The way we say it

 

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Someone has just realised that in psychoanalysis the way the therapist speaks and the manner it is done in are as important as the words.

In other words,it’s poetry.

Surely that is true in all relationships?

Two religions are better than one

Pray Father,give me your guessing.
My guessing!Don’t you mean my blessing.
Oh,probably.Possibly..who knows.
So have you any sins to tell me?
Yes,I broke a glass jug.
Whose was it?
It was mine,Father.
Surely it’s not a sin to break your own jug?
It is if you hit yourself on the head with it!
What made you do that?
I was angry with myself…I had been committing effrontery.
Do you mean adultery?Your main problem seems to be bad language.
No,Father I never say” Fuck”
You just did.
Well I had to do.I had no choice!
That’s what they all say…if only I heard some original sin I’d find life more interesting.
Well,it’s hard to think of anything original to do especially if it has to be a sin too.
You are just not using your creativity.
All right Father,Put your hands up.i’ve got a gun.
Where did you find that?
In my wife’s handbag.
Now we are getting somewhere.. that’s threatening a priest,interfering in your wife’s privacy and stealing a gun.Any other sins?
I could shoot you,I suppose.
No.no!That is going too far.
Shall I slap you?
No… just say something rude to me.
Your sermons are the most boring I have ever heard.
Well,that’s enough…I’ve never been so insulted in my life.
You have been very lucky then… you should hear what people say to me!
Well,you are both ugly and unintelligent.I don’t know how you had the nerve to marry.
I had no choice.She forced me.But I gave in quickly in case she changed her mind.
And you have seven children.
No, they are not all mine,And they are Jewish.
How can they be Jewish.
My wife is Jewish!
I thought she was just a lapsed Catholic.
No,she’s Jewish but not even an arranged marriage could be arranged for her so she used her imagination and decided an overweight ugly Catholic would be grateful for her love,
And are you grateful?
Yes, and so are all her lovers!
Who are they?
The curate is one of them and has two children .. they look just like him too.
And does she want them raised as Jews?
She just let’s them rise naturally and go with the flow.

Do they have to wear hats?
Only in the Synagogue!
Are you Jewish too.
Yes,it’s quite handy as we have Sabbath on Saturday and then we have Sunday on Sunday if you see what I mean.
I never met anyone who practised two religions before.;
Well,I figured it would double my chance of salvation!
Well. I must speak to the Rabbi.For your penance you must give £50 to Homeless at Xmas.
Am I absolved.
If you stay any longer you’ll be dissolved!
Thank you,Father.
And take that gun away.I don’t want it.
I can get you a good price for your cassock.
Why,thank you,my child

A duck

 

My boyfriend has gone to the war
Though fighting is not what he’s for
He emended his Will
And left me a bill
On a duck in the mud by the car.

He apprehended my guilt and my fear
Without words he told me I was dear.
He recognised my loss
And sold me some floss
So a my teeth are now right in the clear.

Apprehend me tonight

I’m apprehensive about teaching at the comprehensive school

He is comprehensively apprehensive about incomprehensible ghouls or fools

I’m immeasurably happy today.

We give apprehensive accident cover

App free pensives here

I have prehensile toes

Maps

A doctor may give you advice
Which may  uncomprehendingly  be taken  in  twice.
The first time ‘s the best
And afterwards  rest
Then admire her for she is most wise.

 

A diagram is useful in maths;
Or in comprehending the Underground maps.
But the world is far more
Than these lines can show.
I should mention we never show traps

 

The diaphragm is a muscle I think,
That makes us  each breath and then wink
It divides thorax and abdomen
In ladies and gentlemen;
Inside, both the sexes are pink

Intimations of Immortality

Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

The child is father of the man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
(Wordsworth, “My Heart Leaps Up”)

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
       The earth, and every common sight,
                              To me did seem
                      Apparelled in celestial light,
               The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
                      Turn wheresoe’er I may,
                              By night or day.
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
                      The Rainbow comes and goes,
                      And lovely is the Rose,
                      The Moon doth with delight
       Look round her when the heavens are bare,
                      Waters on a starry night
                      Are beautiful and fair;
       The sunshine is a glorious birth;
       But yet I know, where’er I go,
That there hath past away a glory from the earth.
Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,
       And while the young lambs bound
                      As to the tabor’s sound,
To me alone there came a thought of grief:
A timely utterance gave that thought relief,
                      And I again am strong:
The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;
No more shall grief of mine the season wrong;
I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng,
       The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep,
                      And all the earth is gay;
                              Land and sea
               Give themselves up to jollity,
                      And with the heart of May
               Doth every Beast keep holiday;—
                      Thou Child of Joy,
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy.
Ye blessèd creatures, I have heard the call
       Ye to each other make; I see
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
       My heart is at your festival,
               My head hath its coronal,
The fulness of your bliss, I feel—I feel it all.
                      Oh evil day! if I were sullen
                      While Earth herself is adorning,
                              This sweet May-morning,
                      And the Children are culling
                              On every side,
                      In a thousand valleys far and wide,
                      Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,
And the Babe leaps up on his Mother’s arm:—
                      I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!
                      —But there’s a Tree, of many, one,
A single field which I have looked upon,
Both of them speak of something that is gone;
                      The Pansy at my feet
                      Doth the same tale repeat:
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
                         Hath had elsewhere its setting,
                              And cometh from afar:
                      Not in entire forgetfulness,
                      And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
                      From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
                      Upon the growing Boy,
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,
                      He sees it in his joy;
The Youth, who daily farther from the east
                      Must travel, still is Nature’s Priest,
                      And by the vision splendid
                      Is on his way attended;
At length the Man perceives it die away,
And fade into the light of common day.
Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own;
Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,
And, even with something of a Mother’s mind,
                      And no unworthy aim,
                      The homely Nurse doth all she can
To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man,
                      Forget the glories he hath known,
And that imperial palace whence he came.
Behold the Child among his new-born blisses,
A six years’ Darling of a pigmy size!
See, where ‘mid work of his own hand he lies,
Fretted by sallies of his mother’s kisses,
With light upon him from his father’s eyes!
See, at his feet, some little plan or chart,
Some fragment from his dream of human life,
Shaped by himself with newly-learn{e}d art
                      A wedding or a festival,
                      A mourning or a funeral;
                              And this hath now his heart,
                      And unto this he frames his song:
                              Then will he fit his tongue
To dialogues of business, love, or strife;
                      But it will not be long
                      Ere this be thrown aside,
                      And with new joy and pride
The little Actor cons another part;
Filling from time to time his “humorous stage”
With all the Persons, down to palsied Age,
That Life brings with her in her equipage;
                      As if his whole vocation
                      Were endless imitation.
Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie
                      Thy Soul’s immensity;
Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep
Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind,
That, deaf and silent, read’st the eternal deep,
Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,—
                      Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!
                      On whom those truths do rest,
Which we are toiling all our lives to find,
In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave;
Thou, over whom thy Immortality
Broods like the Day, a Master o’er a Slave,
A Presence which is not to be put by;
Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might
Of heaven-born freedom on thy being’s height,
Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke
The years to bring the inevitable yoke,
Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife?
Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight,
And custom lie upon thee with a weight,
Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
                      O joy! that in our embers
                      Is something that doth live,
                      That Nature yet remembers
What was so fugitive!
The thought of our past years in me doth breed
Perpetual benediction: not indeed
For that which is most worthy to be blest;
Delight and liberty, the simple creed
Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,
With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:—
                      Not for these I raise
                      The song of thanks and praise
               But for those obstinate questionings
               Of sense and outward things,
               Fallings from us, vanishings;
               Blank misgivings of a Creature
Moving about in worlds not realised,
High instincts before which our mortal Nature
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised:
                      But for those first affections,
                      Those shadowy recollections,
               Which, be they what they may
Are yet the fountain-light of all our day,
Are yet a master-light of all our seeing;
               Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make
Our noisy years seem moments in the being
Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake,
               To perish never;
Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour,
                      Nor Man nor Boy,
Nor all that is at enmity with joy,
Can utterly abolish or destroy!
               Hence in a season of calm weather
                      Though inland far we be,
Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea
                      Which brought us hither,
               Can in a moment travel thither,
And see the Children sport upon the shore,
And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
                      And let the young Lambs bound
                      As to the tabor’s sound!
We in thought will join your throng,
                      Ye that pipe and ye that play,
                      Ye that through your hearts to-day
                      Feel the gladness of the May!
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
               Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
                      We will grieve not, rather find
                      Strength in what remains behind;
                      In the primal sympathy
                      Which having been must ever be;
                      In the soothing thoughts that spring
                      Out of human suffering;
                      In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves,
Forebode not any severing of our loves!
Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;
I only have relinquished one delight
To live beneath your more habitual sway.
I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,
Even more than when I tripped lightly as they;
The innocent brightness of a new-born Day
                              Is lovely yet;
The Clouds that gather round the setting sun
Do take a sober colouring from an eye
That hath kept watch o’er man’s mortality;
Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

Acquit language

I apprehended my mother before I acquired language
However I never did fully comprehend her and her motives.needs and desires.
Although I acquired language I never acquited it.What is truth?What is a word?How do we say it?

Apprehend or comprehend

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Bartleby.com  on apprehend and comprehend

Only in the “understand” sense are these words synonyms, although apprehend seems to stress understanding in the sense of “recognizing” (He seems to have apprehended, finally, that he has no standing in the case), whereas comprehend seems to stress understanding as “the intellectual process required to achieve comprehension” (After studying the various proposals, we finally comprehended what all the fuss was about).

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Apprehend

Definition of apprehend in English:

apprehend

Pronunciation: /aprɪˈhɛnd/

VERB

[WITH OBJECT]

1Arrest (someone) for a crime:a warrant was issued but he has not been apprehended

2Understand or perceive:we enter a field of vision we could not otherwise apprehend

2.1archaic Anticipate (something) with uneasiness or fear:he is a man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep

Origin

Late Middle English (originally in the sense ‘grasp, get hold of (physically or mentally’)): from French appréhender or Latin apprehendere, from ad- ‘towards’ + prehendere ‘lay hold of’.

Words that rhyme with apprehend

amend, append, ascend, attend, befriend, bend, blend, blende, commend, comprehend, condescend, contend, defriend, depend, emend, end, expend, extend, fend, forfend, friend, impend, interdepend, lend, mend, misapprehend, misspend, offend, on-trend, Oostende, Ostend, perpend, portend, rend, reprehend, scrag-end, send, spend, subtend, suspend, tail end, tend, transcend, trend, u

To comprehend

Definition of comprehend in English:

 comprehend
Pronunciation: /kɒmprɪˈhɛnd/
VERB
[WITH OBJECT]

1[OFTEN WITH NEGATIVE] Grasp mentally; understand:he couldn’t comprehend her reasons for marrying Lovat[WITH CLAUSE]: I simply couldn’t comprehend what had happened

formal Include, comprise, or encompass:a divine order comprehending all men

Origin

Middle English: from Old French comprehender, or Latin comprehendere, from com- ‘together’ + prehendere ‘grasp’.

A lost embrace

A stifled cry,
A leaking eye
A tenseness in the muscle tone
A look aghast, a muffled groan
A posture altered
Hands that falter
Mind uncertain
Heart a-lurching
Sharp neuralgia in the face
A litttle trace
A lost embrace
No one  reflects my face to me
I’ m not a person now, you see
The overlapping on our maps
The understanding sharing grasps.
I keep emotions all within
For my existence is a sin.
In this way, I squeeze up tight
As if to space I have no right.
A look can kill
Destroy the will
Turn to stone and mute the groan
I’ll be a statue and admired
My marriage licence has expired

Apprehension;

A word with more than  one meaning
aprɪˈhɛnʃ(ə)n/
noun
noun: apprehension; plural noun: apprehensions
  1. 1.
    anxiety or fear that something bad or unpleasant will happen.
    “he felt sick with apprehension”
    synonyms: anxiety, angst, alarm, worry, uneasiness, unease, nervousness,misgiving, disquiet, concern, agitation, restlessness, edginess,fidgetiness, nerves, tension, trepidation, perturbation, consternation,panic, fearfulness, dread, fear, shock, horror, terror; More

    antonyms: confidence
  2. 2.
    understanding; grasp.
    “his first apprehension of such large issues”
    synonyms: understanding, grasp, comprehension, realization, recognition,appreciation, discernment, perception, awareness, cognizance,consciousness, penetration

    “she was popular because of her quick apprehension of the wishes of the people”
  3. 3.
    the action of arresting someone.
    “they acted with intent to prevent lawful apprehension”
    synonyms: arrest, capture, seizure, catching; More

Origin
late Middle English (in the sense ‘learning, acquisition of knowledge’): from late Latina apprehensio(n- ), from apprehendere ‘seize, grasp’ (see apprehend).