Day: November 5, 2018

The holy, the desire , the deep deep dark

The unconscious is  the home of image stark
The faces of our  love and of our hate
The holy, the important  and the dark

 

The cat that bit, the black dog with wild barks,
The bills ,the charge, the  passive, irritate
The unconscious is  the cave of image stark

 

The Northern moors the heather and the lark
Old letters torn up when they came  too late
The holy, the important , the deep dark

 

The marvelled fire, the glowing light, the spark
The holy place immune from every State
The unconscious ,oh  the home of image stark

Here  too dwell envy and   malicious hearts
Yet in that space we  must a soul create
The holy and its candles light the dark

Time has gone, there is no day or date
We are never early or too late
The unconscious lives,  the home of image stark
The holy, the  divided , glossy dark

Washing Day in Knittingham

cat-1_filtered

After the unusual November sunshine, Mary was happy  to discover her  underwear was dry. She took it into the sitting  room to  fold  up, ready to go into the drawer.
Although by nature she was very untidy, she did try to keep a bit of order in her drawers.
As she sat musing, with the pile of knickers  and bras nearby, the door bell rang.Quickly she pushed the heap  of lingerie under a large cushion and opened the door optimistically with a brave laugh
There stood the Vicar with a beaming  yet sultry smile, like a sun ray on Hellvellyn in winter
Do come in.I’ll make some fresh Ceylon tea, she murmured politely
She carried in a tray of tea and cake and sat on the sofa, after placing the tray on a small table nearby.
Why are you here, Father? she said  anxiously as she sucked her thumb
That was what God said to Elijah on the mountain, he anwered shyly
Well,I am not God but we all wonder now and then why we are here and think we should be somewhere else , like in bed with Leonard Cohen.
That never worries me, said the Vicar.I can’t marry a Jew, Leonarda Cohen or whoever.
So if Jesus was here you would not let him marry your daughter?
Even though  he was  the Son of the Most High?
Definitely not.He wasn’t a Christian.And imagine what it would be like when he was never at home  helping with the chores, but was fishing in the Sea of Galilee all day.And feeding hungry people.Not to mention getting killed…..
But he must have been very loving, Mary muttered nervously
God loves those who love themselves, cried the Vicar.
Er, that’s a bit narcissistic,Mary told him.I’ve never heard anyone say it before.
Well we   ought to love ourselves  or why should anyone else love us?
For our beauty, our mind, our  kindness, our humour, our cooking or our money.
Yet some a people are sadists and some are masochists.
Well, that is  unfortunate but, if they are willing, it seems acceptable  to me.I won’t criticise them if they enjoy it
Suddenly Annie,Mary’s neighbour,ran into the room  in her dark purple velvet trenchcoat and  shiny green vinyl  boots which matched her eye shadow and contrasted well with her terracotta lipstick and matching earrings.
Hi, she shouted.I’m here.Well, they all knew that.
Where is that  lipstick from,Mary quizzed her pensively
It’s by Lambscombe of Wigan and  Ilkley. Annie revealed furtively
I didn’t know they made  lipstick,Mary answered.It’s an unusual colour
Is it made from old bricks?
I don’t know, Annie cried petulantly.She   started to snivel and  felt under the cushion in case Mary had left a hanky or tissue there.
Her  hand reappeared clutching a pair of  bright blue  lace knickers
It was hard to decide who looked more embarrassed ,Mary or  the Vicar
What’s going on in here, Annie demanded
I’ve   never seen them before, the Vicar  told her manfully
Surely your wife must wear them, Annie said knowingly
My wife wears underpants.
Well, it takes all sorts,Mary mused.Is  your wife a man ?
I don’t know.We live a  life of  utter chastity.We have therefore had no children.We could have adopted I guess.
What a waste,Annie whispered.
You are a very charming and delightful person.~
I can’t believe  you are innocent.You persuaded Mary to take off her knickers so you could play Mummies and  Daddies but I came in at the wrong moment.
Mary fainted silently onto the rug

Emile mewed loudly and rang 999 on his Nokia1

In ran Dave, the fluid gendered,  transsexual and well dressed paramedic.
What’s wrong ?Why  has Mary fainted and why are there knickers on the floor? Is this an orgy? Why have you called me?
The Vicar went bright red with embarrassment and shock.
No, it seems Mary keeps a pair of knickers near her in case she runs  out of tissues.
Dave made some  Ceylon tea in the bijou violet and emerald green kitchen and used Mary’s art deco  mugs to serve it along with some chocolate  biscuits he found under the sink
Mary  rose  up  from the carpet and asked where she was.
Still here,in the EU….until Scotland goes independent and Ireland gets more Troubles and how about Wales getting big idea?
Oh, for goodness sake, shut up.I am sick of Brexit cried Emile.
Where is my tea? Where are my sardines in olive oil?Where is my pudding?
And so ask  all of us.photo0189

Dressing like a woman

woman holding her skirt standing beside wicker armchair
Photo by Ambar Simpang on Pexels.com

Even  being  mathematician did not make me think I had to wear trousers like most mathematicians did as they were men
I have no objection to trousers but I like pretty things and I love colour.Yet  a woman friend demanded recently to know why I was wearing a skirt.I should have said that my husband forced me to do!
Now another friend went shopping for a nightdress in  a her local  town.Some of the shop assistants didn’t know what she meant and asked of she meant an evening dress.She likes the beautiful Victorian style.But where are they?
Marks and Spencers still  have a few but they are often man made fibres.
Is it a bad sign when women think they have to dress like men to be equal? I don’t find trousers warm unless they are tweed.And tweed is hard to wash.Probably you can’t wash them.
Since the moth invasion I’ve been looking for a woollen skirt and succeeded in getting one in a kind of heathery mix which reminds me of the heather on the moors in the North.I expect it might look old fashioned but why worry about that? If we look at history a lot of people  in politics were superior to our present politicians.So don;t tell me I have to wear trousers.Let me have a choice.Thank you.
Similarly why must black women straighten their hair for success?

photo of woman standing
Photo by Godisable Jacob on Pexels.com

Free Speech?

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/nov/02/ma-jian-interview-exiled-chinese-writer-free-speech-dissidents-novel

The beginning

Novelist Ma Jian for Review. Photo by Linda Nylind. 25/10/2018.
” ‘Everyone thought economic expansion meant China would become increa­singly like the west, but that has been a catastrophic miscalculation’ … the novelist Ma Jian. Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian

In an era of growing political impunity, when dissidents are murdered on foreign soil and even the head of Interpol is not immune from being “disappeared”, Ma Jian seems almost recklessly brave. Could there be a more provocative title than that given by the exiled novelist to his latest satirical onslaught on the country of his birth? For, with China Dream, he co-opts the rhetoric of the Chinese leader Xi Jinping to tell the story of a politician who is driven mad by memories of his own corruption.

Xi first used the phrase shortly after becoming general secretary of the Communist party in 2012, and Ma has responded “in a rush of rage” with a short, ferocious novel about the way turbo-capitalism and authoritarianism have combined to inform a Chinese dream that excludes all but a chosen few. “I wanted to give myself the challenge of encapsulating everything in as few words as possible,” he says, wryly adding that it will be interesting to see how the Chinese authorities react to the novel, given that they’ve outlawed so many “key words” online – “even the name Winnie-the-Pooh is banned because people joked that Xi Jinping resembled him”.

A momentary silence falls as we consider the surreal possibility of the “paramount leader” being forced to ban his own slogan. But the reality, Ma acknowledges, is that censorship is now so all-encompassing that the novel will very probably not be allowed to exist in Chinese, even in Hong Kong, which has historically provided a toehold for work by dissident authors banned on the mainland.”