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We get the impression it’s a very tough place but they do like euphemisms.As for the nuts,what does that mean?
When we begin the slow descent to age
From that peak or maximum of strength
We notice nothing as it has no length
So feel no need to cry or scream in rage
When we begin.
The ” writing on the wall” is on the page.
The well off sink in angst, the workless tense;
We’ve lost our youth, our mind looks for defence
Then we begin the slow descent of age.
Then we begin.
The music that we hum is a slow dirge
An elegy falls from every pen to page
I do not feel it’s good that we should rage
But gently take the shroud of silk or serge
As in the living earth we all shall merge.
Then life begins again

http://www.storyofmathematics.com/19th_poincare.html
Henri Poincaré
Henri Poincaré (1854-1912)
Poincaré deliberately cultivated a work habit that has been compared to a bee flying from flower to flower. He observed a strict work regime of 2 hours of work in the morning and two hours in the early evening, with the intervening time left for his subconscious to carry on working on the problem in the hope of a flash of inspiration. He was a great believer in intuition, and claimed that “it is by logic that we prove, but by intuition that we discover”
Theresa May
Went to say
Tougher than man
I’ll drop that bomb.
Boris is Foreign
Minister for rain.
If it pours
Shut the door.
Owen Smith
Who’s he with?
I never heard of him
Should I be scared of him?
Jeremy Corbyn
Needs a new warning
Socialism’s out?
What is Labour about?
Political animals
Are often criminals
No-one can jail ’em
And no-one can play with ’em
David Cameron
Got a hammering
The referendum
Sorta bent him.
Boris Johnson
Always wants some
Maybe women
Keep ’em coming
Maybe power
He’s missed the hour.
Two roads diverged
Gove emerged
Stabbed Boris’ back
Went off track.
Gove is finished
Boris diminished
Too much light blinds eyes that outward gaze
We cannot see, like Paul on Tarsus Road.
The mystery ‘s inherent in the code.
When we come to parting of the ways
Too much light blinds.
Not a choice of two roads but a maze
With no sat nav or answer to download
Where shall we be at the ending of the days?
What mystery,what horror may unfold
As we stumble through the rubble, by fear crazed
Too much light blinds
As with the whores of Babylon we laze
Don’t we feel a touch of icy cold?
Has the winsome moon become too bold?
Armageddon beckons , who obeys?
Too much light blinds
Good Queen Bess
Felt a bit of regret
As she beheaded her cousin
And another few dozen.
Queen Mary burned
Heretics spurned
So was Jesus pleased
As they crackled and wheezed.
Burning our foes
Brings further woes.
The Hanoverians were brought in
As being Catholic was a sin
Claimants to the throne
Have had life postponed.
Queen Victoria had sex
When dear Albert was vexed
So she provoked him each day
As she sure liked to play.
Their children ruled Europe
Until no one could endure it
The Kaiser made war
And irritated the Tsar.
Empires laid waste
Jews were deemed base.
These studious good folk
Later sent up in smoke.
God read the signs
And black was his mind.
Jesus loved sinners
So are the Nazis the winners?
It’s bloody confusin’
And negates amusin’
Original sin
Can we ever try again?