ou can play by yourself,but not with yourself [in public.]
You can play with words and on words though.
You can play for yourself and to yourself.
You can’t play for words or to words.
You can play about by yourself but you can’t play about with yourself. in the coffee shop.
You can play about with words and write a Play with words
You can’t pray to yourself but you can pray for yourself
You can pray to God but not for God but how about without God
You can pray without knowing
Can you play without knowing?Yes!
Can you play with God? Can you play by God?
You can pray by yourself with others and for others or about others.
You can pray with words and for words and without words but not about words
You can pray silently and play silently
You can find your vocation and take a vacation.
You can steel yourself but not steal yourself.
This seems odd.I can be odd but not seem odd
I can be funny and seem funny but not vice versa
Vice,why is it so appealing;so appalling?
Why are our vices so revealing.so revolting?
Now my dinner is congealing.Goodbye
This life is a play written by God and humanity
without much humanity though as we are too hard
We are too hard on ourselves and others and vice versa
I see where this may be going
so who is writing it?
Day: September 22, 2013
Psychoanalysis and baking for beginners
A cat from england
Source: Kathryn100
- After Mary went off to the Oxfam shop with a bag of odd shoes Stan decided to clean his laptop.
He was trying to open the plastic box of Screen Cleaning Tissues and wondering if he could have used a damp microfibre cloth instead.He was feeling excited because he was going to take Mary away for the weekend to a Pie Museum on the Lincolnshire coast.
There was a knock on the back door.He saw Lisa and Tom,two students from Knittingham University.Tom’s grandmother was a friend of Stan‘s.”Hello,”said Tom,”this is Lisa Stoat my girlfriend.””Hello,Lisa.How are you?And where do you come from?”
“Hello,I’m fine,thanks.I believe my mum found me under a gooseberry bush near the A19 to Teesside.She’d been out rambling with the gypsies.Anyway she met my dad when I was 2.He’s doctor in Middlesborough,he adopted me and several other children my mother found from time to time out in the country.There are six of us now.There are lots of gooseberry bushes on Teesside.”
“Thank you for that,Lisa.”
“Please don’t mention it; you are more than welcome!”
“Would you like some gooseberry pie.”
“Yes,I’m ravenous.” the girl replied shyly.
“Well,you know you are a growing girl.” Stan chuntered .
“I’m afraid I can’t find the cake forks”
“That’s a pity,” replied Tom.”I’ve never seen a cake fork in my life.” “Oh,goodness,”Stan called.”What did you do?”
“Well,we used a pick axe to cut the pies up and then lay on the floor and grabbed bits with our teeth.!”
“Where you raised by cats?” Stan cried querulously.
“To a certain extent,”the boy honestly admitted.”But I can use a knife and fork now for meat and veg and also I can now use a lavatory rather than digging a hole in the soil or using a plant pot.”
“Have you thought of writing your autobiography?”
“I feel I’m a bit young for that and the cats, Lucy and Mario, might be offended.”
“Can they read?” “Not yet but I’m doing phonics with them. the government recommends that according to the News of the Failed.”
“But not for cats,surely?”
“Well,you win some you lose some!” Tom answered with the unique and original turn of phrase typical of one raised by cats.
Lisa got over. excited.”You could call it “A tale of two Kitties“” she cried hysterically.
“Oh,my God.Is she bipolar?” Stan thought anxiously.
“But what would Professor Fittsgenstein think?”
“I rarely think,” said a man who had crept into the kitchen through the cat flap.”And I have to confess that I too was partially raised by cats.”
“Welcome.Professor”, they all shouted
“What a coincidence!”
“Well,”said Annie, who had been listening through the keyhole,”It’s very common in Knittinghamshire you know.The mortgages are so big,both parents have to work so they have no alternative but to leave the children at home with the cats.They all learn to mioaw which can be useful.” She then gave a loud”mioaw” and disappeared.“I’d better ring 999 “Stan whispered.”I think she is going mad.”
“Oh,no” Tom stated,”If you could enter into the narrative of her life and reach the place where she is you would see it all makes perfect sense.”
“What even the thick layers of makeup and the TKMaxx perfume.” “Yes,indeed.”
“Didn’t Schopenhauer advise against about pretending to be someone other than your true self?”
“I’m sorry but we have only reached pi and the Ancient Greeks.Is Philosophy meant to help you with real life problems?”
“What sort of pie did they eat?”Stan wondered anxiously.
“I guess maybe apricot or peach,”said Lisa.
“Well,I have the Fanni Far Mer cookery book here.I’ll look it up.”
“But she’s American? poor Lisa said peevishly
“I thought she was a Turk!”
“What about Gud How Ski Ping?”
“Yes,I do like the Chinese.”
Then Stan fell out of bed and landed on the rug.It was 4am.”I blame that cheese pie.” he thought mutinously.
Read more in the News of the Failed out a week on Sunday
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Book
Blossom
Across the road the almond tree
Will fill with buds in January.
Beside the porch,spiked rosemary
Flowers its blue in memory.
Waking these midwinter morns
I long to see Spring‘s lighter dawns
Subtler changes each day bring
The time to us when dawn birds sing
They make new nests,the swans do too.
I’d like to make a nest with you.
The apple tree, quite safe we’ll be.
That shall be our loving tree.
The tree will utter forth its pink
As I write this down with my blue ink
When I look, I see the strength
Of trunk and branches green-brown length.
The roots are navigating soil
Wherein the worms and insects toil.
Another wood beneath the ground,
Is growing deep without a sound.
And its birds do not fly high
For in dark soil there is no sky.
All beings which live upon this earth
Turn to dust to feed new birth.
From the dead,the living spring.
Thus nature her fresh blossom brings.
We reincarnate and we spin,
We turn and turn and turn again.
Like electrons round their nucleus,
This was Love before the abyss.
The atom cracked and death appeared
Apples disguised,like Eve’s, I fear.
The knowledge burned in scientists’ minds,
Until they used their deadly design.
Oh,would some power the gift give us.
To navigate Love‘s nucleus.
And could we spin in joyous mode,
So choose to take that Other Road.?
We need to smash the Looking Glass
Wherein cruel Chesire Cats do laugh.
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Riding pillion
The curate’s motorbike
Come here,Kathryn,come here quick,
‘Cos your Daddy’s really sick.
Run as fast as fast, you can,
Get the priest, get Father Dan.
Run,run went my eight year old feet,
Down the lane and up the street
I ran right up to Father’s door,
[Does God live there any more?]
“Come please, Mam said Daddy’s ill”
“Oh”,said Father,”that I will.”
Revving up his motor bike
With The Sacrament beside.
He lifted me up onto the back
And roared off up the church side track.
It was the best thrill of my life
If only Daddy had not died.
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Ninety one and still loving
His time to procreate has come!
His lover is now having twins!
See how Stanley grins.
Oh Stanley’s cat is called Emile.
He likes mouse pie and conger eels.
He watches Stanley making out.
He’s curious no doubt!
Why does Emile not find a mate?
Perhaps Emile left it far too late.
Though he has serviced twenty cats.
And killed so many rats.
But none of Emile’s lady mates
Stayed with him past their due date.
So Emile is a bachelor.
He’s peeping through the bedroom door.
He’s watching how these humans mate.
They seem to kiss and celebrate.
They sleep wrapped in each others arms.
This kind of love has charms.
So Emile wants to go online,
To find a site called “Yours is mine.”
He wants to find a sweet,sweet wife.
And live the loving life.
We must give Emile privacy,
Just like we permit Stanley.
They must not be in photo-shoots,
No matter that they’re cute.
Annie gets up in the night.
She keeps peeing,that’s alright.
She’s peeing now for two or three.
Her kidneys are busy.
Stanley brings her morning tea,
Emile notes in his diary.
She wears a dress and looks so bright.
What a cheerful sight.
Stanley has a his pension now.
Will they have child allowance too?
Age Concern will check on that,
While Emile’s on his mat.
Do you think Stan is far too old
To father twins and be so bold?
Should he forfeit his freedom pass?
He’s not short of brass.
Oh,George Osborne is coming round.
He wants to take the old man’s crown
[an old English coin]
He wants to punish older folk.
Ain’t he an evil bloke?
He thinks he will be Camerons’ heir!
He smiles a bit like Tony Blair.
He thinks we’ll all forget his tricks.
And we’ll just take his kicks.
But Stan and Annie organize
A protest march of the Oldies.
Not many are expecting twins,
Not when the march begins!
As you grow old, don’t give up life.
You take a lover or a wife.
You organise campaigns and march
From Camden town to Marble Arch.
You sing Dylan and play guitars.
You know what’s right and it matters.
You don’t leave life to other folk.
Oh,Stan’s a great old bloke.
Politics is for us all.
So get involved whilst you can crawl.
Make protests in your own sweet way.
Go on, begin today
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Read your Baubles daily
-
Don’t use your foam when in company.
Please harass me when in doubt.
Read the novel history of diction..
What is your affliction?
Does he stow his cards under Mabel?
Why did Beth have a Mac?
Adam and Eve were unmarried and had only God to revise them
Poetry is good for the behind
Don’t weed my letters today.
Please delete me,let me go.
Please take care with stamps and rogues.
Please stalk on the footpath provided.
Beware of the dull.
Are you the delusion or the prodigal son?
Feed your Bible daily.
Please don’t seed my hand nor foretell my date of mirth.Isn’t life remakeable?
How my heart sings 