Mary was feeling a bit off colour.Then she found a scary looking thing on her neck…
Stan,she moaned,come here!
What is it my duck.Stan cried.Are you alright..
No,Mary replied,I just looked in the mirror.
Well,dear,you still look young to me,the dear old man replied… still I suppose it must be hard for someone who was o nce very beautiful.
No,it’s not that,she responded faintly.
What is it then?Did you see Satan?
Not directly,she told him gently… but I saw this funny looking thing on my neck…
Have your lovers been biting you,he enquired caringly.
Stan,I have no lovers.
I find that hard to believe,he replied.
I am your wife,she told him.
Are you really?I forgot…Well,if you’d like a lover I am ok with that.I am getting past it.
Well considering your behaviour you have not got a leg to stand on….
Mmmm, he murmured,I am a man,you see.
I know you are a man… I married you for that reason.
How kind.If I went in for a sex change op,how would you feel?
How would YOU feel she said.They won’t be wasting money on that any more.Why you have to wait 6 months for cancer ops.
Only if it is a “non-worrying cancer” which nevertheless
” must be removed before it invades the nearby structures” they reminded each other.
I am wondering if this thing which you claim is a love bite is in fact a cancerous lesion…
I know.I was wondering.And they’ve not done the first yet.
I think we should see the doctor.
I want to do more than see him.I’d like to speak to him.
What will you say?
Hello,you are my doctor,are you not?
That’s a bit pedantic..
Take a decco at this thing on my neck,which by the way is not a result of having sex with a vampire.
Do you always decide what to say before you go?
No,I usually write my concerns on a sheet of paper and hand it to him, being as I am a disordered avoidant personality.
That’s a good idea as he hates people rabbiting on.
Does he?
Yes,he told me off for asking how he was!
How he was what?
That’s just what he said.I say, are YOU the doctor?
Just because two people say the same thing it does not follow that they are the same person.
But it is a strange coincidence… is it not?
Well,I suppose I’d better ring the surgery.
Hello, we are closed right now,Please go to Hell.The doctor has gone mad…
Did they really say that?
No, he can see you at 11 pm tomorrow in the woods…
I can’t wait…
Well,said Emile,you will have to wait.That’s what you always tell me…
Emile,you are a very intelligent cat.
Thank you miaowed the furry beast in a jolly voice.
May I come to the doctor’s with you.
Wait and see,said Mary rudely.I have a lot on my mind . I am getting too irritable . I might upset somebody.
A lot of people get irritable when stressed,said Stan
Yes, cats do as well, concurred Emile.. then they scratch holes in the carpet and gnaw the furniture….
That explains a lot,Mary said.I think you need a tranquilliser,Emile…. even cats can have nervous troubles…You may need therapy if we can afford it.Then you can study mentalising and read Peter Fonagy.What fun that will be,not.
Day: September 4, 2014
Feeling blorgy
If you store plenty of words in a word freezer you will be able to write a poem or letter very rapidly.Alternatively,you can store some dried words in polythene bags in a cupboard and add some moisture like tears to them when you want to write.This gives you some information about our era; that we spend time now,preparing for a fictive future and if you do store words they may be out of date before you use them.
The best way to always have words at hand is to read a lot of novels and poems.Even reading newspapers can teach you new words.
You don’t need to make an effort to recall them.Your mind will remember the ones that are for you.
You might try inventing words.I have done that but I’ve not kept a list.Sometimes it’s for fun; sometimes it’s to fill a space..
I am feeling blorgy today.. I feel like writing a blog with a guy but could also mean having a blog orgy…. could we do that?
We did have a blog tea party once but having an orgy could be tough at a distance…Still,who knows? Keep me informed,please.
You recall a song,feeling groovy.. well put blorgy instead of groovy!
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The looking glass is truth
NoteI like the idea that we are healed when we see ourselves truthfully
I think it’s odd that we pay psychotherapists to tell us our defence mechanisms and self deceits,but we don’t like it when friends point them out,free,without charge.I find religious imagery is useful to a poet as a metaphor
Poem
God’s Son was here on earth.
A young girl gave Him birth.
His words remind us of our worth,
Give hope of heavenly mirth.
He brought the gifts of love-
To cure our bad eyesight.
But we don’t want to see,
To have the painfulness of light.
We love our flaws without knowing,
Even when the effects are growing.
We rage when someone points them out,
We’d rather stay in dark and doubt.
Than have our weakness showing
But when you seek advice
From someone kind and true,
They tell us that our hearts will be
Healed when we can bear to see
The mirror’s total view,
The looking glass is truth
It’s painfully acquired.
But, oddly ,when we face the glass,
A transformation comes to pass,
And our souls change from black to gold,
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“This Being Human is a Guest House” – Rumi
This is a very interesting blog
Mixed media titled RedSeaMoon by Jo Ann Brown-Scott copyright 2014
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some monetary awareness comes, as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
RUMI, 13th Century Poet and Scholar
Sometimes I wonder how I would have managed to paint if the context of my life had been different…if things had been less to my liking in my life, would I somehow have struggled to rise above it and paint anyway? Would I still have been a painter, or maybe even been a better painter, if I had been forced to deal…
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How I became an amateur poet and artist on the Internet.Part3.
I love color very much.I am profoundly affected by it
One of my nieces was at University doing English. Literature Thinking of my past life,I suggested she do Creative Writing if it were possible.It was.She wrote short stories for her assessments.During bad winter weather she was unable to access her computer at the University. and read her notes.When she did she got writer’s block.I sent her some ideas from my notebook and she manages to complete her assignment and got a First.One of my notes was about seeing a woman whose husband left her.She was recovering and was out in the snow with a big dog on a lead pulling her forward!
…And one day I thought,maybe I can writ too.So I started to try to write more frequently.As I have some health problems and disabilities I find it very satisfying to do creative work.And I am happy to get criticism because it helps me.Some of my early poems were good.Some were not.Here is a strange one I wrote in 2010
But first,thank you,Helen ,my niece,for helping me to begin writing.And thank you to the folk on my first blog who encouraged me so much. Thank you to my brother and sister and others for reading me on Facebook,I take all the blame for the flaws in my writing! I k eep editing but it’s hard to know when to stop.
DIRAC’S CATS :NONSENSE VERSES
I dreamed I rowed in a large pea green boat
Accompanied by seventeen cats.
And across the Great Lake,without a mistake
I saw mountains of gentleman’s hats.
I was making no waves in my effort to move,
The cats were discoursing on geometry.
I looked in the mirror fixed onto my boat,
The moon spoke entrancing Theology.
“I wonder who’ll help me”I thought to myself,
When I saw an entire spectrum of men–
Dirac, Archimedes,Niels Bohr, with their theories.
I got my great inspiration just then.
I need seventeen physicists,that’s one for each cat,
All tied to my boat with a chain.
The force they exert will just compensate
For the magnetic attraction of rain.
Paul Dirac came up, and I looked into his eyes,
They were full of anxiety and pain.
“I am sorry I am unable do what you wish,
But my father never taught me to swim.”
“That is perfectly alright”,I politely replied,
“You can walk on the water instead”
So that’s how my boat and its cargo of cats
Were accompanied back to my bed.
When I awoke the next day,I was filled with dismay.
I saw that Paul Dirac was gone,
With the cats and the boat,of which I just wrote
And I was now completely alone.
I took a quick look,in my old physics book
And there was a photo of Dirac
I stared at his eyes,and I am not telling lies,
He threw me a very strange look.
I caught this strange look,it’s here in my book.
I am saving it for a special event.
When I gather more Data on Relative Quanta,
I’ll understand just what Dirac meant.
The digital art came later.And even later my stories about Emile the cat and Stan his owner.You can see a few on my blog
How my heart sings 