Month: July 2015

Is it stronger to be cruel

hunted  to hunter,no surprise

see themselves in victims’ eyes

want to heal, they want a cure

inflict suffering,can’t endure.

build new walls, recreate the past

cannot wait,must do it fast

relive history in the now

can’t escape,don’t know the how.

evil passes like a gift

race is offered to the swift

why do humans live like fools?

is it stronger to be cruel?

soon we too  must be away

life is over in a day

but while we live let us perceive

we have selves  and they deceive

The art by Elizabeth Bishop

Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

– Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop

The creaks of loving:Stan gets a surprise

 Cracks in the pavement 3

A surprise

Stan and Annie have been having such a lovely time since Mary went off.Stan has quite given up his addiction to microfibre cloths and polishing the windows.He and Annie can now make love at night and go out for trips in the day time.
Emile’s diary is getting quite full although he is worried he may bebanned from sleeping on the foot of the bed soon as he may be in their way.How will he know what they get up to?
Luckily there is a gap at the bottom of the door so he should be able to see them in the mirror opposite the bed.They usually light the bedside lamp so as to see into each other’s eyes.
~Annie is a very bold,confident woman.Despite being rather plumper than is medically advised she loves her body and lives happily in it now she has true love.
One morning Stan goes down to make some tea whilst
Annie comes to.
“Stan,come here quickly!”
“What’s wrong,my little lamb chop?”
“I feel sick!”
“Was it those old sausages we ate up last night?”
“No,it’s a different sort of sick!”
“You don’t mean………..?”
“Yes,Stan,I’m afraid a miracle has happened!”
“But you are 55 and I’m 90.Surely we can’t have a baby!”
“Well,the ways of God are strange.” she murmured.
“I don’t want to bring God into it.” he riposted.
“Are you not pleased we are still fertile?” she asked
him humorously.
“Well,in the abstract I might be but in the concrete it
could be awkward.” he said furtively
“What do you mean?”
“Well,Mary will be coming back in a couple of months,you
know”
“We don’t have to tell her you are the father.I could
pretend it was the new Vicar at St Andrew’s”
“But he’s gay!”
“Not many men are able to resist my charms and skills.”
“I can believe that,”Stan answered lubriciously.
“But will you have to seduce him soon before he notices
you are pregnant>”
“I wasn’t thinking of actually going to bed with
him,”said Annie with a smile.
“Oh,dear.I was looking forward to that,”Emile murmured
under his breath.
“That would have made my diary into a best seller.”
“Gay vicar seduces middle aged harlot who is now
expecting.”
It sounds a bit like the old Bible stories except they
had no vicars in those days.But miracles like older
women bearing children did happen so…who knows?
Stan and Annie got dressed and went into the kitchen.
They were both looking confused.
“You don’t want an abortion do you?” he enquired
tenderly.
“No way.” she replied softly.
“I love you so much,I could not wish for more than to
“In that case,I’ll tell Mary.She is a very wise woman in
many ways,though a bit lacking in the earthjer side of
life.She has not slept with me for thirty years or
more.”
“Perhaps she thought you were too old?” said Annie.
“No,she never enjoyed it.She just put up with it as she
wanted a baby.”
“Maybe you did not turn her on!”
“I did my best,but she preferred reading Proust and
“I wonder of she has Asperger’s syndrome?”
“Well,they do find social life trying but I suppose she
can’t blame you for loving another?”
“No,she’s very broadminded.I’ll suggest we all move in
together.I’ll divorce her but she can have the big
bedroom and we’ll have the guest room with the en
suite.”
“I think this will be fun.”
“Well,not all of it but it will be intriguing,”
“So no need to seduce the Vicar,then?”
“We’ll leave him out of it.He might fall in love with
you and then what would happen?”
“God only knows,”She answered humorously as she went
into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.
Read more about this next week or it may be too late!

At any time

I planned my life in seven parts

the first is when the story starts

i thought I could use  my will power

and plan my whole life to the hour/

but one thing I was blind about

Until the lights were going out

The end may come at any time

in the middle of a rhyme

i might just  begin one line

with a perception very  fine…………….

but life is fickle and unfair….

where?

the end may come at any time

How an underwired bra saved a life

IMG_0286I wrote a post attacking underwires but then I saw they can save your life!But probably not in the UK

This is from Wikipedia

Accidents and attacks[edit]

There have been several cases where the underwire from a bra has helped deflect bullets or other objects, saving the wearer’s life. In 1996, the underwire of a girl’s bra helped save her life when she was impaled on a railing and, according to hospital personnel, the underwire from her bra probably helped deflect the spike from her heart.[53]There have been multiple incidents where bullets were deflected by the underwire of a woman’s bra, either keeping her entirely from harm, or directing the bullet away from the heart to another part of the body.[54] One such incident occurred in 2004 when a stray bullet shot by a member of the Ghetto Boys hit the narrow metal wire in Helen Kelly’s bra and was deflected away from her heart.[1] In 2008, a robbery victim was saved from being stabbed in the chest when the attacker’s knife was caught and deflected by the underwire of her bra.[2]

See also[edit]

Worries

Photo1150

Radio Three is the station for me

As I shiver in bed with my tea

If  once men  made me hot

I’ve completely forgot

I might as well hug a large tree.

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My husband was excessively warm

Why his hands almost made my skin burn

He was  so affectionate and kind

He helped me to  unwind

When my worries seemed like a hailstorm

Don’t part without me

Please part without me.
Don’t regret your work.
My sword is in the wand.
Never make a promise.
Never delay your sorrow.
My work on earth is almost fun.
I pray each way twice.
Always take a penny in case you need to play a visit.
We have to pay as we wee in Euston.
They call the holy phone tariff,Pray as you go.
Is it cheaper to call God on a weekend or  disaster?
He spoke my heart.at sight
He will never say ” Worry”.
If you delete his comment he will make you prey to every grief in the world.
Did you ever read a look?
He said he read between the pines.
He is too sad for this girl.
If someone has a bad rabbit what ought they to chew?
He gave me dyslexia.So blind of him.
None so kind as those who bill not me.

He had  such a  perfect witch.

Under the lines

highlighted hand 4Pass  water on a dot?         I can’t relieve you,my dear.You need a pot.
Do pass the fluck to me if  you can beware to.You pig!I know your tart of man…be off.
He passed  on the shit by letter.Uttering crap was his lust.He just couldn’t stand himself.Still you love them,you hate them….it passes the flame.He has an electric wanket
  He passed  me with flying dolours….once a Catholic,always faintly guilty.In my case I  truly passed out with flying colors.You see,the red knickers were half price…no-one else wore them.I don’t know why they were  ever made, and no maid should have worn them.I was always out of the lurch of normality,if you grasp my scheming.I had a hare brain  and no mind to speak to except my doll with no head… it fell off,unlike mine,that’s china for you.Potheads are a bad ideaPlease read under each line today?????????????
To take the path of least consistency is hard for mathematicians but post-Go numdel it’s just one more hurdle
Play as you go where no man has been before.. into a launderette?
  His lips paid me such service,no-one since has matched his adroitness,yet he never knew my name…I was just one of a number of girl he loved in rotation… we were almost a constellation and definitely a consolation to each other united by hatred of the one we loved
  Pray for the riper woman  to be given a compliment
 I  just do not know  how pray through the prose.
  If he were not a man,I’d call him a bitch
Never wear pearls before wine is offered
Like two  pleas on an i pad in court.
  Wheel the onion with a running tap to stop your eyes running off
Can I  put a pencil in your orifice?
They gave us a penny for each thought we had thunken.I remember it so mistily as I never knew thought before.I was an intellectual virgin at that rhyme

.But in some sense such a meadow no longer exists.

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W.H.Auden wrote a wonderful poem called “Look stranger on this island now”Look ,stranger on this island now.
The leaping light is leaps yet.
Standing silent is hard what with all the mobiles
And the traffic.
Something is making me sway
But it’s not the sound of the sea,
It may be the distant sound of bombs.
I may vomit.
Here at the edge of a field
Lie people killed so some other people
Can have a better future.
The chalk wall is collapsing into the foam
Not to mention the odd earthquake which

Wrecks the East.
Nuclear.

My heart quakes because I love you,
And I’m afraid you prefer the computer.
And all this comes into my mind when I stare
Across the horizon.There’s something wrong.
We are standing on the edge of an English meadow
In spring.But in some sense such a meadon
No longer exists.

Look stranger on this island now.
Delight is stll possible,
Is it probable?
The foam at the edge of the waves
Leaves a white curve on the sand,
I walk through and remember you,
Even though I lost you.
You were tall with green eyes,
And you died of computer news overdose.
I miss you so much ,and the world in your eyes
I want you to tell me, where are you?
Here and there,we remember similar stories
Of heroes returning from far away battles
But the battles are here
And the heroes have departed.
I remember Odysseus and his journey.
But like the green meadow
We have no soul for that,
We’re on the edge
And waiting.

A fallen tree

The rain fell and the clouds hung overhead

As I walked on the moors to meet my man.

If only we had found a heather bed.

We’d would have done what men and women can.

The sun was absent anf the trees all bowed down

The wettest winter for a hundred years…

Yet full of love ,my face displayed no frown…

My heart was full,and absent any fears.

The moon too was watching as I ran

Her silver crescent pierced the clouds with joy.

I could not wait to meet my loving man.

And with his hands and face I longed to toy.

But when I reached the spot where he would be,

Nothing waited but a fallen tree.

In summertime I love to meditate

How sweet to sit among these luscious trees

Protected from the sun’s too powerful heat

To hear the distant humming of the bees

And for our loving eyes to swiftly meet.

In summertime I love to meditate

to count the breaths as I receive the world

To be united with all beings in this state

The flags of joy are light and soon unfurled

These summer days are long and filled with light

Though storms may come and fill the sky with rage

Small birds then gather for a sudden flight

As I write sentences across this page.

For every season has its light and shade

And for such states we humans are well made

Still racist in the UK

I

PasqueFlower2In my entire life so far  I have been physically  attacked three times.That is not counting all the things my brothers did to me as that was jus “play”.However I only informed the police after one more potentially serious attack quite near our house.

I described the man as tall with blonde hair and blue eyes.I got the reply “Was he black?”

So I said I’d not yet seen a black man with blonde hair and blue eyes.All the people who attacked me were white and as far as I could see they were not Jewish either.. nor any other group of people who are  often used as scapegoats in society.One of the attackers was a woman and someone in the hospital knew her… she was crackers.They knew her well.She didn’t  pick me out..I was just too near her in Victoria St in London on my way to see the Abbey.Instead I saw St George’s hospital.At that time you got seen within a few minutes in A and E.

If we are richer now,why is A and E so much worse?That does  puzzle me.If you are dying you get good treatment but otherwise it’s very slow.

I have been asked several times where I come from now.When I say England they look surprised.I hope I don’t get sent back to Scandinavia and end up in a log cabin  in Norway like Wittgenstein.They tell foreigners to go home but when they do they aren’t acceptable there sometimes.It’s too late now to sens us all back where we came from… somewhere in Africa I believe!

Why do poppies cover the battlefields so politely

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We have to be breathing right to hear
the silence from which all song arises;
we have to be breathing slow
and gently
We have to be breathing right to feel it,
the tenderness in which we are held by nature.
We have to be breathing quiet
and soft
and to be looking receptively,

No desire for  objects

We have to be breathing right to recall it
the music we heard when there was silence.
We have to be being breathed
by the world
We have to be part of the whole..

and so,we forget  it as we are pounded

with  the noise of radios and traffic
and people talking loudly on cell phones
walking by the green fields and river
past the secret heron
and the coots nest
past the daisies

When I am dying I shall think,
Why was I not breathing right?
Why was I scarcely breathing?
Why did I forget those moments?
Why did I not live more deeply?
Why did i not sing more sweetly?
Why did I nor love more dearly?
Why did i not listen more carefully?

Why did I not sing more sweetly?
why did I not see more completely?

Why don’t we talk more gently?
Why don’t we look more intently?

Why were the poppies growing so wildly?
Why were the battlefields growing nightly?
Why did we murder  men so lightly?
Why did we not love more rightly?
Why are the poppies  covering the soil  so  politely?
When did the young  soldiers   leave so frightfully?

Why are we not here  more quietly?

Having to collect mail with underpaid postage; it is from a Charity.

bike by pub 4

On Monday I got a card through the door saying someone had underpaid postage so their letter was not delivered.I  managed to get down to the sorting office today.It was from Friends of the Earth.So I refused to pay £1.54 to take it.

I just rang FoE and they said it was a letter asking me to increase my monthly donation.I decided to cancel my donation as it’s the only way to stop this recurring.I  am weeding out a few of these donations as I will probably have less money in the future or even this month!

I shall continue ones like Medecin sans Frontiers

Do not give money to an appeal asking you to text a certain number because when I did this they phoned and demanded a monthly amount.The man was extremely skilful.This is really a serious problem for people especially older ones.

I have also got cunning schemes from supposed insurance companies on my mobile now…

In the land that dreams dwell in

In the land which dreams dwell in

where love and joy and life begin;

how swiftly the deep rivers flow

from those lost lands of long ago.

I wander through wild poppy fields

Underfoot the dark earth yields….

I see the flowering fruit trees start

Their blossoms gather round my heart…

I hear the sparrows sing with joy

And bees their busy wings employ.

In those lost lands I saw your face

And now I long for your embrace.

Are you real,am I deceived?

From this earth we all must leave.

Earth to earth and ash to ash

Glory,pride and boasting pass.

Leave me now,my dearest one

Soon I too will be called on.

Nothing lasts but truth is real

Keep the truth and your ideals..

Earth to earth, we rest in clay

We must give all self away

Softly on this earth I roam

Seeking still my love and home,

for until the very end

Love and kindnss may descend.

Soft as wings of butterflies

Tears well up and wet my eyes.

My heart has melted into yours

Thus we grow and die like flowers

Wednesday limericks

I once fell in love with a Scot.

He made love every hour on the dot.

When I asked for time off

He stifled his wrath.

And  began to drink tea from my pot

I said,in England we drink tea from mugs.

And we keep our milk in a milk jug.

We take sugar too

If we feel super -blue.

Then we go,glug,glug,glug,glug.

Gentlemen like blondes   it is said

Though I prefer jam on my bread.

Men, I adore.

Need I say more?

But now my old man is quite dead.

Love again

What luxury can make me feel so good

Or lover make me happier than this?

For even though we tramped through lanes of mud

I feel my life  has its desserts of bliss.

No sorrow can destroy my happiness

For joy and woe are woven very fine.

And even if you sometimes are remiss

At least there is one spark of the divine.

The garden  is a symbol of  pure grace

As flowers bare their petals to the sun.

And daises  make the lawn look like white lace

As on your brow, my fingers I do trace.

For, though our lives are finite, we can know

Infinity in tiny plants that grow

I can’t answer the phone again

I have to iron my husband tonight.I have to feed the pig as well.

LegsI

I am washing the cat’s hair plus the other 9 cats all; need hair  conditioner washing out before bed.

The television needs a  new licence and so does my husband

The dog’s grave needs weeding and who am I to deny it?

I am dead now.Please phone in 3 days or  so. then call Dad.

I rue the day I set eyes  on your face.I should have used aspic jelly

i only answer the phone on Wednesdiays

i don’t talke cold calls

The bank manger is here

The washing machine is broken and I need money urgently.Send a cheque

What I thought when eating supper

1.Do we need all the different sorts of pasta? I myself rarely eat spaghetti owing to my coordination problems.That is,I drop it on my front.I only buy shells type pasta now but am I missing some flavour or delicacy?

2 My feet are cold.Shall I iron that dress with flowers  on or make it into an apron?

3.Shall I throw away all the odd socks?

4 Why do I read fewer novels now?

5 I  am thinking about the rumour that ISIS are to get here via the Channel Tunnel.

Is it to make us more anti-immigrant?

6.Why did nobody realise the Arabs would not tolerate for ever the way they were viewed by Europe and the USA?

7.Quite a  lot of serious events like the terrorism in Northern Ireland could have been prevented by allowing Catholics to vote even if they did not own a house.Yet nobody saw it…no politicians that is.

8 Will human beings always want to fight?

9 Why is it so windy  and cold in July?Is it my fault?

10 I remember how we used to say “Grace” before meals.

What to wear: unillustrated

By a strange chance  or error I found myself on the Telegraph website fashion page.They were recommending some expensive sandals.I shall tell you how to make them yourself.

1.Take a  pair of old shoes with leather soles and separate the upper and the sole.

2.Glue a piece of string 3 inches long. to the centre back of the heel.

3,You need 2  rolls of elastoplast ,one an inch wide and one 3 inches wide

4.Put your foot on the sole and pull the string up the back of your heel.Fasten it to your leg by using a piece of the wide elastoplast.

5.Fasten the front part of the sole to your foot using narrow elastoplast.

You now have  a sandal almost identical to the one being offered as suitable for this summer for the woman who needs the latest fashion.

My advice is once you have made 2 of these and stuck them to your feet that you can leave them there until the elastoplast wears out.Do not take them off in bed or in the shower.That might mean you can’t wash your feet but it’s nearly autumn now so the rain might keep you clean.On the other hand it might loosen the elastoplast and you’d be left with two soles and no heart.Then what would you do?

And they call us liberated!