Day: February 3, 2017

Where nude police with guns strut stiffly by.

 

He says we’re going to bed this afternoon
As melancholy  clouds  droop from the sky
I like the sun to  fry, to heat my womb

I like the flowers each with its  dull dead blooms
On burning   grass with him, I sinned to  fly.
He says we’re getting bail this afternoon

If there is no sun, there is no  moon.
If  we cannot stalk, then we can lie.
I out my sins  to  thrive, to bring  down Rome

I    scorn the  beach, where Europe showed it’s ruined
Nude starched police with guns strut  stiffly by.
He says we’ll have  the climax   S & hemmed,

I sing in tunes invented by my clones
I would be dumb  yet how the grey ghosts sigh
I  hear the sunbeams screaming in the Zone

 

If  it’s   very hot I have  clothes my own
Burkinis  are  the   big hits of today
They says we’re going to Jail this afternoon
I  hope that God will speak  and  throw us down

Howl with discretion

  • 6390429_8d9779479d_m
    She gave him a bowl of discretion and some milk of inhuman kindness
    I have the art and he has the craft but do we have the rhyme?
    Shalll we abandon  lips? Kissing is not to be scorned
    So it’s all about my face then?
    I sleep above the board and my head is underneath the bed.
    Absence makes the heart stray yonder.
    Advent makes my whole heart ponder
    Resolution falters after the facts.
    He said his face was in the hole and his balls was up a tree.Bad grammar!
    His body is still missing apart from his complexion
    He keeps his face up his sleeve since he saw a naked woman
    Why did Achilles not heal?
    The unborn don’t fall down on me!
    Factions speak louder than wholes
    Fictions speak sounder than truths.
    After viewing my own art I need a shrink
    After viewing my own heart I can’t think
    If you show me your part, I can yank
    After suing my own heart I winked.Or wanked?

It’s a cheater

  • My lover broke a wine bottle
    I put him on the bed and took out his splinters withtweezers.
    I stitched him up completely…he’ll be fine in a few weeks time when the cuts are all healed.
    Meanwhile he’s resting in the cat’s basket.And the cat is in bed with me.
    Well,I thought he was a cat at first…turns out to be my ex… he still had a door key.
    He said,what’s going on?There’s a man in a casket.
    I said,No, he’s in a basket
    So he said,how big is your cat.
    I showed him a photo.
    That’s no cat it’s a cheetah,he informed me.
    Just like you,I said naughtily
    So he took the fence and ran away to sea…I hope it floats.
    He ought to join the navy but he wore bottle green.
    Why are bottles green,I wonder?
    And I like blue glass though not in shards.
    So now the cat sleeps in a cot with its kittens… and feeds them all on demand and me as well.
    That’s a saving grace

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It’s not quite infidelity

My husband had never looked less livid

As he died down in old A and E.

His colour was vivid

His hair was  all withered

He cried,Where the hell do  I be?

 

I said,you’re in bed with a lady

So I’ll arrange for a speedy divorce.

You’ll have to hurry,

If you wish to re-marry.

If needs be, I shall use  polite force.

 

He winked at me solemn as Moses

After wandering the Sinai for years.

He said,Dear I love you

There’ no lady above you

Don’t spend too much on my hearse.

 

 

 

Would you like me to marry my lover?

He’s gone cold waiting out in the shed!

He said,don’t ask me yet  for

My  mood’s on a see -saw

Take whom you like when you wed.

 

But first  give me a nice service

Sing Pie Jesu for me!

Your voice is so sweet

It shall be my last treat.

Oh,Lord,how I  deeply love thee.

 

I said that is  very ambiguous

Do you love me  best or Jesu?

He said I love both

Yet I love God the most.

So there’s not very much I can do.

 

 

He imitated a dying   philanderer.

.But alas it was only too real.

My hand on his nose

Almost gave up the ghost.

It froze  and it stuck like a seal.

 

 

Oh,doctor can you separate us

For I am not yet quite dead?

My only concern

Is to take a short turn

As my boyfriend is  alone in the shed.

 

You sinner,the doctor said to me

You committed adultery twice.

Well,I had to be kind

My boyfriend’s half blind.

Is that an excuse for my vice?

 

I didn’t want love in the garden

As we might have frightened a snail.

It’s not quite  infidelity

To love a man gently

When your husband’s as dead as a nail.

 

Anyway,my heart is no  longer alive,doc

In the shadow of death ,life is weak

I pretended to be  wicked

As my husband often  bickered

Diabetics  make their carers feel bleak.

 

I see you were lost in fantasia,

While singing the psalms to your spouse.

I shall forgive you

No-one else lives like you.

You have often kept your wedding vows.

 

What do you mean saying often?

He’s the only man  I’ve ever loved.

For his sense of humour

Cleared out all my  gloomour

I called him my chicken,my dove.

 

The force of procreation is violent

And drives lonely women to bed.

God made us like this

As he made  grass snakes hiss.

Upon hearing this the doc fled!

Don’t sing in your sleep

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They have a colour bar in  our Church.You have to be green  before you can go to Confession on Saturday  night.Otherwise it’s  £50
Men are treated unfairly now.They have to break their own wind!
Women are treated very kindly nowadays.They can turn themselves on with a vibrator to make the bed warm in winter.Alternatively try wearing a nightdress and a  wig in case Leonard Cohen calls on you.If he sings,Ain’t no cure for love,invite him to join you and do your best.After all, he is dead now.
If you feel blue don’t worry.I like to feel blue too.But I  am not dead yet.
And don’t sing in your sleep .I did in 2010 and see what has happened to me.I have this blog!

The consolation of philosophy by W S Merwin

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https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/41124

BY W. S. MERWIN
Thank you but
not just at the moment
I know you will say
I have said that before
I know you have been
there all along somewhere
in another time zone
I studied once
those beautiful instructions
when I was young and
far from here
they seemed distant then
they seem distant now
from everything I remember
I hope they stayed with you
when the noose started to tighten
and you could say no more
and after wisdom
and the days of iron
the eyes started from your head
I know the words
must have been set down
partly for yourself
unjustly condemned after
a good life
I know the design
of the world is beyond
our comprehension
thank you
but grief is selfish and in
the present when
the stars do not seem to move
I was not listening
I know it is not
sensible to expect
fortune to grant her
gifts forever
I know

Let’s celebrate with kisses sweet.

 

Words float like water in a stream,
Reflected gently by sunbeams.
This stream flows swiftly to my heart
Through these words your love is caught.

The space inside my heart is clear,
Your love will find  a good home here.
Your words are treasures in my night,
And in the dark, they glow with light.

Oh,let me read your notes of bliss,
And seal them with a loving kiss.
I hope this stream will always go
Where living waters softly flow.

For love is kind, and love is true.
Connections form from me to you.
And love creates an open heart,
From which all other feelings start.

Yet love is free, and does not bind.
Love is glad,and not unkind.
Lf my love displeases you,
You must find a lover new.

I have life inside my heart
Which will sustain me if we part.
I shall wish you happiness
I know my grief will one day pass.

But for today,let’s laugh and play.
Let’s make love inside the hay.
It’s summer and we like the heat.
Let’s celebrate with kisses sweet.

Learning from our interactions with others

Tea pot
Tea pot

 

I have a friend who is still an active mathematician.I don’t whether he did it on purpose but he replied to  some  emails
That figures
I reckon so.
Then I realised these are words  originally relating to arithmetical calculations became part of ordinary speech in a metaphorical way.
Again, the phrase,
There is no accounting for taste
uses a word accounting still used by people who deal with money but also used in a metaphorical way.
So this proves we can learn not just from books or lectures but from everyday speech if we are on the lookout.

“Abyssal is a relatively rare word”

Merriam-Webster
WORD OF THE DAY
February 3, 2017
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abyssal Audio pronunciation
adjective | uh-BISS-ul
Definition
1 :
of or relating to the bottom waters of the ocean depths
2 :
impossible to comprehend : unfathomable
Scroll down for more about abyssal
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Did You Know?
Abyssal is a relatively rare word, though it’s derived from the more prevalent noun, abyss. In contrast, the adjective abysmal is more common than its corresponding noun abysm. All four terms descend from the Late Latin word abyssus, which is in turn derived from the Greek abyssos (“bottomless”). Abyss and abysm are synonymous (both can refer to the mythical bottomless pit in old accounts of the universe or can be used more broadly in reference to any immeasurably deep gulf), but the adjectives abyssal and abysmal are not used identically. Abyssal can mean “incomprehensible” (as in “showed abyssal ignorance”) but it’s most often found in contexts referring to the bottom of the sea. Abysmal shares the oceanographic sense with abyssal, but it more frequently means “immeasurably great” or “absolutely wretched.”

Nature, though deceptive, cannot lie.

The sun  took down the grey cloaks  from the  sky.
Those clouds deprived  us of her brilliant light
This light will please my spirit and my eye

The  branches of the  trees gleam from on high
And on the shrubs the leaves shine  in my sight
The sun dismissed the grey cloaks of the  sky.

Nature, though deceptive, cannot lie.
She ,like us, swings from  the dark to bright
Her light has pleased my spirit and my eye.

An artist paints, her picture poetry.
Through her work, the hidden world delights
For sun dismissed the grey clouds from the  sky.

A sculptor plays with  marble  till it  cries
The truth we need to feel and then to write
Creation   raises spirits and   our eyes.

 

Yet even in the darkness,poets write
Maybe  like the past, by candle light
The sun   has dried the  grey clouds in the  sky.
New light  caresses  spirits prone to sigh.

 

Beyond reading-other ways to connect with a poem

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https://writersblock.loft.org/2013/09/20/2732/beyond_reading_other_ways_to_connect_with_a_poem

 

“Write between the lines
: Copy down a poem line-by-line, leaving some blank space between each line. Read the first line of the poem only, then stop, then write your own line in response, using the space you left just below. Then read the second line of the poem, and write your own line in the space below. And so on until you’ve reached the end of the poem. You might find that your lines mirror or otherwise respond to the poem’s setting, tone, or syntax: all fine. There’s no wrong way to write between the lines.”