Month: June 2020
Radical hospitality
“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews

Going on
Today was the anniversary of my husband’s funeral.Someone had said she’s stay overnight.When we came home here she said
You don’t want me to stay,do you?
So I said,no
Then they went and I sat here alone,it was very hot.Everything seemed unreal like a Play.
I kept thinking it would revert to normal but there is no normal then
Every night my husband came, he clutched my hand and made me run
Run, run, we must find the car, he kept urging me.Unlike in real life I could run in the dream
Round every corner was another corner, then another
we never found the car park
That went on for a month.
After that we spent a week cleaning the cooker together in silence
With steel scourers.
The oven is a womb, the fire that keeps life going
It can be otherwise, of course.Bring death.
Then he told me he had bought me a new house in Ealing
Draw your own conclusions
His eyes were silent,still, and very black
The day his mother died he’d cut his arms
With bits of pointed glass like frosty nails
The blood had stained his shirt, yet made him calm
He did not like to make a scene or wail.
The day his mother died he sat alone
Wondering what to eat or who to call
Above him was hot sky, a blue, blue dome
Below the earth where very soon she’d fall
The day his mother died he hugged his cat
She alone gave comfort without blame
His eyes were silent,still and very black
What hope, what help, where is the nameless Name?
The day his mother died he went to sleep
To dream and wander in the deepness deep
Kaddisch
Mauric
Kol Nidre
My favourite
Mendelssohn
De profundis
I want to see right round the bends
Alfred my old cat
She said I drive her round the bend
I have no driving licence
He said I was intransitive
Is that an insult?
He said my abhorrence of fish was a pity
I feel pity for the dead fish
I have no idea why I am here
But I am here!
I realised my feelings were absurd
We all have got the urge to power, to kill
Better go out now and make your will
Jesus was not meek nor was he mild
God created tigers and the wild
Why should people fear to say they’re wrong?
Errors can arise or come in gangs
I’d like to go to Bournemouth but I can’t
I see the mad profusion so I’ll skype
I learned to play the cello I loved so
But other plans were made and I let go
The strings were made of gut and they were thick
I played with a long bow, or I could pluck
I did not wish to earn by using words
I realised my feelings were absurd
I could have written books and gone abroad
I could have worked at Bletchely breaking codes
I did not realise I was a girl
Despite the bearing of some golden curls
I liked boys’ games but I am not trans
I like making cakes and washing tins
I liked men to give warmth to my bed
Although my only true love is now dead
Am I banned from meeting any more?
They fear my mind and run out of the door.
That we may injure without knowing so
Like radioactive particles ,like seeds
Dropped in error,dropped in fields of woe
Misunderstandings grow like torturing weeds
When anyone approaches, make them bleed
Let them know they’re neighbours to a war
With radioactive elements imbued
We may need help for inner suicide
Will kill us or the helpers near and far
Misunderstandings like a bomb, can bind
We cannot see the other too has needs
That we may injure without knowing so
With radioactive sharps that make eyes bleed
From Moses in his basket in the reeds
To Dayan with his patch and his cigar
Misunderstandings like real bombs, will many wound
In the sky above we see how far
Our broken souls are from the evening star
Like radioactive metaphors ,like seeds
Errors bring forth agonies that breed
Sing
- https://youtu.be/n_56ep729TE
- “Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats.” — Voltaire
I have a docile phone
I have a glow smile phone for dating
I have a snow wild phone for going up the Pole
I have a no aisle phone when flying
My phone has slow smile
What’s up Nile phone,dad?
Not smart, but beguiling: the story of a loving lady
I’ve lost my phone again.Well, it is quite mobile you know
I’ve lost my mobility and found my senility [ with sense and sensiblility]
I don’t need no iphone.I don’t need no coke.Send me a letter,French is how i poke
Oh,dear what can the matter be, some loon threw an iphone at me
O little town of wall and phones, how we see thee fall down
We do not want to hear their their poignant calls
Everything is whirling round my mind,
The lack of government , the words unkind
That the poor are short of food and clothes
We deny it, everybody knows
Sudden gusts of wind mock these old trees
Does the lure of nature disappear
When the butterflies have gone away
Yet the stinging wasps are here to stay?
Once tortured now abandoned refugees
Can’t make phone calls, have no mental ease
We make our own defences into walls
We do not want to hear their their poignant calls
Oh,Lord God take the beam from out my eye
I want to know the worst before I die
S
I am going to the unoccupied territory
For my holiday, I am going to the unoccupied territory if there is one
I’d rather stay in bed like Pascal waiting for my vision.
Can’t you see when you get up?
It’s what I see, the kitchen floor, the washing up
Can’t you get help?
Only for writing
That seems odd
I’n in Luck down
I hit my bad hand on a shelf in the fridge
Get rid of it!
Which?
The shelf.
I’ll mull it over
Goodbye
It’s the eyes, the thoughts, the innocence we fear.
The fear of judgement makes life harsh with pain.
The eyes that spy, the words we spoke in vain.
When we age we have a wider view
We’re not so strange and not so very new.
The dream of being stuck at school once more.
Where teachers power extends right to that door
We’re imprisoned to maintain a safe society;
Creation from the young is jeopardy.
We protect ourselves from children’s open minds
It’s we who’re frightened and we make the bind.
It’s the eyes, the thoughts, the innocence we fear.
Their assessment of our very hearts endures.
And they are frightened by the Judge we haul
To destroy or mould the newness of their calls.
Till in a mirrored palace we display
The heads of those who wished to change our ways.
Children need protection from the strong
But we , too, need protection from their songs
Is that an answer or an exclamation?
Will I feel any pain after I undress?
Only shame and bitterness
I want to wear my clothes during surgery
Don’t worry we won’t look at your nude body~
Why not?
Patients must not text while they are unconcious in the theatre
Which theatre?
Please leave your wedding ring with the nurse until you are in recovery
From what?
Please insure your phone before you come for treatment
What will you do to it?
Anything on your mind?
God!
Is that an answer or an exclamation?
Will I feel better soon?
Once the bomb drops we’ll all feel nothing
You are pessimistic,
It may drop on the other side of the mountain
Let’s hope the mountain can take it
I can’t
More on morons

Can you be both a moron and an imbecile?
I can.Not sure about you
Tell me about Poincare, the famous mathematician
He was definitely an imbecile………..
He got his results in his day dreams
How I envy him.Two for one!
Odd how the labels are French.But they invented IQ
Alfred Binet and the Simon-Binet Intelligence Scale:
“Some recent philosophers seem to have given their moral approval to these deplorable verdicts that affirm that the intelligence of an individual is a fixed quantity, a quantity that cannot be augmented. We must protest and react against this brutal pessimism; we will try to demonstrate that it is founded on nothing.” – Alfred Binet, Les idées modernes sur les enfants, 1909
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Funny habits
No bikinis allowed on this beach
So do we bathe nude or what?
What.
You cannot be topless in this hotel
That is an error, is it grammatical?.We could be.But you would punish us
Please do not go out in pyjamas
OK I’ll take them off!
Please wear a dressing gown when you walk about at night
What strange habits you have here.Are you monks?
Breakfast is served from 8 to 10 am
Please may I leave the table?
I do,generally.
Do you have a hot dinner?
Yes, we have many curries
I mean hot chips etc
Go to Israel
Why?
They invented chips
I just can’t believe it.We had chips before Israel was declared
to be a state
Oh, potato chips
Are there others?
Silicon chips
Wood chips
Fish ‘n chips
Computer chips
Stop pulling my leg
I didn’t know it was yours
Why are you a moron?
I’m an imbecile actually
Congratulations.
For what?
Deceiving the professors and getting a Ph.D
I didn’t do it on purpose!
Try harder in future
Why?
Systems

The people who bind themselves to systems are those who are unable to encompass the whole truth and try to catch it by the tail; a system is like the tail of truth, but truth is like a lizard; it leaves its tail in your fingers and runs away knowing full well that it will grow a new one in a twinkling.” /Turgenev
I like Stephen King
https://www.usefuladdiction.com/post/15-motivational-quotes-by-stephen-edwin-king-on-success
“The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there… and still on your feet.” /Stephen Edwin King
A very good blog to look at by Lyncrain
Extract
I started Ursula K. Le Guin’s Conversations on Writing with David Naimon this morning with my coffee. Delightful read, it’s like we’re sitting down at a table discussing different thoughts on writing. I was particularly amused when I read, “Children know perfectly well that unicorns aren’t real” says Ursula K. Le Guin. “But they also know that books about unicorns, if they are good books, are true books.” My granddaughter, Olyvia (7 years old) would agree, she’s a huge unicorn fan. I remember her telling me that if they’re in books, they’re real.
Conversations on Writing is broken down into four sections, Introduction, Fiction, Poetry and Non-Fiction. So you can read whatever section you want or in whatever order you want.
I hope
Why is adultery a sin?
Because it’s wrong to grow up
Why worship false gods?
To annoy the real one
Why can’t the poor steal?
It’s too dangerous diam
Why would a woman want lots of diamonds?
The Gestapo might call.
Why must we worship God?
To stop us worshipping Brent Cross Shopping Centre
Why do Catholics go to Confession?
It’s free though not easy
Why is BoJo’s hair so long?
He wants to hide behind it
Can’t his fiance cut it?
She charges more than a barber!
I don’t believe you
Neither do I
When will our suffering end?
When we are dead,I hope
We call it love
I run my fingers tentatively down your cheek,
asking you a question
with my eyes.
looking at each other,
you touch me too.
This is my skin
my boundary.
Yours is thicker,
like rubber.
I run my fingers down your chin.
what is this little bone?
I like it.
I like your skin
I like your bones.
I like you.
you please me.
you are tasty.
I like your taste,
your skin,your eyelids.
I like your eye here,
and your other eye .
Nice one!
I like the hair on your head.
May I touch your hair?
do you like hair?
Hair makes me laugh.
I have a fondness for laughing.
I love to laugh.
I enjoy laughter
I love your laughter.
If not, smiling is good also.
Or a gleam in the eyes,
showing the inside smile,
the smiling heart.
I like your inside,
Outside
and possibly
your backside.
your upside and your downside.
your side sides.
I snuggle you all around with soft wool.
I knit you into my scarf.
I’ll have to wear you round my neck now!
How unusual
How flexible.
How charming.
How alarming
How creative
How interesting.
What an idea!
what a notion
but you are too big for me to knit
So I’ll just touch your hand
with my fingers.
and you touch my hand
with your fingers.
What good hands we have
with such fingers.
fingers are for touch.
fingers are keen to touch.
I like touch.
what would we do
without fingers?
I like your skin.
skin is good
We love skin
We love.
I want skin to be ours
and yours
is mine
and mine
is yours
where is the edge of the world?
skin has no end
it’s infinity
au naturel.
what order!
what design!
What wonder.
what awe.
where is the world’s skin?
tenderly we touch the world
as the world embraces us.
We call it love.
Love.
We call it love
Can peace ever come?
We call it anguish
It’s Saturday again.
Wonder if it’s real.
Waking up with no-one here.
Confused by ends of dream and memory.
Desires and fears;
Scanning the room for signs.
But of what?
I have no cat.
Put the kettle on.
Make a drink.
It is real
Sharpness bites the heart
We call it anguish
Like tigers fighting in a small space
Make heart larger
Breathe
Carry on
Please wash beforehand
I made this image from a photo using Artweaver
Please wash before playing cards
I didn’t know playing cards washed but I am happy to obey
Pleae be polite to other customers whether real or imaginary
I think only Godel can solve this one and he went mad
Please call a cab if you are drunk
Even if I am not going anywhere?
Don’t get overexcited about your new husband
I didn’t realise he was new.
To avoid being put in a mental hospital, do manual work every day
and always be polite even to politicians, hallucinations,mathemativians and anyone else hanging around
When you can sit down drinking tea all day and doing nothing
that is Nirvana
Sewing is good especially mending and replacing buttons
First, take off the buttons from your cardigan
Find a needle and some matching thread
I use easy thread needles as I am limited by visions
Once they go,I thread my needle and sew the button back where I took if from
Don’t do it too tight
But, not too loose either
If unhappy,repeat this over and over until bedtime
Knitting is good but wool is expensive
Try buying online but make sure which country you are in first
Get a friend to help you
No friends?
Try being polite and listening to others before you speak to them
Otherwise, go to Church and pray.
But miracles don’t happen every day
Are you too picky?
Are you too excited to realise most people have not heard of quantum cookery
As kingfishers catch fire by G M Hopkins
The only beauty
The shops look all the same to me.
plastic human models with no heads
are placed in the windows
showing us how we might look
if we bought the latest fashions.
People walk, by dropping paper and cans
some look at me,most don’t
I’m invisible now ,I’m a ghost.
I haunt my familiar spaces
the library green and the path by the pond
The phone shops tempt us with larg notices:
Only £39 per month for the best the latest,the new
maps and locations
faster access to email and photos
. Look here I am,another selfie.
The only beauty is a pigeon in the sun
and a black man with gentle,luminous eyes
smiling at me as he sweeps away the paper
tossed down by the blinded people
who jabber beside the coffee shop.
plastic human models with no heads
are placed in the windows
showing us how we might look
if we bought the latest fashions.
People walk, by dropping paper and cans
some look at me,most don’t
I’m invisible now ,I’m a ghost.
I haunt my familiar spaces
the library green and the path by the pond
The phone shops tempt us with larg notices:
Only £39 per month for the best the latest,the new
maps and locations
faster access to email and photos
. Look here I am,another selfie.
The only beauty is a pigeon in the sun
and a black man with gentle,luminous eyes
smiling at me as he sweeps away the paper
tossed down by the blinded people
who jabber beside the coffee shop.