A triolet can act as a device
That stops the flood of feeling drowning all
If it embeds a phrase for wiser eyes.
A triolet can act when well contrived
To measure out right feelings in due size
Then we are sheltered from apocalyptic falls
A triolet’s a poem , a rhymed device
To contain the flood of feelings which appalls.
Month: October 2016
Interview not to be missed
No woman
No woman ever can be what he dreams Nor can they give comfort,not a goad Yet every night he plots and thinks and schemes. And rarely does he ever go abroad. No food he eats will satisfy his tongue. The best wine is as naught to mother’s milk. He grumbles and will not admit to wrong. I‘ve known more men than him of this same ilk. No bed can be the right one for his sleep. No sheets and pillows suit his wary skin. He often has made gentle maidens weep Crying out they’re too fat or boney thin.’ Beware the man who never can adapt For in own lone wishes he is trapped
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Red maple tree
I lie back in the weather-proofed green chair To gaze up at the flowering maple tree. Now, touched by sun,lungs full of scented air I embrace with joy the beauty I now see. Old celandine show brightly by my feet Neglected currant bushes straggle round the path There is no birdsong yet a silence sweet Soothes my heart and quietens my wrath. For my heart's sore and anguished is my mind Yet in this little wood I feel deep calm. My eyes are shadowed and my face is lined. May this green spring bring me a gentle balm. For even in depression and deep grief, The mind makes healing medicine of a leaf.
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We like the vaguely vogue
Surprise them by lying real vague like a dead ghost
A dread like a wolf’s toe nail hit me.Chiropody fee required.
Shake the tiger by your wail and you will be safe ,or play dead
Slow longings make doubt rise
If only balls could talk,we’d be nuts.
The spout was swilling the kettle’s back on the fire
Think outside the frocks
Prick your seeds daily
But at the dividends of the delay we’d be ok
Plenty will fish with no sea,some with no rod,pole or perch.
Every god has their decayed half life
She smoked like a tea pot in a brandy store and boy,what pot!
She owed Leonard Cohen a poem.Without knowing ,he was morally inbred
Hell ,he eased her pain.His real name.Norman,morning
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Ideas can be concealed
I thought I'd write some poetry, Though my thinking was too blind. So I called into the Ideas Library To see what I could find. I looked through rows of new ideas but none of them appealed, I turned and tripped and banged my head, where ideas can be concealed. If you bang your head extremely hard You really do see stars. but don't do this to loosen thoughts, It's the riskiest method by far I spent the night in hospital, Awakened every hour I was advised to watch my step And avoid the Ideas Tower. I wonder if there is a shop Where ideas and dreams are sold? For just a small expenditure, Put your creative mind on hold. But if you can't afford to pay The library is still there. Just look around and use your mind. Ideas are everywhere. The interaction of the world With vision,thought and mind, Produces many new ideas. Those who seek shall find.Idea
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Two famous writers talk
The best villanelles of all time
http://www.thehypertexts.com/Best%20Villanelles.htm
One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
Elizabeth Bishop wrote a small handful of truly great poems such as “One Art,” “The Fish” and “The Armadillo,” and can probably be considered a major poet for those poems alone. “One Art” bends a few rules here and there, with good results, and manages to be both clever and moving at the same time: a considerable accomplishment.
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Rosa Benchez almost gives a lecture
Professor Rosa Benchez was in the staff-room at Mid-Rise-Jeans University collecting her mail and having coffee at 9.30 am on Monday morning after running 10 miles on her rowing machine.It rowed and she ran
How are you,Rosa? enquired Danny her friend and colleague in the School of Learning.
I’m feeling extremely insignificant today? she replied.I am giving a lecture on Semiotics and it’s those French people who use such idiotically complicated language.We all know that an object like a bird has to have a name before we can talk about it.
Well.,said Danny, I thought you’d just say,”In the pink” as usual to my greeting, so you must feel bad.Does each bird have to have its own name,he continued wonderingly?
Well,it depends on the context, she informed him coolly and enigmatically.
First,if we are looking at birds as a class or set, they just need a name like “bird”.It could have been anything bit somehow it was” bird” that occurred like x is used in algebra.We may just study one bird then we give it a number to identify it.That is its name
Danny gazed at her beautiful bosom under her semi-transparent pink blouse.Did she dress like that on purpose to provoke men or did she feel so insignificant that she didn’t realise anyone could see her purple lace bra and her green silk and wool thermal vest with matching briefs, though fortunately they were invisible
Danny,I’m talking to you, she called sympathetically.Why are you quiet?
I dunno, the world famous biologist replied.Maybe I am not quite here today.
You too,she murmured quietly ,like the stream in Little Walsingham by the ruined Abbey.
Are you anxious about your lectures,she enquired softly and caringly?
No, not really ,he said tearing his eyes away from her revealing clothing.
Is there a biological reason why a scholar like Rosa would wear this unusually exciting outfit.
The truth was more mundane.Rosa bought her clothes in Sales and was indifferent to the way men might feel seeing her like this.After all,did she notice if they wore deep purple underpants that showed above their low rise jeans or gold coins on a chain with matching earrings?
She only looked at their faces while they naturally were drawn to see what amazing and colourful outfit she was wearing that day. and what her lingeries looked like.
What did her partner feel?Had he left her for a woman who dressed in thick beige blouses and stockings with grey skirts?
To dress well takes time and Rosa did not give it enough although so far she had not lectured in a string bikini nor an evening dress she had found in a jumble sale
These French people have made a fortune by re-labelling well know things like birds as “signified” and the word “bird” as a sign!
It reminded her of a sociologist who got a large grant to see if women were more scared walking under a railway bridge at night if there were no streetlight there
The conclusion seems obvious.And that was what they proved “scientifically”
Statistics,numbers, that’s what journals want.
She went to her lecture room and turned on the lights.Eighty students gazed at her happily.She was the kindest and cleverest lecturer in the place.Take that how you will.
Now, she informed them,I put 30 handouts in Dr Bevan-Finnish’s drawer for the seminar but someone has stolen them, she said menacingly.I write these handouts and if they do not appear by noon ,nobody will get another one for the entire semester
With that, she turned to the blackboard and defined ” the signifier”
Well,it’s better than taking the insides out of chickens on a conveyor belt she thought silently as she moaned on while the students took notes.
After lunch Rosa was in the staff room talking to some women colleagues when Dr Bevan -Finnish came over,blushing dark red as he approached.He said the handouts were back
Why is he so shy, Rosa asked herself,not realising it was her outfit that provoked his blushes.And that is a very important thing to remember… whoever we are with affects us so a bold man like Bevan-Finnish seemed shy when with Rosa whereas with another more sensibly dressed woman he was quite at ease.
There may be a few men who are not affected this way but not many otherwise the human race would die out and then where would we be?Nowhere!
What a pity nobody tells a lady like Rosa the facts of life so she goes about causing sinful longings in her colleagues quite oblivious.Even some of the women were getting affected but nobody dared to tell her.At least it drew students to her lectures and who knows, they might have learned some Linguistics as well.And it kept them off the streets.Which streets nobody knows.Yet!
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Photographing wildlife
Nemesis
October 14, 2016
noun NEM-uh-siss
Definition
1 a : one that inflicts retribution or vengeance
b : a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent
2 a : an act or effect of retribution
b : a source of harm or ruin : curse
Examples
“My nemesis was a young woman who, at the end of the film, had the honour of sending me to my doom at the bottom of a well. Her name meant nothing to me then: Jennifer Aniston.” — Warwick Davis, Dailymail.com, 10 Apr. 2010
“The leaves were pale … and, upon closer inspection, the stems had small nibble marks on them. I immediately suspected slugs since they’ve been my nemesis in the past so I sprang into action.” — Susan Mulvihill, The Spokesman Review (Spokane, Washington), 21 Aug. 2016
Did You Know?
Nemesis was the Greek goddess of vengeance, a deity who doled out rewards for noble acts and punishment for evil ones. The Greeks believed that Nemesis didn’t always punish an offender immediately but might wait generations to avenge a crime. In English, nemesis originally referred to someone who brought a just retribution, but nowadays people are more likely to see animosity than justice in the actions of a nemesis.
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Parting
You then revealed the face within your face
Tender,gentle, vulnerable and kind
Yet rarely do you feel secure or safe
Outside the sacred space of your own mind.
The look eludes the words that might describe
So rare to let another see our soul.
And when we ask, the vulnerable defy
Sacred is the place and high the toll
With pathos in your eyes, you went away
I was standing on the platform by the train.
Unmoving,still, I stood in silent prayer
As if you were near death and all was vain.
We hide ourselves in fear of wounds too deep,
Yet, all alone, the price may be too steep
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A fear of tragic pasts feared imminent
You revealed the face within your face
Human,lonely,humbler than the ant
The pathos in your eyes made sad my gaze
The other face, phlegmatic, has no grace
With it ,you appear quite confident.
Yet you revealed to me your hidden face
I know now of the suffering of your days
A fear of tragic pasts feared imminent
The pathos in your eyes made sad my gaze
The Lord says you’re his lamb and gives you grace.
Yet you must hide from men intolerant
You revealed the face within your face
Like Jesus, you were scourged and in disgrace
You wandered feebly like itinerants
The pathos in your eyes makes sad my days
If God exists then would he not embrace
The lost, the lonely, even the vagrant?
You revealed the face within your face
The pathos in your eyes made men seem base.
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Addicted
I now spend all day trying to compose a message for my answering machine.I have become addicted to it as my voice sounds so lovely.In the end, I revert to the default one which is a man with no accent.After that, a lady thanks you for phoning.I am unsure why.I’d prefer to thank all those shops and insurance companies for not phoning me not to mention some of my former colleagues, the London Mathematical Society ,those poor students I once taught at a premier university ,[sounds like football]The Pope,The Archbishop, the Chief Rabbi and the Mormons.And Donald Trump….and all the other people I taught but no longer wish to remind myself of.And if you want to marry me I do not play dumb.I never was good at acting.Moreover, women do not enjoy scrubbing your hankies and ironing your underpants.You see, they did not teach that at University.Strange,isn’t it?After all, we were in an all women’s college.
I accept men don’t enjoy driving on the Underground or killing pigs.What’s the answer? An ex blogger used to say he ate as much meat as he could.But would he kill the animals?I think not.I only eat potatoes now as I am almost Irish.My bones are Celtic except for my skull which is Scandinavian.I bet you’d never have guessed that from my writing.We have long heads and also we take a large size in hats.So ” one size fits all” is not true.Why do they lie? I think paranolia is arriving so I am leaving
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Semiotics:a sign has two parts
http://visual-memory.co.uk/daniel/Documents/S4B/sem02.html
A sign consists of the signified and the signifier.If what is signified is love,the signifier may vary … it can be a “x “.a bunch of flowers, a poem.Of course it may be misunderstood if two people come from different cultures/countries or even different parts of the same country with maybe a different form of Christianity,with an atheistic family etcSome people tend to see a meaning in an act or word that was not intended…if carried too far it can lead to paranoia…I can imagine writing a funny play based on such confusion
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Give me your hands
I can’t love you
without loving the whole world too.
I can’t open my heart
unless everyone can be part
Wait for me.
I’m not afraid.
Wait for me.
I may be delayed.
I see you in my mind
Smiling, sad and kind.
I can’t love you
Unless I love the lost too.
Give me your hands
Outstretched across the strands
We’re all one.
Life has begun
I’m not afraid.
Wait for me.
I may be delayed.
I see you in my mind
Smiling, sad and kind.
I can’t love you
Unless I love the lost too.
Give me your hands
Outstretched across the strands
We’re all one.
Life has begun
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Don’t allow your seriously ill /dying relative to be sent a rehab centre
I found this journal entry by accident. The place I don’t name is meant for people recovering from hip replacements who need rehab.
My husband had severe heart failure.When you have this your lungs and other organs get filled with fluid.You don’t feel hungry.You lose weight and look like people starving in places I am not going to mention
My husband had severe heart failure.When you have this your lungs and other organs get filled with fluid.You don’t feel hungry.You lose weight and look like people starving in places I am not going to mention
Saturday May 30th 2015 North London
-
My husband is still alive.When I went [ to M Unit in St M’s once a hospital ]on Thursday he was having a severe prolonged asthma attack.coughing up some sticky sputum and rolling about wildly in his bed.Apparently they were lying when they said they had the asthma medication in stock so he had not had his preventative spray for 2 nights and one morning.He looked dreadful.They had the spray you use when having an attack but nobody gave it to him.They said he was ok when a doctor had visited in the morning.I did not know that there was no doctor on site.It was a GP-led unit bit is now nurse -led.Say no more.Cheap place to toss the old
It is not a hospital but rehabilitation centre.. do you need rehab to get to heaven?
They could not call a doctor until after 6.30 pm when they could get the emergency out of hours service we get by calling 111.No doctor locally could be called.. why not?I have no idea.They must be the only people in the UK who cannot call a doctor out urgently even when someone is 2 days from death
As I was going to bed at 11 pm the phone rang and a woman asked for me.I thought it must mean he was going to die soon but she wanted to know when he last had a chest X ray.Why had they not rung the surgery we go to?
I don’t know by heart the dates of his various tests but of what use would it be? Can you imagine my night?
He was not dying right then, they just wanted me to know a doctor had just arrived 8.5 hours after he had suffered the severe bout of asthma.He now has a chest infection acquired after only 24 hours in the place.
They blamed me for his not eating because I had not brought his dentures [which he had lost] Heart failure is called the wasting disease
I found the dentures in a book case and took a cab round,told the Sister and gave him the top ones to put in.
Shortly he turned red and his throat began to rattle loudly;he gasped for air.He had swallowed the denture
Philip ran round the bed and managed to open his mouth and get his finger in to grab the denture.
Shortly the Sister and a nurse came down…. he was still a funny colour and had eaten little.She then whispered to the nurse,get him down for a soft diet.
He had been given a so called Jacket potato with some cheese when they knew he had no dentures….. what were they playing at.?
One nurse was in the garden on her mobile and two others chatting in the office.I noticed the man opposite had fallen half out of bed so I ran into the corridor and shouted for help.
As I was leaving, fortified by a biscuit I had found, I saw an alarm flashing for bathroom 4 but nobody was reacting.They say I am too anxious about him and I should stay here at home and watch TV.I rarely do that normally
Don’t medics know anxiety maybe appropriate?Call this respite? Just buy me a gun!
….
Either I am mad or they are all mad.
[He died peacefully in A and E on June 1st 2015 , less than 2 days after I wrote this,surrounded by caring nurses and some friends.I sang to him and he smiled at me.Then he went.The hospital could not have been better.He should have been there earlier.What care, what love the nurses showed]
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One consolation proportionate to his affliction;
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Tenderness
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Ribald stories
A spaniel in the lion’s den.
Samsung and Delilah.
The garden of weeding
The pen commands it.
Roses ruined the concert by roaming 40 times
Wash your clothes in an Oasis?
Babraham and wise cracks
Was Jesus retired?
A camel has nowhere for me to thread it.
The pleading of the faux thousand
St Paul had a few wits.
Lazarus was well read before Jesus snatched his book off him
Salvation is a new face cream
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As if my heart’s been stung by monstrous bees
I wish to live despite my love has died
And I have nothing but a cat to feed and stroke.
In memory, my love will long abide
Though as I write I feel my spring has broke.
My grammar and my spelling are perverse
I used to make religion out of these.
But now I feel that life is getting worse.
As if my heart’s been stung by monstrous bees
In such a state my words may get confused
My sentences are senseless as they’re writ
And as for syntax, it is now abused
As round this room the ghosts of lovers flit.
My grammar is not perfect yet it be
Sad ,I can say just the same of me
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I have seen the face within your face
I have seen the face within your face
Humbled ,showing pain which rent my heart
I have felt the ache of your disgrace
You felt worthless like a worm misplaced
Your heart was struck too keenly by sharp darts
I have seen lthe face within your face
A child whom no one even once embraced
Your reticence and silence played its part
I have shared the ache of your disgrace
A bullied child who came last in the race
I condemn men blind , who had no heart
I have seen the pain hid deep inside your face
Then your mask slid into its old place
You caught the train and re-lived this same hurt
I have shared the ache of your disgrace
I hate the people proud but, to me ,base.
Who made your soul and all your being smart
I have seen the face within your face
I have known the ache of your disgrace
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Goodness me
Mary had soon spotted her 98 year old frail yet virile husband Stan; he was across the road talking to a young ,blonde and buxom woman
Mary ran over the road in front of all the traffic as she was terrified of Stan getting another mistress.
Hi,I am Mary, she said proudly
I am called Sabrina.I’m a mathematician too, over for a year from Babylon University the USA
Why,hello,Sabrina.Stan loves clever women… and in your case,you also have great beauty,she said honestly but enviously
Hi Mary,Stan told me you were out buying some vaseline in the pharmacy down the other end of the town.He invited me to coffee.
Oh,damn,I must have had a senior moment.It was that Jazz Band that distracted me.I forgot about that Vaseline.
Come on,ladies,said Stan as he led them into a brand new coffee shop staffed by delightful smiling Turkish people.He ordered three cappuccinos plus some milk for Emile who was in his backpack.
They sat down by the windows and gazed at the folk passing by in some rather unusual clothing.Emile was sad there were no other cats around
Sabrina was wearing a short pink velvet dress on her curvaceous body and green high heeled shoes on her dainty feet.
Do you find wearing velvet is very warm in the summer?,asked Mary.She was wearing a long cotton dress and some flat open toed pink sandals from Hotters.
Well,it’s cotton velvet,Sabrina told her.Most is polyester now.I made this myself.I enjoy sewing.
I have never learned to sew,Mary told her nervously.I was afraid of the electric sewing machine at school and my mum was very impatient. Still,it’s probably cheaper nowadays to buy your clothes ready made.
Soon the women were engrossed in a discussion of their favourite fashion shops and styles; colours and shapes.occasions and casual clothing
I like a pure new wool coat in winter,said Mary.I find down filled coats seem to make me perspire too much or even feel faint if I am in a Department Store.
Anyway,it’s my face which sweats.I can’t put antiperspirant there…
No,it is likely to give you a rash and anyway the body needs to sweat to get rid of toxins,Sabrina informed her scientifically yet charmingly.
I don’t mind sweating lower down, like on my legs,Mary said.
But it’s embarrassing giving a lecture on why “e” is not an algebraic number with rivulets of water running down my face washing off my foundation cream and powder..though do the students notice?
Yes,that is a real problem,Sabrina said wisely.I never knew anyone still wore powder.I like creme de mousse foundation myself.Natural beige suits most women of our colouring though rose beige is good too.Do you wear lipstick at work?
Meanwhile ,Stan sat and gazed pensively at Emile……..he rolled his eyes and Emile smiled in his cat manner; that is,he grinned.
I came here to talk naughtily and sexily to sweet Sabrina,not to listen to both women discussing sweat and antiperspirants.,Stan continued.
Well,life is what happens when we are busy washing out our pans,Emile told him pointedly
I don’t think that is quite right,said Stan. And I have already washed all the pans and hoovered the ceilings…
Well,you see, much of life is out of our control.That’s why people like to take the Bible literally.They prefer to think End Times are here than to realise life is always changeable and unpredictable.Anything seems better than uncertainty or doubt.Yet see how it creeps back even in physics!
How have you found teaching topology,Mary asked Sabrina.Do you like drawing diagrams of doughnuts?
I find it’s more fun than teaching logarithms,she continued,and exponentials… some people find that a tough topic,
Yes,I love teaching topology… and functional analysis.Even quantum theory can be fun
Blimey, thought Stan, this is even worse than sweat and antiperspirants.I hate maths.Why did I ever marry Mary?She seemed so beautiful and deferentially shy then.
I use lily of the valley soap,he cried,interrupting the ladies.
Why,are you going gay? asked Sabrina with great and unusual interest.
No,I just use whatever Mary is using.I have no choice.She liked it
Why don’t you buy him some soap smelling of parsley,she asked Mary.Or can he not buy some himself?
Why, can you get that? Mary responded.Coal tar is one we tried but he hates it…I think for men there’s not a lot of choice.
But,Sabrina cried,A man smelling of lilies of the valley might cause a disturbance,even a riot in a small town like this.And would he like that?
Why should women have all the lovely smells and men smell of coal tar and smoke?Stan asked.Men like flowers too,you know.
The ladies looked at him with wonder as they sipped their lovely large cappuccinos.
I never thought of that before,Mary said dreamily
Neither did I,Sabrina added.. this is not related to my work but my fiance is a psychologist and he’d like to know about it.
Alright,ladies… time to go.Emile needs his dinner.So off they went all wrapped in their thoughts like feathers stuck inside a fluffy pillow on a big bed.
Not what anyone had expected…but change is good for us,surely? Now we can wonder what sort of soap Dave,the delightful paramedic wears.. and does he use a 48 hour deodorant..?
Please wait calmly as excitement wears people out.I am not responsible if you fall over your own feet after reading this; do not break your crown for any reason.
Mary ran over the road in front of all the traffic as she was terrified of Stan getting another mistress.
Hi,I am Mary, she said proudly
I am called Sabrina.I’m a mathematician too, over for a year from Babylon University the USA
Why,hello,Sabrina.Stan loves clever women… and in your case,you also have great beauty,she said honestly but enviously
Hi Mary,Stan told me you were out buying some vaseline in the pharmacy down the other end of the town.He invited me to coffee.
Oh,damn,I must have had a senior moment.It was that Jazz Band that distracted me.I forgot about that Vaseline.
Come on,ladies,said Stan as he led them into a brand new coffee shop staffed by delightful smiling Turkish people.He ordered three cappuccinos plus some milk for Emile who was in his backpack.
They sat down by the windows and gazed at the folk passing by in some rather unusual clothing.Emile was sad there were no other cats around
Sabrina was wearing a short pink velvet dress on her curvaceous body and green high heeled shoes on her dainty feet.
Do you find wearing velvet is very warm in the summer?,asked Mary.She was wearing a long cotton dress and some flat open toed pink sandals from Hotters.
Well,it’s cotton velvet,Sabrina told her.Most is polyester now.I made this myself.I enjoy sewing.
I have never learned to sew,Mary told her nervously.I was afraid of the electric sewing machine at school and my mum was very impatient. Still,it’s probably cheaper nowadays to buy your clothes ready made.
Soon the women were engrossed in a discussion of their favourite fashion shops and styles; colours and shapes.occasions and casual clothing
I like a pure new wool coat in winter,said Mary.I find down filled coats seem to make me perspire too much or even feel faint if I am in a Department Store.
Anyway,it’s my face which sweats.I can’t put antiperspirant there…
No,it is likely to give you a rash and anyway the body needs to sweat to get rid of toxins,Sabrina informed her scientifically yet charmingly.
I don’t mind sweating lower down, like on my legs,Mary said.
But it’s embarrassing giving a lecture on why “e” is not an algebraic number with rivulets of water running down my face washing off my foundation cream and powder..though do the students notice?
Yes,that is a real problem,Sabrina said wisely.I never knew anyone still wore powder.I like creme de mousse foundation myself.Natural beige suits most women of our colouring though rose beige is good too.Do you wear lipstick at work?
Meanwhile ,Stan sat and gazed pensively at Emile……..he rolled his eyes and Emile smiled in his cat manner; that is,he grinned.
I came here to talk naughtily and sexily to sweet Sabrina,not to listen to both women discussing sweat and antiperspirants.,Stan continued.
Well,life is what happens when we are busy washing out our pans,Emile told him pointedly
I don’t think that is quite right,said Stan. And I have already washed all the pans and hoovered the ceilings…
Well,you see, much of life is out of our control.That’s why people like to take the Bible literally.They prefer to think End Times are here than to realise life is always changeable and unpredictable.Anything seems better than uncertainty or doubt.Yet see how it creeps back even in physics!
How have you found teaching topology,Mary asked Sabrina.Do you like drawing diagrams of doughnuts?
I find it’s more fun than teaching logarithms,she continued,and exponentials… some people find that a tough topic,
Yes,I love teaching topology… and functional analysis.Even quantum theory can be fun
Blimey, thought Stan, this is even worse than sweat and antiperspirants.I hate maths.Why did I ever marry Mary?She seemed so beautiful and deferentially shy then.
I use lily of the valley soap,he cried,interrupting the ladies.
Why,are you going gay? asked Sabrina with great and unusual interest.
No,I just use whatever Mary is using.I have no choice.She liked it
Why don’t you buy him some soap smelling of parsley,she asked Mary.Or can he not buy some himself?
Why, can you get that? Mary responded.Coal tar is one we tried but he hates it…I think for men there’s not a lot of choice.
But,Sabrina cried,A man smelling of lilies of the valley might cause a disturbance,even a riot in a small town like this.And would he like that?
Why should women have all the lovely smells and men smell of coal tar and smoke?Stan asked.Men like flowers too,you know.
The ladies looked at him with wonder as they sipped their lovely large cappuccinos.
I never thought of that before,Mary said dreamily
Neither did I,Sabrina added.. this is not related to my work but my fiance is a psychologist and he’d like to know about it.
Alright,ladies… time to go.Emile needs his dinner.So off they went all wrapped in their thoughts like feathers stuck inside a fluffy pillow on a big bed.
Not what anyone had expected…but change is good for us,surely? Now we can wonder what sort of soap Dave,the delightful paramedic wears.. and does he use a 48 hour deodorant..?
Please wait calmly as excitement wears people out.I am not responsible if you fall over your own feet after reading this; do not break your crown for any reason.
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The books as heard by toddlers
St Sprawls e-whistles
Bitter to the Fallopians
St Quark’s Nostril
St Hath You ‘s Hostel
St Look in Borstal
St Ron’s curds.
St Belle Rang
The End of the Curled is next week
Farmer Weddin’ tomorrow
Rodham and Gomorrha.
The Whore to rend all oars
The Lard is high.
They are waiting for e-partitions
Pardon the angels from leaving so white.
Full in the haunting parts of Home
Little Yeahs , who tweaked the files? This journey may attract beguile
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What children hear
- St Ungracious
St Hairy Jaguar Len
St Brawl the Narcoleptic
St Bleater of Roam
St Ron the divided
St Winces and the words
St Ratherwin of Vienna
St Disgusting the Hippo
St Please Her of Vanilla
St One of the Cross
Little Saint please her.
St Mark off the wall
St One All the drawer
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I will taste divine
Make my heart into a cottage pie.
Already it is minced and lies estranged
My enemies insult me with their lies
And my last will and testament is made.
Already it is minced and lies estranged
My enemies insult me with their lies
And my last will and testament is made.
An onion and a carrot chopped up fine,
Saute with these my heart till all are gold
With herbs and spices, I will taste divine
A mashed potato will a rooftop mould.
Do not forget my blood to use as sauce
Though now it’s cold, with garlic make it boil.
For what is gravy but the blood of choice
With sliced onion in ethereal olive oil?
O foes and devils eat me and you’ll be
Transformed into this self, your enemy
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Phlegmatic
Mike FDefinition
1 : resembling, consisting of, or producing the humor phlegm
2 : having or showing a slow and stolid temperament
Examples
“She said ‘Good morning, Miss,’ in her usual phlegmatic and brief manner; and taking up another ring and more tape, went on with her sewing.” — Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre, 1847
“You are aware of the finality of fate, and tend to have a phlegmatic and sometimes unhappy compromise with your life, even when you long for a definitive resolution.” — Molly Shea, The New York Post, 31 Aug. 2016
Did You Know?
According to the ancient Greeks, human personalities were controlled by four bodily fluids or semifluids called humors: blood, black bile, yellow bile, and phlegm. Each humor was associated with one of the four basic elements: air, earth, fire, and water. Phlegm was paired with water—the cold, moist element—and it was believed to impart the cool, calm, unemotional personality we now call the “phlegmatic type.” That’s a bit odd, given that the term derives from the Greek phlegma, which literally means “flame,” perhaps a reflection of the inflammation that colds and flus often bring.
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Of two lovers,one’s forlorn,
On England’s hills and dales ,we roamed
Up tall mountains we did climb.
Now the Lord has taken you home.
I wish it were my time
Will I never see your smile
On pale and sandy shores.?
How you loved and for a while
You unlocked my door.
Then your heart was worn away
When you saw my scars.
But they say one coming day
There’ll be no more wars.
Even in our human form
Alien life can grow.
Of two lovers,one’s forlorn,
And it shall be so.
I would not wish to go the first,
Leave you pale and thin.
Of two choices one is worse.
The Lord wants you within.
So sail away ,my lover dear
Sail into the deep
I took you to the river near.
So, alone I weep.
I send you all my memories
I send you all my thoughts
And I know, whatever is,
You were whom I sought.
You caught me up,you put me down
I don’t know where I be.
But I will smile and I will frown
I don’t know if I’m me.
Losing,losing,losing you,
Losing our dear life.
Losing,losing,losing you
Am I still your wife?
I’m not me as you’re not here
Who have I become?
But I’ll live, despite my fears.
My life is not yet done.
I lost a leg,I lost a hand
I lost my heart and soul.
Pray for me my lover and
I may then be made whole.
Look at me,from where you be.
Look at me again.
When you look,whom do you see?
I still have my pen
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How to live in an egg box
I was drawn into reading some articles about living in small homes.Now ,to my mind, it’s like solving a mathematical problem.What do you know that is relevant, if anything? Does it remind you of another problem you dealt with?
So before reading anything I decided to see what ways I can think of.
I am not going to spend a fortune on having a bed that folds into the wall nor on buying specially designed kitchen units.What a daft name.What was wrong with the old kitchen table where I used to bake cakes from The Penguin Jewish Cookbook which advises one to cover the entire table in newspaper before cooking it.
Elizabeth David says to take off all your rings before mixing cakes as otherwise one guest may find a diamond ring in the sponge cake and that would be hard to reclaim..If you want to, put a 20 pence coin in should you wish a cracked tooth on an enemy.
Personally ,I keep my watch in the fridge and a ring in my nose.That seems okWhat is the easiest way to live well in a small place?
One would not think Jesus was a role model for domestic queries; however giving away all your possessions is a great start.Maybe not ALLbut discard any surplus clothes, utensils, and books.And only have one lover at a time as they may fight and they take up space as well.And Elastoplast is not cheap and A and E has been knocked down
Maybe your flat/tent.carvan will look much bigger already.
The obvious things are getting utensils which are multifunctional.Washing up a lot rather than buying more cutlery.Avoid shopping as a hobby.Put things away.
If only it were this simple…… so what purpose do these possessions serve? Perhaps owning a cat would be more pleasant.And in my case ,I can’t put things away, as there is nowhere to put them.So I am giving them away.Starting with this laptop and this horrible brown chair.
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A straightforward demonstration on how to write poetry
We don’t meet
We do not see new people as they are
We clothe them in the dress of people past
Freud gave names to this and more bizarre
We still do not see people as they are
But “recognise” in them who we look for
Reality will have them soon declassed
We do not see new people as they are
We embed in them the love of people past.
This love unreal will soon give way to hate
They ought to be whom we wish them to be.
Then down on them, we bring the hand of fate
This love unreal will soon give way to hate
We do not even think it’s our mistake
Nor that from our desires they should be free
All love unreal will then become our fate
They ought to be our longed for fantasy.
How my heart sings 
“With regard to the sharpest and most melting sorrow, that which arises from the loss of those whom we have loved with tenderness, it may be observed, that friendship between mortals can be contracted on no other terms than that one must some time mourn for the other’s death: and this grief will always yield to the survivor one consolation proportionate to his affliction; for the pain, whatever it be, that he himself feels, his friend has escaped.”
– Dr Samuel Johnson