Month: February 2016

A new disease? Halitophobia

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halitophobia
A pervasive fear of having bad breath or an exaggerated fear of having halitosis. Some halitophobics avoid social activities and live in a state of self-enforced solitude.When dealing with the problem of halitosis or with the halitosis patient, it is important to distinguish between genuine halitosis and pseudo-halitosis.

Genuine halitosis can be verified when the breath malodor is an actual problem that can be easily diagnosed either by organoleptic or by physic-chemical processes. Pseudo-halitosis exists when the oral malodor does not exist; however, the patient is convinced that he or she has it.

If after successful treatment for either genuine halitosis or pseudo-halitosis, the patient still believes that he or she has halitosis, then the diagnosis is termed halitophobia.

This simple classification system includes corresponding treatment requirements and allows the clinician to differentiate between a pathological and a psychological condition.

Inhalation

From online dictionary
inhalation
ɪnhəˈleɪʃ(ə)n/
noun
noun: inhalation; plural noun: inhalations
  1. the action of inhaling or breathing in.
    “the inhalation of airborne particles”
    • MEDICINE
      the inhaling of medicines or anaesthetics in the form of a gas or vapour.
    • MEDICINE
      a preparation to be inhaled in the form of a vapour or spray.
Origin
early 17th century: from medieval Latin inhalatio(n- ), from inhalare ‘inhale’.

Starting the next line

and I am starting the next line

even though my mind is blank

walking into a bog or a meadow

trusting myself to find

the rest of the sentence

and the next one

and so I am never blocked

or always blocked,if you like

it seems odd but it works

like solving a problem unprepared

in a lecture room in front of

100 students, my reason being

it’s boring to reproduce

and to do it right the first time

what do you think?

 

 

The force that generates the waves

The force that generates the waves

The foe who stimulates our rage.

The  fierceness of the hurricane.

The flash  floods  and  the  lashing rains

 

These dangerous forces  we each know,

Dwell within as passions flow.

Rage and hate and jealous minds,

Make tempests   cruel and unkind.

 

Is there a  brief moment of  choice,

To stop us heeding instincts’ voice?

Are we  helpless in red mist

As  we clench our naked fist?

 

To  kill our foes  is  tempting but

Do we need what they have brought?

Do we need to add their view

When we determine what to do?

 

Bite your lip and count to ten

Listen hard especially when

The   stormy rage grips hard and tight

And tempts us into yet more fights

 

Since the first cities were made

Men have fought for land and trade.

Is it possible to live

With a life alternative?

 

With the eye of predator

Wily brain and weapons more,

Men can kill without much thought

And  say their gods tell them they ought.

 

We need to build  a channel clear

Through which can flow our rage and fear.

Let not the anger claim your arm

But seek instead for spirit’s balm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem by Rimbaud

from Rimbaud: Complete Works, Selected Letters, a Bilingual Edition

Translated by Wallace Fowlie and revised by Seth Whidden

Mémoire
I

L’eau claire; comme le sel des larmes d’enfance,
l’assaut au soleil des blancheurs des corps de femmes;
la soie, en foule et de lys pur, des oriflammes
sous les murs dont quelque pucelle eut la défense;

l’ébat des anges;—non…le courant d’or en marche,
meut ses bras, noirs, et lourds, et frais surtout, d’herbe. Elle
sombre, avant le Ciel bleu pour ciel-de-lit, appelle
pour rideaux l’ombre de la colline et de l’arche.

II

Eh! l’humide carreau tend ses bouillons limpides!
L’eau meuble d’or pâle et sans fond les couches prêtes.
Les robes vertes et déteintes des fillettes
font les saules, d’où sautent les oiseaux sans brides.

Plus pure qu’un louis, jaune et chaude paupière
le souci d’eau—ta foi conjugale, o l’Epouse!—
au midi prompt, de son terne miroir, jalouse
au ciel gris de chaleur la Sphère rose et chère.

III

Madame se tient trop debout dans la prairie
prochaine où neigent les fils du travail; l’ombrelle
aux doigts; foulant l’ombelle; trop fière pour elle
des enfants lisant dans la verdure fleurie

leur livre de maroquin rouge! Hélas, Lui, comme
mille anges blancs qui se séparent sur la route,
s’éloigne par delà la montagne! Elle, toute
froide, et noire, court! après le départ de l’homme!

IV

Regret des bras épais et jeunes d’herbe pure!
Or des lunes d’avril au cœur du saint lit! Joie
des chantiers riverains à l’abandon, en proie
aux soirs d’août qui faisaient germer ces pourritures.

Qu’elle pleure à présent sous les remparts! l’haleine
des peupliers d’en haut est pour la seule brise.
Puis, c’est la nappe, sans reflets, sans source, grise:
un vieux, dragueur, dans sa barque immobile, peine.

V

Jouet de cet œil d’eau morne, Je n’y puis prendre,
oh! canot immobile! oh! bras trop courts! ni l’une
ni l’autre fleur: ni la jaune qui m’importune,
là; ni la bleue, amie à l’eau couleur de cendre.

Ah! la poudre des saules qu’une aile secoue!
Les roses des roseaux dès longtemps dévorées!
Mon canot, toujours fixe; et sa chaîne tirée
au fond de cet œil d’eau sans bords,—à quelle boue?
Memory
I

Clear water; like the salt of childhood tears,
the assault on the sun by the whiteness of women’s bodies;
the silk of banners, in masses and of pure lilies,
under the walls a maid once defended;

the play of angels;—no…the golden current on its way,
moves its arms, black, and heavy, and above all cool, with grass. She
dark, before the blue Sky as a canopy, calls up
for curtains the shadow of the hill and the arch.

II

Ah! the wet surface extends its clear broth!
The water fills the prepared beds with pale bottomless gold.
The green faded dresses of girls
make willows, out of which hop unbridled birds.

Purer than a louis, a yellow and warm eyelid
the marsh marigold—your conjugal faith, o Spouse!—
at prompt noon, from its dim mirror, vies
with the dear rose Sphere in the sky grey with heat.

III

Madame stands too straight in the field
nearby where the filaments from the work snow down; the parasol
in her fingers; stepping on the white flower; too proud for her
children reading in the flowering grass

their book of red morocco! Alas, He, like
a thousand white angels separating on the road,
goes off beyond the mountain! She, all
cold and dark, runs! after the departing man!

IV

Longings for the thick young arms of pure grass!
Gold of April moons in the heart of the holy bed! Joy
of abandoned boatyards, a prey
to August nights which made rotting things germinate.

Let her weep now under the ramparts! the breath
of the poplars above is the only breeze.
After, there is the surface, without reflection, without springs, gray:
an old man, dredger, in his motionless boat, labors.

V

Toy of this sad eye of water, I cannot pluck,
o! motionless boat! o! arms too short! neither this
nor the other flower: neither the yellow one which bothers me,
there; nor the friendly blue one in the ash-colored water.

Ah! dust of the willows shaken by a wing!
The roses of the reeds devoured long ago!
My boat still stationary; and its chain caught
in the bottom of this rimless eye of water,—in what mud?

Rimbaud wrote all his work before he was 21

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“A poet makes himself a visionary through a long, boundless, and systematized disorganization of all the senses. All forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he exhausts within himself all poisons, and preserves their quintessences. Unspeakable torment, where he will need the greatest faith, a superhuman strength, where he becomes all men the great invalid, the great criminal, the great accursed–and the Supreme Scientist! For he attains the unknown! Because he has cultivated his soul, already rich, more than anyone! He attains the unknown, and if, demented, he finally loses the understanding of his visions, he will at least have seen them! So what if he is destroyed in his ecstatic flight through things unheard of, unnameable: other horrible workers will come; they will begin at the horizons where the first one has fallen!”
― Arthur Rimbaud

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“In the morning I had a look so lost, a face so dead, that perhaps those whom I met did not see me.”

— Une Saison En Enfer

Rimbaud was a 19th century poetic prodigy whose tempestuous relationship with the poet Paul Verlaine inspired Verlaine to try and shoot him. Rimbaud wrote only in his youth — he stopped entirely when he was 21.

In between two rain drops

Some evenings, the sky turned  pink

We were happy, lying in the grass

watching the sun set,

arms around each other.

Seemed like eternal life had come

Earlier than forecast
.
Those weathermen are too often wrong!

They need new training.

But, forever,

I’ll remember you ,sweetheart,

in that timeless moment

in between two raindrops,

in between two tears.

A bare art

 

Bank your chin and upper lip         IMG_0056
you ain’t seen’t coffin yet
you can lead a hearse with  the porter
you can ever  go home and moan
you can say  crap  and strain my nerves
you can take the cat to the bank manager today
you can’t fit a square leg onto  a  round sole
you can’t make a welsh curse out of a cow’s rear
you can’t put the tooth back into the hole
you can’t shop him. you can only hope to maintain him.
you can’t swing a dead bat at NZ
you can’t take  picnicers off a rare  horse
you decomposed on my tart;  where’s the art?

Tantrum ergo,rhodedendrons…..

We used to have Latin at Mass.

And later we learned it in class

Tantrum ergo

We must forego

As the Church built a new and bright past.

 

We used to sing, Credo in unum.

But some of us sang,Cried in your mum.

Our soles were all healed

Partitions were sealed.

And sometimes  in nostalgia advertum

 

 

Mathematics is the science of patterns

Mathematics  is the science of patterns;

So is not for the idle or slatterns.

But now I love art,

The patterns of the heart.

No one conducts that with a baton.

 

Yet mathematics has got  its attractions

I refer not to those vulgar fractions.

But  several types of infinity,

Have their divinity.

Then we have  perspective, and more, golden sections.

 

Add to that, we can say with great ease,

Circles and squares, nonchalant, tease.

Pi is a number

Transcendental with wonder.

As for e, then we’ll  reach that by degrees.

 

Now logs have caused mental fits

Divorced brains and predeceased wits.

So I shan’t mention them today,

But let your minds play.

Algebra  keeps  some hearts frit

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eternity is now

Deferential, I
Eternity await
Submit to your  grace
In my patient state.

 

None but God can judge;
None have his pure gaze.
Write me not your wish.
Tempt me not with praise.

 

Timeless as the  heavens
Eternity is now
Mindful of this lesson
Grace will show me how

His eyes rolled all over

I loved a Ukrainian from France

As he had  his own eloquence.

His eyes rolled all over

The white cliffs of Dover.

His legs did an elegant prance.

 

Now part of that cliff face fell off

St Margaret’s Bay had it quite  rough.

So I took him to Devon

Where the cliffs are sheer heaven.

His hat makes him look like a toff.

 

 

We communicate non verbally,

As we gaze out across the teal sea.

He wiggles his ears

Till I am in tears.

I laugh and  then, oh,dear,I wee.

 

 

Incontinence is a big  trade,

As women’s parts often need aid.

And we pay VAT

Which enrages me.

From puberty to  age we  have paid.

 

The meaning of perspective

perspective
pəˈspɛktɪv/
noun12688098_665658233574058_5196333777777983294_n
noun: perspective
  1. 1.
    the art of representing three-dimensional objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other.
    “the theory and practice of perspective”
    • the appearance of viewed objects with regard to their relative position, distance from the viewer, etc.
      “a trick of perspective”
    • a view or prospect.
      plural noun: perspectives
      synonyms: view, vista, panorama, prospect, bird’s-eye view, sweep, outlook,aspect;

      archaiclookout
      “a perspective of the whole valley”
    • GEOMETRY
      the relation of two figures in the same plane, such that pairs of corresponding points lie on concurrent lines, and corresponding lines meet in collinear points.
  2. 2.
    a particular attitude towards or way of regarding something; a point of view.
    “most guidebook history is written from the editor’s perspective”
    synonyms: outlook, view, viewpoint, point of view, standpoint, position, stand,stance, angle, slant, attitude, frame of mind, frame of reference,approach, way of looking/thinking, vantage point, interpretation

    “her perspective on everything had been changing”
    • true understanding of the relative importance of things; a sense of proportion.
      “we must keep a sense of perspective about what he’s done”
  3. 3.
    an apparent spatial distribution in perceived sound.
Origin
late Middle English (in the sense ‘optics’): from medieval Latin perspectiva (ars)‘(science of) optics’, from perspect- ‘looked at closely’, from the verb perspicere, fromper- ‘through’ + specere ‘to look’.

Just poems

 

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http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet_read.aspx?ID=30701

 

 

 

I have got some of my poems on this website if you prefer not to read my other posts.I don’t have everything there.

Being sad is no disgrace

The bell rang on the ancient church at noon.

A sparrow flitted to  the Tudor wall.

Was this the knell  which brings us  damned gloom?

 

Perhaps there is no meaning here at all.

I read my unknown thoughts projected out,

And  in my rage, desire the walls to fall.

 

Like you, I am too  often stuck in doubt.

Betrayed by old ideal and vanished wish.

So what is in confuses that without.

 

Oh,pain, oh ,mind, oh agony, oh flesh.

I shall not cling to life and wait for grace.

I am, myself, a fish in net of mesh.

 

Was this my  destiny, my rightful place;

Alone besieged by sorrows on all sides?

I  err for  being sad is no disgrace.

 

So ,to my hopes, I’ll cling like drowning beast.

Until my invitation to the feast.

 

 

 

 

But moreover, the clock always chimes

 

 

DSCF0008Halation    spoils photos sometimes.

And also, can I find  all its rhymes?

The light  is too bright

For the middle of the night.

But  moreover, the  clock always chimes

Love shall be my song.

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Underneath the sweet sky, lover,
You shall be the one.
You were with me in the dark
When all the rest were gone.When the trees throw out green leaves
I’ll love you all night long.
When the flowers fill the cornfields
Love shall be my song.

Poppies red.and linseed blue
Shall decorate my dress.
Hold me in your arms tonight
While I my love confess.

Meadows filled with buttercups
Fill my inner eye.
I love the scent of minty leaves
When my mind is all awry.

I see the sun through closed eye lids
And rose scent’s in the air.
Wherever summer joy comes from….
We have had our share.

 
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Definition: What Is Terza Rima?

http://study.com/academy/lesson/terza-rima-rhyme-scheme-definition-examples-quiz.html
http://poetry.about.com/od/poeticforms/g/terzarima.htm

In many cases, we can tell that a piece of writing is a poem just by hearing it read out loud. This is especially easy if a poem rhymes. Of course, not all poems rhyme in quite the same way. In formal verse, there are many different arrangements of rhymes, or rhyme schemes, to choose from. One such rhyme scheme is terza rima.

aba, bcb, cdc, ded, efe,

 

Terza rima is a rhyme scheme that uses tercets (three-line stanzas) and a pattern of interlocking end rhymes(rhymes that occur at the ends of lines). This interlocking pattern is often describing using the following letters:aba bcb cdc ded . . . and so on. As you can see, each tercet contains a rhyme from the one that comes before it. To be more specific, the second rhyme in one tercet becomes the first and third rhymes in the next tercet. This pattern can go on as long as the author wants, traditionally ending with a couplet or a single line that rhymes with the second line of the second-to-last stanza (for example, ded ee or ded e).

Terza Rima in Dante’s Divine Comedy

To get a better understanding of how this unique rhyme scheme works, let’s look at an example from terza rima’s early history. The earliest appearance of terza rima was in Italian poet Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy in the fourteenth century. The following example is an excerpt from contemporary American poet Robert Pinsky’s translation of Dante’s Divine Comedy:

As I drew nearer to the end of all desire, (a)
I brought my longing’s ardor to a final height, (b)
Just as I ought. My vision, becoming pure, (a)

Entered more and more the beam of that high light (b)
That shines on its own truth. From then, my seeing (c)
Became too large for speech, which fails at a sight (b)

Beyond all boundaries, at memory’s undoing– (c)
As when the dreamer sees and after the dream (d)
The passion endures, imprinted on his being (c)

Though he can’t recall the rest. I am the same: (d)
Inside my heart, although my vision is almost (e)
Entirely faded, droplets of its sweetness come (d)

The way the sun dissolves the snow’s crust– (e)
The way, in the wind that stirred the light leaves, (f)
The oracle that the Sibyl wrote was lost. (e)

If you listen carefully, you’ll hear that few of the rhymes in this example seem a bit off, but the sounds of the words are still fairly similar. This is called slant rhyme. You may also have noticed that the example doesn’t end with a couplet or a single line. This is because this example is taken from the middle of a canto (or section) in a larger work.

Higher Forces

I had a marmoreal man.

His first name was said to be John

He  wrote. please do not text me,

I’ve had a vasectomy;

And I don’t know  just what to put on.

 

What did he mean? I enquired.

Men are afraid of desire.

Was he short in his wardrobe,

In which case, use cardboard!

Be specific in what you require.

 

He went back to Durham last year.

I do think desertion’s unfair

They said he was dying

But they were all lying.

For I believe  High Force is there.

 

 

Till I called “immemorial” in a tutorial.

I used to dream  lots while awake.

But ,unusually, I  never spoke

Till  I called “immemorial”

In a tutorial.

I realised I needed a break.

 

I  then met an old Cambridge don.

 

Dr Leavis in his  person.

He was a great critic;

Perhaps too acidic.

Then a wind blew and Leavis was gone.

 

We were studying  topology algebraic

It’s new, though it does sound archaic.

Then harmonic series,

Which led to some queries.

Like,what is  Ptomelemaic?

 

Isn’t that a beautiful word?

My spelling  verges on the absurd.

Still,patterns attract me;

Men might distract me,

From what acts have never occured.

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

Stupidity about dementia

My husband was walking back from the train station across a green.He couldn’t recall any more.He had got a hypo and fell unconscious onto a War Memorial.He broke his nose,cheekbone and other things.

I heard the doorbell ring.There was an ambulance in which a paramedic was screaming at him.She asked me if he had dementia as he failed to answer her queries about who was PM etc

It was obvious he had no idea why he was in an ambulance.Or why the 2 people were shouting at him.He was covered in blood and his eye looked as if it might fall out.Luckily his specs protected it.

I told them to shut up and explained quietly what had happened.He was as normal as anyone might be.

Why would a paramedic think shouting at someone old and semi-conscious was a good idea?

BTW I had told the doctor  he was over-medicated and had fallen before but I was told his health was  a secret I had no right to discuss.