Hear it your way


We often don’t hear what people say even when we speak the same language.Sometimes it’s lack of attention,sometimes unconscious motivations when we don’t wish to know something.And in a foreign country we might try to understand by imagining it is English with a peculiar accent.I come from Lancashire and I am often asked if I am foreign.IMG_0007



À cœur vaillant rien d’impossible.
A curve ain’t ruined  when impossible.
A curved ale wants ruin dim but possible
A curve ain’t tuned  till impossible
A curved  elephant reined in, possibly.
Accurately veiled ruins are impossible

À l’impossible nul n’est tenu.
Al.I’m possibly null; nest tonight?
Al,it’s impossible now,it’s not you.
A limp ,oscillating bull Not any who?

À quelque chose malheur est bon.
At Selkirk choose Mal;hurry,man
A kilt shows Mal’s hairs live on
A Sulker chose Mallory’s a bun

Après la pluie le beau temps.
Apprella,who’s she? Get the boat times.
Appeals and pleas elbow time
I pray that we  get the boat on

L’arbre cache souvent la forêt.
Large cache,Susan,now for it!
Arbitrary dash;savant  rolls  in the forest
Library cash,Sue vents, let’s forget;

Aussitôt dit, aussitôt fait
Aussie toes date? Aussie toes fey!
Ossified totes date…Fay!
Also taught Dee,also  taught Fay.

Autres temps, autres mœurs
Owe Tom,owe,Maire?
Ought we tamper,blight  her hair?
Ought her stem cells to merge?
Over the top,over the murder.
Motor-man, a tremor?
Ode to Tom;ode to more?

Geese fly by

It’s Autumn weather, geese fly by,
Autumn rust,red,gold,so gay
Drystone walls edging fields,
Apples gathered,holly berries
Flash so brightly
Look like flowers
Sun shines sideways,shadows long
Of trees appear.I dwell among
Woods  where gentle beeches sing,
Swaying with the sideward wind.
See their roots, all intertwined.
Feel their geometry in the mind.
Look up now into the sky,
See the V formation high.
Geese fly home at end of day.
My heart is moved by patterned dance
In this peace and great silence
My mind widens like the sky
And in this moment I would die,
So I would stay with this still vision
Of geese set out on autumn mission.
Snails in rain pools slither near
My feet upon the terrace here
And look,upon their whorled backs
All the sense of life is packed.
And yet so easily Life’s destroyed
When blind foot steps into the void.

From the fiery corn

Like a child   past reason  waits for  return
A  hare jumping aghast from  fiery corn
Like an impotent singer  whose voice we spurned
What a child   losing Mother has  learned,has  learned
Like a sinner suffering   that pain which burns
Like  the   old and  lost and all  humans forlorn
Like a child  losing hope of  mother’s return.
A hare  leaps  up high,high from  the fiery corn
Blood red the sun; blow the ram’s horn

Stan teaches a class a sense of proportion

Normal Distribution Cumulative Density Functio...

Normal Distribution Cumulative Density Functions (CDFs) with standard deviation = 1.0 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Stan(d) Off

Stan(d) Off (Photo credit: cenz)


English: Example of two samples with the same ...

English: Example of two samples with the same mean and different standard deviations. Red sample has mean 100 and SD 10; blue sample has mean 100 and SD 50. Each sample has 1000 values drawn at random from a gaussian distribution with the specified parameters. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)



Illustration of Standard deviation

Illustration of Standard deviation (Photo credit: Wikipedia)



Stan was teaching social statistics to a group of elderly neighbors.Since he was 109 it gave them all hope to see him demonstrating his prowess with various techniques.He was planning to do some logic and philosophy too.Annie was sitting by the door so she could answer the bell if any paramedics turned up for tea.
I’m not going to calculate ” the standard deviations” he murmured.”I just want you to grasp the general purpose.”
“Deviations,they’re not normal are they?” enquired his neighbor “Henry,an ex-English teacher.”So how can they be standard.It’s confusing..”
“Are you thinking of deviants?” Stan enquired calmly yet firmly.”Certainly not,at my age I’m a bit past that!””Still it adds a bit of excitement to the class.” he thought.
How do words in ordinary language relate to those in Statistics?”asked Henry kindly.
“They are just more precisely defined in statistics.To say someone is a deviant is a rather vague term.”
“No,it’s not!My neighbor is a deviant.He always dresses entirely in yellow.”
“Well,that must be hard to do.Certainly unusual.” Stan agreed boldly.
“But in another country that might be the norm.So it’s a matter of context.In statistics it’s more boring.There’s a formula.It’s totally independent of context.Have you ever wondered why so many mathematicians have more than a touch of Asperger’s syndrome?”

“No,it’s not something that wanders through my mind much”replied Henry
A shudder passed through the room at hearing the word “formula“,which perhaps they considered something of a deviant!Anything with letters and numbers mixed together is certainly not welcome in many people’s minds, along with their more unusual sexual tastes,desires and inclinations which were kept secret even from themselves in many cases.

“Time for tea.” called Annie,hoping to divert their attention.She carried in a platter of mouse sandwiches kindly donated by the local ambulance service and some iced Victoria sponge she and Stan had made
the day before.
“Just a quick word about next week.We’ll take a look at ratios and proportions and maybe see how that relates to the concept of rationality.”
“That sounds fun!” Annie called encouragingly.Henry decided to act on a deviant desire and fell onto her lap.”Oh,dear!” she gasped loudly as the chair collapsed under her.”Why can’t you be deviant at home?”
“My wife won’t let me!” He kindlily answered.
“And look,” Stan continued,”we’ll have to ring 999.This chair is in fragments.I thought for one day we’d be able to avoid calling them out!”
“Well,life is not controllable.” said a quiet but fierce looking lady with sharp green eyes.”That’s what makes it tolerable“
She then greedily consumed a large piece of iced cake .
“I can stand the thinking if the cake is good” she whispered to her shy friend Amy.
”That’s rather a feeble argument,”Amy retorted.”You can’t really compare cake and statistics.”
“I’ll compare anything I like!” the green-eyed woman snarled loudly.
“You do what you like but you must keep a sense of proportion!”
“Now then,have you rung 999?” Stan queried of Annie.”Yes,here they are,and they’ve got a stretcher for the chair!”
“Well,that’s certainly unusual,even deviant“,Stan thought anxiously to himself.”Where do they get their funding? Is there a fund for distributing money to help chairs which are not normal?

.To be continued..



Speaking figures by Mark Doty


“In her evocative memoir, The Names of Things, the Egyptologist Susan Brind Morrow points to the origins of letters in the observation of nature, how the scuttle of crab claws on sand, for instance, influenced the hieroglyph for “writing.” To use words at all is to use them figuratively; we breathe metaphor, we swim in metaphor, we traffic in metaphor—and the verbs in those three phrases illustrate my point.

Poetry’s project is to use every aspect of language to its maximum effectiveness, finding within it nuances and powers we otherwise could not hear. So the poet needs to be a supreme handler of the figurative speech we all use everyday, employing language’s tendency to connect like and disparate things to the richest possible effects. In poetry, figuration is at its most sophisticated: condensed, alive with meaning, pointing in multiple directions at once.”

 Acts of blindness unmind us

The Urn Burns (All Souls Procession)

The Urn Burns (All Souls Procession) (Photo credit: cobalt123)

Soul Music (novel)

Soul Music (novel) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Father Brown stories by G. K. Chesterton, ...

The Father Brown stories by G. K. Chesterton, Penguin Books edition 1981 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You blot bummed bastard.You bit my bat on its blue bed and brought bread with no butter on it.I am bellowing to be sure you cannot bet on my blog being here for you to bait me with your blistering so called “criticisms”.
Get on board or I’ll beach you forever.Why Bless my bowl,it’sFather Brown.
Hello Father,I am blaming this bigot for berating my blog.
Don’t keep bad mouthing these Bible bashers.They have nothing better to woo.
A beautiful young lady would put them in the bin if she had any barbarism left in her.The inner child is now the inner bear… wild,beguiled and blooming like a buttercup
By the way,I can see your butt.Your zip is not buttoned!Shall I pass a bit of glue over?.
I feel so blue I don’t care if my butt shows.But ladies may be embarrassed
so do button me up.It’s bloody kind of you to bother with a bloke like me.
I am on bail you know for omitting acts of blindness,ignoring black  soled neighbors…I refer to their only  souls.I have been gifted to see inside you and I see your soul is in a glass bowl.What if it breaks into shards of glass?
Don’t keep blathering on.I have a bone to pick with the blacksmith…. about his brother.I am bemused
Don’t let me bother you.I am bone idle myself but accept your kisses willy nilly
Billy! Be off,you bloody bonkers bloke.Never look black,back or  better

In kindly leaves

The sun is glaring hotly at the earth
And birds sleep deep in hidden, secret  leaves
Too much good we  know becomes a curse
The sun is staring fiercely at the earth.
Of fire and ice, which  is ,in truth, the   worse?
Which scientific theories  to believe?
The sun is glaring hotly at the earth
And birds have hidden  deep in kindly  leaves