Month: August 2015
I’ll love three
From Finland to the Phillipines
Egypt to Xanadu
From the North Pole to the Netherlands,
I love only you.
That isn’t very Christian
Nor would it please the Jew.
So if I must be good,my dear.
Then I’ll love two.
When I get more holy
And know where the virtues be
I’ll be even better then
For I’ll love three.
When I get dark, old and grey
And soon will be no more
I’ll make Jesus happy,
For I shall love a score.
From Alaska to Andalucia
Berlin to Borneo
If God spares me much longer
I’ll love ninety four!
;
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Why do people like to ask questions
Why did Jesus cross the road?
Because he lived on the Other Side.
Why did Jesus cross the road?
Because he saw the Light over there.
Why did Jesus cross the road?
Because the traffic lights were on red.
Why did Socrates invent logic?
Because he had no TV.
Why did Euclid take a bath?
Because geometry made him sweat.
Why did Plato ban the poet?
Because he had no licence.
Why did Plato like caves?
Because he was prone to sunburn.
Why is fantasy bad?
Because it’s not good for the Market economy
Why do cats laugh?
Because they can’t smile.
Why did Moses cross the desert?
Because he’d lost his smartphone maps app
Why was Solomon so wise?
Because he mulled over his ideas daily
Why are black sheep considered bad
Because they are rare?
Why does Leonard Cohen wear a hat on stage?
Because he likes attention
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Accepting that perfection is remote,
What love and friendship must at least entail
Are boundaries both elastic and firm.
Yet even that is but a mere detail
Less subtle is the need to do .no harm
For in the flush of youthful spirits strong
We do not like to know that all love fades
For when it does we lovers may do wrong
To wickedness we may find we’ve paid
And with the stone faced demons we belong.
Thus friendship love and joy involve the will
To take the other as she comes to be
For such allowing there’s a constant bill
Acknowledging such truth we’ll surely see.
Accepting that perfection is remote,
We’ll play our tunes and suffer every note
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Beware of a PC magazine just out with a free disc containing IOLO software
Some people maY recall that I wrote about this company and how they caused me a lot of trouble.
DO NOT USE THIS DISC OR ANY OTHER FROM THEM
I found that although I discovered they are a scam and got my money back in 2013 I found they were taking more moneyin 2014 although I would not have signed up.My credit card company refused me the right to not pay so I contacted IOLO and with a bit of arguing they took my name off.
What hey do is run a free scan which finds a hundred things wrong and then they sell you the stuff to deal with it
I GOT SEVERE BRONCHITIS AND HAD TO GET A NEW HARD DRIVE ON MY COMPUTER
There are sad stories of poor elderly people being cheated .. look on the net
.BUT WHY IS A COMPUTER MAGAZINE GIVING OUT THIS DISC?
DO NOT TRUST THOSE MAGAZINES… OR THEIR REVIEWS UNLESS SEVERAL GIVE THE SAME RECOMCMENDATION AND EVEN THEN BEWARE FREE OFFERS OF ANYTHING ON YOUR COMPUTER
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A few thoughts from a chaotic householder
A maturer man or woman may liks aural sex ;apparently it’s the aroma of earwax that evokes desire… it’s true!.. Basically you just whisper sweet nothings into their ear or in some cases you could try Newton’s Laws of E-motion on the scientific or the plain daft.This form of loving your neighbor is particularly good for the old as the ear does not need to move unless you are dancing together.
So much for Good Louse Keeping..This old magazine for ladies has closed down as there are not enough lice to keep it so afloat,if you see what I mean,which I don’t as yet
For more advice on love,fashion and relationships try thinking,,yes THINKING.. These mags all written by people like us so cut the fashion pundits out and do it yourself.I did and the neighbors are always admiring me me.It’s perhaps because I wear a coral coat,turquoise jeans and black patent shoes with red laces.Underneath I wear thermal underwear and my late husband’s vests I found five brand new ones in pure white interlock.= in his chest of drawers.I must have bought them
All I need now is someone to drink his whiskey.. that could be Alfred my new cat although to be frank Alfred may be a lady as I am too shy to look down there.Maybe the gardener will drink the whiskey and then cut the hedges down
Yes,my husband was very wicked.He died without even opening his new bottle of whiskey and I prefer brandy.I think he was very thoughtless to waste the money on drink and not to actually drink it.After all you would not pay a sex worker and then die,would you?On second thoughts,it’s possible a man might die in such a case.Do not experiment as it is very dangerous.Give the money to the poor instead. or buy your partner some flowers and go home and kiss her dear face or his rugged one etc
Yes,I find I am poor as “cheap cameras” at £500 are beyond my budget so instead I just look at things with my eyes.You just won’t believe what I’ve seen.. the untidiest house in the UK.I am sitting in it right now and it is worse than ever and with all the spilled tea and coffee the carpet looks really fed up.With me.Shall I hire a steamer or go on a cruise missile as it were… it’s all nonsense I am afraid and now I speak and write as if I have learned English as a foreign language.
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Night in August
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Desiring all
We each are like a shell upon the shore,
tossed up by squally,salty,shivering sea
.To shrink inside is safe,yet we want more,
To make,to love,to see,at last to be.
A shell, though tough, is made to open out;
To give the living core its chance to grow
.Towards the new we each must shed our doubt.
Every myth and story say it’s so.
.Towards the new we each must shed our doubt.
Every myth and story say it’s so.
Impregnable,that home had seemed to be
A tiny creature growing in its heart
Yet thrown by winds across the rolling sea
The slender cage must open and we part.
A tiny creature growing in its heart
Yet thrown by winds across the rolling sea
The slender cage must open and we part.
Protection can be prison to the soul.
So we leave our outgrown shells, desiring all
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I have dealt with the the lens cap disappearance…. use a honey jar lid!
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A list
Love you all
Appalled
In the park
Remark
Look
A book
Tact
In fact
Rolling Thistles
Howls and whistles
Numinous
Humorous
Voluminous
Labyrinthian
My relations
Migrations
No pleasin’ ’em
Like men
Never again
Squeezing ’em
The Glossy Ones-
The Flossy Ones
Philharmonia
New harmonia
Pneumonia
Wrestle only with men.Again
Angels exempt.
So he dreamt
Tremble only when?
Amen
Arrythmia
Dysthmia
As prim as he.is with you
Limbs run free
Pleats
Fill ’em in
Drill and bin
Non Brawling Thistles
He grows
Neighbours
The Remains
The Fast trains
Delete her
Pleat the heater
Neater
Done
Fun
A verb
Parse a sentence on him
Lewd when viewed
Very rude
Devaluation
No Fears while your relations are on.
Dissertations
Misinterpretations
Theses…
In pieces
Martin Who There?
Related articles
Celluloid particles
Old wet barnacles
Ethics in articles
s
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Alpha beta
attraction and attentiveness advantage aged alcoholics and asiatic alaskans altogether in an austrian amlet and an autistic artist avant garde attends at an appositely accidental amen
bizarre and blatant behavior brings blooming bother to bereaved british bystanders by the billion,BTW
confusing conclusions call for continuing care and community counselling in Coventry
don’t deny ,damning drugs does damage downwind,dear,despite dealing with it when drunk
evidence and experience entwine and enthrall eerily in the educational experiment in East End and elsewhere.
fortunes foretold frequently ferment the fundamental frizzling frictions of friends too familiar for freedom or folly
gerontology gigs :grandpa’s groaning and green grave gaped at god-idolisers going out to grass
haematological harassment has harmed the hospital hawfully so they haver haughtily and let that be the hend of it
infiltration in the interior is indeed intriguing if not impressively intense and interpreted injections of ill humour imbibe in bed and in bottles
jesuitical jousting jars the jauntless and jawdroppers and the jolly jews ,even jesus himself jeers at the jumped up jewelled jaguars
logic leaning lefties leave a legacy of lassitude and longing long-term for labour luddites
meaningful mysterious and mad:my memoirs made mercifully minute and miniscule yet momentous
nominally. names never need numbers for numerous narcissistic needs and norms to be on the net
outrageous odium often overestimates our omnipotent orderings of ownership over our own oughts
perfidious proud and parsimonious: phillipa the peace-loving princes of paris and her perils, pearls, perfume and pending paper tigers
quarantine ,quakes and quivers in the quorum and are quotidian queerly; we question all
romantic revelations rolled round wrecklessly in their romping room ,revealing ruth wrapped in their red rug
supernatural smart-ware seems “sensible” sometimes,say scientists yet sincerely
talking tantrum tweakers take the tablet together then tend towards tautology but not too technically, they take thrills trippingly towards the town’s interior tapless
walking wonders work out well,worn in winter weather, whether you want one or not
x-amine xylophones for xxxxxxxxx
yearnings of the young yield to years of yardwork and yacking or yawning and yowling
zygotes and zen:zoology for zoned out zombies near the zeider zee and zelsewhere
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Stan’s briefcase
Stan was in the dining room looking for an aged briefcase with his autobiography in it while Emile sat on an old TV set in the window.looking at birds.Mary was in the garden wearing an ancient yet trendy denim dress planting some trailing rosemary,lavender and sage in a small bed near the French window..She had decided that her salvation lay in the soil though what form it would take was not yet clear ;suddenly she heard a harsh cry.It was her neighbor telling off his dog,Emmanuel.Come,now ,he shouted.
Hail,Mary,he called.Can you spare a big potato?
Probably,she muttered peevishly without looking up.
I am making sausage boulangere, he informed her.But I use turkey sausages as I am a Jewish Hindu.semi vegetarian.
i am not interested in religion,she told him kindly.I believe one can worship God ,if there is one, somewhere like a wood.
I like being on a group ,he told her thoughtlessly..
Well ,go and be in one she saidt naughtily.Do you like sex in a group?I am a mathematician and we study rings and groups but only in symbols as maths is like life with all the sensuality removed,if you catch my meaning,she ended artlessly.
Stan appeared at the door.I have just made the tea ,.he called.Hi Brian, how are you?i Why are you wearing a dress today?Are you changing gender?
No,said Brian,I am a mere transvestite especially in the summer.You should try on a dress,they are more comfy in the heat!
Well,maybe I will said Stan with sang froid.But it makes more ironing…
They all sat down at the kitchen table and ate some delicious scones San had just baked and also they drank PG tips tea with milk and sugar as that is what the English most like to do apart from getting drunk.
Where is that lady Annie who lives next to you,asked Brian pensively..I like her bright clothes and her vivid lipstick.Is she single,he enquired in a faux naive manner.
Well, perhaps but she is my mistress, said Stan defensively.
Aha,aha,laughed Brian as he eyed the shrunken old man.
Now then,said Mary,leave him alone.He is like a magnet,women flock to him..
Now don’t exaggerate,Stan said shyly.I’ve not had that many.
I see said Brian.I’d love to hear more….. you’ll have to come to the pub and tell me the details.
Not flamin’ likely,thought Stan. ,as he examined his cracked leather briefcase with real brass buckles,backstraps and front pocket, a bargain at £3and ten shillings in 1949.Hurry as not many are left.
All of a sudden ,he fell off his chair which broke into fragments..Brian was awed.I’ve never seen a chair break up like that he cried.
Well,ring 999 said Mary, a paramedic can fix it
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A robin in the house
Today I installed Windows 10 and it went fine.Yesterday a robin came inside my home.It was flying round the sitting room.Eventually I opened the French window and shut the door to the hall and it had gone when I went back in.After a while I decided to eat and went to the kitchen… and there it was trying to fly out through the glass.At this I lost my cool and addressed it thus
You flaming idiot… which I have never said before.So you can see my morals are deteriorating.OK it may not speak English but that was not nice.However it then left via the door and has not been back.I wonder why it came in?
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The butterflower is braver than the tiger
Hail the butterfly May 2013
Iced water falls from the sky in small spheres
Just leaving space
for these fragile butterflies to court between the drops.
The geometry of love
fits any space
The butterfly is braver than the tiger
Just leaving space
for these fragile butterflies to court between the drops.
The geometry of love
fits any space
The butterfly is braver than the tiger
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Anyway,how is your nose?
When I am down I like a little Bark.
What about my shoe,Bert?
I know it’s a stiletto , but murder doesn’t cure depression.
Nothing lasts…except the ten minutes before the doctor begins the 22 injections into your face.
You know I hate the way they talk,You are going to smell the smell of human flesh burning.
It’s what we call schizoid.If they said, your own flesh burning then you’d be shouting, and bawling.And they can’t handle that.
They are only trying to help you
That’s what Hitler said to Freud
And what did Freud say?
i prefer a cigar,myself.
I didn’t know you smoked
It’s the new oven.
What’s the make?
Belsen,I think.
You sure?
Or Schwitz they said.
I think that’s disgusting.
Well you have to leave it all behind you.
it’s still bloody disgusting.
I agree,we are going all electric soon… starting with the chairs.
You are barking.
Or Digging ’em.
Don’t get the spade out,We’ve buried enough.
All you need is love……. it’s just the bloody hate that lurks about…..Oh,my God
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Blues
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Oh,Stan is feeling happy.
Oh,Stan is feeling happy. His wife has gone away. She’s gone out to Australia She won’t be home till May. Oh,Stan has got a mistress, She lives next door to him. She is very curvy. She won’t go to the gym! Her first name it is Sukie She loves Stan and his cat. She wears far too much makeup. Her cheeks are very fat. She wears bright coloured stockings. Her handbag’s apple green. She wears a dark red jacket, In case she meets the Queen. Stan loves Sukie dearly. He loves his wife as well. What will be the outcome? I’m damned if I can tell. They’ve been in this threesome For twenty seven years; Even though Stan’s mother Said it would end in tears. Mary is Stan’s wife They only had one child. Her name is little Lyra. and she is very wild. She looks quite like a tiger Her eyes are very sharp. But Lyra’s a musician. She plays an Irish harp. Stan wanted more children But Mary went off sex. She never let him love her Except via a text. She called him her sweet baby. She called him “little lamb”. Stan gets very angry. For Stanley is a man. He wants to join with Mary Like couples usually do. He wants to unite with her But she always has the flu. Now she’s giving lectures In the southern hemisphere. So Stan makes love to Sukie And swigs ten pints of beer. The cat Emile is watching. He keeps a daily log. Stan has bedded Sukie Right there on the rug. He’d vacuumed it that morning To Emile’s great surprise. The antics they performed on it Have opened Emile’s eyes. Now they’re in the kitchen To microwave a meal. Then Stan says to Sukie “I like the way you feel.
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Why not throw a tomato instead of a fit
Tomato in the sky at night
Visit Valencia in Spain for this unique event or buy some tomatoes and throw them around in your home…or perhaps outside.Don’t blame me if the police arrive!
http://www.latomatinatours.com/
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Just call me mean
Some folk have us running to the dictionary and others have us rushing to the bathroom.
Some folk smile like wolves about to eat us and others smile like we’ve made their day.
Some folk talk without thinking and others think but never talk.Let’s split the difference.
Some folk idealise us and hate that we are not what they thought,other folk see us as we are and love us anyway.Guess which are happy!
Some folk learn several languages and are dumb in all of them and others know just a few hundred words and are eloquent beyond measure.
Some folk are raised cruelly and spread the poison around, others suffer but use it to grow instead of becoming embittered.
As you all know I am perfect,except when on the computer.Then I hope to be as average as the rest.
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TWO SIDES TO A FACE
This is so true
Which side is my good side I have been asked at times,
I don’t understand your question as your face seems as one.
There are those whom as they speak are thinking something else,
They look at you with eyes caring not what’s in their sight.
A smile so bright but when they turn and walk away, roll their eyes,
So glad to see you, the dirty words flow from their mouths.
Two sides to a face, not so shocking anymore, we know who they are,
They’re all around us, family, friends, and the neighbor next door.
Keith Garrett
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Was Jesus a foreigner?
“If English was good enough for Jesus Christ,it’s good enough for me”
High School Superintendent in the USA
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Love knows what to do
Some folk are made of glass
And when the stormy winds blow
Rubber lets them pass.
i
Some folk have eyes like water
Some folk have eyes like ice.
And when we’re introduced
We do not look there twice.
Some folk have learned to use us
Some folk give us respect.
With those who will not
see us
We cannot connect.
Some folk where born to sunshine
Some folk were born to storm
And fears imagined in the mind
Can cause such dreadful harm
Oh,hold me to your bosom
Oh.hold me close to you
Some folk were made to hate and fear
But love knows what to do
Related articles
- To be loved but… (denisegriffith.wordpress.com)
- It’s impossible to love God if you don’t love people around you. (lisconnect.wordpress.com)
- The Opposite of Love (blurbsofgrace.wordpress.com)
- What Goes on in Our Minds When We See Someone Naked? (3quarksdaily.com)
- The deceiving heart. (batoolrumi.wordpress.com)
- Troubled Mind (myrulsmylife.wordpress.com)
- Human Condition: Love (annmareetrimboli.wordpress.com)
- Mindfulness #9 Awareness of Ancestors on the Self (walkswithyogi.com)
- Another form of art; Another creative mind (johnadairphotographs.wordpress.com)
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If this be love then
If this be love,then let me have your hate.
If speak you true then I prefer your lies.
For this, my heart, your message comes too late.
As now my need is for the thoughtful wise.
If this be marriage,let me have divorce.
If this be holy, hasten I to hell..
For love comes in its time without such force.
And of its message ẃho am I to tell?
If this be love,then let me dwell alone.
If this be love, I ‘ll be forever chaste.
Your love flew like a brick.that broke my bones
The love that lays your world and mine to waste
.
Love can shake us to our inner core.
Hence of your love I wish to hear no more
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There’s love about
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PrintLove thinking about you. Love,thinking about you. Love thinking,about you...... Thinking about you,love. Thinking love about you. You, thinking about love. You thinking about love? You love thinking about.... You about,thinking love? About you,love,thinking. About thinking,love you. About.com,Love Thinking Love About.com, Thinking Thinking,love About.com. Come love,stop thinking. How come there's love about? Think about it
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Margaret Atwood:Religion
If I were going to convert to any religion I would probably choose Catholicism because it at least has female saints and the Virgin Mary. | Margaret Atwood
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Wind dismays
Apples hang low near the ground. robins chirrup all around. sun on glowing maple leaves gives a red glow that deceives. Autumn air is flowing near, though it's still bright summer here. wind dismays the flowering rose as with arrogance it blows. Leave me one flower for my eyes. Leave me roses,as I sigh. Leave me not my dearest one. Soon enough we shall be gone. What remains is love alone. If your heart is not of stone, Fear not sorrow,fear not woe. Into this earth all must go.
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The journey
Signs and symbols guide the route.
Love gives the soul her appetite.
Though the night is black and starless,
The inner guide is never careless.
The notes are struck,the tune is played,
Plain melodies are overlaid.
In this chant and benediction,
Healing comes for desolation.
Though the passage way is narrow,
This pathway is the one to follow.
Struggling through the mud and mire,
We see in darkness tongues of fire.
The sacred centre of our life
Is never found without some strife.
With faith, the dark and light combine,
To create a symbol in the mind
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Free post modern poem
I love you,oh,my little black dog. Oh,yes!Bloop bong. Thwack. I love this pit,I do really. Bang bong. No, do not help me I am Fay ted. My narrative went wrong. Oh,whoopla! Now he has deleted me from his Sto Ry! He wants me to disappear. Mama meea Blong! But I have my own narrative La banko dio Bloop bung. My heart longs. For his love alone is a sad storee. Oh eh a mama dip thong Jer bum long I love my white dove But he hates me. Ah,ah, it's time for some Wagner. I hate it! Screaming women Get off me! Oh,cupid! I feel you are lucid. He hates me Blang
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Cherry tree branches
Cracks in the pavement Look like rivers approaching an estuary. Natural beauty, the shapes and forms wandering, sanctifies the road. Cherry trees branches, A wide canopy of leaves, Blossom blows away Sung geometry, held still and made eternal, Catches at my throat.
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Casualities of War
A very moving poem
It is not my rotting body that feeling hurt, it is my heart which hoping to see just a glimpse of your hair.
Your dead body below me,
covered in dirty soil
5 meter distance between us,
I know you will definitely back.
They saw bullet peel your brain off,
You were screaming my name
What a pain to remember me,
they said on your ‘last moment,’
but I know you will definitely back.
Been a hundred years,
My potion keeping my soul to stay at my body,
Death is lesser pain.
I’ll wait, I’ll wait,
I’ll wait until you regain your live,
until you regain your body back,
Until your brain back to one perfect piece,
I’ll have so many potion to have a long live,
To have a long wait, to make sure one day I see you
Back being live again.
That time I’ll rant to you,
View original post 15 more words
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To you who are not here
How like a prison is my cubicle How wary is my body on this chair. How still my heart and yet how strangely fickle. How fast it flies to you who are not here. How elegant your letters and your thoughts How gentle was your touch upon my throat. And yet you killed my words and all the sense I brought You loved me not,but like a wasp did gloat As in this mental jail I'm tightly trapped, I'll use my time to write and make my prayer. Perhaps my mind can extricate a map.. From which I'll plot the route to get away. The prisons which seem external are inside Yet in such captive grief so many die.
How my heart sings 