We’ve seen the tear gas for five weeks
We saw the smoke
If might could let the people speak
Although the issue’s intricate
They would not choke
If Solomon would bring his knife,
And cut the land so cold, so broke,
Would he end the cruel strife
The fire, the smoke?
Can one catch paranoia like a bug
Feeling insecure and ill at ease
Noone near to offer you a hug?
Being skinless makes it hard to love
The heart unwrapped can never take a tease
Can we catch paranoia from above?
The nerves exposed, the shoulders cannot shrug
Nothing seems like fun or a mere wheeze
Neighbours will not let you walk their dog
Is it a disease, is there a drug,
That makes your skin like rubber in the breeze,
Repelling paranoia, that old bug?
Sensitive to danger, the heart tugs
Signals fight or flight or final freeze
Noone near allowed to give that hug
Can one learn to trust when panic leers
See through the futile fantasies of fear
Can one kill paranoia like a bug?
Resolve to live with fear and make it good
In the NYT women are asking how to respond when men at work call them “sweetheart”
One person suggests calling them “darling” but be careful.I did that once and the man was really happy and thought I loved him.
Another time I was having lunch with some colleagues.Several left to g9 to q meeting.The man remaining then said
I want to have an affair with you.My wife said she doesn’t mind
I nearly fell off my chair.He was a very nice person and I just pointed out that I was married.
It seemed strange though to come out so bluntly.Did I somehow give the impression I was wanting lovers? There’s no point even thinking as there could be a million reasons.But that approach is a bit strange even if I were looking for someone.It can happen more easily on blogs but only once to me where I got a message saying,I know you love me!
Well, it was news to me.Then the blogsite closed down.I didn’t do it.The owners got fed up.
The sunset is pale
Coral with grey finger marks~
No bird sang today
The leaves wait like mouths
Now they are shutting their lips
They don’t get night feeds
All is calm and still
The moon is singing Mahler
Dead babies whisper.
Enfold all infants’ pathos
Dies with them daily
Forget not at night
Those for whom the sun is dead
They are stiff like dolls
The little cat lies on my garden chair
Yellow and distinctive is her stare
Off she leaps and finds her hiding hole
She drinks rain water from a plastic bowl
She’s dark like coal with no white patch of fur
I wish the cat would stay,I am prepared
But she is shy and does not ever dare
Here’s the sun umbrella and its pole
The sound of birds in shrubs will make her bold
The little cat
How well designed she is, for wear and tear
Whatever scientists say,I know God’s here.
Oh, on the desperation of a human soul
He will send out rays of marvellous gold
Yet to such visions we must not aspire
Just little cat
“Even as our understanding of confidence expanded, however, we found that our original suspicion was dead-on: there is a particular crisis for women—a vast confidence gap that separates the sexes. Compared with men, women don’t consider themselves as ready for promotions, they predict they’ll do worse on tests, and they generally underestimate their abilities. This disparity stems from factors ranging from upbringing to biology.
A growing body of evidence shows just how devastating this lack of confidence can be. Success, it turns out, correlates just as closely with confidence as it does with competence. No wonder that women, despite all our progress, are still woefully underrepresented at the highest levels. All of that is the bad news. The good news is that with work, confidence can be acquired. Which means that the confidence gap, in turn, can be closed.”