Our mood affects the colour of the sky

The park sloped to a river behind trees
The other side is a large burial ground
Where my father’s body lay, bereaved

In the flowered park we sat and grieved
We heard the thwack of tennis balls resound
The park sloped to a river behind trees

Children can’t imagine mother’s pleased
When her strong support lies underground
As my father’s body lay, bereaved

Children torment others , poisoned bees
Sensing sweet fragility inside
The park sloped down to hide behind tall trees

Now my mother lies where I ‘ve dripped tears
As if I hope a flowering shrub will shade
And father’s body lies with mother’s, pleased

Memories may well alter .don’t deny
Our mood affects the colour of the sky
The park sloped to a river. grave the trees

I once hoped that my dead could be retrieved

In my dream I gave birth to a child

In my dream I gsve birth to a child

The doctor said that he would die quite soon.

My feelinga overwhelmed me, made me wild

The Nazi doctor threw him on a pile

I lay nearby unmoving as I keened

In my dream,I gave birth to a chil da

A week passed by,I knew that death beguiled

Frozen lips made no sound, song or tune

My feelings overwhelming made me wild

I had to rise and say my black goodbye.

My baby with the others;horror loomed

In my dream I gave birth to a child

I picked him up , when suddenly he smiled

I held him to my breast, my songs I crooned

My feelings overwhelming drove me wild

I had to carry him, the landscape gloom

A desert grey and rocky like some moon

In my dream I gave birth to a child

In terror I had walked yet love consoled

What To Do When You Can’t Sleep | Sleep Foundation

https://www.sleepfoundation.org/insomnia/treatment/what-do-when-you-cant-sleep

4-7-8 Method6

  1. Place the tip of your tongue near the ridge behind your front two teeth and hold it in this location throughout the breathing exercise.
  2. With your mouth closed, slowly inhale through your nose while counting to four.
  3. Hold your breath while counting to seven.
  4. Open your mouth and exhale while counting to eight. Because of the location of your tongue, exhalation should cause a whooshing sound.
  5. Repeat this 4-7-8 cycle three more times.

Who It’s Great For:

Controlled breathing is excellent for people just getting started with relaxation techniques or who have difficulty using other objects of focus like imagery or mantras.

Meditation and Mindfulness

Why It Works:

Mindfulness is centered around slow, steady breathing and a non-judgmental focus on the present moment. By reducing anxiety and rumination, it has been found to have sweeping health benefits7, including an ability to help reduce insomnia8.

How to Do It: 

There are many variations of mindfulness meditation for different situations. One easy to use style is the body scan meditation9.

  1. Focus on slowly inhaling and exhaling at a comfortable pace.
  2. Notice the position of your body on the bed.
  3. Notice any sensations, good or bad, in your legs and feet. Let your legs be soft.
  4. Continue the “body scan,” observing, from your legs up to your head, each region of your body and its sensations. The goal is to stay present and observe your body without judging or reacting and then letting each part of your body relax.
  5. After scanning each part of your body, reflect on your body as a whole and allow it to relax.

This version is adapted from UC-Berkeley’s Greater Good in Action (GGIA) program that offers audio recordings for this and other mindfulness meditations10.

Who It’s Great For: 

Anyone can meditate, including with mindfulness meditation, but it can take more practice to get used to. As a result, it usually works best for people who can devote at least five minutes per day to increase their comfort with it.

Progressive Muscle Relaxation

Why It Works:

Progressive muscle relaxation11 (PMR) creates a calming effect by gradually tightening and releasing muscles throughout the body in conjunction with controlled breathing.

How to Do It:

  1. With your eyes closed, slowly breathe in and out.
  2. Starting with your face, tense your muscles (lips, eyes, jaw) for 10 seconds, then release your muscles and breathe deeply in and out for several seconds.
  3. Tense your shoulders for 10 seconds and then relax and breathe.
  4. Continue tensing and relaxing the following body parts, skipping any area where tensing the muscles causes pain:
    1. Shoulders
    2. Upper arms
    3. Lower arms and hands
    4. Back
    5. Stomach
    6. Buttocks
    7. Hamstrings
    8. Calves
    9. Feet

Who it’s Great For: 

Studies have found that PMR can help people with insomnia12, and when done carefully, may be beneficial13 for people who are bothered by arthritis14 or other forms of physical pain. PMR is not recommended for people with uncontrolled cardiovascular problems.

Imagery

Why It Works: 

Visualizing a peaceful image from your past and all of its details engages your attention in order to promote relaxation.

How to Do It: 

  1. With your eyes closed and in a comfortable position, think about a place or experience in your past that feels relaxing, such as a quiet natural setting.
  2. While slowly breathing in and out, reflect on the details of this setting and how it looks.
  3. Continue focusing on this image by adding details relating to your other senses (smell, sound, taste, touch) and experiencing the calmness of this mental imagery.

Who it’s Great For:

Visual thinkers who easily recall past scenes replete with details are ideally suited to using imagery as part of their bedtime relaxation.

Are There Downsides to Relaxation Techniques?

Negative consequences are rare for relaxation techniques, but a small number of people find that they can provoke anxiety. Anyone with concerns about trying these methods should talk with their doctor for specific advice before getting started.

What to Do About Mind Wandering

Even experts in meditation find that their minds can wander during these relaxation techniques, so don’t worry if it happens to you. Instead, stay calm, keep breathing slowly, and try to bring your mind back to the main focus of attention.

What If I Still Can’t Fall Asleep?

If you get into bed and cannot fall asleep after 20 minutes, get up, go to another part of your house, and do something soothing, such as reading or listening to quiet music.

Lying awake in bed for too long can create an unhealthy mental connection between your sleeping environment and wakefulness. Instead, you want your bed to conjure thoughts and feelings conducive to sleep.
 

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Pre-Bedtime Tips to Help Fall Asleep Quickly

Before you actually get into bed, a few simple tips can help make sure your mind and body are prepared to fall asleep easily:

  • Wind down for at least half an hour before bedtime. Reading, light stretching, and other relaxing activities are ideal during this time.
  • Disconnect from close-range electronic devices like laptops, phones, and tablets because they can stimulate the brain and make it harder to fall asleep.
  • Dim the lights to help your eyes relax, and make sure you’re in comfortable clothing.
  • Make sure your bedroom is set to a pleasant temperature. The cooler the better.
  • Consider a calming scent, like lavender essential oils, that can generate a calming effect.
  • Avoid big meals, spicy foods, caffeine, and alcohol in the lead-up to bedtime.

Big-Picture Tips to Fall Asleep Easily

Beyond the immediate run-up to bedtime, incorporating fundamental sleep tips can aid in falling asleep and prevent serious sleeping problems.

  • Follow a consistent sleep schedule with the same wake-up time every day, including on weekends. This helps fine-tune and entrain your internal clock for more regular sleep.
  • Make time for physical activity. Regular exercise benefits the body in many ways, and facilitating better sleep is one of them.
  • If you have a hard time sleeping, start keeping a sleep diary to identify trends that could be throwing off your nightly rest.
  • See a doctor. If your sleeping problems are severe, long-term, or worsening, it’s important to see a doctor who can work with you to try to identify a cause and recommend optimal treatment.
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About Our Editorial Team

author
Eric Suni

Staff Writer

Eric Suni has over a decade of experience as a science writer and was previously an information specialist for the National Cancer Institute.

author
Dr. Abhinav Singh

Sleep Physician

MD

Dr. Singh is the Medical Director of the Indiana Sleep Center. His research and clinical practice focuses on the entire myriad of sleep disorders.

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    Want to Sleep 

    A space to be unseen

    Small rain in summer
    Pools on large green leaves,
    Makes all birds dumber
    Silently they weave.

    Wrens fly to and fro
    Nesting near the house.
    They know where to go
    With nestlings and spouse.

    Simple life of green
    Hiding in lush leaves.
    A space to be unseen
    Humans only grieve.

    Where is our safe space,
    Where can we live well?
    As anguish veils the face
    In green thoughts I dwell

    I saw Anne Frank

    Photo0340

    Walking through unceasing traffic outside the main hospital,
    I saw Anne Frank at the bus stop,I thought
    There was a young woman with seven children,
    Jewish,I saw.Little ones shyly offering us their seats.
    I asked if she lived nearby.
    No, we live in Stamford Hill,North London
    What a shame you have to come so far,
    for this terminus is inside the hospital grounds,you see.
    Oh,no!We did not come for the hospital.
    We came to pick fruit on that lovely farm down the hill!
    Yes,we have been there too, it is very beautiful,I say.
    It’s easy enough on public transport,she murmured softly like a little girl.
    The children gazed, demure and polite,
    I could see their smiles were not so far away.
    I asked her,Would it be offensive
    if I gave my husband a kippah
    as he is tired of his hat?
    Not at all,she murmured,smiling.
    Why,you can get them anywhere now…Stamford Hill,Golder’s Green
    She took off the hat from her son’s head
    to show me how white his skin was there.
    She told me how they just came back from a seaside holiday.
    Too soon ,their bus came.She’d be ready for a cup of tea or two.
    I saw eight faces smile,just a little smile,you know;
    enough it was and all for me.
    The oldest girl waved her hand gently as the bus left.
    I see this is not just a place with a hospital.
    It’s got a pick your own fruit farm;it’s got woods,hills,
    fields with horses,tomato filled greenhouses,large white houses.
    When they close their eyes they’ll see the green and the sunshine;they’ll see the woods on the hill.
    And I shall see them and Anne Frank too ;it was the hidden smile.
    Why,I see it is almost the Mona Lisa too.

    A smile can be such a mystery.

    Emerging from a hospital,tests,blood,anxiety.,machines,..
    it’s like dreaming,
    it’s like being given a hint;
    there’s another time intersecting with this
    and history herself brushes against my cheek
    with a rare intimacy
    that makes me both smile and weep.
    It’s always here,but we don’t see…
    It’s not a hospital only;
    it’s a doorway to other worlds

    and what worlds,indeed.,

    Never pass water in public.

    The saying

    Never pass water in public

    Might make it difficult if you live near  a lake or river.

    Or it’s been raining and there’s a puddle on the pavement mother told you never to pass it in public

    Never skate on our water until it freezes

    Passing water can be hard for the elderly so remember this when you’re drawing up your walking expedition. Don’t take them to the lake District.

    Now moving on what about passing out?

    I once passed out at the dining table but usually soldiers pass out after they’ve completed their training. That’s why they look so numb

    Some drugs make me pass out the main one being gtn or glycerol trinitrate. This is a treatment for angina which blows open all your arteries. But if you are inexperienced and use too much of it you will feel as if your eyes can’t see properly your scalp will start to sweat profusely and the world will shrink around you

    If you feel like this try to kneel down or lie down on the floor to avoid injuring yourself when you faint. Is there any happened to me once and it was horrible

    Remember not everybody is drunk when they act in a strange way because it can also because of diabetic medication to lower the blood sugar.

    If it goes too low you can actually pass out or even die

    But your doctor won’t get into trouble because they were giving you the treatment recommended the fact that it affects you more than other people it’s nothing to do with the doctor.

    They are all terrified of being accused of doing something wrong

    Well that’s only right isn’t it?

    By the way if you pass large amounts of water and feel terribly thirsty that may very well be a sign of diabetes.

    If you get to the point when you’re losing weight it is not because your drinking half a point of water before every meal. It is that you’ve got diabetes your body cannot take the sugar out of your blood to feed the cells and for some reason which I don’t quite understand it begins to  digest your muscles.

    I’ve known two friends who were so happy they were losing weight until the real reason was found.

    One of them had an eating disorder and she could eat very few foods so she concentrated on cheesecake as being full of protein

    You can’t live on cheese cake

    You could live on bread and cheese plus salads  and maybe some boiled eggs, tomatoes etc

    That Friday night feeling of utter exhaustion

    I said I am waiting for transport not where is the banned port

    I said I’m writing my blog not get lost in the fog

    I said I want good pain relief not I want to compare our disease

    I said I love Pablo Picasso not you look very declasse

    I said I’m going to pick some apples not I’m going to lick  some nipples

    I said I like Stephen Leacock not I’m turning into a peacock

    II said am I too old to blog not go and fall off a log

    I said I prefer cats to dogs not I prefer rats to frogs.

    I said do you like a hot dinner not don’t tell me you’re a sinner

    Too old for sex not I shall break all your necks

    I said what is your name not you are entirely to blame

    I’m getting tired of all these misunderstandings and you think I’m just rambling

    I said are you a psychiatrist not I’ve got infantile paralysis

    We can get spectacles for our eyes and hearing aids for our ears but what can we get for our minds?

    The impertinent restaurant

    Main course

    Moussaka with road machine abd dictators

    Codswallop in batter with rude potatoes and fleas
    Roast teeth and Yorkshire pudding with speaking broccoli
    Rascal’s Lamb with Hint Sauce
    Lasagne with chips,tea bread and butter thrown in.
    Corned beef smash and cabbage
    Beef stewed in Wales with French Bread and roast tomatoes

    Pudding

    Roly poly jam with steamed air.
    Lemons on mice.
    Oranges sliced and baked in a stone dish with marmite [You keep the dish]
    Full flat yoghurt with fruit of the day
    Christmas Cake pudding and bustards
    Minced lies and branded nutter

    Steamed Yemeni spongec with angels wings  and refugee camp plus tent

    From Dr Google AI

    Sir Cyril Burt was a prominent British educational psychologist whose twin studies on the heritability of IQ heavily influenced the UK’s 11-plus selection system, but his work was posthumously exposed as fraudulent. [1, 2, 3, 4]

    Chased by geese and God

    I remember all the humorous things we did

    Peering into windows lit by lamps

    Climbing cliffs then chased by geese and dog Walking down from Redcar, sea so still

    After Saltburn Pier, the cliffs high jump

    I remember all the funny things we did

    Wandering Whitby in a sea grey smog Eating a pork pie cut into lumps Climbing cliffs then chased by geese and dog

    Old Hunstanton , white sands where we’d sit

    The wild spikes of the gorse spread out unclamped

    I remember all the colours,scents, and that

    I feel the joy inside my heart is lit

    Woe is leavened by old nature’s stamp

    Climbing high then chased through mud by dogs

    We see in shadows shades are not so stark

    In Studland Bay astonished by skylarks

    I remember all the humour and the love .

    Climbing cliffs then caught by geese and God

    We were chased by geese in Devon after climbing a cliff.No doubt chased by a man after we peered into his garden

    Starvation nation

    Are you worried that you’ll suffer starvation?

    Are you one of the poor of our nation?

    There is pi in the sky

    God only knows why

    Mathematics is no good for emotion.

    At the end of the month we were short

    Our money had got very taut

    Instead of a roast

    We tried baked frogs on toast

    Now we’re both feeling stunned and  remote

    I can’t say I love a red pepper

    And my husband prefers unsmoked kippers

    But we all have to eat

    Try cows heels or their feet

    And just keep your lip a bit stiffer.

    I am glad I can pay income tax

    When I have paid it I love to relax.

    So I must go out to work

    I’m an MP, see me smirk

    I won’t up your tax that’s a fact

    Why have you brought a frog to school

    Teacher why have you brought a cat to school?

    So he can learn to read

    He can’t even talk.

    I’m not going to get him to read out loud..

    Why have you brought a frog to school,

    Because I was coming to school when I found him.

    Well don’t come to school via the Bullring tomorrow

    Teacher to girl why have you got a curtain ring on your finger?

    It won’t fit on my toe

    Why have you got a hat on in the classroom?

    I wear it outside as well.

    Are you Jewish?

    I’m not sure but I thought I’d practise the rituals

    Surely your parents must know whether you’re Jewish.

    They’ve not been speaking for the last 10 years.

    The should go to a marriage guidance counsellor.

    They’ve not got married yet.

    And how old are you?

    I must be at least 9 months.

    If you were 9 months old you wouldn’t be able to talk.

    There’s always a first time for everything.

    But you’d be a newborn baby.

    Can’t they talk?

    Have you never seen a newborn baby?

    Yes I have seen them when my mother gives birth and she says to them I’ll never have sex again.

    And what do they say?

    It’s too late now

    The orchestra that plays as we go in

    The chattering cacophony of cars
    Underneath  the silence  of the stars
    The echo of lost voices,faces, smiles
    To which our little  heart is always loyal

    The horns that shriek, the trains  that wreck the track
    The vision of the lost who can’t come back
    The loaded wagons  and the violin
    The orchestra that plays as we go in

    The crackling of the ice the skaters skim
    The refugees whose clothing is too thin
    The  scream of Munch, the horror he foresaw.
    The end of Europe in the first World War

    The  decorated War Memorials  grim
    Reminding us that no-one ever wins

    Folded rivers

    However folded rivers sigh

    Watch fields of barley unreel red eye.

    Bad-mouth the world then eat the sky;

    And thro’ the weald the toads run by

    To moody glowering Havelot; And chips in hand the fishes row, Gazing as the matrices’ glow Refine algebra with its flaws

    The Geometry of My Blot.

    Pillows quaver, aspirins quiver, Little wheezes flush our livers With two eyes mauve that gleam forever

    By the cardinal’s email love

    r Fleeing down to Grab a phone. Fifty shades of grey ,balls powered

    Overload the ovarie

    And the silent male implodes

    For the Lady, will she Not?

    Ar my jargon, pillows wailed They read the heavy sheets in braille

    Slow and blue the duvets failed

    The dry mop shuttered silk and pale

    Slapping down wi fi Hotspots

    But which computer saw her glands?

    Or at her thyroid wondered long? Or is she known to heartless men, The Lady M.A [aegrotat]

    Only drapers, fold sincerely

    In among the beds and parlours,

    Hear a gong that echoes queerly From the river bounding eerie Down to showers for Camper’s Foot And on the Lune, the sweeping fairies

    Pile the leaves in uplands barely Listening, whispers “‘Tis the lovely Lady with a white Teapot

    Preserve a cow







    Mary and Annie had invited a new neighbour for tea.They got out the big teapot and some blue cups and saucers made of china
    Is there enough milk,Annie enquired?
    Yes,I’ve got six pints, my finger must have trembled when I was ticking the box for the order
    Milk keeps much longer now than it used to Annie cried plaintively
    Maybe the cows are given preservatives .Mary mused
    You mean the cows eat them,Annie asked?
    Well, it’s just one possibility,Mary thought out loud
    Now, where shall Edna sit?
    You sit on the sofa with her and I’ll sit in this swivelling chair
    OK,Annie muttered as she shook the door mat and brushed Emile the cat
    The doorbell rang.There stood Edna in a purple wool coat and red hat
    Come in,Mary whispered.Let me take your coat
    Edna went and sat down by Annie while Mary carried in the tea tray
    Have you had your vaccination yet, she asked Edna gently
    Oh, don’t talk about it,I can’t bear injections Edna said in an argumentative manner
    So don’t you have blood tests,is that wise?
    For God’s sake, don’t mention blood ever or I’ll scream
    Are you afraid of it?
    I don’t want to discuss it, nor urine, Edna said as she swigged the tea and filled her cup again
    I’ll be glad when Donalmld Trump leaves,Annie said in an effort to change the subject
    Why don’t people like him,Edna asked furtively.
    He is a rich man with a beautiful wife
    I don’t like people merely because they are rich.Mary informed the other ladies
    I don’t mind them, said Annie, unless they are vulgar, greedy, liars, and sons of the devil
    That is a very prejudiced view,Edna told her.Everyone is entitled to behave exactly how they want
    Well,Annie said,I’d like to lie down on the grass over there by the river and have sex with that psychotherapist who lives across the road But it would cause scandal unless lots of people did the same
    Has your imagined lover got no bed,Mary teased her?
    I think that’s disgusting , in a an older woman said Edna.I suppose that’s why you have that teal eyeshadow and mascara on not to mention your rose lipstick.I’ve seen it in Harrods
    I got them in Channel supplies in Birkenhead.They are near the Mersey Tunnel
    It’s a long way to go,said Edna.How do you get there and why is it nor called Tunnel Supplies
    I follow a man on Facebook and he often drives up there so I get my car out and keep behind him all the way on the M1 etc
    Does he know about this?
    No, he’s not following me on FB any more
    I wonder why that is, Edna mused with a strange sneer
    He is paranoid,I suspect
    No wonder,Mary said.He thinks he is imagining you.
    I hope his imagination is as pure as the driven snow,Annie answered
    Well, we’ll never know.Look at Princess Diana….she had many lovers..
    I hate her, said Edna viciously
    Oh,dear. said Mary.Did she hurt you?
    No, she was cruel to Prince Charles.Her mind was innocent then and she had no repertoire of the sexual arts
    Many women were virgins when they were single.How would they know such mysteries?
    They could look at porn,Edna said rudely..
    Do you look at porn, Annie asked her kindly?
    Well,I would if I had a lover,Edna murmured shyly
    Maybe they should teach it instead of algebra,Mary suggested, though once it was an instinct
    The parents might be angry,Edna said sadly if their children knew more than them
    But intimacy is not merely sex,Annie told them politely
    It’s being able to to reveal yourself to the other person without fear
    and I don’t mean wearing see through nighties
    Emile mewed loudly
    Mother, don’t you wear one.The milkman might see your body
    I find them too cold anyway,Mary giggled sensibly
    If I get another man he will have to like wincyette or fleece
    Well,good luck, said Edna.No English man would want either of you
    Edna you are very rude,What is wrong with you?
    I’ve got pre-traumatic stress disorder and there is no cure
    Well,use your common sense or just keep quiet and sulk silently
    And so say all of us.

    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

    John Berger: From Life by Tom Overton review – a vibrant biography of the pioneering critic

    https://www.theguardian.com/books/2026/aug/10/john-berger-from-life-by-tom-overton-review-a-vibrant-biography-of-the-pioneering-critic?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

    Att by the author

    To sit by Mr Aneurin Bevan

    When I die I am going to Heaven
    To sit by Mr Aneurin Bevan
    We will eat buttered Welsh cakes
    Float in hot blue lakes
    Oh final thought, how about Devon?

    I wonder if I am perverted
    For writing my poems with  ten verses
    They say we’re post modern
    And swearing’s forbidden
    So are magic,religion and cursing.

    I wonder if I  can be fluid
    A man or a woman or druid?
    I can be other
    Since I have no mother
    But what about rats in the sewage?

    To economists we are just” Labour ”
    We’re units when  once we were neighbours
    Gender’s  quite useless
    True  love is a nuisance
    Capital  makes Money our Saviour

    Why not  buy a new winter coat
    Decorated with  the fur off a stoat
    Weasels are  cheaper
    Cats  purr and pierce you
    As you sail ‘cross the Styx   in  a  boat

    I thought I’d not marry again
    I’m a feminist along with the men
    But a m\n tried to hug me
    And tickled my kidneys
    He says I’m charming the snakes  into sin

    But I think I am past getting wed
    I just want to go straight to bed
    Not just for the pleasure
    Of getting his measure
    No, it’s  just that  my organ’s half dead

    I’d gaze into his eyes and feel good
    As at last I’d feel  well understood
    We don’t need to  chatter
    About any matter
    Nor scratch like the cat and draw blood.

    I think my bed is too small
    The headboard is stuck to the wall
    The mattress collapses
    As do my synapses
    Who do you think  should call?

    I’ve been untidy  ever since I was born
    I lost mother’s breast  and her warmth
    I’ve been looking forever
    I got rather clever
    Now I’ve lost my old man in the corn

    Another mind

    From time and place and season I am lost, Disorientated ,missing tracks well worn.

    Do not suppose I’m unaware of cost,

    Nor label me with epithets of scorn. For usual paths lead to the usual place.

    The safest way to live and perhaps to die,

    But wandering through the woods I find new space

    and in wild grasses with the fox I lie.

    Through distant trees, I see a way to go

    As narrow as a slit in pale limestone.

    I pass in silence as if in deep,deep snow.

    My courage rises even as I groan. Remember when we’re lost ,we may then find

    Another way,a place,another mind.

    Writing makes me breathe differently

    Sometimes writing makes me breathe differently.
    I can feel the silence settle around me,
    Like a prayer shawl.
    i accept it gratefully.
    There’s a thin feeling to the day
    As if the sun might have tried harder
    to come through
    But it had a blue feeling
    And the clouds were greedy,
    Wanting too much to melt
    And shed their moisture.
    Some perfume please.I think it was £27.99
    Yes,I like that one even more than jasmine oil.
    Pour it down over London
    Like a blessing.
    A black woman laughed and patted my arm,
    You’re so funny, she cried.
    And I smiled coyly
    As if someone hidden was taking my photograph.
    Sometimes life’s too sweet
    And needs a little pepper.
    The chair creaks as I lean forward
    Trying to see everything at once
    As if it all happened now, not yesterday.

    Best writing tips from well known writers

    https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/sep/10/my-best-writing-tip-william-boyd-jeanette-winterson

    Claire Messud

    Sarah Lee
    Sarah Lee

    In fiction, character is (almost) everything. We discuss “the elements of craft” – characterisation, plot, point of view, dialogue, detail, setting, style, and so forth – as if they were separable, as if you could disentangle them one from another. You can’t, of course; but when you filter almost all things through the specificities of character, many questions resolve themselves, almost miraculously.

    Each of us is, in any given moment, the sum total of our temperament and experiences up to that point. Our baggage and idiosyncrasies may be suggested in our appearance; but much is invisible to the world. We all know that if there are three people in a room, each will tell a different story about what happened there – so ccharacter determines the story itself. But it also determines what will unfold – the plot.

    As a writer, when you create a character, you don’t simply create his exterior (the wispy goatee, the receding hairline, the Liberty print shirt and expensive loafers); you must also come to know who he is (bullied in school, uneasy in friendships, veering between eager to please and cruel; vain but pretending not to be), and what has formed him (a Catholic school in the Sydney suburbs? A comprehensive in Exeter? Born with a silver spoon; or things started off comfortably, but his father’s business failed when he was 11? Raised in the shadow of three older siblings? Or alone with a single mum?). You must know his passions (loves pugs? Bicycle racing? First world war history? Talmudic study?) and his fears.

    Once you know this person as well as you know yourself (or better), and once you put him, or her, in a particular place in a particular time, your character can only really act (or react) in a limited number of ways. He will notice only certain things, and those things only from a particular perspective; he will interact with others as only he can. If you’re using the first person, or the third person privileging this character, your diction and syntax – your very writing style – will be shaped by this person.

    So much about a character is invisible, in fiction as in real life; but what lies beneath the surface will affect every aspect of your story. If you really take the time to figure out who you’re dealing with, much will become clear.
    • Claire Messud is a senior lecturer in creative writing at Harvard

    Where do you sleep?

    Doctor,doctor,I;m worried

    about my coughin’.

    What about your coffin?

    Well,it’s keeping me awake at night.

    Why,are you sleeping in it

    I have only one place to sleep.

    If you are tired you can sleep anywhere

    is that legal?

    Of course, it is. Well, can I sleep in the Queen’s bed? In theory,yes… but you might frighten the horses.

    Why, do they sleep with her?She must have a big bed.

    Don’t be so ridiculous…

    Well, she has loads of money; she, could have a bed made for her. She has a bed maid for her

    Do you mean someone makes her bed every day?

    well,don’t you make yours every day?

    No,I bought one in a bed store and it’s well built.

    But do you change the sheets daily?

    No,i never use paper I write letters on my chromebook.

    Which letters? Any letters at all,except French ones. but they use our alphabet. it’s not ours. Whose is it? Possibly the Romans.Tantrum ergo! They are all long gone into their coffins.

    Uno,duo tres,quattore…,decem,duodecem,duagessin’.. I knew coughin’ was very dangerous

    I think your grammar is bed. What a posh excent you have It’s all I have left of the old palace. Well, never mind you can share my coffin if you like. But is there a bed in it? Just a bed bug as yet… I blame the CIA.. who do you blame?

    I blame God and he blames us so it’s pretty much a stalemate. We need the Messiah….. Not again,we’ve not got over the last one yet…

    You make him sound like a hurdle… Well,it’s one way of looking at it all.. a big hurdle. It’s all this talkin’ keeps me awake at night… At least it stops you coughin’ Doctor,doctor,the coughin’s keeping me up all night again For goodness sake put the lid on it.

    My heart is like a rowing boat adrift

    My heart is like a rowing boat adrift
    Whose occupant has fallen overboard
    The empty vessel drifts through deep sea mist.
    And in those pearl filled ears the deep sea roars.
    Just as the boat drifts mapless,so do I.
    My maps were drawn for quite another sea
    My captain’s taken leave and now I cry
    As if that drowned soul might just be me.
    Yet on the sea bed mysteries abound;
    Such wonders and such magic there displayed.
    I wonder if it is my lot drown
    And to a memory then quickly fade.
    Maps are no more certainties than hints.
    Between the lines hides gold from other mints.

    Putting in the Seed by Robert Frost

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    https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poems/45684
    The Frost couple moved to England in 1912, after they tried and failed at farming in New Hampshire. It was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.

    Putting in the Seed

    Robert Frost, 1874 – 1963

    You come to fetch me from my work to-night
    When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see
    If I can leave off burying the white
    Soft petals fallen from the apple tree.
    (Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
    Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;)
    And go along with you ere you lose sight
    Of what you came for and become like me,
    Slave to a springtime passion for the earth.
    How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
    On through the watching for that early birth
    When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
    The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
    Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

    read poems by this poet

    Robert Frost was born on March 26, 1874, in San Francisco, where his father, William Prescott Frost Jr., and his mother, Isabelle Moodie, had moved from Pennsylvania shortly after marrying. After the death of his father from tuberculosis when Frost was eleven years old, he moved with his mother and sister, Jeanie, who was two years younger, to Lawrence, Massachusetts. He became interested in reading and writing poetry during his high school years in Lawrence, enrolled at Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire, in 1892, and later at Harvard University in Boston, though he never earned a formal college degree.

    Frost drifted through a string of occupations after leaving school, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. His first published poem, “My Butterfly,” appeared on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent.

    In 1895, Frost married Elinor Miriam White, whom he’d shared valedictorian honors with in high school and who was a major inspiration for his poetry until her death in 1938. The couple moved to England in 1912, after they tried and failed at farming in New Hampshire. It was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.

    By the time Frost returned to the United States in 1915, he had published two full-length collections, A Boy’s Will (Henry Holt and Company, 1913) and North of Boston(Henry Holt and Company, 1914), and his reputation was established. By the 1920s, he was the most celebrated poet in America, and with each new book—including New Hampshire (Henry Holt and Company, 1923), A Further Range (Henry Holt and Company, 1936), Steeple Bush(Henry Holt and Company, 1947), and In the Clearing (Holt Rinehart & Winston, 1962)—his fame and honors (including four Pulitzer Prizes) increased. Frost served as U.S. Poet Laureate from 1958 to 1959.

    Though his work is principally associated with the life and landscape of New England—and though he was a poet of traditional verse forms and metrics who remained steadfastly aloof from the poetic movements and fashions of his time—Frost is anything but merely a regional poet. The author of searching and often dark meditations on universal themes, he is a quintessentially modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits, and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony.

    In a 1970 review of The Poetry of Robert Frost, the poet Daniel Hoffman describes Frost’s early work as “the Puritan ethic turned astonishingly lyrical and enabled to say out loud the sources of its own delight in the world,” and comments on Frost’s career as the “American Bard”: “He became a national celebrity, our nearly official poet laureate, and a great performer in the tradition of that earlier master of the literary vernacular, Mark Twain.”

    About Frost, President John F. Kennedy, at whose inauguration the poet delivered a poem, said, “He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding.”

    Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died in Boston on January 29, 1963.

    Selected Bibliography

    Poetry

    In the Clearing (Holt Rinehart & Winston, 1962) Hard Not to Be King (House of Books, 1951)
    Steeple Bush (Henry Holt and Company, 1947)
    Masque of Reason (Henry Holt and Company, 1945)
    Come In, and Other Poems (Henry Holt and Company, 1943)
    A Witness Tree (Henry Holt and Company, 1942)
    A Further Range (Henry Holt and Company, 1936)
    From Snow to Snow (Henry Holt and Company, 1936)
    The Lone Striker (Knopf, 1933)
    The Lovely Shall Be Choosers (Random House, 1929)
    West-Running Brook (Henry Holt and Company, 1928)
    New Hampshire (Henry Holt and Company, 1923)
    Mountain Interval (Henry Holt and Company, 1916)
    North of Boston (Henry Holt and Company, 1914)
    A Boy’s Will (Henry Holt and Company, 1913)

    Rondeau- a reminder

    https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/rondeau-poetic-form

     

    “An example of a solemn rondeau is the Canadian army physician John McCrae’s 1915 wartime poem, “In Flanders Fields“:

         In Flanders fields the poppies grow
    Between the crosses, row on row,
    That mark our place, and in the sky,
    The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
    Scarce heard amid the guns below.

    We are the dead; short days ago
    We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
    Loved and were loved, and now we lie
    In Flanders fields.

    Take up our quarrel with the foe!
    To you from failing hands we throw
    The torch; be yours to hold it high!
    If ye break faith with us who die
    We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
    In Flanders fields.

    The challenge of writing a rondeau is finding an opening line worth repeating and choosing two rhyme sounds that offer enough word choices. Modern rondeaus are often playful; for example, “Rondel” by Frank O’Hara begins with this mysterious directive: “Door of America, mention my fear to the cigars,” which becomes the poem’s refrain.”

    Meeting someone’s eyes is like a touch

    Meeting someone’s eyes is like a touch
    As if our self extends  outside our skin
    With no intention to take hold or clutch

    Those who do this , how love must be rich
    Rarely will they mortify or sin
    Meeting someone’s eyes is a kind  touch

    If we are afraid, may we find trust
    Let us  try again,  why not begin
    With no intention to take hold or clutch?

    We are human, do we mind who’s first?
    Let our minding weigh  less than  a pin
    Meeting someone’s eyes is like a touch

    In the end we mingle with the dust
    Have we made good use of any gift
    With no intention to take hold or clutch?

    With love around, we  need not be too  swift
    Take your own time  wandering through the mist
    Meeting someone’s eyes is like a touch
    Gentle, do caress, don’t  grasp nor clutch