Month: September 2015

How interesting

I felt so  tired today i.e. lazy that I wasn’t going to post at all.Yet they say it’s my best ever day for likes.I don’t  know how that  it matters but I suppose it’s encouraging to know someone is looking!And  how sunny days are lovely

These new acers are part of my programme to  start to live a new life.

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Word of the evening:Eclectic

http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/eclectic

Eclectic   may be confused with electric.

And even with non- words like perplectic

Eclectic    is  broadranging

And always engaging.

While never  making humans  dyspeptic,

Perplectic is a word I invented

It gives my mind a  very great incentive

For when I am dead

You’ll recall what I said.

Maybe say I was delightfully inventive,

What the…

I wonder what rhymes with paroxysm?

There may be some words with no rhyme in ’em

Leonard Cohen hated oranges

So he put  olive oil on  his bed hinges.

His lover  gave  him a good time in .em

The dentist

The wind  altered direction

Clouds fought,whirled

like flying merry- go -rounds

broken from any bolts

The sky was grey but angry.

Exultant my spirit lifted

A plane at the end of the runway took off

Above the clouds.I saw  the earth

A ball floating through space

Then I landed;felt my weight in the chair.

The dentist was gasping

I thought you’d gone.

I smiled despite the blood.

It was all over

Clouds

Reluctant clouds;

Train with brake half on

going up Shap Fell

in winter.

Moving away from the sun’

south west

they have no guide

are not hostile

make no decisions;

submit to nature;

never fight.

What do they perceive?

The sun shines

but

we hide in dark corners.

Behind a big chair

it’s always winter

Snake skin

“The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.”
I am not sure who said this but it seems good to me because it shows  how we are always looking for meaning and in the natural world we can find inspiration and  courage
which are invaluable friends

Emile has a latte and Stan admires the ladies

I used to write these for my husband.He liked them when he was ill.

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Stan and Mary enjoyed their coffee.Emile,their pet cat, was somewhat over affected by the caffeine and began to tremble wildly.

What shall we do for  him ? Mary asked Stan.
Well,we can’t ring 999 from here,surely? he replied plaintively
Mary took off her silk scarf and wrapped Emile  up in it.
There you are,that will calm you,she told the nervous cat in her soft voice
Next time we’ll get decaf for you.
Thank you,Emile mioawed.I liked it but it’s very strong.
Stan went inside to pay and found it was £3 per mug…making £9 in total.
Gosh,it’s expensive now,he grumbled.The waiter looked puzzled as he did not recall a time when a cup of tea was 6d and coffee 1 shilling..
Why,I am getting old and tetchy,Stan murmured to himself.
We don’t do it often.Mary said in a warm, kind  and tender voice,something she had more or less permanently.
We enjoy a treat now and then…. and I’ve enjoyed watching people go by.Such a variety now from all over the world.
So did I ,thought Stan,especially the girl with leggings of about 20 denier and a very short top.He’d not seen so much of a woman’s private parts for ages.The fact that the leggings were light grey had made it even more of a thrill;even a sin,maybe,to a Catholic or Jansenist…
But can a man help it if he is excited by the sight and site of what was once reserved for marriage  bed or the brothel.
No,a man cannot help it because we are all animals,we are all flesh and as such we have certain automatic reactions….And in any case even with long dresses on women still look alluring,perhaps more alluring.
Stan fell into a day dream were young ladies were walking about wearing short satin nightgowns and lace peignoirs of silk with gold embroidery….
Very nice! he shouted loudly.
What is very nice? Mary asked
Stan opened his eyes and found he was still outside the Cafe de la Fromage… where are we,he said

Why we are here in Knittingham to  get your shoes in Hotters.
What a funny name for a shoe shop,said Emile.
Is it because shoes make you hotter? I’d like some red shoes,myself.
I fear we can’t afford shoes for you Emile and you’d not be able to climb a tree then either.
I could have slippers for in the house,Emile whispered..
They set off and arrived in Hotters.
Yes,madam.What do you want,asked an elegant  lady assistant.
Some slippers for the cat!
For the cat? Are you barking?
No,that’s a dog.
Emile had found some baby shoes and was trying them on.
Look ,he howled,and all the customers stared at him as he ran up and down the shop floor in them.
OK,said Mary,Two pairs please.
That will be £50,dearie.
Oh,I’ll pay with my debit card.
They left the shop and headed for the bus stop before Mary realised
They had forgotten to buy Stan’s shoes.

Arm 4
Stan didn’t really mind and it meant he could see more female bottoms again the next day.
Suppose men wore leggings,he mused.Would women like to see our private parts while shopping in Tesco’s or Lidl’s?
Time will tell… but ,it seems unlikely to happen here in the UK as men are more conservative ,though we do see men in bathing trunks walking down the road in summertime and alas,they are usually not the ones with the right shaped bodies not to mention that few of us want bare chests  and other body parts pressing closely behind us in the queue to pay for our food and drink and other goods in the supermarket… and they are not very super nowadays.

That strange moment in our life

swirlySometimes there’s a moment in life when you know something is utterly wrong, that your life as you have known it might become something other,something alien.This happened to me in late February 2014 when I took my husband to buy some shoes.
For it seemed he had given away all of his shoes but one pair.It might seem obvious to a practical dreamer like myself that in the winter a man needs two pairs of shoes,in case snow or rain attacks one pair.But  he knew better than I did what he really needed
He never explained.He was really a very quiet man but at the same time an extravert affectionate person.He didn’t share my need to help  or amuse others by explaining why I had done something.That .was one big difference between us.The bigger one was that he was a man and I am a woman,
The shoe shop was crowded but we had no plans to go anywhere else.Then I felt sick.He eventually found a pair he liked;he rejected my suggestion he should get two pairs which turned out to be a wise decision though I had no way of knowing it  on that day.I was like an animal that smells a new scent in the air and has no idea whether to run or to get closer
When we got home I knew:something is going to happen but to which of us?And when? And now I know a I sit here with the deep but almost invisible,indecipherable scar on my Viking  face looking at the mantel shelf where 60 or 70 letters and cards of condolence stand,I know that it was to  both of us but I am the one left behind; the one who arranged the music for the funeral;the one who answered  the  letters .And I am the one who saw death enter,a black shape moving like a dancer across the threshold behind the bold woman who took our lives and tore them apart.As if she were under orders.As if there were no choice.

Durham owl

short-eared durham owl
meditating over the dale's edge,
shadows the fields and folds
in elegant diurnal flight.

on windside,careful sight
may swoop to prey
and away.

your yellow broad-eyed look,
at once both sharp and distant,
holds me.
oh,silence,
oh ,wind on green,
oh. earth,
sky.

immense your held vision,
sphere without centre,
pied geometer of flight,
sketch your descent and ascent.
trees bunched by dry stone wall
call heart home.

See you

Lots off love

Good bye  for the remnants

I have fun out of ideas

i’ll write next shriek as you shall

i don’t like to emit this

I must shop now.

Oh,devour.

Ode to annoy

See your dilator

See your tune.

See your moons.

See your plater

Yours wincerely… ouch

Yours fadingly

Forever lined.

Buy,buy!

How’s your shoe?

How’s your heartless murmur?

He loved my sins and tumour.

I write my own ruins.

God be with you

With blots on love.

Sans theorie,alors.

God by and by.

He loves me not so it’s rough.

I beg your jargon,my feat

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Pen me the weights is here

Richard the surd and his algebraic horologies

William the bonkerer ate a chess nut

Dishabilished , viewed her?

Richard the lion’s tart. were they married?

Edward the  sheavenst of Horn

Victoria, the Temptress of India.

By George,the wicks! Candles on view.

Eleanor of auqa planes was a wife to fear

It was a mugger and his ass

With this ring I thee bed.i beg your jargon.What did you play?

The water’s side,I cannot fuss.I can walk on it.

Wire lambs and radios

our home

Silence emboldens.
See red ,sweet maid,I bet you’re very clever.
He looks as bold as he seems
He feels me very touching
Thank you very much for the poetry ironer.
So is this a good mien…
Some clotheads insult me without even gnawing.
He broke up with her as all the windows in his house fell in when he made love on Sundays.
But surely it was an act of God; he was trying to reap moles on the Sabbath.
And he shot a chicken when it tried to cross the road.
He was deficient in elasticity….he needs a rubber soul…………………. and a tin heart
She has Mall a la tete.
I have ’em all a ma tete.Wire lambs

Days for losing

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Some days are days for losing
Diaries,letters,lovers.
Some days are days for losing
Fathers,money,mothers.

Some days are days for finding
Mobile phones and patience.
Some days are days for finding
New friends and old relations.

Some days I feel at sea for hours,
Some days I feel so lost.
Some days I know that life’s worthwhile
Whatever the emotional cost.

Days are special units
In the journey we call life.
Days are short so don’t waste time
In needless haste or strife.

Last train for Moscow

“Polonez” train from Moscow to Warsaw departing Beloruskij Vokazal (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Panorama of Moscow, Borodinsky Bridge near rig...
Panorama of Moscow, Borodinsky Bridge near right, Smolensky Metro Bridge far right (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

[ change Niegoreloje.]

Elena,a baby, wrapped in her woollen clothes,

On the last train,Warsaw to Moscow,

1939.Father,mother,brother
You passed through the Arctic Wastes of life.
Still as if travellng on a train
To an impossibly far destination.
As you left the German Army crashed into Poland
Lost,your aunts
Your cousins.
Your culture.
How does God select the damned?
Later,you had your own baby,here in England,
Not lost like all those others.
Your father died by his own hand,
The hand of history;
The fingers twitching,
Not sure where to point.
Then settling into frozen grief
A sculpture only your mother saw.
You saw too,Elena.
You always saw,though you can’t remember;
The long journey,your mother’s breast,
Your father’s silence.
Only the dead know that silence.
Only the dead weep
With the rocks and stones .
And the ice in each eye
Fell like snow down your cheeks
As you held your own infant.
Warsaw to Moscow,
Moscow to Jerusalem.
Always journeying
Looking for what they can never find:
The home they left behind
The presence of the dead
Lying in gaunt heaps
Like rubbish
Your aunts, Elena.
Your cousins.
You never knew them.
But there’s a hole in your mind
Through which the Polish wind blows for ever.

Related articles

Fish

Fire out,I sit in coat and fake fur collar

My hands cold,

Just caught hake off Flamborough. Head

Know how I feel

A cold winter already came for me.

I am prepared.

I find some hats I knitted.

Fish have no skin

Their eyes look out poignant yet fierce

They think they are sharks

It’s so wrong to display them

Dead in rows.

I knew then in the fish market

What kind of world it is.

Animals have their own holocaust

Well,think about it.

Crabs and mussels boiled alive.

God never wanted human sacrifice

It was some  evil demon  Hitler  worshipped

Himself I think

How do you do it?

Did  Freud get it right.. the death instinct.

Or to be blunt

Would n’t a hot soak in the bath be better?

Cold again.

Is the world worse now?

The wise are brave

We hope for fortune’s smile upon our lives

And work so hard we distort  what is wise.

Husbands   may not please entitled wives.

And women  may not show their tender eyes.

Far better to be willing with our choice

What  fraction of our lives can be controlled?

Need  I say we need to free our voice

And that we   attempt to be more bold?

Braveness is  pure good by wisdom known

We grow it  through the trials of our  lives

Cowardice is common, often  unshown.

There most evil deeds may hidden thrive.

Fortune may not favour all who’re brave

For fortune strangely  favours cruel knaves

In the room

Television on standby

Light like a red eye

The webcam’s eye sees all

I sit like a stiff model

Art class

How to  do it

Live

The fire is not red but orange

I cannot eat  the flame.

My back aches

Bad teeth gnaw at my gut

Auto inflicted

Its motorway  right through me

Below my heart lingers wondering

Is it the music?

Holly tree

The holly stands, still as a candle;

Lights the winter dark with rubies.

A  still white cloud hangs over

Its  mirror flashes low sun

A cat stands,puzzled paw held up

God’s marionette

A worm surfaces

It’s time to go