Day: May 6, 2016

So much

I feel achey now
My body is unhappy
I shall listen  now

The music soothes me
I hear radio 3 now
It’s on the TV

When violas are soft
I prefer them above all else.
Sing in  the middle.

A day  has layers
Peel them back slowly and wait
One by one they  speak

Maybe not in words
Maybe in new metaphors .
Maybe in silence

Soon the News will come
A Muslim Mayor of London
But does he practise?

I missed going to vote
I felt unwell,pathetic
Could have got a cab.

I feel far away
I don’t count,I don’t notice
I am  alive though

It is night at last
Mozart is playing  sweetly
I miss  you so much.

I can not kiss you
I can not lie in your arms
I can’t shout your name.

But I can see you now
Imitating Cameron
I am smiling at you.

 

 

Gist

What you fish for

Barking  mates seldom  write

Parked with dates  sets men alight

Be careful what you fish for

Seek  out   words to be spectacles

Beauty is  not in the eye of the  revolver

Beauty may be   thin not deep

Behind every great man there’s an aching woman

Better conflate the letters

He congratulates his fetters.

Better laugh  and carry a gun

Better wash and have fun.

Better to light a candle than to rehearse in darkness

Beware of geeks bearing lists

Beware of leaks   of your gist

Beware the Tides of March .Neep.neep.

Small ads to view

7300829_f520

Grief for sale.Tears by the bucketful.
King sized bed for sale.Hardly used.
Men’s cashmere sweaters only £99 each.Clean
Women’s shoes exchanged:Ten pairs of red shoes size 7.Accept 5 pairs of black
Wanted:wig. Hasidic preferred.Nylon if need be.Colour– light brown
Long heavy Jacques Vert winter coat in pure new wool.Large size.Unworn.Purple.
Wanted: soft cotton hankies for widow who weeps a lot.
Wanted:Cat named Alfred.Please come back otherwise I’ll have to get married again.
Free  duvets and covers to first  comer.Clean [very].
Red women’s undies.Large.Unworn.Quality buy.Don’t wait for your new knickers,wear mine
Vests with lace and pocket for mobile needed.Please write
Pens needed with fine nibs.Don’t be shy.Sell it now

Stan visits Mary

 

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Stan flew into Mary’s  lovely bedroom and examined his  stunningly beautiful,sleeping wife.She was still reading Ted  Hughes’ letters and had abandoned Wittgenstein. completely.She was  also reading Sylvia Plath- the poetry of negativity.Strange indeed he thought,for bedtime reading.But she always was a bit different.As usual she had a big box of tissues on her bed.
She had so far not got a new man in her life; he was grateful ,as ,even though he was dead, he liked to come to see her and if another man was in the bed he would feel it wrong to spy on them to see if anyone else could warm up this semi- frozen yet delightful lady and give her what she needed   before it was too late.She was already 89!

2014-01-02 10.12.15-2
Mary woke up all of a sudden and having leaped out of bed ,fell over and was sitting on the rug looking quite  puzzled.With some difficulty  she managed to get up  by turning onto her knees.She then went to the bathroom.
When she came back she tied a silk scarf round her eyes to keep the light out and lay back on her pillows.Stan would have liked to kiss her but was afraid she might get a shock.She didn’t read although one night she did sing psalms in bed before lying down with tears on her round cheeks as she remembered his last moments of human life.
She was still the most untidy person he had ever met and her room was full of pens,boxes of jewellery and scent not to mention  a mountain of clothes,books and garishly coloured shoes and handbags..and a few rather superior ones
He went to the kitchen where Emile was watching the dawn through the glass door.
Hi ,Dad,how’re you doing  up there now?
I am adapting slowly .said Stan.I wonder why you can see me but Mary can’t.
They both sat silently pondering this.
Well, nearly breakfast time,I’ll take another peek at Mary.
He went upstairs and Mary was laughing as she dictated her dreams into a laptop to make a video.
I dreamed Stan was here and he was pulling funny faces at me  which made me laugh so much it woke me up.Then it happened again.
Stan turned and flew gently away thinking Mary must be getting better.
As for him,don’t people know that even in Heaven people miss their partners or children?
Now that’s a research topic for this year.
And don’t say,all of us

Saturday breakfast menu

Forage in the cereals

Corncrakes with b*gger and skinned milk
Weetaflix and whole milk reunited
Porridge on rice with cheese laughter.

 

Hot food

Riled back bacon with legs and battered lead.
Sausages au naturelle  on flayed bread and uprooted mushrooms.
Kippers smoked on the premises.[Better than cigars.]
Scrumpled eggs with black piper on toast
Welsh rarebit and not so rare  bits extra.
Fully mixed grill with burned bits and  computer chips.

Hot drinks

Toffee cappuccino
Tea with bay leaves
Milk on ice
Scuttled water with lemon slice
Hot water
Bath water [lukewarm]
Pass water on request.Ask at the desk.

Pope John 23rd made an aplology

“Shortly before his death in 1963, the spiritual leader of Catholics round the world composed this prayer: “We realize that our brows are branded with the mark of Cain. Centuries long has Abel lain in blood and tears because we have forgotten Thy love. Forgive us the curse which we unjustly laid on the name of the Jews. Forgive us, that with our curse, we crucified Thee a second time.”

It was an awesome admission that reversed almost 2000 years of unjustifiable hatred. Christian anti-Semitism, rationalized as fitting punishment for the Jews guilty of the heinous crime of deicide, killers of Christ, was officially declared “a great sin against humanity.” Jews dared to hope that the distortions of ancient history which prompted Crusades, pogroms and perhaps—as many scholars suggest—even the world’s silence during the Holocaust, were finally put to rest in the dustbin of grievously outdated theological errors.”

It was not to be

No cliches here

  1.  Bark before the dawn,please
  2. Way in,no  way out Hell
  3. As read as a door-mail
  4.  The evil is in the retail park
  5. Crime has  frozen this year
  6. Divide and linger over these gorgeous male pin ups
  7. Fog and no show?
  8. Frog’s days are  short
  9. Some dogs eat logs… dialogues
  10.  The dog  is fired
  11. Please don’t burn your fridges in the garden
  12. I say,don’t count your chickens before they’re snatched
  13. And don’t book a swift hearse if you’re out
  14. Please don’t mock my coat
  15. Don’t strip and float in my pond
  16. Don’t strip on anyone’s ice  floes
  17. Don’t take any wooden knickers in a boat
  18. Gown and  nowt
  19. Frown at the wheels
  20. Blown  with the frumps
  21. Swansdown on her  frock
  22. He put down the latch
  23. Lie down to give birth
  24. I saw the fine  ticket
  25. Do dress as well as your cat
    When will we bat?

Just

Image

At the end of the day,
it all boils down to
what happens in that moment in time
in that split second.
I offer you my words of wisdom,
Don’t delay… you don’t want to be
A moment too soon or too late.
We must listen to our hearts
To find out our gut feelings,
Trust your instincts
And remember,it’s never too early or late,
Or exactly the right moment,
To start saving for a pension.
At the end of the day,
I hope you made your bed
The way you wanted to lie in it..
Though usually,love needs truth
And lying is an art
unlike survival and love;
Though love is not all you need
but love helps us roll along
gathering a little moss.
Ask not for whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee,,
and me too.
But when we sum it all up

We can say,with hand on heart..
we were just following orders
Then the grieving will start.

Tranche?

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S
Word of the Day : May 6, 2016

tranche

play

noun TRAHNSH
PrevNext

Definition

: a division or portion of a pool or whole

Examples

“JPMorgan Chase must retain 5% of each tranche, or class, of notes to be issued by the trust…. The bank must also comply with disclosure and reporting requirements introduced for securitization….” — Allison Bisbey, The American Banker, 17 Mar. 2016

“The sale of a first tranche of shares to private investors via an initial public offering (IPO) … could start as soon as next year, with the eventual aim of being big enough to potentially buy some of the world’s largest companies….” — Terry Macalister, The Guardian, 1 Apr. 2016

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Did You Know?

In French, tranche means “slice.” Cutting deeper into the word’s etymology, we find the Old French word trancer, meaning “to cut.” Tranche emerged in the English language in the late 19th century to describe financial appropriations. Today, it is often used specifically of an issue of bonds that is differentiated from other issues by such factors as maturity or rate of return. Another use of the French word tranche is in the French phrase une tranche de vie, meaning “a cross section of life.” That phrase was coined by the dramatist Jean Jullien (1854-1919), who advocated naturalism in the theater.

Meeting a person’s eyes:Levinas in ordinary life

 Jean-Baptist_Camille_Corot_Breton_Woman_With_Her_Little_GirlThe face to face encounter and its ethical meaning/implications is at the heart of Levinas‘ thought.Just today I was thinking over some personal events relating to this.
A few months ago I went into a cafe and found myself just behind an ex-colleague whom  I regard [note the word] as friend.I could see her husband sitting at the back of the cafe. She did mutter,Hello,but  instead of  meeting me eye to eye and  saying,”my husband wants to be alone”,she went through an elaborate pantomime of mime indicating rejection or keep a distance…which was unpleasant.I would been much happier with a straightforward look and a few words.
Today I had a similar event.I met a woman who used to be my physiotherapist ,again in a queue.She looked at me full on and greeted me  with pleasure.As she picked up  her tray she asked me to join her and her husband plus a grandchild.We had a pleasant time,But if she had said,we are with our family,or whatever,that woulded have been fine too.because she looked at me
I am not saying the first woman ought to have done that.But what interests me is the lack of a willingness to “meet” me with her gaze.I  am entirely happy if people wish to be alone whilst the have coffee but I prefer them to say so.
Some individuals with autism are almost unable to make eye contact…. and this is because others are not real to  them,If we are near someone who will not meet our eyes,it can convey the same feeling.On the other hand,every one has off days and so I feel no anger,just a discomfort as this woman is very articulate and highly educated.I think her husband is quite controlling.
So this made me think about Levinas and about Martin Buber‘s I and Thou
There is also an expression,”he looked right through me”which is also a negative way of facing someone.And also,Cutting someone dead.
Essentially not looking at someone is a form of killing them as you imply they are not part  of society.Like not responding  to someone verbally or in writing.You are saying,You do not exist.

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Do not feel sad
When joy can be had
From seeing which writes are dichotomous.

A plunesh bull in a kitch

Is your spelling far wurse than myne?
Are your thoughts far from sublyme?
Could Jacques Derrida spell?
Could Wittgenstein well?
Answering these questions will take up our tyme

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I’m finding Derrida de-structured

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I’m finding Derrida  de-structured
And Levinas‘ face makes me smile
Who would have conjectured
That one day I’d lecture
On  thoughfullness and all its trials?

I  prefer Kierkegaard to Sartre
Who sometimes makes me feel queer.
Who would have expected
That words would be texted
As men smoked cigarettes and drank beer?

Some people like reading Jane Austen
While others juggle with Wittgenstein.
Who would have discarded
The notes in the margins?
How sweetly these words recombine

Munch liked to paint people screaming,
his premonitions  were strong
Who else would have expected
The human destruction
Europe brought to the world before long?

Friday dinner

Starters

Cod’s  toes on toast
Zipper fillets with garlic lead
Eggs en daube

Mains

Roast grommets and  mixed dirigibles
Lamb in  green sauce with potatoes au Lord
Beef a la Bastille with prisoner’s  fingers in pastry
Lasagne with vegetarian
Macaroni tease with soft egg and shell roasted

Pudding

Baked roly  holy with lamp  oil
Stuffed meringues with hot batter
Rice in green cream  sauce
Spinsters dumplings with whale jelly
Special  ram’s sponge cake with my wife

Losing people

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a_more_jewish_jesus_by_g_owen

 

I have been struck recently by the number of friends and others  of my age who have just lost their parents.And how they seem to grieve severely.When I thought  about it I realised I lost one of mine as a child  of 8 and the other when I was 35 so it seemed strange to me that people around me still had parents at all.
For my father we weren’t allowed to grieve.And my mother was very disturbed as at 15  her mum died and  she had 5 younger siblings and at 42 she had 5 youngish children to rear alone,a   repetition that was most unfortunate.Though she married a man who was known to have fragile health so maybe that was a mistake.It was during the War so maybe Nature took a hand
Then I recalled that my mother lost her mother when she was 15 and my dad lost his dad when he was 18 .
My sister did some research so she soon found neither of our grandfathers even knew teir own fathers’ names.They were both illegitimate.So having two parents who are still thriving after you grow up seems not to have been the case for three generations in my family.Loss was the pattern.Grief was repressed.My mother rarely mentioned her mother who died because they could not afford a doctor when she had problems with the birth of her sixth child.
Her father’s mother had got married when grandad was about 8  and had two daughters but we never heard him mention them.Maybe his mother was ashamed of him being alive.
Well my parents now have 24 descendants and 19 of them have had two parents all their lives so far.They are between 43 and 2 years old.Two of my nephew’s wives have had cancer but are ok now.So the pattern of loss may have stopped.But I just read an article saying that trauma can be passed down the generations so we may suffer more grief than some people do.
I  notice that my siblings and I have had many  serious health problems but whether that is because of bereavement or an inadequate childhood diet  or just chance I don’t know.On the other hand we were all quite bright.And we had not much money to go out so we spent longer studying then other people..we enjoyed it.I didn’t even know  cafes existed until I was 11..  and coffee bars also passed me by.

My father was one of 14 children and as well as losing his father he lost 5 siblings while he was growing up.One was  killed at the Somme.He was much older than Dad.Their mother was destroyed by grief after WW1 as her husband got the flu and died that year.
And fate also caused Dad’s sister to die the day I was born.
My mother was angry with me for being born as my brothers were only 1 and 2 years old.She harboured a belief that babies chose to come here.The fact that she was a Catholic using the safe period method of contraception [ the wrong way round] was not a factor.
I  was born prematurely, learned to talk  in sentences at 10 months,was toilet trained early  and learned to walk  very soon as well.I couldn’t wait to grow up and escape.I’d have been born at 3 months  if it had been  possible!I felt very sorry for my mother always but I had to escape.I felt

Misreading beween the lines

??????????There is  no doubt we  all do this reading between the lines…sometimes consciously,sometimes unwittingly.We attempt to fill in gaps in our knowledge.There are a few problems.One is in cultural differences which may affect us here on the web.We come from very different societies and the meanings of certain words and attitudes does vary considerably;

And another factor is our own desires which we are  not always aware of.We may then interpret someone’s words in a way which fits with our desire or interpret someone using bad language to signify that they do not respect us.If the Soaps are an indication it seems in much of Britain every other word has just four letters. which to me shows poverty of feelings and language… but it means many people are not offended by them…But many still are.

So wishful thinking,ignorance,wanting to believe something,,,,,..cultural ignorance.. all these may make communication difficult.Perhaps we should not read too much between the lines at the beginning of a friendship…and be wary of imputing desires to another when they seem to offer what we are hoping

It’s a bit like the way here nearly everyone puts “love” or “xxxxx” at the end of a letter or email… so that in reality it means  almost nothing at all;Words become meaningless through overuse and we  will have to judge in other ways what a person feels for us..
Some people are more prone to seeing patterns or meanings in things which can be creative but it can also lead to paranoia in the insecure or lonely individual who has become the center of a huge important plot.When I was ill as a child I remember seeing faces leering at me from the wallpaper and the oil heater hissed menacingly,,, it was the fever but I was afraid…We need friends to tell us if our interpretations seem sensible and to comfort us when we are low.. and we need to be wary of assuming too much especially when we come from different cultures

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Mary and the yellow dresses

 

My first drawing
My first drawing

Mary had foolishly eaten some red kidney beans for supper.When she drank her morning tea  she suddenly got a strange  pain in her guts.For the next few hours she was in and out of the bathroom.While in there reading Geza Vermes’ autbiography she heard the doorbell ring
What a pity you can’t answer the door,Emile,she told her cat.She rushed downstairs to see nobody was there.However after shouting loudly a young woman approached her carrying a small table.
I was in the lavatory,Mary told her..I have got stomach pains.Can you not wait a bit longer ?I know you don’t get paid much but please wait next time.
I’m sorry to hear that,the woman told her politely.Oh,what a beautiful cat.
He can talk,said Mary
No,I can’t, Emile shouted
But you just did,Mary laughed
No,that was meta-talk.
I can see you have read Ray Monk’s life of Russell,Mary said jovially
Has  he really? said the lady nervously.
No,he listens  to audio books as he never learned to read.He can’t write either.
Well,thank you ,the lady called as she ran away as fast as she could.
Mary took the table indoors.It was quite small ,just perfect for her chromebook. She had been searching for a long time for this.
After putting the table in the sitting room she rang 999
Hi,Can you send Dave.My toilet seat is a bit loose.
Be right with you,the receptionist said courteously.
Mary debated whether drinking coffee would make her pain worse.She looked at the bag where Stan’s remains were still  hidden.
Shall I have coffee,Stan,she called.
How the bleeding hell do I know,he called graciously, making Mary wonder whether he was in Heaven or the Other Place.
Why are you so angry,she asked him
I am not angry,he said.I just worry about you.
Oh,dear.Sorry, my angel.I am quite alright now I have got this table.The other room is too bright,as you know.I needed a small strong folding table
And I have finally taken all the clean clothes hanging behind the bathroom door and hung them in the wardrobe.And I found some cotton trousers perfect for this hot weather.

2012-05-12 10.31.12-44
Suddenly the back door opened and Annie her neighbour ran in decked in bright yellow
I am hearing voices,she cried.Am I going mad?
No,it’s alright.I was chatting to Stan.
Well,don’t leave him near the party wall.I was just putting on this new yellow dress and deciding on my make-up when I heard his deep voice.So I dropped my make-up box
It’s getting louder,Mary noted.Why is that?
We’ll have to see an Oracle,Annie screamed. I’ve always wanted to but the Church say it’s wrong.
Well meddling in those things can be dangerous,Mary said phlegmatically.There are more things in heaven and earth……..
And why Stan’s voice is louder ,might it  be because the bag is hot with the sun.
Maybe we should  go to the end of the pier at Southend on that little train and then we can toss him int0 the sea.He always loved the seaside.But then we can’t speak to him so easily
Dave the  hermaphrodite and paramedic came in with a box of tissues.
Here I got you these he told Mary.I can”t mend the toilet but I can make you some coffee and take your blood pressure.
I’ll keep my blood pressure here,Mary told him humorously in her pedantic manner.
I suppose you get extra  paid for stealing it!
Well.we only get £45, he joked.
How do you like my dress,Annie asked him
Lovely but yellow is  attractive to bees and wasps.,I believe
Yes,Mary said,I once had a pink skirt and a yellow blouse and it was a nightmare sitting on the beach at Aldeborough. Khaki and beige are safer but they don’t look nice to me.Though I do have some khaki cotton trousers that were £7 in a sale.
Wow,said Annie.That’s cheap.
If I wear a blue blouse I think I will look attractive.
And so bray all of us!

Photo1446

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh,what an oracle

I thought I’d consult a Seer
Who could see that which is not quite here
Oh,what an oracle
Our minds worked in parallel
As into the future we peered.

I suppose we saw traces minute
Which led to conclusions astute.
As I was so thin
And she was not dim
She told me that men found me cute.

But now I am larger in mind
And inestimably more than unkind
The oracle has gone
I don’t need such a one
I predict from my face and its lines.

What does oracle mean?

IMG_0001 (1)
oracle
ˈɒrək(ə)l/
noun
noun: oracle; plural noun: oracles
  1. 1.
    a priest or priestess acting as a medium through whom advice or prophecy was sought from the gods in classical antiquity.
  2. 2.
    archaic
    a response or message given by an oracle, especially an ambiguous one.
Origin
late Middle English: via Old French from Latin oraculum, from orare ‘speak’.

In between two raindrops

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 –
in that timeless moment
in between two raindrops,
in between two tears.