You know you have to leave me,
Though you desire a longer stay
Let me hold you in my arms now
For just tonight and perhaps one day.
Then I’ll watch you travel on,sweet.
We take this last step all alone.
I’ll be here beside you watching.
I shall feel when you are gone.
May you accept, may you surrender.
I hope you reach the promised land.
Into this earth my tears will fall, love
When I feel your cold,cold hands
s
Not love nor money should we seek to steal;
Nor for self praise and value be in need
For these things can not ever truly heal.
And onto a wrong path must surely lead.
Not to vice nor virtue must our wills be tied;
Yet by God’s grace we gently may be led
Our will directs attention which denied
May let our pride control our fuming head.
Not good nor bad can track the vane of God
Far from our sightless eyes are his affairs.
Yet Faith and Hope can be a dowsing rod
With Love the force to trace the Spirit bare.
Oh,come down,Spirit take me as your wife
Fill me with grace and fill me with new life
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Where’s the doctor?
He’s gone to court for sexual harrassment
Can’t he get that somewhere easier?
Don’t ask me,I’m asexual.
A sexual what?
No just asexual.
That’s bad sign in a man.
Well,I am 97 he said.
Fancy you mending a computer
.He said,I’m stealing it!
,
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An altered version of the joke below
Nikhil Saluja quotes | added by: GreenMonk
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If ‘likes’ are anything to go by my blogposts against legalising euthanasia are about the least popular ones I make. In the past two decades support for legalising euthanasia in Australia has climbed from about 65% to over 80% so I am definitely part of an increasingly unpopular minority, especially among colleagues on the progressive side of politics.
But I’ve never been in the business of winning popularity contests, so this is another post about why I think euthanasia should stay illegal.
I’ll start by spelling out some of the inconsistencies in my own position.
I categorically support the right to abortion on demand, even to late term. The distinction between a just-about-to-be-born foetus and a newborn baby is arbitrary but I am still against killing a newborn no matter how serious his/her birth defects may be. The reason is because the distinction between a newborn and a one day…
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There are many people who think poetry must rhyme.But in fact the most important thing is meter or musicality
I have found some of my early work is poor but it’s better now.But there is so much awful poetry on the net,I only wish people would read one or two articles about poetry or read
_”Poetry for Dummies” or similar works.
One person has paid £300 to have his book published and though the work is heartfelt it is inn need of much editing.
I know the amazed feeling you can get after writing a poem,but it’s a bit like falling in love.
Think of “A midsummer night’s dream” and ponder…. feelings are not the final guide in love or in creation.I am far from despising the work of the amateur.I am not very critical by nature but sometimes I cannot help being astounded by the dreadfulness
People using both Thee and You in the same poem
Using cliches
Using “poetic language” like ” where ere you go” ‘Twas on a monday morning.It’s out of date.
Poor meter.
Never having read much after Shelley/Wordworth/Keats
Never having read much at all except a newspaper…. a tabloid
Now,if you love to write but your work is not worth publishing. it’s still a really good pastime
and a learning experience.But ask someone wise to read it before you try to publish it.Or write a blog and ask for critiques
Most people like and need to have a group of friends.And now on the net we can make friends at a distance by sharing writing and thoughts..However this is not without its risks.I how know that a person who tells you all their problems very early in a relationship is not a good person to befriend.I believe it is better to get to know someone slowly
.A person who tells you about their trauma and trouble is looking for a helper,not a friend.And it is a kind of manipulation.On the internet such people can study your writing for weeks or months and then make a move.
People complain of loneliness when they have a partner and a family and friends.Why do you think you can help them?Are you really any better than their present friends?Are you flattered they tell you this?Beware.Inevitably you will reveal you are a mere human like all others….. and then they will take umbrage and bitterly complain about your lack of sensitivity.Or if you ask for courtesy they will be offended because all they write or say is of course perfect,iIf they hurt you,it is you that is too sensitive…nothing they do can have done could cause anyone pain. So take it slow especially on the net and with people from other cultures.They can drop you from a great height
Just a brief note before my whooping cough returns.Poetry can be just clever playing with words.. or not so clever!But true poetry stems from living and feeling.I shall hope to illustrate this with some examples.Feeling itself is not enough for poetry.The poet needs to transmute the feeling using her craft into something that contains and retains the feelings and passes the result on to readers.Being able to play with words is useful, but not sufficient.Maybe that has to be impregnated with feeling?
I must have had a wish to write.Because for many years ,I studied books on poetry and creative writing.I began to collect images and events which affected me in a notebook.Then one day I asked,When do I write?I had to start, unconfident as I was. Time was passing Here is the first poem I wrote.[January 2010]
CHRISTMAS SNOW:
Too old for cold,I stand, now ,against the hedge,
Watching the snowflakes in the glare of neon street lights.
Darkness has come early,and I think of country uplands and huddled sheep.
On Salisbury Plain,shepherds watched their flocks
Just as in Bethlehem two thousand years before,
And then ,exactly when?
“Between the wars”,it stopped. Now we know there is no “Between the wars”.
And who decided
To cull the sheep and shepherds and the space for kindness ?
Now that same Plain still exists,but banned
And closed to human-kind,
For bombs ,not wombs
Nor for birth of lamb ,nor gypsy child ,nor Saviour
Where would He go today?
_
,s
From the first poem, I can see my mind was wondering if there is any space in the world now safe enough for a creative happening.After I wrote this,I was unsure if I’d get any more inspiration but I did
Here is a slightly later poem
SUN PAINTING
Bright sun
Paints a shadow picture
On the white wall
Dried stems
Of Michaelmas daisies
A leaf caught in a cobweb sways
To and fro.
I gaze.
Silence.
I love the flowers that fall like rain
From the cherry trees ,in the wind again,
And pile at the side of a garden wall.
I love the blossom still on the trees
Full of buzzing honey bees
Like an angel’s glowing shawl.
I hate the fierce wind that blows it away,
Yet I know now nothing is here to stay,
and I love it, and cherish it all.
It reminds me of an East Anglian landscape
This garden’s flat planes of grass give the illusion
Of greater distance,the eye travels down them
To the trees rising at the end.
On this scene my mind superimposes
Other ideas of summer days in hot places
In flat fields stretching on either
Side down to the sea.
My eye enjoys the shape,the flatness
The form,a symbol for so many other gardens
And summer journeys on unknown lanes
Across new landscapes ,delighting in them,
In the space extending,and the trees
A gentle contradiction to the horizontal meadows.
In summer in recent years,what I remember
Is the sun across these long,flat shapes.
Looking at this small garden,I remember
So many things,my eye sees through
What is here,to far beyond
What has passed and what is to come
All afd contained here.
When I was at University I spent 6 years studying mathematics.But I always liked poetry and novels.My school thought I should study English Literature,but to me that was not a creative activity.The way we were taught was to criticize books,plays,poems by many famous writers [mostly men!]
I didn’t want to criticize only.I wanted to write but I never thought I could.I followed my career as a mathematician until my vision deteriorated.I could not read mathematical symbols anymore.Still it had earned me a living
I began going to an Art Class as I wanted to see as much as I could. in case my vision got worse,I was so very embarrassed because all the others were very good whereas I had no idea what all the terms meant [Even for pencil drawing ].I was afraid but I kept going and did learn to look at the world differently.At that time I .I had not got a computer.Later I could not get to the class but did more here at home
I bought my laptop and after some time I discovered digital art.I had no books about it so I just played.I found Microsoft Paint inviting and simple.Later I found Artweaver and Paint.net which I used to manipulate my photographs
I only took photos because by error I bought a phone with a camera on it.Next time I’ll tell you how I wrote my first poems
I like blue
Don’t keep petting me.I get too eggwhited
Why is rain wet?
And top of the bill was the Sinner,Em Blem.
Do you like creative fighting?
Do you hate your food?
What is the joint of the affair?
I love.Amen to that twit.
Join Twatter and swear an oath daily.Free for all.
Eat peas with the stork,please.
Why did the boy stand on the burning check?
I like a man in a mask.
What face shall I put on today?
I wonder who you are.
Don’t tell the truth about your tarts.
How many lovers are a bluff?
Do you like to eat crumbs in bed?Bird needed
I can use Word
How my heart sings 