Month: November 2014

A trusty word dog

Source: K

being a writer is like being a wordherder
words run about like lost sheep on the high moorlands
and I have to catch them and keep them safe
I need a trusty word dog to get them together
and keep them safe.

sometimes they have wandered far away
and I stand forlornly in the fields
then I hear the bark of my word dog
and down the hill a host of words are running towards me
looking pleased to see me.

so then I try to catch a few and shear off their wool
so I can knit a poem out of it all…
there are some wild,shy words
that so far have eluded me
maybe I need two trained and kindly word dogs not just one…

see the words are all running off to hide under a hedge till morning
goodbye words I love them all unconditionally
especially the wild ones
i too like the high hills and the distant blue of the far away edge of the landscape
the haze of summer and the purply moors
the wild blue and the sacred sky high blue
the earth and the heavens and the still something to discover yet.
if there’s an ordnance survey map of this world
I have not seen it yet and anyway
who could have made it?

 

I now believe we is a flea

They gave me a prick in my arm
And said I must keep it quite warm
So I fell into the fire
Oh,how I perspired…
But as usual I kept very calm

It’s meant to protect me from flu.
And vomiting string and from glue.
But it gave me diarrhea.
I can’t say cr*p here.
So please send me or email a clue.

They try to prevent us being ill.
Yet they also advise writing a will.
Do we never die?
Is this life a lie?
Of questions we all have our fill

It’s heaven on earth when we see
That I am you and you’re me.
We’re all potentially divine,
As beer is like wine…
I now believe we is a flea

It’s not that I don’t love you

It’s not that I don’t love you,
only that I don’t want you to become part
of my mind’s furniture
which I sometimes stumble across unknowingly in the dark.

It’s not that I don’t hate you
only that I don’t want you to become fixed
as my resident devil
who’s reponsible for all the badness in me .

It’s not that I want to become indifferent to you,
only that I want always to see you afresh
when my eyes greet yours
and not ignore you as you are always here.

It’s not even that I don’t care about you
only that I want to be unburdened
from the guilt of love
and to love freely when it’s the right time
or not at all.

It’s not that I cannot sing for you
But that I want to sing for others too
when I find my voice
and to sing my own song as the spirit moves in me,
or not at all.

It’s not that you are lacking in any way
only that I need to be alone some days
to digest all I’ve gathered
You know, I am never myself without you,
that’s all.

And it’s not as if we can’t be together
But we’ll be more fully together
when we live our own life
You know I’d never have sung my songs without you
No, never at all.

Stan has a perplexing day

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[Image by my sister]

Stan was standing on a small step ladder washing his windows yet again with a clean blue microfibre and elastane cloth and some windolene he had bought in Tesco’s
I don’t know why I bother,he whispered to Emile, who as usual was watching from the back of the sofa,which he was “milking” gently with his paws.
With all the rain,the outside of the windows was besmirched by leaves and bits of mud.A  wiser man  might have left it alone but Stan had O.C.D which made him very nervous if he failed to carry out certain tasks… so he made use of it in house chores and baking perfect cakes and buns..and in taking  photos of frogs,birds and flowers.Neurosis can be useful sometimes.
All of a sudden he heard clattering footsteps…
Up the garden path walked two women dressed in the latest style of 3/4 length silk cargo trousers with matching blouses, all in a subtle shade of violet.Except for their faces,of course,which were both a light shade of beige and they had Revlon peach blusher on their cheeks with Chanel scarlet lipstick…on their lips.They also wore dark blue nail varnish from Rimmel
“Good morning,Stan!” called one of them.”We are Annie’s ‘s cousins from Pittsburgh.She told us to call on you today.”
“Well,I never knew wearing expensive makeup ran in the genes… can there be any other explanation?”Stan asked stupidly.
“Annie told us we must wear it all the time in the UK.” she responded,”even in bed.”
“You seem a bit fast,” he answered,
“I’m not sure I want to go to bed and as you seem like identical twins,which of you should I bed?”
They burst out laughing….oh,what a strange  noise that seemed to this sweet old man
“I was just saying what she told us,not meaning that you need to go to bed with us.In fact, we sleep together at night.”
“As children that would be normal,but don’t you think you should separate now?People might think you are gay!”
“We never worry about stuff like that… and by the way,this is Ruby and I am Rosie.”
“I’ll put on the kettle and make you some coffee,” the dear and anxious  man said in a kind tone of voice,before he went into the kitchen and swallowed a handful of red and green striped valium tablets.
“I wish the psychiatrist would give me some therapy.I don’t like taking valium but I seem to be having visions again… and I don’t want to get worse..I never heard Annie mention cousins in the USA. I wonder if CBT would help me?” he said to Emile.
“I see visions all the time,” the cat replied in a matter of fact and calm way.
“Do they not make you feel anxious?”Stan called.
“No,I just watch them drift by,” purred Emile.”I enjoy them.”
“I wish these two women would drift off.”responded the weary yet charming  Stan.

Ruby and Rosie came inside and admired the kitchen where colanders in many colours hung from the wall into which someone had knocked a few dozen nails.
“”Why do you have sixteen colanders?”asked Rosie.
“Why do you think everything has a reason?”Stan replied.
“I can see you studied philosophy,” Ruby cried disconsolately as she loved an argument
“No,I have just read Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein eight times,” he quipped merrily.
“Wow,is it not boring?” they murmured softly like two doves in spring time
“No.it’s so good it put me off reading lesser books.And I love to understand things,”
Just then Stan tripped on the rug and fell over. unconscious.
.Emile picked up his mobile with its full Qwerty key pad and texted 999.
“Why are you texting?”asked Ruby.
“Well,it difficult to mioaw down a phone and now I have this Blackberry it’s so easy…. why even a mouse could do it.”
“Do you know many mice,Emile?” enquired Ruby wistfully as she felt very lonely at times
Rosie slowly made some instant coffee, walking around poor Stan ,unconscious on the floor…and she and her twin sat down on some white Swedish chairs at the old oak table and drank it,gazing shyly at the huge weigelia blooming outside in the shed.
The front door opened and in ran Dave,the bisexual paramedic.
“Is it you,Emile.Have you lost your hankie again.Are you sad?” he moaned nervously.
“No,it’s Stan… but at least he’s not broken the chair”
Stan came too and looked up. at Dave.
“Oh, lovely,I feel much better for that nap” he said brightly as he was such a positive person..
“Don’t you have a bed to sleep in?” said Ruby querulously.”I like your mean expression,my dear man.”
“Now,look here said Stan,”I’m too old for any monkey business. Besides,I don’t know if you are real.”
“We just wondered why you slept on the floor.”
“A man has to do what a man has to do,” came the mystifying response.
“Now that Dave is here,he can take one of you and I’ll take the other.”
“Where will you take us”the twins asked delightedly.
“Do you fancy the cinema… they are showing Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday”
“Don’t tell me he’s still on his summer holiday!” riposted Ruby
“Let’s go in the ambulance.I’ll lie on the stretcher” offered Rosie generously..
“I’ll lie by you,”said Dave.” and Emile can drive.Stan and Ruby can lie on the floor.”
Sometimes life seems so simple,it’s rather like a dream controlled..
Controlled by what,asked Emile,clutching his Blackberry.
But answer came there none…
And that was very odd because.. they’d vanished every one…
To read more,why not take out a subscription?At just £100 a day,it’s value for money…as money no longer has any value!

In the box with Father Knox

  • Pray Father,give me some washing.I’ve got Wikileaks and a new obsession.
    Tell me more,my child.I am feeling bored.
    I think someone has been inside my computer.
    They can’t be human. so why worry?
    Why not,Father?
    Well, we are not thin enough to get into the computer.
    Ah, they turn themselves into particles and come in with the current..
    when it’s high tide.
    Do you mean tied?
    No,Father.I’ve not been reading that book.Fifty Blades All Gay
    Neither have I but in the confessional I’ve heard it all and more.
    And how does that make you feel,Father?
    Why pay to read a fantasy when you can dream up your own?
    Some are born dim… others become dimner by choice
    Well,any sins tonight,my dear?
    I’m so sorry.I was planning to tell a lie but I forgot.
    There’s a list of sins in the Missal…have you read those?
    Yes,I’ve not tried most of them yet…  though I just got a slight  pang of anger
    when a brick fell onto my head from a clear blue sky.
    That’s natural anger,my child.but I feel it was odd for a brick to fall like that
    Has a brick ever fallen on your head,Father.
    Not yet but I’m only 97.I must buy a hard hat
    Wow,you look much olde than 97 r.Are you longing to diet?
    Why, is there no food in heaven?
    I wonder who cooks if they eat up food
    Maybe they live on manna.
    Does God eat food?
    That was one topic we never did in the cemetery.
    Do you mean the seminary.
    At my age, they are all one.
    You have reached Nirvana….congratulations.
    Well.I’d prefer a cup of tea.
    You English!
    What are you?
    I’m a great Dane.
    Did you say a grey Dane.
    That too.
    Well perk up;the show’s not quite over till the gnat really stings.
    Do gnats eat string?
    String… it’s my passion.Love it or mate it…get involved.
    Live a little.
    And for your penance… you must have a bath…
    Why?
    I don’t like the way you smell.
    Well,I am a dog.. we like  to sniff.May I borrow your hanky?
    Definitely,I shall dry your tears for you and  please try to commit  few intriguing sins before you come back here.
    I’ll wash it for you.And dry  it out of doors
    Well,it’s not over till that gnat gets its sting and the phone gets a ring

Why we had fights in the UK on Black Friday

In Britain there is an hugely increasing gap between the rich,the professional and the poor.Postmen now have a zero hours contract.Coal mines have shut as have shipyards.There is not much work for the people who were once essential to the country’s economy.They are treated ever worse.
They see tbe same adverts and see how others live.The only ways they can emulate it are by borrowing or by shopping in Sales.The rest of us can choose whether to get a new TV or even a new car.They can’t.Moreover they are attacked as lazy.
Secondly the shops are doing very badly and urgently need to sell more stock.It’s been warm and so winter clothes are unsold and the recession is still not over [another one may be starting].Everyone would like a tablet and children at school are expected to have a computer at home.What do you do if you are poor?
We also have more mothers working.People don’t entertain at home much as it is too much effort.They meet in a coffee shop and most are in or near the Mall.We have immigrants from Europe who tend to go there and not the pub which is where men used to go to.
They see the shops and want some of what they see.
Some of us can avoid Sales as we can buy at normal prices or save our money.
I am certain the Mall can’t do what a Church and a community once did.But it’s a meeting place.Old folk can sit there and watch the world go by or meet a friend
Also there are security guards so women feel safer alone.
There is a place called Brent Cross… a huge mall not far from Golders Green.Many people love it
I saw a joke:A Jewish lady wants to be buried at Brent Cross…. because then her daughters will visit her every week..
.I would like to see fewer class problems and less snobbery.And to see the poor treated well.But there’s little chance of that.And we pay much less income tax now
yet want the NHS to offer expensive drugs….
It’s a crazy society.
I saw the judge in the Mitchell case thought the policeman was too dim to have invented the plebs remark……so even there he is reinforcing the idea what lower paid people are thick,stupid and gormless.
Black Friday was advertised to let the shops sell and stop them going broke…. but leave it for those wwho really need it…
Otherwise for the rest of us it’s almost psychotic to behave that way…what next?

Mary tried to write with a grapefruit spoon:The problems of women and pens.

5230552_f260Mary had a busy morning ironing Emily’s nightdresses whilst the cat lay under the table watching her.Eventually she rang BT to enquire whether a 66 per cent increase in the bill was  normal when inflation was onlty 3 per cent.Despiter her knowledge of quantum theory and dysfynctional analysis she was unable to understand the explanation.Though she did get a slight reduction.

As she sat down at the table to fill in the Accounts Book she realised that instead of a pen she had a grapefruit spoon in her right hand.

This is just the end,she told herself.I need to relax.I am all knotted up like a ball of  string.How can I change my life? Alas  no ideas came into her mind as she sat staring out of the French windows at the grey and lilac  November sky.

As Stan came back from his walk full of fresh air, he saw Mary sitting sobbing by the television.

What’s the matter,dearest? he asked her gently.

It’s all these bills plus the fact that I buy hundreds of pens every year yet can never find one,she said dolefully.

Yes,it’s a bit like the disappearing teaspoons, he said in a reflective tone.I suppose we must accidentally toss them into the kitchen bin when clearing up.I am not surprised so many old folk get paranoia as we like to think somebody else is responsible for  the mess we live in.

And,Mary said,I bought a tablet since it’s Black Friday.But after spending ages trying to connect the camera I found it doesn’t have one.

That’s the downside of trying to buy things more cheaply,Stan said wisely.

I suppose it’s a bit like a religion.Everyone is rushing about buying stuff so we feel we should join in,Mary  blurted out in a manner unlike her usual detached and affectless manner developed as a technique in her job as a maths lecturer.

I think I’d rather meditate in the church than go shopping for bargains,Stan answered.Do you feel we ought to resume our old religion.he asked her pointedly.

Well,you’ll have to give up sinning with Annie, she told him with a  smile.I know i am a bit lacking in that department but it’s not personal to you.I have never felt much interest in sex except with a film star.Perhaps I should have been a nun.Still I do like sharing my life with you and the cats and even Annie…. and we have our daughters too though where are they now?

Are we keeping this little female cat,Stan asked jovially.

Oh,yes.I have already bought her some nightdresses so  she can sleep by your arm at night

.I just hope Emile will not be jealous,Mary said anxiously.

Well.I want a female in bed,even if it’s a cat,Stan told her.I just want a bit of affection.And she seems not to be a scratcher.Emily purred loudly as she had been starving since her owner Jean had moved into a retirement complex where animals were forbidden although they do allow fleas and bed bugs we are  told.But who wants to sleep with a bug ? They are unkind and nasty little creatures though God must have had a plan for them.He alone knows what it was.

Annie was standing outside wearing a red corduroy outfit and a purple woollen hat. and matching suede leather boots.She tapped on the window and Mary went to open the back door.

Would you like some tea,Annie,she asked  her politely.

I’d love some.,was the answer.I have made some shortcake with real butter in it and  she pulled a large bag of biscuits from her large leopard skin handbag..

Did you make them,Mary enquired courteously.

Yes,I decided to begin to buy fewer things in the shops and I use less sugar.Did you know your brain and heart need some fat?

No,said Mary.But I know the brain contains a lot of fat… so we must need it and butter is delicious as well.Maybe I shall make something but I have a lot of ironing  with the new cat.

Surely you don’t iron the cat,Annie shouted. in horror

No, it’s just she likes pretty dresses,Mary called.Come here Emily, she carried on.Emily came out from under the table wearing a white denim skirt and a pink blouse…. and a red hat.

How can she climb trees, asked Annie.

Well,all these clothes are machine washable.And she has no shoes on so  she can use her claws.Anyway she doesn’t go out much as she hates the cold.I suppose I could get her a goodesdown parka…

I think some jeans would be better, or jeggings.. with a tunic  top.How about a headscarf too now it’s winter,Annie murmured softly

What a problem it is for cat owners.Should they put their pets on a fixed allowance or let them spend whatever they like with their own credit card?The two  women were  soon deep in thought while Stan went and made some nice hot tea.We all need a man now and then… even if we don’t have one of our own… maybe we can borrow one like we do with library books.Now that seems a good idea.

Stan would be shocked at the thought he might be avaiable on loan from the library but it would make him feel wanted and useful and give him an insight into the women of Knittingham and their unique ways.And that might help his marriage or at least give them something to talk about.

The end of the tale

When my voice trembles

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When words no longer work

wonder

wish

want

When words won’t come

compensate

contrive

When my voice breaks

snaps

sunders

strains

When I want to talk

touch

tenderly

towards

But you are not able

about

abandoned

absent

You are no longer

listening

live

longing

When I need to find a meaning

In the shape

form

structure

But I ‘m stranded

Stuck

Sucked under

Swallowed up

Then I reach out to you

I want your touch

tenderness

tranquillity

temerity

Sometimes words don’t seem enough

endless

empty

emotive

ejaculatory

Yet words can console

conjure

quilt

charm

captivate

cover.

Stretch out your hand

across the emptiness

and touch me with your fingers

friendship

faithfulness

forgiveness

frailty

fever

touch my heart with words

and I will hope

expect

await

be grateful

grave

garbed in joy

When words don’t feel enough

When all we want is touch

Or to see

sigh

sob

sing

Words can be shaped

changed

contorted

controlled

challenged

Words are all we have

To make us love

To make us live

To make us alive

To make us sing

To make us stand up

To console

words are

just enough

“Their beauty has more meaning” by Robinson Jeffers

  • 1b1fe-6398833_5094dd0aac_m

    http://www.patheos.com/blogs/daylightatheism/2008/03/poetry-sunday-xi/

    Yesterday morning enormous the moon hung low on the ocean,
    Round and yellow-rose in the glow of dawn;
    The night-herons flapping home wore dawn on their wings. Today
    Black is the ocean, black and sulphur the sky,
    And white seas leap. I honestly do not know which day is more beautiful.
    I know that tomorrow or next year or in twenty years
    I shall not see these things—and it does not matter, it does not hurt;
    They will be here. And when the whole human race
    Has been like me rubbed out, they will still be here: storms, moon and ocean,
    Dawn and the birds. And I say this: their beauty has more meaning
    Than the whole human race and the race of birds.

The Abingdon White Starling by Mike Flemming

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

This is written by an old friend of mine and contains some beautiful photos inclcuding one which looks like an angel

New and excessively strange definitions of mental illness

gAlliums

http://www.offthegridnews.com/2010/10/08/is-free-thinking-a-mental-illness/
.
This is somewhat disturbing except to flowers and weeds.The article explains how more and more character styles are defined as mental illness.. like children being disobedient.Then therapy and drugs descend
Thomas Szasz says the term mental illness is a metaphor as there are no blood tests etc for any mental illness.It is between you and the psychiatrist.
I would accept there are many psychopaths around as we read about former Ministers in the press.But alas there’s no treatment for that… escept getting them to emigrate.

Taking a bite out of nature…….

Stunning images

SwittersB & Exploring's avatarSwittersB & Exploring

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”

John Muir, The Mountains of California

mountain+bite+desert-mojave-SwittersB-nature-photography

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Rules for this ward.Kindly obey or face a ticking cough

[Photo by Mike Flemming.Copyright 2014.]

Please do not fall over after rising from the bed.

Please sit down on your chair and not the consultant’s knee.
Kindly do not tell the doctor he is stupid.He knows already and it’s genetic.
The doctor is only a pest sometimes.So act accordingly.
Kindly pretend to listen to the Consultant on his round.He is human.
Kindly do not eat cream buns  or meringues in front  of the Consultant.He is on a diet.
Kindly avoid catching any bugs belonging to or emanating from this hospital.
Please do not swallow your Kindle Fire before lights out.
Keep yourself clean.Take a bed by the open window during a storm.
Kindly avoid dying when we are busy.Wait for a  better time to go.
Kindly do not write verse  on your sheets unless in water soluble ink
Kindly recover before Friday as we are shutting for the weekend
Kindly write poetry on paper and not on your arms and legs.
Kindly do not copy these rules down.They are our secret.
Kindly keep all you hear secret.

Arched like a fallen moon

Old man,bending over,
arched like a fallen moon
in a dark lilac November sky.
joy and pain wrestle my heart across the emptiness
and toss it up like a damp rocket
to fall in a hidden corner where mice live.
Would that not be a good ending,to be dust
to these little creatures nesting
in my chewed green twine and my tartan basket?
They have eyes and shiver in my hand when I rescue them
from the cat…
as any heart might.
Now night falls on the newspaper basket
where the damp Times and the Guardian mix into glue
and tomorrow the sun will rise
and it will just be the garbage
with no poetic undertones nor deathly hushes..
Heather and a silver light
you stand on a hill top like a god
looking over his domain.
Strong and now weak
it’s the humane condition
Everlasting life is too dangerous for humans.
Silent,motionless,home of beetles
bit by bit we fall away
into the mother soil
with cracked jugs and dropped coins
for a future academic to dig into.
Transparent hand touches me.
Who are you?

When God laughs

You muat visit this writer’s site.

johncoyote's avatarjohncoyote

When God laughs

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

"

I read Jack London book today “When God laughs.” It is a amazing book.

"

          Quotes and words from a amazing writer Jack London and friends.”The gods, the gods are stronger: time Falls down before them, all men’s knee Bow, all men’s prayers and sorrow climb Like incense toward them: yea, for these gods, Felise”
Harry Cowell
“That is she! Holy as love, and sweeter! Just a woman, made for love: and yet-how shall
I say?-drenched through with holiness as your own air here is with the perfume of flowers.
Well. they married. They played a hand with the gods-”
Jack London”
How to keep the flame-winged lute-player with his dumb eloquence of desire? To feast him was to lose him.
Their love for each other was a great love. Their granaries were overflowing with plenitude: yet they wanted to keep…

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Stan went down town to buy needles and other unlikely reminiscenses

cat looking

On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-otherwise wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs he had bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself.
Now what shall I wear.? Stan thought over-anxiously.
He had O.C.D now and then… depending on what was happening in his lifw
People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense.
The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few colored shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
He chose a coral colored shirt and looked in the mirror..
I look wonderful, he thought very humbly.
Why has God kept me so youthful?
Surely not so I can seduce more women?
We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?
Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us.
More haste,less speed,he conjectured.
Or is it, More waste,less feeds?
He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush
He looked again narcissistically at his image.[I sure can spell.]
His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter.
His dark hair looked very full for his age.
His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner,
Jason Weizzmen-know-all
And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown.
His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham.

6010299_f260
As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile
who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo!
Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely.
I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long,
If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop.
Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.
At least I don’t wear make up!
Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume?
Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.
More taste less greed.
What does that mean?asked Stan.
If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less.
Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop.
No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered.
I want to go high,high.
I want to reach the sky…hi.
what will I do when my love is away
Will I be happy on my own?
Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song
I’ll try not to sing out of tune!

My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you?
I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast.
Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.

At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready.
I wonder if I’ve got body dysmorphic syndrome,he conjectured emotionally
At the bus stop there stood Annie their neighbour.
Hi,Stan,where are you going.
I’m buying sewing needles for Mary.
I can lend her some,she shrieked.
Well,she has to use special ones nowadays.
Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?.
Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal.
Who is normal?
Let’s just assume we will recognise it when we see it,he whispered warningly.
This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt.
I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone?
Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them.
Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis,They should let them sleep here.They are so cruel.
Anne shouted in a fury.
No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded.
Very true,she replied,
As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it.
This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse?
A goat would be ok.

Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung..
Over the page to Fly.

Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick.
At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out,
You both look very merry!
Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warninigly.
Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated.
Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe?
Why? she murmured,I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully.
Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested.
Your wish is my command he muttered,
I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s on elsewhere.
He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again.
Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus.
As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back to the terminus.
But we want to go into town,every one howled.
There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver.
Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here.
Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver.
He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss.
Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress.
Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth?
I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time.
Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea.
Hello! said Mary.
Did you get my needles,Stan?
I’m so sorry,Mary.I’ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town.
And where is my supper.
I’m afraid it’s still in the womb of time!
I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast.
But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well.
So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were soon drifting into a light doze.Going down town is such hard work nowadays.

Stan wants to go to a class

5329053_f520Stormy weather

Stan was thinking of going to an Evening Class.He had got a brochure from the public library on Saturday but there was not much in it.As he was sitting in his conservatory brooding restlessly over this he saw a looming shape pass by.It was Annie his neighbour wearing a big rucksack.
“Annie,you are usually dressed in a fashionable and stylish even modish manner.Whence the rucksack?”
“Oh,well,you’re out of touch.Rucksacks are the new handbags according to Prada.”
“Is Prada that young lady who has just taken the flat over the florist’s?”
“No,you nincompoop,Prada is an Italian Fashion Company”.
“I think Prada would make a good name for a cat or Prado if he was a male cat.What do you think,Emile?Would you like to be called Prado?”
“Definitely not.” miaowed Emile loudly.”Prado is too full of consonants for me.I don’t like saying “P.”
“He sayeth not P but doeth it,just as the Prophet foretold” Stan murmured merrily to Annie.
“What are you doing?” she asked him pointedly.
“I’m choosing an Evening Class but there are not many on offer.I wanted to learn Pilates but maybe I’m too old and stiff!”
“We could go to a private class in the Conservative Club.”
“I can’t go in there,not even to learn Pilates.”
The doorbell rang.It was their local M.P. Andy Pandy.What a shock.
“Good evening,Sir.”
“It’s only 10 am,”Stan said rudely.”Wait I want to record your words.”
“Why is that?”
“I may be able to sell them on-line.”
“Oh,no.That’s unlikely.I’m only a glove puppet!”
“That wasn’t what you said before the Election” Stan whispered to him.
“Well,I didn’t realise then.I thought I was a human being.”
“Like David Cameron?”
“Yes,only I don’t speak as poshly as he.”
“But do you think he is a glove puppet too?”
“Yes,definitely.I’ve seen the Hand that manipulates him.”
“Why don’t you leave?”
“I have thirty children to support.”
“How come you have so many?”
“Oh,it’s quite easy if you have plenty of lovely lady friends and …”
“I’m talking about responsibility.You are a member of the Establishment.”
“Well,once I was a rebel.But a Famous Rebel will eventually be knighted.”
“So I’ve noticed.” {He’s thinking of Sir Michael Jagger who is 68 plus]
“Why was Lucian Freud not knighted?Surely he was a deserving artist.”
“He was more of an Observing Artist.He Observed what he shouldn’t!”
“What was that?”That very large people are beautiful like rocks in canyons and caves.and the Queen looks like an old East Ender.”
“Do you think she’s partly Jewish?”
“Well,everyone in the world has a little Jewish blood!”
“So the Queen does.Does she know?”
“Well it doesn’t matter whether she knows.I’m just interested.After all she’s the Head of the Anglican Church, a branch of Christianity,so as Jesus was 100% Jewish it would be an advantage to her.She might be a distant relation to him.”
“I never knew Jesus was Jewish!” “Oh,yes I remember now.And the shepherds with their flocks….was that not here in England?”
” No and King Herod wasn’t English.Herod’s never been a very popular name anywhere really.But you know everybody in the world is probably slightly English.Just listen to them talk!They all speak the lingo.”
“But what about that song “Jerusalem” by Blake?”

“Was not Jerusalem builded here,in England’s green and pleasant land?”

“He was speaking in symbols or metaphors.”

“Why didn’t he learn English? Cymbals are just for banging.”
“Well, he was English!”
“He was crazy.That’s typical English trait.”
“Yes,we love eccentrics.”
“Do you know any?”
“Not as such,no. But I’d love one if they lived next door”
“Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard that.”
“Well,Annie is a bit eccentric.Stan thought.”She’s murdered her husband and seduced me in front of the wife.No,she’s just got borderline personality disorder.I wonder who invents all these new mental disorders.Maybe I could invent some.”
“Well,the mind doctors need to earn money.”
“True…. send them to Afghanistan.Then we’ll see who has PTSD!”
“Now,there’s a thought!”How about David Cameron for starters?”

Lose weight the new way by having a nervous breakdown

4349475_f1024

Having a nervous breakdown is not  pleasant but at least you lose weight  as terror sits on your abdomen .So the government is asking for new ways to induce breakdowns  in the public as it will prevent heart disease and diabetes.So far they have already caused two men to starve to death by docking their benefits… still they didn’t go to A and E nor have heart disease and they are already buried so no more benfits will be paid out.
As the mental health services are so bad, you will need to pay for therapy or break into a pharmacy.You will then be put in prison and hence lose more weight as the food is bad.
To help the government,you might be able to induce a breakdown by studying the economic situation,worrying about your children and not eating much.And watching TV all night… that might do the trick.Or try shopping on Cyber Monday and at Xmas.
On no account try to get better as they will force you to work free removing the insides of chickens as the chickens run along a conveyer belt… it’s cheaper and more hygienic not to kill them first.Is it Christian?Well, is the government Christian?

Going to church/synagogue does not make you anything,it’s your deeds that make you what you are plus what you say too.And what you write.. and email as they are actions as well.How you treat others.
Would Jesus have asked us to starve people to death to save the rich?
It’s bleeding obvious,my friends.Yet the callme a bleeding heart liberal.

Raindrops on toast

He told me he loved me before time doggone.
His hands seem to bewitch my me and sigh deeply.
He was the most gifted blogger of his  entire veneration.
His words were like raindrops on toast.
His talent was watchless.
His behind was unique.
His eyes gleamed like traffic signals stuck on” Go”
His writing was the toast of the down
He never told me his game.
He told me I was named in his kill

He said he had fun when he went mad,

Mercy

Even near a busy road,
Flowers bloom as well as they do in lonely gardens.
They show us the meaning of generosity
And determination, despite their vulnerability.
Live like a flower
Die like a rose.
Rise up in springtime
As the sap flows.

If you feel depressed

lit-up-hands

Avoid visiting places that ask you to copy captchas…..it’s better to call a friend on the phone

and see if you can talk.Talking is very therapeutic if it’s a person you trust.You can talk about  a book you read or recipes.just having a good conversation is therapeutic.

Alternatively write a poem but avoid illustration…art is too much trouble.Just put down  a few words.

CAT SAW

I AM

HERE

SHE WANTS MILK

OH,DEAR.

I DIDN’T MEAN TO RHYME

BUT THE WORDS JUST CHIMED.

You see,anyone can do it… just like Modern Art.

Better still,iron all your clothes.. and your bed…and mend all those torn dusters…

Use your hands.Feel someone…

A stitch in time makes  a rhyme.

Does time need a stitch?

That will give us food for nought

Be good

If God had to rest on the seventh day,she must get tired.And if he can get tired then he might get depressed.Especially when she looks down on us here all fighting,squabbling and showing envy,hatred and malice
So,for God’s sake
BE GOOD

Words and images

My sister is learning by copying a Lowry.Can one learn to write a poem by copying? Yes,copy the rhythm of a song or a ballad.That can be a help to start you off
My sister is learning to psint  by copying a Lowry.
Can one learn to write a poem by copying? Yes,copy the rhythm of a song or a ballad.That can be a help to start you off

At the end of my first few months of writing,and on New Year’s Eve 2010 ,this was the poem I remembered best and want edto share  then

If you prefer images to words I have put one of my sister’s first paintings here to show what a beginner can do

The theme of this poem is one that is very important to me.Actions change when vision changes.Actions are changed most by Imagination,not by force or will power,Actions change by seeing from a new perspective.

In a trivial way,sitting on a different armchair in your sitting room can be interesting if you usually sit on the same one.But don’t sit on Pussy’s favorite chair or she may scratch you!She will see you in a new  perspective as an  invader sometimes go outside in the dark, and look into the sitting room through the lit up window.I always find it more interesting and beautiful.I’d like to peer into other people’s windiws but they might get the wrong idea which is the right idea

These poems are my gift to you

They flow from my perceptions

I write them to discover truth,

And my preconceptions.

I write because I see and think

More deeply than I knew

And seeing is the first step

To imagining the new.

Changing perceptions changes deeds

Without the need for force.

Find out your hidden dreams ,and look.

You ‘ll speak with your own voice

Words

WORDS STROKE MY MIND

A peaceful place to meditate

Words mark the page and stroke my mind,

And sentences are words combined,

So,many brushstrokes make a shape,

And round my mind the sentence drapes.

Words from farthest realms of mind

Are drawn to me by this design.

And,look, they brighten in the sun

The picture forms,my work is done

We can control our reactions if we decide to do BEFORE an event.

  • Young_Woman_Sewing_1870
    Thomas Couture painting

    I have discovered I can control my reactions to something irritating or bothersome but only if I decide to do so before I begin.t’s not a tight holding on to tension but a refusal to become tense/ or a way of avoviding becoming tense.
    The easiest illustration is that owing to my vision I can’t thread a needle.But I am unwilling to give up mending my clothes,sewing on buttons etc.I
    I got some so called Easy Threading Needles.They have a little opening at the top through which you pull the thread into the eye of the needle.But it’s harder than it sounds.When I pull on the thread sometimes instead of going into the eye the thread snaps.So I begin again.It usually takes me about 15 minutes but I always stay calm.I find it a tiny bit annoying when I am doing what I did last week.

    I was wearing a skirt which is very full.I like it because it has 2 pockets which is very ,unusual nowadays.I realised the hem was coming down.But not how much!
    When I took it off I found the entire hem has become undone.I began to hem it and as it is so full the circumference was large.I guess it took me 2 hours because I had to keep rethreading the needle…I felt peaceful.
    Now I have some darning to do but it’s a smaller job.I find sewing by hand soothing.I know I have more sewing but I can’t remember what it is now!No doubt I shall go into town and then realise I have something undone…
    When I was walking down the road one day I realised my coat was inside out!!It’s fun like this and my other odd habits like singing  songs in the street unknowingly that keeps me going.Normal,bah!
    I am hoping to extend my refusal to let annoyance or distress get to me to a wider sphere than just threading needles.

It can be our scars which hold us together

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One reason I recalled this thought was because someone I know is terrified of having a cataract operation.Without running someone down for being afraid,nowadays this operation is very short.As it is the lens in the eye which is damaged the surgery does not go inside your eye.The lens is at the front.
But don’t criticise yourself if you are afraid because the eyes are near the brain and anything happening there causes an instinctive revulsion.I nmost cases it takes about 15 minutes for the op.
Why I know about this is that I have,like Gordpn Brown,suffered from detached retinas.The right one was severe and I had stitches in my eyeball when I woke up.They were underneath my eyelid so felt painful.Despite this at best I could read onlt one letter o n the chart used for eye testing.Now I can’t read any at all.
Luckily the other eye was not as bad.The treatment consisted of making wounds on the retina with an ice probe or a laser.These wounds scars,The scars hold the retina back in place.So I can see because of the scars.
My only problem is the jelly in the eye split in two so I see the world with a black line horizontally across everything
I imagine that many more new techniques are coming in.But don’t moan about a cataract operation…. just watch out for strange flashing lights and unmoving grey spots when you look out… then go strai.ght to an eye hospital.Don’t wait at all.I was blind in one eye in 4 hours from the first synptoms.I had no idea.
Still,it’s fascinating to me that surgeons actually create scars which help people like me to see.
And I wonder if as a symbol it may have wider application.
After the year of recovery [ the eyeball is deformed by the surgery for one year]I decided to go to an art class and then took up amateur photography… to create memories for myself.Then I got a computer much against my own wishes.But it turned out to be a good idea.

We call it love

I run my fingers tentatively down your cheek,
asking you a question
with my eyes.

looking at each other,

you touch me too.

This is my skin
my boundary.

Yours is thicker,
like rubber.

I run my fingers down your chin.
what is this little bone?
I like it.

I like your skin

I like your bones.

I like you.

you please me.
you are tasty.
I like your taste,

your skin,your eyelids.

I like your eye here,
and your other eye .

Nice one!

I like the hair on your head.
May I touch your hair?
do you like hair?
Hair makes me laugh.

I have a fondness for laughing.
I love to laugh.

I enjoy laughter
I love your laughter.
If not, smiling is good also.
Or a gleam in the eyes,
showing the inside smile,
the smiling heart.

I like your inside,
Outside
and possibly
your backside.
your upside and your downside.
your side sides.

I snuggle you all around with soft wool.
I knit you into my scarf.
I’ll have to wear you round my neck now!

How unusual
How flexible.
How charming.
How alarming

How creative
How interesting.

What an idea!
what a notion

but you are too big for me to knit
So I’ll just touch your hand
with my fingers.
and you touch my hand
with your fingers.

What good hands we have
with such fingers.

fingers are for touch.
fingers are keen to touch.
I like touch.

what would we do
without fingers?

I like your skin.
skin is good
We love skin
We love.

We.

I want skin to be ours
and yours
is mine
and mine
is yours

where is the edge of the world?
skin has no end
it’s infinity
au naturel.
what order!
what design!
What wonder.
what awe.
where is the world’s skin?

tenderly we touch the world
as the world embraces us.

It’s called love.
Love.

It’s called love

Don’t delete your bad photos

  • insect bite_n
    Bite on my leg

    When I say bad I mean when your hand shook or the photo is blurred.
    I say this because I have found such photos can be very good for using digital art software on… sometimes far better than your top photos… something about the nature of the image is good.. blurring contains some different shades of colour.
    And photographing things that may seem odd like an insect bite on your leg can give a good basis for new images.Of course,when we think we can see the blood running out has a shape similar to a river estuary;because of the way fluids run.The fact that a leg is much smaller than a country and the bite is much smaller than the sea… it doesn’t matter.. you can get very interesting shapes.

    Bite on my leg
    Hand
    My own hand

    I am no authority on art of any kind but these are ideas from ways I have found images which please me