Month: April 2014

Avoidance can be a grave error

I went to the doctor today

I was full of pathos and terror

I was ignorant of what he would say….
but avoidance can be a grave error.

He looked in my eyes with an egg box
He took my blood pressure and weight.
He said,have you seen any clocks?
I said,yes,but I ain’t only seen straight.

He tapped on my skull with a teaspoon
And remarked that my head sounded hollow.
I said,well there’s plenty of room
for all the ideas I  will follow.

He heard my pulse buzzing bee-like
And asked if I kept my  heart still.
I said,yes,it has a few flea bites…
but it disobeys the commands of my will.

He said, we must give up our egos
and trust in the great dark unknown..
And attempt to give money to beggar
As by our dried fruits we are known.

As far as my health goes,I’m perfect.
I’m average,ideal . I’m  the norm.
But in everyday life I am perplexed
As all the old rules are long gorn.

Thank you for crossing my hands,dear.
II need all of your silver and gold.
Love in its depths wipes out fear.
But don’t believe all you are told

Now speaks the sacred earth

Now speaks the earth of spring and all its joys.

Now flowers and blossom soothe our  lonley eyes.

So happy are the lovers,girls and boys,

As in the  daisied meadows they may lie.

 

Now speaks the sun and makes us  want to grow

to open like the flowers for his love

To let the life within us start to flow.

With  blessings sent down to us  from above.

 

Now every part of nature is in flood

Fresh leaves point down from trees to holy nests

The birds are active in this little wood,

And dwelling on the tree branch breast to breast.

 

Oh let’s not waste time brooding on our thoughts.

For we may miss the joy which spring has brought

 

 

Love

 

 

All love at first, like generous wine, 
Ferments and frets until ‘tis fine; 
But  when ‘tis settled on the lee, 
And from th’ impurer matter free, 
Become the richer still the older, 
And proves the pleasenter the colder

Samuel ButlerImage

And how I held you for a moment

Image

 

How white and blue together recollect us
to the summer sky and the imagined swallows
darting in exquisite geometry
under the great domed space of the heavens,
like the Basilica in Constantinople
containing and giving space.
And how I held you for a moment that was infinite
and then you were gone like an angel fearing enchantment
into some finite boundaried world

Lunacy, or Mind Freeing Emotions: a lens

aldussault's avatarFree Association on the ego and the self

Having studied at a Freudian Drive institute, Carl Jung came up very little in the classroom conversations about dreams or spirituality.  Freud did not write as prolifically about dreams, and certainly his writings did not gain the wide spread influence that Jung has had on the dream world.  Nonetheless, both forms of analysis emphasize the importance of the unconscious.  For Freud, dreams were the royal road to the unconscious.  For Jung they may have come from the same source, but they were meant as portals to the soul.

In our day and age, I think it is fair to categorize Freud as an ego analysis and to characterize Jung and a spirit analysts.  Again, I caution, you will probably find just as much similarities and differences between these two men, certainly at their earliest writings they had a mutual admiration society going between them.  Sadly it turned into brotherly quarrels that were…

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May the fire not burn you

Standing close together,but not looking

We lean forward touching foreheads lightly against each other

Eyes closed

Tenderly we graze

On the other?s smell,skin,softness.

I feel your heart beating

As it it were mine.

We lean for a few more moments like this.

Wordless.But everything else speaks

Holding the broken places,with love.

Then we turn and walk away

Yet those moments last forever.

Foreheads touching,

Skin on skin..

Our boundaries.

You are another subjectivity

A real person

Wanting nothing but everything

I see your smile.

You were with me

And now we go our ways

On our own journey.

One meeting of souls

Remains a blessing forever

May you be blessed

May the fire not burn you

Nor the water drown you

May the Lord keep you always near him.

Forever blessed.

I release you.

What a surprise

She
Dr Range-Rover asked Mary for all Stan’s details to facilitate his upcoming surgery.By now Mary was feeling worn out as she#d been shopping in the morning for Stan’s birthday present and some groceries.She really preferred morning appointments but with hospitals you get little choice.
Stan emerged with the nurse looking pale and wan.All she had done was to test him for MRSA..Mary picked up her bag.Suddenly and dilently Range-Rover crossed the room.
What’s that on YOUR nose? she barked at Mary.
Oh, yes, my glasses have been rubbing.It’s painful…Range-Rover picked up a dermatoscope which has a very bright light on it and placed it on Mary who was too surprised to move.The consultant thn invited the trainee doctor to come and take a look and they discussed the details of what they saw in front of Stan and Mary like two scientists who have just had a breakthrough.
You’ve got cancer,she informed Mary.Go to your GP soom,well you can wait till after Easter I suppose.You need a referral before I can have a go at you.
Stan turned even paler and looked angry…
Mary stood up and then collapsed by the door of the small room.Dr RangeRover picked her up and pulled a chair forward.
Sit down,she cried.She looked extremely worried.
How will you get home? she asked nervously.
In a cab,Mary told her…
Range-Rover looked even more worried as she was realising that she had crossed into Mary’s Sacred Space and broken her boundaries without asking her,at a time when Mary was possiblt anxious about her husband and feeling weary
..It may be common assault.She meant it for the best,we guess but surely a consultant should have some perception.Was she perhaps unnerved by supervising a trainee dermatologist?Alas,she refuses to comment…
As they walked out Stan said he wanted to go on the bus.Mary was too tired to argue so they sat at the bus stop in the sun waiting for their bus to come.
Or perhaps a ship would come in…and take them far away

Threads of gold

 Doodling


A heart pain woke me from my sleep.
Inside my soul there was a gap.
I tried to make it disappear;
To delete it from the map.

But still the ache persisted;
I tried hard to forget;
Till I sat down in my garden chair,
And stayed with my upset.

The sun may shine,
the birds may sing
But that to me
no pleasure brings
Because of my regret.

As I sat still upon my chair
To me three Angels did appear,
And they are with me yet.

They took my heart into their care,
With golden threads they are sewing there,
Until the work’s complete.

My task is just to sit quite still.
And let God’s angels do His Will,
As I sit  here at Her Feet.

Breathing

 

 

pixellated pink flowerI hold my heart gently;

your heart too.

Waiting for healing.

Slowly breathing in

the calmness of the trees.

And the cracks are gaps

through which grace can enter

as I open myself to the spirit

which passes all understanding.

From one hour to the next

Far from the madding rowdy crowds
with peace I long to be.
Away from noise and music loud
My soul desires to pray.

As palms were waved  and smiles blazed free
Jesus came to town.
Yet soon a different sight they’d see…
And hear the deathly groans.

From joy to woe we humans pass
From one hour to  the next.
For sins and troubles do harass…
And  impure hearts are vexed…

Yet we are told that in the end
Love will outdo death..
And so we beg for grace to lend
To us the strength to last.

Wanted

LC3_3811An edible chocolate life sized  man or octopus required by hungry lady who  finds eggs insufficient.Please send well wrapped to avoid breakage en route.Must arrive by Sunday next.Will eat kindly

Giraffes need not apply but will eat if desired

The pagan Easter

I hate writing limericks and rhymes
And I am a sadist betimes
So I inflict my terror
On short words like “error”
And always write straight off the lines

We celebrate the pagan Easter this week….
On google put “Easter” and seek.
The Passover was changed
and false worship arranged..
To make English Pagans feel bleak

We’d soon do that which men and women can.

The rain fell and the clouds hung overhead

As I walked on the moors to meet my man.

If only we had access to a bed..

We’d soon do that which men and women can.

 

The sun was absent anf the trees all bowed down

The wettest winter for a hundrd years…

Yet full of love ,my face displayed no frown…

My heart was  brimming,absent any fears.

 

Th moon too was watching as I ran

Her silver crescent pierced the clouds like joy.

I could not wait to meet my loving man.

And with his lips and face I longed to toy.

 

But when I reached the spot where he would be,

Nothing waited but a fallen tree

Trust the dark

Trust the unknown force that grew you,
From the joining of two cells.
Act of love, of self giving,
Thus to grow a newer self.

Trust the dark,the unseen aspects
Of the life we all do live.
Trust that there is wisdom elsewhere,
To your emptiness to give.

Wait in patience for the time
When inspiration comes at last
Trust in darkness,silence, lowness.
Oppostion forms the cross.

Pain is bearable in lowness,
Like the worm in earth I dwell.
When I look I see the sunrise
And I trust all shall be well

Please pass over soon with a helping foot

This love’s a disgrace to me and all women
Love’s a wanker  singing a duet with himself
I love you less than I love a sheep’s eye or a pigsty
Far more than your words distresss me,your body is a blot on the landscape of life.Are you ready for erasure?
My head is winning over my heart so run now while you have a chance
My heart is aching to believe you have gone for good,bad and are now indifferent,
My heart sings to a new tune.. I hate you., it cries
My heart must have lied about you so now I am a suspect in my own murder.It’s just  a plot for a new novel
My heart is a bony lump now and it’s turning to stone
My heart is very ashamed of loving such a pair of nuts.
My heart gave a bad start after you shouted and swore at me.Get out at once and shoot your foot then shoot your other foot
My heart is hiding in a burrow with Alice in Wonderland
If my heart is in my hand I’m dead.Howzat?is it not cricket?
I now believe my heart is a liar and my head is in charge from now on.Let’s use some iintellectual intelligence
My art is fiery and I smoke.I’m a dragon and I’ll kill you if i meet you.You know who you are.May you soon pass over like a grey cloud in a stiff breeze and water someone else

As fast the river flows

  • Oh,John Joe was a farmer’s son

  • He lived up in the hills

  • When he went to tend his sheep

  • He saw the cotton mills.

  • The rivers ran with water pure

  • And so provided power

  • Yet over these dark ruined towns

  • The heathered hills did tower.

  • Mary was a local girl

  • She walked out on the moors

  • She wore a dress of silky cloth

  • Printed with small flowers.

  • John Joe saw Mary

  • When he was dipping sheep

  • She peered over a dry stone wall

  • And saw the new lambs leap.

  • Her hair was long.Her hair was gold

  • Her eyes were sapphire blue.

  • In John Joe’s eyes she was so fair

  • What was a man to do?

  • He watched her walking all alone

  • Was she sad or sick?

  • He showed her how his dog behaved

  • And showed her shepherds’ tricks.

  • So one day,he held her hand

  • As they walked to the Pike.

  • They stood up there and gazed all round

  • So John thought he would strike.

  • He bent down on his right knee

  • And spoke to Mary then.

  • I’ve loved you Mary since we met

  • I hoped we’d meet again

  • Mary smiled with her blue eyes;

  • Her lips were pink and bright.

  • I love you too and love the hills

  • And. love the summer light.

  • The next year they were married

  • Mary wore white lace.

  • She looked so happy then

  • To know she’d her own place.

  • The church bells rang,the people sang

  • John and Mary wed!

  • And naturally, when evening came,

  • At last they went to bed.

  • When Mary lay in John Joe’s arms

  • She knew this was her home.

  • And so for many many years

  • On the hills they roamed.

  • They cared for sheep and hens and goats

  • They cared for children three.

  • They never had a falling out…

  • But talked beneath a tree.

  • Fro youth to age the years went by

  • But John still loved his bride.

  • And Mary too was happy

  • With John Joe by her side.

  • Their faces,lined, were full of cheer

  • Their hair as white as snow

  • And everywhere that JJ went

  • Mary too did go.

  • Until the day came for his death

  • He lay down in the grass

  • Mary ran and held him close

  • And thus dear John did pass.

  • The muffled bells rang from the tower

  • John Joe was carried in.

  • The parson prayed and hymns were sung.

  • The sheep dog made a din.,

  • In the dark earth John was laid

  • and Mary wept and cried.

  • what will I do now,my sweet John ,

  • without you by my side?

  • So Mary grieved and wept and sighed

  • And thus she spent two years…

  • The loss was great and bent her back

  • with the weight of care.

  • For when we open up our hearts

  • We feel both joy and woe.

  • This is tha pattern of our love,

  • Which like the river flows

 

Borderline impersonality disorder.. the latest mental disease

Feeling testy? Feeling nutty?

A new illness is sweeping across the borders of Britain.Have you got  it?

Take this test.

1.If someone asks you the time in the street you
a] Swear at them
b]Tell them to eff off back to where they came from.
c] Make a rough guess because you are afraid they will see your Rolex and mug you.
d]Look at the nearest sundial.
e]Say you have no idea but ask them to come to Starbuck’s with you.
f]Look at your watch as it’s from Argus.. so you could even give it to them!
g]none of the above.
2.Someone at the bus stop asks you the weather forecast.
Do you
a]Say:why don’t you look on your Smartphone.
b]Smile vaguely and say you are meditating.
c]Say :Can’t you afford a newspaper?
d]Say you never listen to it but you’d be happy to discuss Wittgenstein,Countdown,Strictly Kosher or Come Dancing.
e}Pretend to be deaf.
f]Tell them to submit to the will of God.
g]Say:Can’t you be quiet,I’m saying the Rosary.
f]Glare silently.
3 Do you always refer to yourself as “One”
e.gI f your partner asks you a question you say
“One might think you couldn’t read.”
“One might believe that,sometimes”
“God has not told any One.”
4} Are you evasive?

 
So if someone says.Where’ve you been,you say,
It’s none of your business,even though you only went to the Newsagent.
Evasion may lead people to think you have something to hide.If you do then use a different defence..
“Oh,I was just taking a few photos in the park.”
“I went to the library but saw nothing that appealed to me.”
I think you get my drift now.If you don’t you may have
Borderline lack of mind disorder [BLMD
.Don’t worry if you can’t read between the lines.Just read on them or around them.

From Riemann to Schrodinger:Cats in Modern Physics and in the Unconscious Mind

In her new book Dr.K. Purselthwaite  takes a long cool  and  ironic look at the influence of cats,and  the cat archetype on the minds of mathematicians and theoretical physicists  in the last 190 years.Lavishly illustrated, with pictures of Riemann’s cat never revealed before.An analysis of the dreams of towering figures such as Paul Dirac,Werner Heisenberg  and  even Ludwig Wittgenstein reveals how Uncertainty  arose from the minds of these tormented geniuses to become a cornerstone  principle of Quantum Theory,The link between cats,witches,hatred of the feminine principle and the development of the nuclear bomb is drawn here in a subtle,delicate yet powerful way.Publication date is uncertain as yet.Preorder available we expect..Price probably unquantifiable  but it will be  in the  spectre’s  range  for books of this genre

“The evil that men do lives after them”

New photos of British Birds by Mike Flemming of Oxfordshire

Visit Mike Flemmings website where he has new images of birds not to mention butterflies and flowers.I enjoyed looking at these last night… a turtle dove and a grebe took my eye [ not together,of course!]

Don’t miss these photos

http://home.btconnect.com/mike.flemming/birds7.htm

You are a notorious and naughty person

Image

You are a notorious and naughty person
You love both cursin’ and swearin’
You look like a crane.
Bei mir bist du shayn:
Because you’ve still got your hair on.

You have eyes like pools of  spring rain,

with a certain proud disdain.

Despite woe and pain,
Bei mir mist du shayn,
Because you’ve still got your brain

You have ears like small plates.
And you guzzle like a goat
Your hair is a mane
Bei mir du shayn
Because I liked how you wrote

Perverse and presigned

A few weeks ago I wrote about my way of writing.I can add to that a few lines.I wrote this in Word online which is part of outlook..Sky drive etc.Then I copied it and  put it into my other blog.When doing that I felt tempted to alter lines 4 and 5 which were

some even texted

so now i write verses which rhyme.

Then some imp got into me to change that into

some even pretexted

so now i’m perverse and pre-signed…

Every time I move some writing I want to change it and play with it. so sometimes it seems like nonsenses.Is that why some poets are thought to be crazy I wonder?

LC3_3831

 

LC3_3462

I used to like writing long poems
I loved to write free without rhymes.
But my readers objected
Some even pre-texted
So now I’m perverse and presigned.

I wonder what it’s like to be a writer
As I sit by the fire on this tomato..
I’d like to understand
where poets keep their hands
Do they grip their mind tighter and tighter

If I go

Image

If I go I won’t tell you.
I’ll just disappear one day.
Like when a cigarette ,which seemed so long,
suddenly has become smaller
and you never noticed it
because you were talking
about the meaning of life
while life was somewhere else
blown away with your smoke
into the sky
and then dispersed
never quite visible again
but still floating on the breeze
hoping to be caught
in a butterfly net
but unable to communicate
except by flying.
If I go it will not be today
but it will be an ordinary day
no one will realise
that it’s that day
that the bird flies
from her nest
to go to a new place
only seeing the deserted nest
he realises,
my bird has flown

Oh,John Joe Brown,you were my man

Oh,John Joe was a jolly man.
He was the one for me.
He had ten fingers on his hands,
And always on my knee,

Oh,John Joe was my husband dear,
He slept upon my bed.
He had ten toes upon his feet,
No man was better bred.

Oh,Dear John Joe did pass away,
Whilst he lay on the grass.
And now ~I have no one aside of me,
How slow the night hours pass.

I love John Joe with all my heart,
I’ll never love a man
The way I loved my dear John Joe.
I don’t believe I can,

I read a twenty dozen books,
And went for therapee.
But all I want is my John Joe
In bed aside of me.

Oh come back John,Oh come back Joe
Don’t you leave me here.
Oh,John Joe I can’t live without
MY husband lying near.
Oh,life’s so simple,life’s so clear,
We all need work and love,
I have my work cut out today
A grieving for my dove
.
Oh,John Joe Brown,you were my man.
I’ll not have any more.
I wish I lay within your arms
Were oft I’ve lain before.

I’ve never lain wi’ noone else
And never will again,
If I can’t have my sweetheart John,
I’ll not have any man.

Oh,come back John,Oh,come back Joe
Don’t lay down in the grass.
I’ll bake thee cake and mutton pies..
So sweet the hours shall pass.

Uncontrollable passion

We have no Observer todayLC3_3921
Oh,dear what a calamity!
But reading it’s like a prayer
So I always do that with alacrity.

I usually read all the letters,
And check on the leaders’ acuity.
I admire the bright crossword setters…
As my mind is a nest for vacuity.

As always I check out the fashion
And advice on my sex life and organs
I am too old for unconrollable passion
Or to have sex before work in the mornings.
..
I suppose we could get laid after dinner…
but the big death is more and more likely.
I remind God we humans are all sinners
In the hope he will let me off lightly.

Well,do you think loving’s a sin now?
Are wars and killings more virtuous?
Or how about beating one’s brow?
Being saintly is even more tortuous.