Uttering a word is like striking a note on the keyboard of the imagination.
Uttering a word is like striking a note on the keyboard of the imagination.
Her invitation to dinner was a ploy.
He meant no more to her than a toy.
So she played on his feelings
Until he was reeling.
By good fortune he was not a boy,
Late 17th century (originally Scots and northern English in the sense ‘pastime’): of unknown origin. The notion of ‘a calculated plan’ dates from the 1950s.
ahoy, alloy, Amoy, annoy, boy, buoy, cloy, coy, destroy, employ, enjoy, Hanoi, hoi polloi, hoy, Illinois, joy, koi, oi, poi, Roy, savoy, soy, tatsoi, toy, trompe l’œil, troy
“Thy Friendship oft has made my heart to ache do be my enemy–for friendship’s sake.”
I was going to make some traditional shortbread, but after reading the recipe I just ate half a pound of butter instead.
I was going to make some mince pies so I soaked pastry in brandy and fried it in butter.That’ll learn it.
I was going to make my own Xmas cake but it turned into my sister’s over night.
I hate turkey all Xmas day.
Who wants a chip of the old data?
I’ll be glad to be remote again with only a TV
My gay laughter can be heard for smiles
Bank your chain and flush as you stand.
|You ain’t seen no coffins as yet?|
|You can lead a horse and chortle|
|You should never go home with a man if you’re writing a book.
Take your rhymes;there’s no scurry.
Once more unto the beach?
|You can prey on my bat again anytime|
|You can take water to the drunk and douse them whenever|
|You can’t sit with a bare leg in a shared home|
|Who can’t make a silk purse out of a cow’s heel?|
|You can’t put the roof space back into the underground|
|You can’t love him. you can only hope to detain him in bed|
|You can’t sing for a dead cat|
|You can’t light cigars in a bear’s space|
|You gnawed at my tart all night.Pay as you go,next time|
|You could have shocked me in Dover with a leather g string|
|You don’t have an egg to stand on in my kitchen|
|You don’t miss the water till the well spins hay|
|You got hit coming to ? Where?|
|You got your just deserts and your unjust deserts.Never sigh nigh.|
|You have to break a few heads to make the teeth stick|
|You welded love onto my heart with your heat|
|You cost me and I’m dumb|
|You make a better cake than a Vindaloo|
|You make even the sun whine.Where do you get that from?|
“Loneliness does not come from having no people about one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself.”
Fulminating is hard on the heart.
As lightning strikes, our spirit departs.
Be tender and kind.
Keep peace in your mind.
Grace will come down when love starts.
An avid cyclist, Justine would often fulminate against automobile drivers who ignored bike lanes and otherwise created hazards for those riding on two wheels.
“We say we value memoirs and other nonfiction works precisely because they tell us what really happened. Then, when the amazing true story turns out to be a bit less than absolutely true, some of us fulminate about it for a while, even as countless more continue to pony up for the tale.” — Laura Miller, Salon, 9 June 2015
Lightning strikes more than once in the history of fulminate. That word comes from the Latin fulminare, meaning “to strike,” a verb usually used to refer to lightning strikes—not surprising since it sprang from fulmen, Latin for “lightning.” When fulminate was adopted into English in the 15th century, it lost much of its ancestral thunder and was used largely as a technical term for the issuing of formal denunciations by ecclesiastical authorities. But its original lightning spark remains in its suggestion of tirades so vigorous that, as one 18th-century bishop put it, they seem to be delivered “with the air of one who [has] divine Vengeance at his disposal.”
Mike and Ros attended the Carol Service recently.I thought the photos he shared were excellent.
When Mary got home,she took off her coat and put the kettle on the fire!She got the tea caddy out and put some tea into the pot.Suddenly the door burst open and Annie her exuberant neighbour fell into the kitchen
Are you ok,Mary asked her gently.Those 4 inch heels are rather dangerous.
Annie was wearing a sky blue track suit,red stilettos and a big green pashmina. Her make up had melted all down her face as she was so warm with running.She had some waterproof make up but had the feeling it might be dangerous to clog the pores.
Where have you been?She asked curiously.You were ages.
I forgot to get off the bus as I fell into a reverie.
That sounds like a black hole!
I was daydreaming so I ended up by the river and a policeman asked me for a date,sort of.
Did you have any dates with you?
No,I only had Stan in my bag,alas.
Where is he?Have you put him into the wardrobe?
It’s already full.He’s still in the bag at the moment.
The two women fell into a sad mutual silence realising Stan would never now teach Emile to swim in the bath nor return his overdue library books.
Am I liable for his fines,Mary wondered.
I can pay if you like,Annie,said generously.She got out some home made biscuits and gave one to Mary who was wearing a long black dress from Lands End which resembled a nun’s habit.
Are you thinking of retiring to the cloister soon ,she continued.
No,I don’t believe in Christianity any more.Christ.yes,Christianity ,no.
What about Xmas?Will you celebrate?
I shall pray and do out the kitchen cupboards.
Are they that bad,asked Annie curiously, twiddling a ringlet with her fingers.
Possibly,Mary giggled!They didn’t teach domestic science at Oxford!And Mother was always busy cooking and cleaning the grate after she got home from work.
Talking about grates,I’d better look at the kettle.She lifted it off the fire and held it up in the air.It was very black on one side,just like the one Mary’s mother had had so many years ago.
Why don’t I make some tea,she asked.
I don’t know,said Annie.Is this the Xmas quiz?
No,you don’t understand.It’s a rhetorical question.
Oh,do stop showing off,Annie told her.I only went to Knittingham Polytechnic and we never did Greek,just Aramaic.I have forgotten it now.
Mary poured out the tea into two pint sized mugs and the women sat silently warming their hands on the mugs and meditating on the wilful backwardness of the local poly which now only taught Latin,Hebrew and chemical engineering.The latter was an error as the professors thought that was what Wittgenstein had studied before finding Bertrand Russell more attractive.
Russell’s paradox had haunted Annie ever since those happy student days.Whereas she being a lady with a very high libido would have preferred Russell to his paradox if she had been given the choice.
Well,I was on the bus and it was very full.so I said to this man,Can I have your seat?
So he says,No,you are equal now.
So I said,My knees are killing me
So he sez,See the doctor!
So I said,I’ve got my husband here.
Where? he asked
He’s in this bag here,I told .
He looked a bit puzzled so I said.it’s his ashes actually.
So he said,All right you can sit down.
I said.Don’t bother,grace will aid me.
Who’s Grace,he said looking round.
I mean God’s grace,I told him.
If you aske me,God’s a bloody disgrace.he replied.
so I said,please watch your words as it may disturb my husband.
He said,Surely he can’t hear me now,can he?
I said,No the waves of sound might rattle him.
He said,Rattle!He’s not a skeleton,is he?
No,I was using it to mean upset or disturb in a poetical sense
My.my he said.Who are you,Mrs Wittgenstein.
Wittgenstein never married,I informed him.Nor did he write poetry though the Tractatus does have a stern beauty
What a shame,he said.You’d make someone a lovely wife.
Is that a proposal,I asked him humorously.
It doesn’t seem right when you have your husband’s ashes on your knee.
Too true.I fancied having a quiet time on my own with no men around.
So you don’t want passionate bodily love? he asked.
I might want it but I have no desire to wash underpants and boil hankies any more.How that ever got linked to passionate love,God only knows,I murmured seductively
No, he doesn’t because he has no nose! he informed me quietly
Wow,I never knew that,I lied despondently.
Excuse me,can I get off? he enquired gently
Not on me,thank you,I answered with a cunning smile
You are so vulgar,he noted journalistically.
Thank you.I’ve been training for a year or two.I told him wisely, with a shy laugh.
Why,can you have lessons?He asked quite jocosely
Just watch some soaps on TV….I offered unevenly
I prefer gardening,he replied regretfully
You can prune my bush tonight if you like,I reminded him perversely
I say,that’s a bit off! he said wistfully
The ashes have gone to my head.I said in desperation.
I say,shall I take you home? he offered gallantly
I have no home,I responded poignantly.My lover broke a window over my head after my husband took ill.
Even for a man I told him numerically.
He should have been glad,he replied sensately.
No, he was afraid of commitment,I informed him furiously.
How would breaking the window help? he asked curiously
It would give him a way to escape from me.I chattered to him
My goodness,we are at the terminus.We’ll have to get another bus back to our stops.He said anxiously.
Just then we saw some police approaching.
Excuse me madam.are you Muslim?
No.I always wear cotton in hot weather.Unless I am making cheese.
Sorry. he said.How do you worship?
I think you need a Rabbi.
So you are Jewish?
How do you know,he said.
As you have a big hat on like Leonard Cohen ~I deduced you were another of those Cohens.They are all descended from Aaron,you know.There must be a few hundred of you.
I fear you have made a logical error,madam.
As long as I don’t make an error of the heart,I don’t bother about logic.I said informatively
Surely we need both a heart and a head,he told me queationingly.
Definitely,but why are you here? I demanded.
That’s what God said to Elijah on the mountain.
And what did Elijah say,I enquired.
I heard you calling me.
This word means enemy or opponent It is another word deriving from the Greek.I wondered if it had any connection to Antigone but it seems not.However you may like to hear someone reading Antigone.