The face that was familiar is no more Yet in my dreams ,he is alive again If ,by a chance, his life could be restored It would affect me like the hidden chord King David composed and played for love of God. Oh, one must die and one must here remain The face that was familiar is no more. Yet in my dreams ,he is alive again
Day: November 14, 2018
My face has gone blue
My doctor does surgery too
He cut off the lace from my shoe
I said, that’s my trainer
He said, you’re a failure
You can’t tie a knot without glue
But how can we sleep in our bed
When our shoes to our feet have been wed?
Our feet would be grey
Our nails would decay
It came from the top of his head.
I think that a buckle would do
As alternative tye for my shoe
Then we could remove ’em
And wash our denouement
Oh,dear,now my face has gone blue.
Share this:
Aleph won
This astounding sketch was done by Katherine.Hope to learn how to draw trees soon
Do my clothes need itoning?
No, they match your face!
Will I wear a hat?
I’ll wait and see.
I’ve not made a Will
You silly willy
I’ll leave you out
Don’t threaten me.
Why not?
I get mad.
Are we going out tonight?
Ask yourself first then if you agree ask me
I am married so this is just a fling
What does ” a fling “mean?
Fling Flong Flang
To a fling
Of a flng
In a fling
What, are you crazy?
How would I know?
Well,I know.
That is 2/6 as you get a discount
Why?
Stupidity
How cruel!
Tell God!
How?
By a prayer
With a prayer
In a prayer
On a prayer
Goodness me,
Hello, it’s God,Who are you?
You should say, how are you
You nitwit.I’m God.
You don’t sound like God
Seem like God
Talk like God
Look like God
Feel like God
I’ll send a Flood
How?
Amazon Prime
My days are numbered
Aleph null
Aleph one
I never knew Alef won
Who is Alef?
He’s a Hebrew letter
Alpha in Greek,Aleph ib Hebrew
Which was first?
Never mind.
No matter
I matter
We all matter
Share this:
Mindfulness
Extract from book named at the end
“I came to the conclusion then that “continual mindfulness” could certainly not mean that my little conscious self should be entirely responsible for marshalling and arranging all my thoughts, for it simply did not know enough. It must mean, not a sergeant-major-like drilling of thoughts, but a continual readiness to look and readiness to accept whatever came…. Whenever I did so manage to win its services I began to suspect that thought, which I had always before looked on as a cart-horse, to be driven, whipped and plodding between shafts, might be really a Pegasus, so suddenly did it alight beside me from places I had no knowledge of.”
― A Life of One’s Own
Share this:
Ways of perceiving
“Not only did I find that trying to describe my experience enhanced the quality of it, but also this effort to describe had made me more observant of the small movements of the mind. So now I began to discover that there were a multitude of ways of perceiving, ways that were controllable by what I can only describe as an internal gesture of the mind. It was as if one’s self-awareness had a central point of interest being, the very core of one’s I-ness. And this core of being could, I now discovered, be moved about at will; but to explain just how it is done to someone who has never felt it for himself is like trying to explain how to move one’s ears.”
― A Life of One’s Own
Share this:
Keats:A Romantic poet
https://www.bl.uk/romantics-and-victorians/articles/proved-upon-our-pulses-keats-in-context
Extract:
A ‘life of thoughts’
At the same time as he was producing these great poems, Keats was also writing letters to friends and loved ones that clarify the theoretical thinking that lay behind them. They cover an extraordinary amount of ground, and show an equally extraordinary amount of wisdom, but they converge on a few central convictions. One of these is the idea that large theoretical concerns will only be comprehensible to people if they are rehearsed in very physical language. ‘Axioms in philosophy’ he says, using an image that refers back to his medical days, ‘are not axioms unless they are proved upon our pulses’ (3 May, 1818). This is where the sensuality of his writing is so important. It is not merely a form of delighted and delightful engagement with things-in-themselves, but a way of thinking. His ‘life of sensation’ is also a ‘life of thoughts’.
It is a notion that every poet writing after Keats has had to negotiate, and that most have shared. From the very small base of his early readership, he has become one of the most influential poets, as well as one of the most beloved.
Share this:
Mary gets dressed for bed
Mary decided to go to bed early..She sat down on the green velvet chair in the corner and took off her outer woollen woven clothes which were pale pink and ready for the wash.As it was so cold she decided to leave her red damart thermal underwear on over which she donned a purple fleece nightgown and a mauve woollen bed jacket.She put some long green woollen bed socks on too and a tan sheepskin hat from East Norfolk.
By her bed were some sheepskin slippers. from Drapers of Glastonbury.
After cleaning her teeth with her gas powered toothbrush she climbed into her bed and began reading Ted Hughes’ letters in a fat volume which she had had for a few years but never finished as she only read them in bed to save carrying the heavy book about.
He certainly knew how to write letters she murmured to herself.
Suddenly her door opened with a thud and a large ,handsome old man came into her bedroom looking puzzed and amazed.
Good evening,baby, he said.
Good evening,she replied slightly angrily as she was busy. reading.Why she’d had enough of all that with her husband and her ex lover Bill Clinton
Why are you wearing all that heavy clothing,?he asked nosily.
What’s it got to do with you? she demanded sarcastically
Well,it’s going to be hard to make love to you,he told her chastely with his loving eyes.
What on earth do you mean,Mary cried mysteriously.He came a bit closer and looked down at her face.
I’m terribly sorry,he said.I must be sleepwalking,
What number are you?
78 ,she told him calmly.
Oh my, I am dyslexic.I should be at 87.
But how do you get in Mary asked him ,her face red with the warm clothes
I just open the lock with a credit card,he replied intellectually.
A policeman in Oxford showed me.It was the only useful thing I learned at the University
Well, you are here would you mind making me some fresh tea.I am sweating so much I am dehydrated.Julius went into the teal and cream colored kitchen where he found all he needed.
He got a tray and took the tea up to Mary just like her husband once did.
Here you are,dear.he said kindlily.
OMG,y ou’re Stan, she shouted.
Sorry to disappoint you, dear but I am Julius Tweezer from round the corner.
I didn’t know there was a corner,she said curiously.
I like your kitchen,he told her.My wife liked red but it was too bright for me so I left he .
I think that’s ridiculous,Mary cried.To get divorced over a red kitchen is really stupid.
Well,it’s less embarrassing in court than to say you are frigid,impotent a bully and mean as well,he said coyly.
Very cunning,Mary said,I didn’t know men were frigid and why were you so mean?
I am a hermaphrodite,actually ,he boasted.I don’t know why I am mean;it must be genetic like intelligence was once imagined to be.
Well drink your tea and don’t think of England,she whispered.
I am too old for all that,she lied gently
You look young to me,he faltered.It’s all in the mind.so they say.
Suddenly a policeman came in wearing a floral apron
Sorry,madam,he cried.This poor man has got lost and I have come to take him home
You can take me home,Mary said flirtatiously.I’m only 32 and full of beans
Madam ,control yourself.This is a Christian country. Which is odd as Jesus was not a Christian and never saw the Vatican and all that tat.
Well,Jesus would not mind,she bragged, because he understands women taken in adultery.
So you are married then,he asked sycofrantically
Well I have a wedding ring on but I’ve lost my husband,Mary yelped like a terrier at a foxhole.
They are a nuisance sometimes aren’t they , said the officer.
He’s probably hunting rabbits by the old greenwood with Ted Hughes.You go to sleep now.He began to sing,”Golden Wonders kiss your eyes” and Mary was lulled to sleep under her old duvet and a thick acrylic and mohair rug she had knitted herself.Let’s hope she doesn’t wet the bed because she’s just had cystitis and drunk 3 pints of water.
What a funny day, mewed Emile.But nobody heard him except the mice in the wainscotting.He put on his hat and went into his basket with a rosary to play with or is it pray with?
Good night
How my heart sings 