (rather than communicating face to face) men are more unreserved. Also, some are using the 'shotgun' approach, namely if one writes fifty sexual letters someone is bound to respond without foreplay.

Arguably whilst society is becoming more sophisticated vis a vis the use of electronics etc. conversely it is becoming far less sophisticated with regards to manners and overall effective communication. The less able communicators bridging their word gaps in sentences by swearing. Few people can spell and punctuate, even most of the teachers who advertise.

Many women's behaviour is just as sexual as men (often more so) and people operate that way because it is quick and effective if you hit the right people i.e. meat seekers.

Obviously it saddens me that when I occasionally write to a lady and ask for her father's permission to walk her out to say an opera I never receive a response.

Ladies' quiescence should persuade me to beg for rumpy pumpy but alas I'm too much of a gentleman, and in any event I prefer to put romance as top of my agenda.

Maybe it's time for some ladies to stop seeking 'toy boys' and perhaps consider an older gentleman with manners and far more sophistication?

Just a thought.

Just looked up what 'MILF' means. Quite disgusting. Humanity appears to have degenerated to behaviour which few other species engage in, and of course created commensurate horrendous disease along with it.

This observation in no way relates to any specific individual and is no more than an observation on behaviour.

Ms. Blue,

So true. The members who have seriously suffered have pulled out most or all of their hair. It's quite easy to recognise who has had a bad time. It was only a matter of time before the science of phrenology was updated with sub-specialisms. It's easy to train yourself by studying hairlines. Give it a try.

Here is a little something I wrote on the subject (not on a dating site) a while back called 'Today's Odd Alternative to Romance.'

********************

TODAY'S ODD ALTERNATIVE TO ROMANCE

There are of course many, but the internet via its countless dating sites and chat lines has single handed created a new phenomenon which as yet appears to be un-named so I will coign the phrase 'romancing ghosts.'

What I refer to are those one meets on dating sites who wish to engage in a long and lasting 'relationship,' or sometimes many short ones, with strangers whom they either fall in love with (or wish to make their correspondent feel such) whilst having absolutely no intention of ever physically meeting their 'partner.' Indeed they will go to great lengths to avoid such ever happening.

Those knowingly engaging in this new pastime are invariably unbalanced (due to various reasons) and it would be wrong to generalise. The internet is becoming littered with articles of complaint concerning such behaviour, but alas the majority of dating site users are unaware of this modern day pastime and generally consider that they have simply been unlucky.

What can be done?

Ideally avoid dating sites, particularly the free ones such as P.O.F. The free sites are the main target for those residing within a fantasy world, but the fee charging sites are far from being immune.

If one is unprepared to give up on internet dating then make it clear from the onset that you have a specified limit on in-house messaging, after which you require more positive evidence of identity perhaps beginning with an e-mail address, followed later by a telephone number.

The fantisisers are usually too lazy to create a Jane / John Doe email address and will simply dig in their heels or run on being requested to provide such. Not all, so do press for a telephone number once you feel that reasonably sufficient preliminaries have been undertaken.

The ultimate preliminary goal is of course to visit the other party's home. A not small number of dating site users are still living with their true partners!

A genuine person should, if interested, be quickly willing to meet you in a public place, perhaps for a coffee. There is rarely any healthy reason for weeks of messaging coupled with refusals to provide any proof of substance.

So, beware!

*****************
Wackford
XXXXX

After spending far too many decades as both a lawyer, voluntary counsellor, and then more recently as a clinical hypnotherapist (now retired from all) I've seen more than my fair share of parties fighting!

Of course there are so many reasons for this, but within this thread what is being considered is fighting between men and women and so I'll simply address that issue:

Again of course there are many reasons which cause a fight to break out. But very often at the root of it is a lack of appreciation by each sex for how the other sex thinks, and equally how they express themselves.

Not surprising that ignorance prevails as very little has ever been written on the subject, and within a world of equal opportunities differences between each sex are often ignored, or worse still denied.

Expressed extremely crudely, and as no more than a sweeping generalisation, men tend to think with their conscious brains in a logical traceable pattern whilst women rely more heavily on their sub-conscious brains and emotional feel in order to deal with any given challenge.

Box sexes are however quite capable of switching thought patterns, and both types of thinking are of great value. It should be borne in mind however that those parties (female and male) who have chosen to think on a sub-conscious basis in order to deal with any particular challenge will find it immensely difficult to support their conclusions with reasoning.

That is not to say that there aren't extremely good reasons, simply that we usually don't know how our sub-conscious has reached any one decision. To label such as being 'instinct' or 'intuition' barely does such though process justice.

Let me give an example which will hopefully make things clearer. Such is one of my many 'LinkedIn' articles published as 'Ivan Sanders.'

**************

In the 1980s I was fortunate to live near to fellow writer Linda. We regularly had countless discussions and friendly arguments and, like most women, Linda considered that she always emerged triumphant.

Eventually I became tired of this, and when discussing an issue which was provable on the basis of logic I haughtily declared "Got you, I've logically proved that I'm right on this occasion!"

To which Linda instantly retorted "What's logic got to do with it I KNOW I'm right!"

At the time I laughed this off as being a joke, but with the passing of several decades and having counselled several thousands of clients (as a lawyer) and patients (as a clinical hypnotherapist) I have at last finally appreciated the different way each sex thinks and why, as a result they often behave entirely differently.

And, more importantly, why cold logic is not always the best way to think. Or perhaps better expressed - why a parallel (arguably intuitive) softer logic may sometimes be better.

Let me illustrate this with an example. Such is however no more than a brush stroke illustration and I merely suggest that, on balance, this is how a married couple might typically react to the following family situation:

Fred and Mary's fifteen year old daughter Sarah has a very intimate chat with her mum explaining that she wishes to take the birth pill. In their country doctors will readily supply such at that age notwithstanding that sex can only legally occur at the age of sixteen years.

Mary tells Sarah that she needs to discuss this with Fred, but assures her that she thinks that it will be OK.

Mary and Fred sit down and Mary raises the issue.

Fred declares that he's totally against the idea. Asked why he explains that (a) She's not legally old enough, (b) He doesn't want her 'interfered with' at such an early age, (c) Taking pills always carries a health risk, (d) If she takes the pill and has sex she may totally rely on such as the only form of contraception and consequently she may catch a S.T.D. He further states that he could think of lots of other logical reasons, and asks Mary what she thinks about what he has said so far?

Mary replies "I think it's OK for her to go on the pill."

Fred asks "Have you really thought this through? Have you considered all of the points I have made?" He then presses Mary to explain her rationale.

Mary has not however considered a check-list of rights and wrongs. She hasn't consciously thought about it much at all, but she knows that she is right. How so?

Simply because she has had many private conversations with Sarah and as a result sub-consciously she knows that Sarah is not only very mature for her years but is also emotionally ready for a full relationship. She doesn't need to think about it or rationalise in detail.

At which point there is likely to be a breakdown in communication between Fred and Mary simply because Mary is not equipped to explain her 'knowing' and makes the mistake of attempting to answer Fred by way of answers to his points. And she may well not be able to make out her case that way.

Author John Gray said 'Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus.'

I suggest that whilst men and women are different in many ways one has to be careful about declaring one sex better at problem solving. Because to do so assumes that there is a 'best' way to think whilst several thought processes (or indeed no conscious thought at all) may be equally valid, and a decision simply based on 'knowing' should never be readily dismissed as being illogical.

It may be illogical on many fronts, but nevertheless turn out to be the best decision!

First let say that this article is not an expose and I have omitted detailed specifics for fear of reprisal on others. It is based on personal domestic experience (as I had a twelve year genuine marriage to an immigrant - a wonderful woman who remains a friend), and several decades of speaking with people in international marriages from all over the world.

Different countries vary in their approach to immigration and my observations may not hold true within your own country.

Before bringing your lady into the country check with a Registrar of Marriages as to exactly what documentation is needed to marry her (should you both later so choose), what translations are required, and how they may need to be notarised. Have her bring such with her.

If her papers are in order they will normally be accepted by the Registrar of Marriages. I have never heard of security services blocking a potentially legal marriage, but that is not to say if never happens. I don't know.

Fortunately by far the biggest obstacle won't have to be faced by many of you, namely an obstacle directly caused due to your lady originating from a 'non-designated' country. That is my own terminology and simply means originating from a country which your government regards as being unsafe, possibly due to widespread poverty there. Normally every country makes no secret as to exactly which countries appear on its list.

Your government may for example assume that some nationalities who seek a visitor's visa simply wish to enter your nation purely for purposes of illegally permanently remaining.

If say, during an overseas expedition, you fall in love with a member of the Bonga Bonga tribe, and later attempt to bring her into your country, notwithstanding you sponsoring the lady your government will almost certainly insist on seeing her return air ticket, possibly dated no more than four weeks after her arrival.

Such return date may even be added to her visa. It's usually simply a governmental trick. She may even have to submit an inventory of all the places she intends visiting during her stay and why!

Possibly all of your government's short term visitors' visas are for six months? If so then it follows that legally she is allowed to remain in your country for that period, irregardless of any intended return date stated within her passport visa. However, legalities aside:

Although security services (and I include immigration departments) operate subject to a set of laws which relate to both you and them, in reality they step outside the law with impunity whenever it suits. They stand above the law, and order law enforcement services (eg. the police) to instigate their instructions which the police unquestioning follow to the letter.

On the rare occasions they communicate, lies trip of their tongues and can flow from even their very highest level. Reaching that level normally invokes you having your elected political representative do this on your behalf.

Think you have finally pinned them down at which point likely a passport and application papers will go 'missing' within their offices, literally for months.

If your lady from a non-designated country legally remains beyond the date of her declared return flight watch out! The remaining five months (or whatever) on her visitor's visa won't protect her if big brother visits at dawn with a secure transport van. And likely she'll be deported well before your lawyer can establish her location. But fortunately most governments are not that illegally aggressive. But some are.

Your first line of defence against her being removed from your country is to marry her almost immediately after she enters your country (assuming you pull off a miracle and get her a visitor's visa in the first place) and promptly register that marriage with your nation's immigration dept. Not ideal as likely you need the full visa duration in order to get to know her before possibly committing to marriage.

Such a rush may cause you a chain of additional problems, principally due to immigration officials not believing that the marriage is genuine insofar as both parties intending to live together and make a go of the union.

That is your quick marriage will very likely be regarded as being unnatural and fraudulent, and so expect to be watched and your movements followed by vehicle. Catch 22 - possibly lose her due to her being quickly forced out of the country, or quickly marry her and likely face the wroth of officials.

Ensure that until she hopefully eventually secures a permanent residency visa you both always sleep under the same roof. Walk everywhere hand it hand. Serious advice. Some countries may still possess the right to demand to enter your home and check your bedroom. I have no idea if they tap 'phones but such is very likely.

Expect any long term harassment you both receive from security services to become almost overwhelming at times, particularly if you are a relatively powerful person or are well known.

Such harassment sometimes continues for years after your wife has secured citizenship. For example acute immigration hassle when her parents visit to the point of breaking them down to tears, and lies being told to them by officials - for example that their daughter was illegally married and should have only married in her own country!

Before committing to marriage ensure that your lady is truly for you and that you have the necessary endless stamina and financial resources! It's the arguably toughest of challenges - namely fighting an opponent a billion times stronger than you, and one who can extremely effectively operate outside of the law. By all means engage the services of an immigration expert, but in reality he / she can do no more than a resourceful you.

I well appreciate that most readers will not be able to come close to relating to this let alone accepting that it goes on. It is something few dare speak of, and when they do - almost never in detail. Perhaps one has to experience it to believe? I was possibly one of those. As a lawyer I naively once presumed that absolutely everyone was subject to the law. Not so. Fifteen years on I still only dare write in brushstrokes.

As I said those problems are a relatively rare scenario as in most cases immigration is not a major challenge if you are both bona fide AND YOUR LADY COMES FROM A GOVERNMENT ACCEPTED COUNTRY. But it can be overwhelming when she does not, and possibly you then become targeted by immigration officials.

Next on the list of the many challenges you will face is finance. Do not naively simply factor in expected immigration and normal increased size of family costs. You need to factor in more, particularly as normally the government will bar your wife from initially working.

Sometimes your wife will have been financially supporting some of her relatives and will not only expect to continue so doing but also to occasionally visit them and they her at your expense. She may take it for granted that you know this. Few people see beyond their own cultures.

Also, factor in any necessary language tuition costs. In some countries permanent stay visas or citizenship are only issued subject to passing a language proficiency test. She may also dream of attending university for vocational training. If so, this can fit in well with the period when she is not allowed to work.

Cultural differences of course come high on the list. These are many and varied and can be funny - for example your partner becoming overwhelmed by your local massive supermarket and joyously spending eight hours just on one aisle, and maybe seeking 56 lbs. bags of salt in order to preserve cellar food during imagined months of being cut off due to expected snow .

Don't be surprised if she is immensely caring and protective of both you and your family in her own cultural way. Immense patience, kindness, and understanding has to be a exercised by you. Eat her odd food conconctions and bin your convenience food rubbish! She is demonstrating her caring. Reject her food and you reject her.

I will limit myself to just one more issue namely religion:

Most people who are not religious find it difficult to relate to anyone who holds their religion as being core to their being. Furthermore, those marrying ladies from abroad are very often themselves non-religious or even agnostics, whilst their brides can be entirely the opposite. Obviously one needs to be open / broad minded, flexible and tolerant.

Overall it possibly takes a special type of person to form a solid union with an immigrant if her beliefs and culture are significantly different to yours, so very carefully consider this before taking any positive steps, and more importantly honestly assess yourself. If you are dishonest with yourself you will later be dishonest with her, so guess the likely outcome?

And if your marriage does quickly break down, again watch out for the men 'dressed in black!'

One of my numerous dating and marriage articles published within my profile on 'LinkedIn.' (Ivan Sanders).

One of my favourite paradox profiles on here reads:

'....love animals, love roasts.....'

So many advertisers confuse loving pets with loving animals!

Such is life.

Wackford
(a vegan)