Month: June 2023

Harmonious dirtiness

When Mary woke up she could see the sun shining through the curtains. How lucky, it was going to be another bright day. She lay in bed trying to decide what to do. then she remembered that she could not go out because she was waiting for the pharmacy to deliver her medication.
Owing to the cutbacks in the NHS the pharmacy was struggling to cope with all the prescriptions received especially from the older folk of Knittingham who have been put onto statins,calcium channel blockers, beta blockers, tranquilizers, antidepressants mini aspirin, warfarin and even anti-psychotic drugs because they did not believe Theresa May was a was a real living person so were diagnosed with schizophrenia.
f Ronald Laing was here now he would be rolling in his grave because he said schizophrenia was caused by people being put into an intolerable situation within the family of origin or more likely within Society if we can still iue the word
Is Boris Johnson real? Michael Gove… he’s hardly looks human;you see if you do not agree with what the majority of people think then you are defined as mad.
This means that all the Jews in Germany and Austria and other countries in Eastern Europe were crazy in 1938 because they did not believe that Adolf Hitler was a good leader for Germany and indeed was a dangerous and evil human

And when they were taken to Concentration Camps and murdered or shot in their thousands by the advancing German army on its way to “defeat” the Soviet Union in 1941……….. were they out of their minds?
Who do you think was crazy then?
Who is crazy now?

Well, Mary thought this is not going to get me very far I better make myself a big mug full of hot tea so I can take my antibiotics.

I really wonder now if original sin is real or whether it is a society that is evil. Western societies have nuclear bombs, military forces and many such things. That must tell us something.

Mary was looking in her wardrobe trying to find something to wear. She picked out a skirt of many colours rather like Joseph’s coat would have been in the Bible. That didn’t do Joseph much good do it?. With that, she wore a blue acrylic jumper whose neck was too low so underneath she had to wear a purple camisole

My goodness, she thought it takes me half the morning just getting dressed; however did we manage to go to work years back?

Of course, when Mary was working she wore just jeans and a sweater.. She even wore underwear but nobody could see it except on one occasion when the zip on her trousers broke in the middle of a lecture.However, the students were very kind and none of them seemed to be looking at it. that was because her lectures were so fascinating that none of the students was looking at her as a woman despite the fact they could have seen her blue silk knickers poking out through the broken zip.

After that Mary realised that it was better to wear a very long sweater when out of the house. How kind her students had been

Downstairs she noticed that although she had vacuumed the carpet in the hall the day before it was still covered in little bits of paper and other tiny objects. I suppose you can’t have it clean all the time she murmured to her cat Emile
It’s not natural to be clean. Are forests clean, are woods clean, is the sea clean? I’d better think about the latter one she thought. after reading the news about the environmentshe knew there were different kinds of cleanliness

There was a kind of a harmonious dirtiness which fostered the growth of plants and seeds and then there was the inharmonious dirtiness of grass verges being covered in crisp packets and empty bottles of Coke and the inharmonious depths of the sea where plastic bags were waiting to kill the whales or the dolphins Yes it is rather difficult to define she decided.

In the kitchen, her cordless vacuum cleaner was waiting to be charged. Had it committed a crime. Of course not, it was waiting to be charged with electricity.

Through the glass door, she saw her friend Annie approaching slowly as she was wearing very high heeled shoes

Good grief Mary cried. I thought all the top people were wearing white trainers this year with designer clothes

Well, I am not, said Annie. I bought these shoes because I have got an invitation to have dinner with that psychotherapist who lives across the road

You haven’t mentioned him for a long time, smiled Mary but in any case, it’s not the time for dinner yet

No it’s not till tomorrow actually but I thought I would try these shoes out and see what I can get used to wearing them so it won’t look as if I’m making an effort to look especially good for him.

The shoes were shiny red patent leather with 5-inch heels.

What makes you think that he will like them, asked Mary tentatively

All men like these sort of shoes and Annie told her.

You can’t prove that. I don’t suppose that the native peoples of North America would have liked women to wear shoes like that

They probably did not even wear shoes at all : they had moccasins with soles, made from buffalos hides…

Well it’s different nowadays

Modern life has made men’s sexual desire disappear so we need to do things to bring it back again

Why, even teenagers have given up sex now!

I don’t think that psychotherapist is a teenager whispered Mary with a smile on her face.

You may be right

When he was growing up women would have been wearing stiletto heels. I had some myself until they got stuck in a groove in the pavement and I had to leave them behind.

That’s why I did mathematics at University. I wanted something more.

That’s ridiculous,replied Annie. I wore stiletto heels and have been married five times and I never wanted to go to university to read anything at all. Especially not physics, mathematics or engineering or difficult subjects like that.
I think it will be a big mistake for women to believe they can get married after they have read mathematics for 6 years at university.
Well I got married said Mary bluntly

You must be the exception to the rule as you are so stunningly lovely and not dominating at all.

Some men like a dominating woman, Mary kindly informed her.

Well, I’ve never met a man like that so far. her friend responded

Maybe you will

I wonder what that psychotherapist likes. Do you not think he will be married already

I don’t mind. I can be his mistress.

But wearing red patent leather shoes makes it all too obvious to the neighbours ; they will think that you are a tart

What, at my age?

There’s no tart like an old tart

That doesn’t mean anything said Annie nervously.

Not logically but it means something even if it’s only humorous. What kind of dress are you going to wear with this?

I got a dress from Dash last year it’s what they call a wrap dress it’s blue and quite demure but I would like you to see me in it to make sure it is not too tight. I hate a dress that is too tight on a woman

But not on a man, I suppose, Mary replied whimsically

I don’t mind what men wear. If they want to wear a wrap dress let them wear it especially in the summertime as these cotton dresses are very comfy in hot weather

But that’s not why you’re wearing one is it? You are wearing it because you think it will make you look sexually attractive

Well, it might make a man look sexually attractive too.

I suppose we don’t really know exactly what makes people look sexually attractive. But why don’t you want to be friends with this psychotherapist first and get to know him and to understand where he is coming from before you decide to wear provocative clothing. if he’s a Freudian he might think you’ve got hysteria

Oh no no, psychotherapists can’t decide something like that from one meeting

We should not rush to judgment.A woman might be wearing a wrap dress that clings to her curvaceous body because all her other clothes are in the washing machine

It would have to be a very big washing machine to put your clothes into it all at once

Don’t be snide it doesn’t suit your nature, Mary!.

Perhaps my nature will change now that I am a widow. perhaps I will say nasty things to people and steal you fruit from their Orchards

Will you start doing armed robbery asked her friend because if you do I would like to come with you

Do you really mean that, Mary asked

Yes of course I do. although I have no guns and I have no knives except the ones in the kitchen

Well they can be deadly. Marital violence has occurred where a long-suffering wife has killed the cruel husband with the carving knife when she was trying to cook the Sunday dinner and he was asking her to cut his toe nails

That’s true but I am thinking of robbing banks and they will not be cooking a Sunday dinner in there will they?

No ,they’re probably going to McDonald’s for their dinner

That’s alright then

I was just thinking of pretending to have a gun and staring at them brazenly

Give me your money I want £50,000

it’s no use, Mary. you look too kind and gentle to be convincing

In that case, I will have to start practicing looking nasty and aggressive

Please don’t do it to me Annie asked. it might bring out the demon in me

I didn’t know you had got a demon inside you said, Mary. has it got a name?

Not so far but I will think of one soon because I am going to buy it its own mobile phone

Why would a demon want a mobile phone? asked Mary

Don’t be so logical. not everything has a reason. I expect they like to look modern like you and I do

Well don’t spend a lot of money on it You can get a Nokia 1 unlocked for £79.99 on Amazon and then you have to buy a SIM card

I would have thought a SIN card will be most suitable for demons,.I shall go and put my new dress on and return here in a few minutes so that you can tell me what you think

Why Annie thinks that Mary is a good judge of clothing is a mystery to all of us as her main interest is in mending gadgets and studying philosophy while listening to Leonard Cohen singing The Future

And it is to all

Our eyes will melt and souls combine.

Down daisied fields, sweet grasses grow
Down these green fields, I know, I know.
In unploughed, fields where wild flowers blow
We’ll meet again, I Iove you so.

It was in the first soft summer light
I saw you standing, face so bright.
I saw you by the drystone wall.
I never doubted you at all.

When Meadows bright all bloom again
I know we’ll see you coming then.
in sunny fields where wildflowers hide
I know my love is by my side.

Oh,come, dear heart, do not delay.
We are not long till in the clay.
I’ll stand upon the beacon here
And never rest, till you are near.

When flowering buds all open wide
When bees to poppies swiftly glide.
When your dear heart is pressed to mine
Our eyes will melt and souls combine.

Oh, where are you, my dearest one
All too soon our lives are gone
I gaze across the fields and hills.
As sunset-sky with flames is filled.

When buttercups and celandine
Beckon to me in my dreams.
When apple blossom fills the tree
I believe, with love I’ll see.

The buttercups are burning in the fields

The buttercups are burning in the fields
The sun is hanging low as if to see
The Ash fall to the earth, the level sealed

 

The grass turns brown ,the barley ripe will kneel.
The hares are  leaping,wait, I watch them  flee.
The buttercups are burning in the fields

 

The Honeysuckle  curves like a red  wheel
Hanging  flowers still humming with brown bees
The ashes to the earth   dark riches yield

 

This fiery  land will flaunt its bright appeal
As from the  trees hang ghosts  of still born leaves
The buttercups are burning in the fields

 

The spiders wait, the rabbits ,raunchy,  reel.
What is this Earth  our eyes, all new, perceive
Where ashes to the earth   dark riches yield?

 

Who are we such dark gold to receive
When humans  trick each other and deceive?
The buttercups are burning in the fields
Their ashes  shall redeem as  richness yields

Only the daisies know

The trees made a wavering line
across the edge of the field
and I saw you standing beneath the oak
holding yourself upright just about.
I asked you why you had come
and you said it was only the yellow of the buttercups
that you dreamed of all winter
that had given you strength to walk so far.
the trees gazed down benignly
there was a river at the bottom of the dip
and we used to play there once
when we were children.I don’t know
why we don’t remember the important
feelings and places.Only the daisies know
that we grow where we can.Time shot past
like a flash of lightning,
Will I see you again?
Blue is your colour.I know this.
Grass is softer than stone pavements
And our hearts were not made to last forever,

No sound, no touch, no smell, no sight, no seeing.

In fields of lushest buttercups we ‘d lie
We’d watch the clouds as gently they blew by.
Love was born we thought would never die.
But you are gone, and so I sadly sigh

That love itself remains without your form
Yet tears of loss enfold me like a storm.
I knew you’d never hurt or do me harm.
I felt your smile’s embrace, so wide, so warm.

How is the world,now emptied of your being?
No sound, no touch, no smell, no sight, no seeing.
How is the world when you have gone ahead
Yet I must linger in this empty bed?

Yet those who’ved loved are grateful for that gift
Our sorrow is that life itself’s too swift

The buttercups

The fields that once held buttercups are gone

Giant furrows pattern that long land

Made by huge machines whose time has come

Precise as old account books , now forlorn.

As moving as are waves on desert sand

The fields that once held buttercups have gone

Nothing human-sized remains untorn

Nowhere for dear lovers hand in hand

Killed by huge machines whose time has come

But young folk do not court, they hurry on

Annihilating what we elders understand

The fields that once held buttercups have gone

All too rapidly our world’s undone

To the deserts of the heart we’re sent

Dragged by by huge machines whose time has come

Can no passion change the way nor lend

Creative means to pacify and mend?

The fields that once held buttercups have gone

Ground by huge machines,death times have come

1

https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-3034358392230435&output=html&h=280&slotname=3934225189&adk=2444360850&adf=1403198732&pi=t.ma~as.3934225189&w=400&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1667330323&rafmt=1&format=400×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.poetrysoup.com%2Fpoem%2Fthe_buttercups_have_gone_1056602&fwr=0&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&adsid=ChEI8IeDmwYQ253o_vj24ZrOARI9AKiMfcxDt2jWBLWbHtSGCG8AEZrByzCeEa9wdC4mHRR1EGFn390q0N5L3-9HB5jkLHmr61L7a-gRzdnOkQ&uach=WyJBbmRyb2lkIiwiMTEuMC4wIiwiIiwiTm9raWEgVDIwIiwiMTA3LjAuNTMwNC45MSIsW10sZmFsc2UsbnVsbCwiIixbWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA3LjAuNTMwNC45MSJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDcuMC41MzA0LjkxIl0sWyJOb3Q9QT9CcmFuZCIsIjI0LjAuMC4wIl1dLGZhbHNlXQ..&dt=1667330323205&bpp=14&bdt=505&idt=15&shv=r20221027&mjsv=m202210260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D69e373325d939028-22d3d1347ed4007c%3AT%3D1659699983%3ART%3D1659699983%3AS%3DALNI_MYY2hOtwnz4qsxJXdflfF0d0OtMpQ&gpic=UID%3D00000b15efde50d4%3AT%3D1666600646%3ART%3D1667330152%3AS%3DALNI_MZIV6dNh–GkKnb_rkKE4kff9GRxw&prev_fmts=0x0%2C686x100&nras=1&correlator=648525106080&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=22012817.1659699979&ga_sid=1667330323&ga_hid=2084992614&ga_fc=1&u_tz=0&u_his=1&u_h=1143&u_w=686&u_ah=1143&u_aw=686&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.75&dmc=4&adx=197&ady=1086&biw=686&bih=975&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C44761792%2C42531706%2C31070606%2C44775016&oid=2&pvsid=1646951229412859&tmod=1640898263&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.poetrysoup.com%2Fmember_area%2Fmy_poems.aspx%3Fdeleted%3Dtrue&eae=0&fc=1920&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C686%2C0%2C686%2C975%2C686%2C975&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7CeEbr%7C&abl=CS&pfx=0&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=az5FjsQET9&p=https%3A//www.poetrysoup.com&dtd=34

Why Elder Abuse Happens

https://www.edmontonpolice.ca/CommunityPolicing/FamilyProtection/ElderAbuse/WhyElderAbuseHappens#:~:text=Whether%20intentional%20or%20not%2C%20abuse,that%20can%20accompany%20old%20age.

O

Abusive style of interaction

In some families, the members have a way of relating to each other that is generally hostile and non-nurturing. The adult children may have been abused by their parents, and having learned to interact in such a manner, carry it on into the next generation. Or there may be some unresolved family conflicts which foster abuse. The family may have a history of wife abuse which carries on into old age.

My sweet fate

The roses by your gate
Revealed my sweet fate:
That I would love you in summertime,
That my poetry would always rhyme,
That a dream of petals falling from above
Would drench us both with sunshine’s golden love;
That we would fall into deep grassy meadows
Full of daisies,lie on our backs.Swallows
Darting across the sky would see
Our shapes intertwined with bright buttercups.
Who knows when love will erupt
And carry us on its flowing waters
To places unreachable in summer saunters?
Into the eye of love itself

THE MEMORY LASTS

midsummer days evoke the trancelike past
where children played in joyous, daisied fields
with buttercups so bright the memory lasts
a freedom that our conscious growth will steal.

those stones and leaves and many coloured flowers
were gathered into images that glow
yet later we forget those treasured hours
when for a while we lived in life’s deep flow

we did not look and see,but felt at one
we lived as did the birds high in the trees
now we write , experiencing has gone
we cannot live like flowers filled with bright bees

to lose ourselves in nature is a joy
which to our adult selves we must restore

The buttercups

The fields that once held buttercups are gone

Giant furrows pattern that long land

Made by huge machines whose time has come

Precise as old account books , now forlorn.

As moving as are waves on desert sand

The fields that once held buttercups have gone

Nothing human-sized remains untorn

Nowhere for dear lovers hand in hand

Killed by huge machines whose time has come

But young folk do not court, they hurry on

Annihilating what we elders understand

The fields that once held buttercups have gone

All too rapidly our world’s undone

To the deserts of the heart we’re sent

Dragged by by huge machines whose time has come

Can no passion change the way nor lend

Creative means to pacify and mend?

The fields that once held buttercups have gone

Ground by huge machines,death times have come

1

https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-3034358392230435&output=html&h=280&slotname=3934225189&adk=2444360850&adf=1403198732&pi=t.ma~as.3934225189&w=400&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1667330323&rafmt=1&format=400×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.poetrysoup.com%2Fpoem%2Fthe_buttercups_have_gone_1056602&fwr=0&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&adsid=ChEI8IeDmwYQ253o_vj24ZrOARI9AKiMfcxDt2jWBLWbHtSGCG8AEZrByzCeEa9wdC4mHRR1EGFn390q0N5L3-9HB5jkLHmr61L7a-gRzdnOkQ&uach=WyJBbmRyb2lkIiwiMTEuMC4wIiwiIiwiTm9raWEgVDIwIiwiMTA3LjAuNTMwNC45MSIsW10sZmFsc2UsbnVsbCwiIixbWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA3LjAuNTMwNC45MSJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDcuMC41MzA0LjkxIl0sWyJOb3Q9QT9CcmFuZCIsIjI0LjAuMC4wIl1dLGZhbHNlXQ..&dt=1667330323205&bpp=14&bdt=505&idt=15&shv=r20221027&mjsv=m202210260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D69e373325d939028-22d3d1347ed4007c%3AT%3D1659699983%3ART%3D1659699983%3AS%3DALNI_MYY2hOtwnz4qsxJXdflfF0d0OtMpQ&gpic=UID%3D00000b15efde50d4%3AT%3D1666600646%3ART%3D1667330152%3AS%3DALNI_MZIV6dNh–GkKnb_rkKE4kff9GRxw&prev_fmts=0x0%2C686x100&nras=1&correlator=648525106080&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=22012817.1659699979&ga_sid=1667330323&ga_hid=2084992614&ga_fc=1&u_tz=0&u_his=1&u_h=1143&u_w=686&u_ah=1143&u_aw=686&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.75&dmc=4&adx=197&ady=1086&biw=686&bih=975&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C44761792%2C42531706%2C31070606%2C44775016&oid=2&pvsid=1646951229412859&tmod=1640898263&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.poetrysoup.com%2Fmember_area%2Fmy_poems.aspx%3Fdeleted%3Dtrue&eae=0&fc=1920&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C686%2C0%2C686%2C975%2C686%2C975&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7CeEbr%7C&abl=CS&pfx=0&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=az5FjsQET9&p=https%3A//www.poetrysoup.com&dtd=34

Annihilating all that’s made

Remember how our breathing slows right down
When we see a small bird close at hand
We want the happy moment to expand
To feel the greenness, let ourselves be drowned

Our breathing comes much faster in the town
Our hearts will beat as fast as Previn’s hands
We lose our mind and body, their demands
We may walk in traffic like dead clowns

See the human faces as they frown
They may update their phone,a thousand pounds!
They may park and ride the underground
To Mayfair with a credit card and crown

We need to create new memories that last
In Dedham Vale with wild geese flying past

We need others’ touch

As crops need rain,so I need loving touch

As flowers need sun, I cannot have too much

l long to be inside your arms tonigh6

To feel your breathing when there is no light.w

As birds need wings,so we need company

As birds need nests so we need privacy

Before we try to think we need to see.

Before we act we we must have learnt to be.

Do not close your heart and soul today.

If you’re alone then call on God and pray

Thinking is bad

Thinking is bad for the Brain

I’ll never do it again.

I’ll feel my way through life

I’ll be a witch, not a wife

No offence meant to most men

Talking too much is a bore.

Don’t make me stand at the door

You should have told me before

Words are like arrows

That shoot at the matador

Yet children still play on the shore

Mary classifies her clothes

P1000324

Mary woke up feeling gloomy and tired.She drank her tea which Stan used to bring her.It’s a real nuisance for a woman having to make her own tea in the morning
I am fed up,she told Emile.I miss my bicycle but it’s too dangerous now.And walking hurts.
Sitting by her bed she viewed all the clothes she had recently washed and dried which were manifold.What to do with them..Well,Mary thought,with our ideas we have to categorise them ans so I will apply the same principle here.
She divided her clothes into groups.Then into subgroups.Why, it’s a science she thought.Then she folded her underwear neatly just the way it came in the packs from M and S the famous Jewish British and EU department store.
She put all the odd socks into a clear polythene bad and put the remaining ones into a shelf in her white wooden wardrobe.She admired her teal coloured tights which Stan had loved and put them with the black ones she wore most often in winter
Suddenly she heard a dog bark.What’s that? she shouted in alarm
Emile giggled.
I did it.he said,you were not listening to me.So I barked.
I am sure God will not like that.What did you want.
It’s time for coffee,he announced.
Alright,Mary said.I’ll leave these polo necks till later.They want downstairs into the teal and cream coloured kitchen/breakfast room and Mary filled the kettle and took her Nokia off the charger.

P1000321

It seems to run down too fast,she thought.Even when I never used it.I only got it for emergencies and £5 a month from BT seems a good offer.But like many of her gadgets she really bought them to see how they worked;as she had a good sense of direction she did not really use the maps.
She picked up the post.There was the dreaded bank statement and Credit Card Bill. from M and S
Hello,Barclays here.
Hello,I have not had a statement from you lately.
You never use the card.
That’s true,said Mary,I forget to buy anything.I forget I am a woman
In her purse she found a cheque for £60 from the Inland Revenue.
Look Emile.I’ll buy you a new basket.And a some cat toys.
Thanks purred Emile.You are so sweet,mother.
I’m not your mother,Mary informed him wildly
Well you are like a mother,kind and gentle… most of the time.
You little flattery battery,she giggled .
Looking at the bank statement she was relieved not to be over-drawn.Stan had expensive tastes and she always bought him too many clothes,the best food and other delightful things.He was not greedy,she enjoyed spoiling him and so did he!
Well,two horrible jobs done she thought and her mood rose as she realised things were better than she had hoped.
Even finding the cheque was out of date did not worry her.She phoned the Tax Office who said they’d send another one.
We all know how nice it is to get a little money we didn’t expect.
She went upstairs and decided to change her outfit.She took off her comfy old jeans and put on a black needlecord dress with blue and green flowers all over with a pair of smart black shoes.
Why are you all dressed up,asked Emile.
To give pleasure to the human race,she murmured as she put on her red wool winter coat.
I am going out to take some photos she said.The mgnolias are out and the bluebells.
Which camera shall I take,she pondered..
I’ll take this Nikon one,she decided; Because I like the name.
Is that a good way to choose a camera,asked Emile.
Well, what do you suggest?
Well many are called cameras but few are chosen ,the naughty cat replied.
I know I have several she said.People give me their old ones and as I am ignorant they all seem ok to me.They are my toys..
And how about that new wok and the ceramic milk pan? I’ve been taking notes,b wittered on
Are you going to be a detective,Mary laughed.
Can’t a woman buy a new pan?I keep burning the non stick ones so I decided to try ceramic.
I hope you don’t stir fry my cat food,Emile chortled.
No,I have not yet got a wok cookery guide.
But you have got an electric egg boiler,which surprised me, he miaowed.
It’s because it switches itself off,she told him.I get engrossed in my study of enjambment and forget the time.
Thinking is bad for you,Emile told her.
And so say all of us.
Thinking is bad for the brain
I’ll never do it again.
I’ll be a girl again
Ignore all handsome men.
I’ll got out and play in the rain

From despair

F
When marriage was a sacrament and life was lived as prayer
We lived inside a structure; we knew anatomy
The living hands of God then came to hold us from despair

Each event had its known ways when ritual was pure.
Birth was lucky, death expected, Royal poverty.
Marriage was a sacrament and life was lived as prayer

Meaning leaked like ink runs down the page that is no cure
For those who cannot read the word must live in gravity
Yet feel the living hands of God to hold them from despair

When angels dwell in gold serene and stars look far and bare
There may be cruel reckonings as boats cross the dark sea
Yet marriage was a sacrament and life was lived as prayer

But now it is the government who hear no poor man’s plea
Thus hell is made by laziness, ignited is the Tree
If marriage were a sacrament and life a piercing prayer
The living hands of God would come to hold us from despair

Was Jesus too sensitive?

If your friend is hurt especially by a doctor and nurse someone in authority, the parish priest (as if)

Do not tell them that they are too sensitive.

No doubt the Jews have been told that they are too sensitive is they look sad about the Holocaust.

When Jesus his father to take away his suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane did God say to him

My son, you are too sensitive.

Maybe some others are more sensitive than others but it’s a valuable human qualiy without which many babies would have died.

What not to say to the matron

Hello,Mate

Why are you so ugly ?

Why dont you get a life?

I never want to see you again in this world and I hope you can go to hell.

I’ve never met a really evil person before. Were you born like this?

So you have had plenty of practise. Is it moral?

When I see you I wish that God could see you too.You are a monster 8n a very meaningful sense.

You seem to look good on the surface put you can’t maintain it for long. Why don’t you just look mediocre so and be done with it?

Nobody is born with a face like that it’s something that they achieve through years of bullying

You look even worse when you smile. I suppose it’s because it’s artificial like the rest of your personality. Do not be yourself

Good morning tea bag

What do you say to a new teapot?
We’re all going to be in hot water soon

What do you say when you are thirsty?
Show me a photo of Warren Beatty.He makes my mouth water

Why don’t we drink sea water?
Fish pee into it.Whales drown in it

What do you say to a coffee mug?
Won’t you at least try this tea?

What do you say to a rabbit?
Have you no warren of your own to go to?

What do you feel for when you get a text message at 3 am
My husband

What kind of flour do you use?
It depends on how strong the bombs need to be

Why do you like hand writing?
We can’t afford writing paper

Which pens are the best?
The ones with ink inside.

O

Is it hard to write a poem?
No, it’s only 5 letters.Maybe A should be capital?

Are you autistic?
Is it so black and white?

Why do you like maths?
It stops me going mad

Did you work on differential equations
No they were too dirty for women to sit on

How did you find the University?
We had maps then.. much cheaper than phones

I mean how did you feel?
With maths you don’t need to feel

So what does make you feel?
Love, glue and hot water

What advice would you give to a person now?
Never give advice.

What do you think of the Corona virus?
It makes no difference what I think.It’s what we do that matt

Ocean Vuong: ‘I don’t believe a writer should just keep writing as long as they’re alive’

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/jun/03/ocean-vuong-i-dont-believe-writer-should-just-keep-writing-as-long-as-theyre-alive-time-is-a-mother-paperback?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

One one day sin will die

He emits a sin daily
Can sin be mortal and where do I die after it?
Convenient sin is not as bad as Borstal
Menial sin is lowering to the pride of the sinner
Agreeable sin list free
Undeniable sin is public
Unreliable sin is when the other person won’t join you in bed
You are liable for sin tax if you are of working age.
Do not omit a sin on Sundays before Mass
Confirmation bias is worrying the Bishop
He sexually abused the mop in the kitchen as its head reminded him of women’s hair.Is it legal?Should I buy a different type?
He never watches porn as he can fantasise, you see.Well, you can’t actually see it as such.Isn’t it hard to write sensibly?
Isn’t the alphabet great? It helps us to come on FB and sin gaily,daily and freely.Then we can go to Confession if we have no date!

You know what it’s like when you wake up at 4?

I got up in the morning at quarter to four.

My watch did not speak, I put a spell on the floor.

I thought it was humid,nobody laughed.

I saw the headteacher kill one of the staff.

There is never a time to do what is right

Dogs will start barking, they are aching to fight

It is dark every morning and it’s sunny all night.

I put the cat in a basket and took care 8n the church.

The parish priest told me, I was left in the lurch.

I confess all my sins, I suffer from guilt

My husband is dead so I’ve thrown out the quilt.

The sound is insouciant the moon it looks vague.

The stars can’t be counted, I know there’s a plague

I was over in Ireland, the air was on fire.

The church is demonic the Pope is a liar

The British were armed and they tortured young men.

It seems that the world was much simpler back then.

The babies took drugs, the mothers went mad

They were missing some force so they called out for Dad

Now the mothers must work and the babies are farmed

The state guarantees it will do them no harm

So rock the old cradle, the baby is dead.

The end of the world is here on my bed

Emil talks to Mary about the Grenfell fire

Posted on June 18, 2017
Mary went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror.She no longer feared to see Satan, as compared to many living and dead human beings he seemed almost an angel.
Her hair was standing on end and she realised that it was one thing to buy a box of 24 combs from Amazon but quite another to use one.
Ah, well, Stan preferred it wild, she told herself.But that was a long time ago.It was no longer thick and wavy.That stopped men singing,”O Sole Mio” when she passed them while they were painting the outside of a neighbour’s house.They probably didn’t know what it meant and neither did she.
Why am I looking into the mirror, she wondered? Maybe I am lonesome.But who to visit?Who to invite for tea?
Emile pushed the door open.
Are you alright, mother, he mewed?
I am not your mother, Emile, she said to her little cat, being overly pedantic about every aspect of human life.
Ok,grandma,he continued.I see the Yodel van outside. He probably has something fo you or me.
Now, Emile, I’ve told you before you can call me Mary even if I am your grandmother.
Who was my mother, he asked?Did you adopt me?
Your mother was my mother’s cat “Arabella Stuart”.We called her Bella.Your father was a total mystery.
Presumably a cat, Emile pondered.
Why, did you think it was an animal of another type?
How about Stan.Was he my dad?
In a metaphorical sense, she murmured shyly.He loved you very much.And so do I.
When we watched the dreadful news on TV I was wondering if any animals had been killed by the fire.Nobody has said.I doubt if they would keep dogs up there but cats might have been allowed, he howled
Oh, dear,I admit I have not thought of that.It was so terrible seeing people waving from their windows holding their phones.Saying, I love you to their parents or children.And now the Chancellor says it is illegal here to use that aluminium cladding.
I bet he is going to try to oust Theresa May, Emile told her.
You men, you only think of one thing! Politics and fighting.And sex and hot sinners.
Do you mean dinners, that cat asked her?
No , hot sinners are harlots.
But how do we know it is a sin.To cats it is normal.Except we have no money to pay
I don’t know.The word sin is no longer heard as it is not politically correct
Whereas letting 58 people burn to death is politically correct as long as we don’t call it sinful.And all the others will be sick for years.
My God, you are getting clever, Emile, maybe you should run the country! Mary’s eyes filled with tears
You’d better make some hot tea with sugar, Emile announced.I will have 2 cubes.
They are not cubes anymore.They are spheres, she said softly.Sugrt spheres, How nice it sounds

Anaclitic

anaclitic

/ˌanəˈklɪtɪk/

adjective

PSYCHOANALYSIS

adjective: anaclitic

  1. relating to or characterized by a strong emotional dependence on another or others.”anaclitic depression”

Origin

1920s: from Greek anaklitos ‘for reclining’, from anaklinein ‘recline’.

Each night was a daydream

I was unready for anything,
with no charms, like a bee.
Each fresh day is torture..
When you don’t hate me.

I was as tame as a mango,
I was outright in my mind.
Each night was  a daydream
Where you were  so kind.

I was harmed by your molars.
They were sharper than whales.
Each claw brought the moon out.
As you cut your nails.

Rolling stones gather….
Your heart is not mine.
I’ll give you what you wish for.
It ‘s a true new design .
.
As long as the clock speaks
As long as the rose.
As long as the bike pumps..
I’ll remember your nose.

As long as my patterns;
As brief as they are;
As long as my brain’s dead…
I shall parse on a star.

I love a good proverb.
I love no cliche.
When you find some Wisdom
Do not never pay.

Justice long as a ruler,
Sharpened to a screw.
When you are more kind,then
I may leak what I brew
.
As long as the flat Earth
As wise as it’s broad.
The moon in the water

Flew up my nose

Nurses who kill…why?

Whether healthcare serial killers enter the field in order to kill – or fall into it – is difficult to say.

A “rare few” enter the profession to become “angels of death,” while many transform into killers on the job, Prof Ramsland said.

Prof Yardley said it was often a combination of the two.

“These are individuals who will have obtained a sense of power and enjoyment from harming people in the past and see opportunities to escalate this behaviour in a hospital when they become aware of the access and opportunities that this setting affords,” she said.

Flowering rose

Apples hang low near the ground.
robins chirrup all around.
sun on glowing maple leaves
gives a red glow that deceives.

Autumn air is flowing near,
though it’s still bright summer here.
wind dismays the flowering rose
as with arrogance it blows.

Leave me one flower for my eyes.
Leave me roses,as I sigh.
Leave me not my dearest one.
Soon enough we shall be gone.

What remains is love alone.
If your heart is not of stone.
Fear not sorrow,fear not woe.
Into this earth all must go.

Love in a wheelie bin

Stan was in his front garden polishing the wheelie bins with lavender wax polish.
He was not very happy as the garden was only 10 feet by 12. so the huge wheelie bins ruined it.When he got to the third one the lid popped open and out jumped his next door neighbour “Adulterous Annie”.
Hello, Stan” she whispered.”Where’s Mary now ?”
“Why?” Stan muttered into the back of her neck which he licked as he like her salty taste.
“I was thinking, these bins are so big, we could both get inside one.It would make a change1!”.
”What a strange idea” he replied philosophically.however , age was no obstacle where love was involved. if you catch my drift.
Soon Stan and Anne were in the big green recycling bin.Stan being 81 had shrunk somewhat so he took up less space than Annie did.He allowed her to kiss his left eyelid.What a lovely feeling.
Alas, all too soon, as they say, they heard Mary’s bicycle bell.She was getting faster and faster.As she wheeled her bike up the 30-yard long front path to the porch she heard murmurings and mutters,
She lifted up the green plastic lid and saw the two lovers covered in cuttings from the privet hedge.
“What the bleedin’ hell are you doing in there?” she shouted mellifluously.
Well , it’s hard to explain,……………but Stan was wondering about a green funeral” Anne said mischievously.
“Funeral , my hat!” Mary said coldly.”Get out at once”
“Don’t speak to me like that” Stan beseeched her brazenly.
“Well ,it’s a shock to find your husband in the bin with another woman!”
“Wouldn’t it be more of a shock if he was in the bin with a man, or even a sheep?”
“Schmann or Schwommann, sheep,it’s immaterial.
“Hurry, get out, quickly before the school exit time.what will all the mums think as they go by?”
But poor Stan could not get out.He was stuck.Oh ,my! what an odd phrase.
“Have you got your mobile on you?”
“Yes, it’s here in my bag.
“You’d better call 999”
“What a brilliant idea!”
Soon, Dave, the paramedic arrived.
Mary showed him Stan’s situation.
Ever resourceful,Dave was not bothered though the NHS budget might be getting cut.
He tied some rope around Stan’s waist and between the three of them and Emile the cat and his friend Elizabeth, they managed to haul the poor man out.
Annie stood weeping with shame.Her silvery blue eyeshadow was beginning to run mixed with tears and black water soluble mascara from Chanel of Paris and London.
Her new coral lipstick from Clinique was not as non-allergenic as she hoped.Never mind, it gave her lips that bee stung look that many men admire.It reminded Stan of his boyhood days playing near High Force Waterfalls in upper Teesdale….
Teesdale ,still an undiscovered and undervalued part of England.
Contact the English Touring Board for more information. Holiday Loans available from Thwaites of Stockton and Darlington at only 1% interest.
Mary gave Annie a large Kleenex tissue,
”Come indoors,honey, and I’ll make you some Ceylon tea.It’s been the most thrilling event of my entire life and I’ve photographed you with my new Nokia camera phone
[Prices available on request from The Cat-phone Warehouse,Teesside ,Northern England, comes in pink and pink and…pink?How I love pink!]
I’m going to send some to the local paper.
Stan staggered upstairs covered in bits of privet ,lettuce and cabbage hearts, and carrot tops ,not to mention a few dozen banana skins and potato peelings.
What an afternoon.[Please contact the society for the care and protection of vegetables if you wish to make a complaint about this story.}
“That’s the last time I climb into a wheelie bin”, he thunked
“Next time we’ll use the cardboard and newspaper wheelie bin” he proclaimed to Emile.
Well, there;s no fool like an old fool,Emile miaowed
And so say all of us