Month: March 2014

I wear my heart

I wear my heart displayed upon my face.
Attentive readers find their meaning there..
Where feelings thought too deep to be embraced
Can shine demurely where they do not scare.

As Freud observed we’re never quite disguised
Betrayal is our body’s real motif
The message comes conspicuous from the eyes..
Bright sparkles or your tears of blackest grief.

The answer to a question seemly leaps
So Yes or No is visibly revealed.
The blush that spreads so fast across the cheeks
Both bold and shy unable to conceal.

Your face tells me you lied when “Love” you wrote.
Yet let us part with song as we are poets.

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He was my epiphany

Loose in the fields of green…
Oh, my own lover!
He was such a bold flirt;
with his love unclaimed,
he could recite George Boole
he was one of the old Cool.
He never reached his goal.
so with my bling and some flair
I hoped he’d open the enchanted bud
To the music of his lyre.
I’ll pray this for him:
T hat he should find what he wreaks
and write it down with a stylus.
Really he is the allurement of angels
He was my epiphany
Make it up, as the clocks clang..
It’s not really you…it’s just an affliction.
I can do nothing for my calves
It’s because of all the punning I did once.
I can’t even lump a stone over a wall now.
My arms are as weak as Trojans.
I never suffer viruses to be declassified.
Like I said,just wink and say a prayer..
In God we dare

Poetry

 

Image

Poetry, I think, intensifies the reader’s experience. If it’s a humorous facet of the story, poetry makes it more exuberant. If it’s a sad facet, poetry can make it more poignant.

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/humorous.html#DhGxIoZ7uJkpjkLP.99

Word 2010: Differences with Word 2007

Rhonda's avatarCyberText Newsletter

A couple of months back I wrote a post on my first impressions with Word 2010, and a few weeks after that I mentioned some excellent videos on Word 2010’s new features made by TCANZ.

I’ve since used Word 2010 some more, and have jotted down some of the differences between it and Word 2007, as well as some other new features I found (some of which are the subject of separate blog posts).

Except for the File, Word Options and Help sections, I’ve arranged these according to the order on the Ribbon.

File

  • Yes! Thank you, Microsoft, for the return of the File option.
  • File options are clear and easy to use. Some excellent user assistance is available with each option, particularly the Print and Save and Send options.
  • Document information is useful.
  • Finding your own templates is much harder as they are stashed away under a…

View original post 889 more words

Hail brave butterfly

 

Iced water falls from the sky in beads

Just leaving space

for fragile butterflies to court between the drops.

The geometry of love

fits any space

The butterfly is braver than the tiger

 

On barren ground

 

When you struck me,I vibrated like a kettle drum,
then as smaller percussions and repercussions
echoing from all the glassy surfaces
creating a balletic geometry of sound tracks
in space and time.

When you knocked me down,
I fell against her and her and her;
we were like a row of skittles
and we all went down with the lifeboat;
The infinite chain of being is.

When you hit me,the Fall spread across the world
Now there is no Vertical
All is undivine and graceless.
By the Rod it’s ruled

When you left me,I left myself,the world,the rocks,dry land
I weighed down sank to the ocean bed
with coral eyes
gazing.

When you struck my mind
I became an instrument of a foreign power
Singing a song I didn’t know.

When the glass was smashed
the splinters flew into all our hearts.
You didn’t know what we couldn’t see.

I lay on barren ground and gave birth
To my own Creator in the desert.

And,on the world, shall I bestow my wrath?

Apples with blue and greenWhen true love’s gone

              and doom hangs over head,

When life runs like a river to the sea,

Then, shall I take new lovers to my bed,

And with their carnal touch consoled be?

 

When true loves lie and break my woman’s heart,

When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path,

Then, shall I my life of evil start,

And, on the world, shall I bestow my wrath?

 

When true loves lie and wreck all loyalty;

When puzzlement makes all the world seem mad;

Then I shall upend causality

And let myself do deeds which make me glad.

 

For I have love’s own child inside my soul

And I shall tend her till at last  she’s  grown

A kind review of my poetry on “Dancing with Fireflies”

Intriguing poet

kushtrimthaqi's avatarkushtrimthaqi

“Very good natured and extremely sweet, Kushtrim and I laughed about my silly mistake and I actually spent some time looking at his blog.  Kushtrim didn’t write just one amazing piece, but many pieces that have a beautiful flow and melody to them. I have stubbornly claimed not to like poetry, but I am hard-pressed to find anything I don’t like about his work. Not to mention, upon meeting him.. his peaceful heart flows from him into his words. And I have to admit it, I had a fangirl moment.  I was a little scrambled and hopefully he won’t hold that against me.”

Here you can find the complete review Dancing with Fireflies

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My own Creator

When you struck me,i vibrated like a kettle drum
then as smaller percussions and repercussions
echoing from all the glassy surfaces
creating a balletic geometry of sound tracks
in space and time.

When you knocked me down,
I fell against her and her and her;
we were like a row of skittles
and we all went down with the lifeboat;
the infinite chain of being is.

When you hit me,the Fall spread across the world
Now there is no Vertical
All is undivine and graceless.
By the Rod it’s ruled

When you left me,I left myself,the world,the rocks,dry land
I weighed down sank to the ocean bed
with coral eyes
gazing.

When you struck my mind
I became an instrument of a foreign power
Singing a song I didn’t kmow.

When the glass was smashed
the splinters flew into all our hearts.
You didn’t know what we couldn’t see.

I lay on barren ground and gave birth
To my own Creator in the desert.
He was not dead at all.

Did you kill him?

Wind dismays the flowering rose

 
 
 
 

Apples hang low near the ground.
robins chirrup all around.
sun on glowing maple leaves
gives a red glow that deceives.wint

Autumn air is flowing near,

though it’s still bright summer  here.

wind dismays the flowering rose
as with arrogance it blows.

Leave me one flowerfor my eyes.
Leave me roses,as I sigh.
Leave me not my dearest one.
Soon enough we shall be gone.

What remains is love alone.
If your heart is not of stone,
Fear not sorrow,fear not woe.

Into this earth all must go.

 

 

Heroes

 

Odysseus travels across the nuclear seas

 

In  March madness. Where are you dear stranger?

 

I lost you to a computer , now I weave my web

 

To tempt you home .Eastern zones where people scream

 

In silence are   not the place for your journey.

 

Oh, timeless zone of wanderers ,send him back.

 

I love this green eyed stranger ,this star angel

 

From above. He shone like a crackling nuclear reactor

 

As we walked along the edge of the world,

 

Where  the  seven  seas roar endlessly.

 

Are you Hamlet’s ghost?

 

Could Shakespeare write your tragic story?

 

We have no stature now,leaning into the laptops

 

Talking into the air, like people trapped in hidden ellipses

 

We stare out, unseeing. We listen but hear nothing.

 

Where are you ,my  stranger. The sea boils in anguish.

 

I await you ,the  unseen, the unknown.

 

 

Mary gets wooed

Mary does maths and gets a boyfriend

Abstract on lemon
 
 
 
Source: Kathryn1000

Stan was polishing the door knocker with Duraglit.

Mary was upstairs working at her desk reading an article on

algebraic numbers and sorting out her post.

She got an instant message from a former colleague in the maths

Department.

Hi,Mary.how are you?

I’m fine,Tim.How are you?

Well,I really miss the department!

I’m sorry.

Actually Mary,it’s you I miss.

But you hardly ever spoke to me.

No,but i looked at you.You are very beautiful.

Well,you are very handsome.

You know what I’d like?

No.

I’d like a photo of you in your underwear.

I haven’t got any photos!

Can’t you get some?

Well,I suppose i could use my webcam and photograph my top half.

Oh. how nice!

Then i guess I could sit on the photocopier and photograph my bottom
but I don’t think I can do them both at once.

How about you go  to to a pool in a bikini?

I don’t wear a bikini.

I don’t mind if you are nude!

Well,I am a bit startled by this.I thought all we shared was an interest in quadratic forms.

Well,I’ve moved on to your form,Mary.

Well,you know I have Asperger’s Syndrome.

I thought he looked lonely.

Do you know him?

Not in the Biblical sense!Just to speak too.

I thought he was dead.

Not at all…he’s turned into a parrot.Meanwhile how about some minimalist photos?

No,,you’ll have to meet me in Cafe Zero.

Which one?

In Knittingham.

Will I recognize you by the bikini?

Why do you like bikinis so much?

I’ll see what my therapist thinks.

I want to know what you think.

I love you,Mary.

Well,since Stan has Annie I guess I can have coffee with you.
Then we can discuss Platonic forms.

While I look at your form.

Is that my Health Form?

No,your bodily form.

I have no body now!

What happened/

I’ve been downloaded into the new computer.

I thought your voice sounded odd.

Shall I email myself as an attachment to you?

I’d like to think about that.

Well.goodbye Tim.

Goodbye,you little minx.

A minx…what next?

Bring me your minx,dill,dilly

Bring me your inks

when I’m in love,dilly,dilly,

I love those links.

 

The Brain Has No Nerves That Feel Pain

Really intriguing form

Mike's avatarFugitive Fragments

A brain has no nerves to feel pain
so medicos rest their case here
the hypocrites of Hippocrates
engrave this in stone as fact.
At a laboratory in my mind
a sample of cerebral cells
are observed to divulge
Emotional destruction
Grey matter inchoate
Ugly scabs blistering
Dendrites damaged
Synapses smashed
Neurons numbed
Stasis shattered
Reflex wrecked
Cells severed;
of ego or id
not a sign
Just pain
of love
gone
by

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Stan in prison,as it were…

 

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When the aged man Stan and his shy,pretty, blue eyed and brainy wife Mary arrived at their local “hospital” in an ambulance, Stan was carried into the Resuscitation Room and was lying down on a trolley…… which is like a bed with wheels. How did I get here? he asked God, who was on a shelf. None of the staff answered.Nor did God.Fuck off said the UK and the world
A nurse came in and gave him some oxygen but she didn’t bothjer to wash his bloody face and hands…the nurse said they were overworked that day with all the usual drunken English folk falling off buses or off pavements or arguing and hitting each other with beer bottles and then they moan about immigrants
After another four hours a doctor came and looked at the weary old fellow.
I think I’ll order a CAT scan for your head. he muttered nervously,as if talking to a spirit.
Oh,My cat,Emile, is not here,Stan informed him.
Shall I get my mistress to fetch him?
You have a mistress as well as a wife? the doctor asked curiously.
Yes I do,You should get one,Stan said.They are useful when the wife is at work.And it’s a very honourable position for a widow who is bored.
I think that’s immoral,when your wife is earning all your crusts,said the doctor cruelly in a very sharp and sarcastic tone..his eyes shining with demonic glee.
I don’t mind,said Mary cheerfully.After all,it gives him exercise and stimulation.And I can do my research peacefully.I have always thought the French had the right idea about love
You can say that again,said Stan!
The French had the right idea about love!
How about Revolution?
I don’t think we could handle a Revolution,said the doctor in a kindly voice,his mouth drooping slightly with fatigue.
After Stan had his CAT scan they had to wait patiently for two hours for the result….the scan had to be emailed to a Consultant elsewhere,that is… at home by the TV
The CAT scan area was shut except for emergencies and had an eerie emptiness which contrasted oddly with the crowded noisy Casualty Department.Two men of different colours were arguing loudly in the Scan area.
Mary knocked on the door and told them off,much to the delight of the porter.
Later Mary phoned Anne, her neighbour and begged her to bring Emile her cat to the hospital in a large zipped bag… with a breathing space.
Anne arrived after only ten minutes or so,colourful in a teal outfit and orange lip gloss not to mention her pearly earrings
Emile put his head out of the unzipped top and said,
What a strange smell this room has.. is it TCP?
Stan was very glad to see Emile. Anne went out and got Mary a spinach and mouse sandwich and some tea. She helped Mary to keep Stan comfortable with glasses of water, bottles to pee into, tissues to mop up the blood from his hands and face…no doubt this is well known to many of you.
Several doctors too many came in…separately .One told them Stan had fractured the bone under his right eye.
Don’t blow your nose,Stan. Your eye might come out…
Wow, they don’t soften the blow ,do they said Anne, her face pink with the over heated air of the
A and E ward
How far out would it come? enquired Mary scientifically
Her long, pointed face creased with worry .But none of the staff answered her.She felt as if she were behind a glass window where nobody could touch her or help her to decide what to say.
Mary advised Stan gently,
Just blot the end of your nose, honey ,if it runs. You’ll be alright with me here.
Though his eye looked very peculiar to her.
Another doctor came in after six hours and informed old Stan he had confusions in his brain.
See a psychiatrist, Stan told him rudely. Why tell me?
Emile hid his head inside the bag.
I am going to ring a neuro-surgeon, don’t go home till I get back he ordered Mary bossily
Another doctor told them Stan
should see an opthalmologist..
Mary began to feel sick…and the first doctor never came back.
Perhaps he’s fallen into a black hole, said Anne foolishly as she reapplied her orange lipstick and powdered her ample bosom and cleavage with Yard;ey#s pressed powder.
Stan mewed musically to tease Emile.Emile purred as loud as possible…he enjoyed purring very much.
At midnight the staff nurse advised the women to go home as Mary would have to be admitted to the Cardiac Unit if she stayed much longer….. her face was as white as a newly washed goat’s underbelly.
They went off in a minicab but left Emile under the trolley on a small shelf from where he chatted to Stan and operated a recording device… to spy on the staff
Stan grew more and more tired, lying all alone…pity they don’t have a lying in nurse nowadays!
Why,I feel as if I am in prison, he told Emile…I want to go home and go to my own bed…
Me too, said Emile…I have a new girlfriend called Jenny, he went on.
I look forward to meeting her, said Stan.. and he fell into a dream where he was surrounded by lovely female nurses in pale pink uniforms all smiling at him……..if only it were true.