Month: Feb 2025

My mother’s hands were black and much beloved


Posted on November 11, 2017
The summer heat made cobblestones like stoves
The Coronation happened, I know now
We played with melted tar, industrial bairns.

My mother’s hands were black and much beloved
The coal and coke had tattooed her, we saw.
The summer heat made cobbles hot as stoves.

In the road, we played our ancient games
The older children passed the knowledge down
We played with melted tar, industrial wains.

The bully boys were cruel , did not heed love
A little boy had tried to be a clown
In summer heat, they beat him on the stones.

We were silent as they flaunted power again;
But in our hearts, we knew we’d let him down
We threw warn melted tar, industrial wains

And in our phantasy, he was alone.
No-one knew who threw the vicious stone
The summer heat made cobbles feel like flames
We played with melted tar, Christ died again

So he kept on smiling

My husband liked being recumbent

He was lazy in all of his ways.

I never knew he was dying

As he kept on smiling.

What can I say in his praise?

I told him off for keeping me waiting

Not knowing his heart had a leak.

In a way I admired him

For keeping cabs standing

And being reluctant to speak.

He rarely addressed these cab drivers

But blessed them, each one, with his gaze.

He sat with composure

And little disclosure…

Though sometimes his guns were ablaze.

When the drivers were told he had passed,

Some wept and my hands they each grasped.

Oh, my dear lady

We were all ready

To drive you to Barnet so fast.

The compassion from the humble and lowly

The love from the poor and the weak

What can I say for

We miss all his labours

If only we could, at least, hear him speak.

I held his left hand for an hour

I held it again for much more.

I felt a stiff tendon

Which refused any bending

And massaged it as I sat on the floor.

He never repeated me he loved me,

Or how I should live when he’d gone.

I suppose by that time

He believed all was kind.

And his earthly endeavors were done.

It seems like a dream, a performance…

And I keep thinking life will resume.

I see no apparitions

Have no new intuitions

This is my life, I presume.

Mary tried to write with a grapefruit spoon:The problems of women and pens.

5230552_f260Mary had a busy morning ironing Emily’s nightdresses whilst the cat lay under the table watching her.Eventually she rang BT to enquire whether a 66 per cent increase in the bill was  normal when inflation was onlty 3 per cent.Despiter her knowledge of quantum theory and dysfynctional analysis she was unable to understand the explanation.Though she did get a slight reduction.

As she sat down at the table to fill in the Accounts Book she realised that instead of a pen she had a grapefruit spoon in her right hand.

This is just the end,she told herself.I need to relax.I am all knotted up like a ball of  string.How can I change my life? Alas  no ideas came into her mind as she sat staring out of the French windows at the grey and lilac  November sky.

As Stan came back from his walk full of fresh air, he saw Mary sitting sobbing by the television.

What’s the matter,dearest? he asked her gently.

It’s all these bills plus the fact that I buy hundreds of pens every year yet can never find one,she said dolefully.

Yes,it’s a bit like the disappearing teaspoons, he said in a reflective tone.I suppose we must accidentally toss them into the kitchen bin when clearing up.I am not surprised so many old folk get paranoia as we like to think somebody else is responsible for  the mess we live in.

And,Mary said,I bought a tablet since it’s Black Friday.But after spending ages trying to connect the camera I found it doesn’t have one.

That’s the downside of trying to buy things more cheaply,Stan said wisely.

I suppose it’s a bit like a religion.Everyone is rushing about buying stuff so we feel we should join in,Mary  blurted out in a manner unlike her usual detached and affectless manner developed as a technique in her job as a maths lecturer.

I think I’d rather meditate in the church than go shopping for bargains,Stan answered.Do you feel we ought to resume our old religion.he asked her pointedly.

Well,you’ll have to give up sinning with Annie, she told him with a  smile.I know i am a bit lacking in that department but it’s not personal to you.I have never felt much interest in sex except with a film star.Perhaps I should have been a nun.Still I do like sharing my life with you and the cats and even Annie…. and we have our daughters too though where are they now?

Are we keeping this little female cat,Stan asked jovially.

Oh,yes.I have already bought her some nightdresses so  she can sleep by your arm at night

.I just hope Emile will not be jealous,Mary said anxiously.

Well.I want a female in bed,even if it’s a cat,Stan told her.I just want a bit of affection.And she seems not to be a scratcher.Emily purred loudly as she had been starving since her owner Jean had moved into a retirement complex where animals were forbidden although they do allow fleas and bed bugs we are  told.But who wants to sleep with a bug ? They are unkind and nasty little creatures though God must have had a plan for them.He alone knows what it was.

Annie was standing outside wearing a red corduroy outfit and a purple woollen hat. and matching suede leather boots.She tapped on the window and Mary went to open the back door.

Would you like some tea,Annie,she asked  her politely.

I’d love some.,was the answer.I have made some shortcake with real butter in it and  she pulled a large bag of biscuits from her large leopard skin handbag..

Did you make them,Mary enquired courteously.

Yes,I decided to begin to buy fewer things in the shops and I use less sugar.Did you know your brain and heart need some fat?

No,said Mary.But I know the brain contains a lot of fat… so we must need it and butter is delicious as well.Maybe I shall make something but I have a lot of ironing  with the new cat.

Surely you don’t iron the cat,Annie shouted. in horror

No, it’s just she likes pretty dresses,Mary called.Come here Emily, she carried on.Emily came out from under the table wearing a white denim skirt and a pink blouse…. and a red hat.

How can she climb trees, asked Annie.

Well,all these clothes are machine washable.And she has no shoes on so  she can use her claws.Anyway she doesn’t go out much as she hates the cold.I suppose I could get her a goodesdown parka…

I think some jeans would be better, or jeggings.. with a tunic  top.How about a headscarf too now it’s winter,Annie murmured softly

What a problem it is for cat owners.Should they put their pets on a fixed allowance or let them spend whatever they like with their own credit card?The two  women were  soon deep in thought while Stan went and made some nice hot tea.We all need a man now and then… even if we don’t have one of our own… maybe we can borrow one like we do with library books.Now that seems a good idea.

Stan would be shocked at the thought he might be avaiable on loan from the library but it would make him feel wanted and useful and give him an insight into the women of Knittingham and their unique ways.And that might help his marriage or at least give them something to talk about.

The end of the tale

We learned rigor and icy vision

What was so wrong about asking
About your absence from this world
And trying to grab you back
holding onto your coat tail
Eternity’s long enough already
We don’t need your vapour trails.
Was it a wicked thing to do
As you floated so far away
To reach out to touch you once more
I admit I never knew you kept score.
When I beat you at chess so long ago
Were you already packing bags
to throw out the door?
I knew it was the real thing
But some men never do.
You have your expectations
And your tests and rules
But we never learned those
In our higher math schools.
We learned rigour and icy vision
We learned definition and precision.
But what use are they in loving
I didn’t know how to steer with no maps
You were off anyhow.
The orchestra stoped playing
When they saw the gap.
You can’t fly forever
But I do be leaving you.
In the circumstances
What else does a woman like me do.
You can smile and squeeze your eyes tight
Suck in those cheeks and hide your love.
What’s coming after you’s an eagle or a crow
Not a dove…it’s black I know
When you toss it all away then
Seems like it’s long past time
and emotion to call it a day.
Come again…..you must be crazy
Love is clear to me now like the face of a new born daisy

Oh,God be my perspective point, my art

Oh God be my perspective point,my art

Let me use you as a goal or guide.

Teach me how to learn the human heart.

Take me  where all living waters start

Show me how to use the maps beside

Oh God be my perspective point, my art

Let the ghosts of demons wry depart.

Upon the waves of Fury let me ride

Teach me how to touch the human heart.

The sailors watch horizons and their charts

Faith in the unknown is our ally

Oh God be my perspective point, my art

Where is the human being who can’t die?

All the fishes in the oceans sigh

Oh God,you who have vanished, be my art

In my mourning I will find your heart

I’ve not been old at all my life

I have not been old all my life, you know

I know that there are  different sorts of heaters from radiators to convectors.

I know what it’s like to fall in love with someone selfish or ridiculous.

I may not look beautiful now but I once was.

Once I could read books without my glasses on

I could read the computer screen and the keyboard together simultaneously in other words

I could run for the bus

Well I could drive in fact.

I could carry lots of shopping from the supermarket and put it away without getting tired.

I could even run up the stairs

I had parents and siblings I had an extended family

I’ve not always been alone in the world

Women envied my complecion and admired my hair

Men lusted after me. They even fell in love with me.

So don’t give me your foolish advice or even you are good advice

No I don’t mind good advice but not when I’m feeling really sensitive. In any case it’s very hard for anybody to really emphasize with another person when you’ve not gone through the same things in life.

The golden light

February sears the human soul.

Our patience has run out, no end, no goal.

Yet beneath the ground the worms will toil

The seeds will germinate though they are frail

The gardener with his spade will dig a hole.

In the spring the shoots will pierce the earth

Life returns, the plants will feel rebirth

And in our hearts we feel the joy again.

When love is dead this joy may still remain

But here it’s cold and grey like winter death

We’re too weary even for our wrath..

And yet the birds will sing once more at dawn.

The thrush will eat the worm upon the lawn

The robin waits upon the fork upright.

And here again we see the golden light

Emile gets his nerve back

  • Tabby-Cats3

    Wikipedia

    Stan was happy for a few moments when he woke up.Then he realized Emile was not anywhere to be seen.Mary had already gone out as she wanted to catch a very early train to London.She needed to visit the British Library.She urgently wanted to find evidence that Wittgenstein wore a hat in bed.
    Stan went searching around the house but Emile had vanished.Usually at 8 am he would be dashing about pretending to chase flies and giving a balletic performance worthy of Sadler’s Wells.
    I wonder who Sadler was,Stan muttered as he filled the kettle with fresh water and put some Earl Grey tea into the teapot.
    Then, a strange feeling came over him.He looked up and there was Emile
    crouched on top of the highest cupboard in the kitchen.
    Emile,he cried,What are you doing up there?
    I’m training to be a spy,Emile replied nonchalantly.
    But how could this kitchen be of interest to the Intelligence Services?
    Well,the cat murmured,I am practising hiding.
    You gave me a terrible shock,Stan said.I had this feeling I was being watched.I wondered if it was paranoia.Then I saw your gleaming eyes.
    So,I need to get some dark glasses,Emile said.
    No,I would still feel that horrible feeling.And how were you planning to get down from that high ledge?
    I’m not sure,the cat mioawed faintly
    Well,the first lesson for a spy or even a detective is,
    Never go anywhere unless you can make a quick exit,
    As it is,I may have to ring 999.
    Just then the front doorbell rang.There stood a man with a white beard and moustache.
    Hello,he said holding out his hand to shake Stan’s.
    I am called Peter Fried.I have just moved into one of the new flats across the road.I am a psychoanalyst.I have taken on another flat to use as a consulting room and a waiting room
    A psychoanalyst! Do we need one round here? Well,Good morning,I have just brewed some tea.Would you like to join me?
    How kind,said Peter.
    I say,old bean,did you know there’s a cat on top of your cupboard?
    Yes,that is Emile.Today he has surpassed himself in wickedness.How I will get him down I don’t know.
    My training analyst used to say,What goes up must eventually come down.
    That seems a bit weird for an analyst.To what was he referring… something to do with sex I don’t doubt.It’s all sex with you people.
    Yes, some of us are very peculiar…that’s why we enter the profession.
    What I meant was,if Emile got up he can get down.How did you get up,Emile?
    I leaped,answered the tense animal.
    Can you leap down?
    I’ve lost my nerve,replied the poor creature softly.
    Well, as it happens,being a therapist,I always carry few sparwe nerves with me.I’ll climb up this stepladder and pass you a new nerve.
    And without waiting,Peter climbed the ladder.He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a golden thread.
    Here you are,Emile,Catch this in your claw.
    Emile caught the golden thread and wrapped it around his neck.
    Can you leap down now? enquired Stan.
    Emile leaped down and landed in a bowl of hot water in the sink.
    It’s a good thing I wasn’t making chips,laughed Stan.
    Come here,Emile and let me dry you on this old towel.He put Emile
    in front of the fire and he and Peter drank mugs of Earl Grey tea.
    I have got a mistress,Stan told Peter.
    Well,do you want therapy for your conflict?
    Oh,no.I’m far too old for therapy or indeed for a mistress.I was wondering of you would perhaps be interested …she just likes to spend a little time with an intriguing man.. talking, drawing graphs, interpreting data,making tea,calling the ambulance.. you know what I mean.She likes the paramedic,Dave.
    Is she not married?
    No,her husband fell into the wheelie bin during the night and alas he was taken away with the rubbish.
    That is a strange story.Are you certain?
    No,it could be he grew tired of her and ran away.Then she invented this story,
    Well,this may be a quiet suburb but I can see there is plenty of material here for me to write my next book:
    Deceptive appearances and the fascination of apparent dullness.
    Oh,that sounds very unusual.
    Well,I’ve never believed in true dullness.There is always a story.
    See,I’ve just met you a man of 98 yet you have a wife, a mistress and a crazy cat.. and I’ve only been here for one day.Imagine 6156119_f260

    what else I may discover here.
    They heard a siren.
    Oh,no!We’ve not even rung 999 and here is the ambulance….
    Mary will be so angry..You see Dave is bisexual.
    My goodness,are you having an affair with him.
    No way,shouted Stan.My life is tough enough already.He can be bisexual or even trisexual but I’m not interested.
    What does trisexual mean,enquired Emile.
    I have no idea but I thought it sounded good,admitted Stan.
    Peter stood up.
    I think I’d better go home and start to see my patients.
    Now Emile,put your nerve somewhere safe.We don’t want you to lose it again.
    Thank you,darling cried Emile.I think I’ve formed an erotic transference with you already.
    Peter rushed out.
    Is it me or is it them?he wondered.
    I thought it would be quiet here on the edge of Knittingham but I think now wherever you are there will always be something unexpected happening.But I hope Emile will not begin to follow me around.I shall have to buy a lady cat and then Emile might fall in love with her instead.So off Peter went whistling a Bach cello suite and wondering how to cope with life in a suburb.. clearly it was not as dull as he had imagined.

The story of Stan’s briefcase

By Katherine

Stan was in the dining room looking for an aged briefcase with his autobiography in it while Emile sat on an old TV set in the window looking at the birds.Mary was in the garden wearing an ancient yet trendy denim dress planting some trailing rosemary,lavender and sage in a small bed near the French window..She had decided that her salvation lay in the soil though what form it would take was not yet clear ;suddenly she heard a harsh cry.It was her neighbor telling off his dog,Emmanuel.Come,now ,he shouted.
Hail,Mary,he called.Can you spare a big potato?
Probably,she muttered peevishly without looking up.
I am making sausage boulangere, he informed her.But I use turkey sausages as I am a Jewish Hindu semi vegetarian.
I am not interested in religion,she told him kindly.I believe one can worship God ,if there is one, somewhere like a wood.
I like being on a group ,he told her thoughtlessly..
Well ,go and be in one she said naughtily.Do you like sex in a group?I am a mathematician and we study rings and groups but only in symbols as maths is like life with all the sensuality removed,if you catch my meaning,she ended artlessly.
Stan appeared at the door.I have just made the tea ,.he called.Hi Brian, how are you?i Why are you wearing a dress today?Are you changing gender?
No,said Brian,I am a mere transvestite especially in the summer.You should try on a dress,they are more comfy in the heat!
Well,maybe I will said Stan with utter sang froid.But it makes more ironing…
hey all sat down at the kitchen table and ate some delicious scones San had just baked and also they drank PG tips tea with milk and sugar as that is what the English most like to do apart from getting drunk.
Where is that lady Annie who lives next to you,asked Brian pensively..I like her bright clothes and her vivid lipstick.Is she single,he enquired in a faux naive manner.Well, perhaps but she is my mistress, said Stan defensively.Aha,aha,laughed Brian as he eyed the shrunken old man.
Now then,said Mary,leave him alone.He is like a magnet,women flock to him..
Now don’t exaggerate,Stan said shyly.I’ve not had that many.
I see said Brian.I’d love to hear more….. you’ll have to come to the pub and tell me the details.
Not flamin’ likely,thought Stan. ,as he examined his cracked leather briefcase with real brass buckles,backstraps and front pocket, a bargain at £3 and ten shillings in 1949.Hurry as not many are left.
All of a sudden ,he fell off his chair which broke into fragments..Brian was awed.I’ve never seen a chair break up like that he cried.
Well,ring 999 said Mary, a paramedic can fix it

S

Outside the door

The dear face once familiar is no more

He’s in another room there is no door

I cannot see his face nor hear his voice

How can this be when once we were so close?

My heart feels sad and hollow at the core

I wish that you were here love as before.

Yet in the time of death we have no choice.

My skin , once fine, with weeping has grown coarse

The mind and heart and body are at war

The dear face once familiar is no more

Why do I still wait outside the door?

On falling down the full stop at the end of a sentence

Blind sight scattered my wits
Like whitened bones
Across the deserts of my mind.
I descended into darkness.
Love shrank into the tame cat
By the fire,unacknowledged hate
Grew to fill the room.
I stared too much.
A full stop grew gigantic
Crowded out
All the words in the sentence
I saw nothing but this dot
Now a gigantic black hole
Into which I was dragged.
An energy coming from within my own head
Sucked me into the black hole.
That place was the wrong sort of darkness.
Within that full stop,
Love Fundamental became invisible.
Disappeared into the dark.
I dragged my eyes away
And saw the moon appear,so eerie,
It shone,grey silver.
If I had opened my eyes wider
I would not now lament
What I destroyed in the wormhole
Of the black dot that drew my eye
Into a tunnel of darkness
It blinded me to the light
Did not let me read the sentences
Beside the full stop.
An error of focus left hate
Unacknowledged,unmitigated, unredeemed,
Kept from love or goodness
Afraid to spoil my love with hate,
The fear of hate became
That which spoiled all else else,
By freezing Love itself.

The downside of tidiness

The room in which she lay, like the sitting room through which they had passed, despite its comfort was too carefully furnished, achieving an organised perfection which for him was unwelcoming and impersonal.

P D James

The private patient

The evening

In the day the ghosts   wander through the house

Looking in the bread crock or the cake tin

Wondering about making tea

They make me feel uneasy

But now in the evening they have gone to their abode

They were not harming me but they were troubled

Asking me have you paid the bills

Have you put the rubbish out?

Are you alright?

I try to pretend they’re not here but I can feel them in the air

At kast it’s peaceful I feel my body expanding with relief

I don’t have to do anything now

Unless I really want to

Do I want to watch Maggie and George on channel 4?

They are ghosts in a different way

I did not think I would want to see her face again

Harriet Walter is over the top like the evil twin

More like the evil queen I realise.

Now we have the likes of Lynne Truss

She couldn’t carry it off because nobody believed in her but we all believed in Maggie alas.

Wouldn’t it be better to watch something more amusing?

It’s hard to imagine these days

In my mind I’m on a trolley in A&E in the corridor.

At least you’re not lonely in the corridor well not exactly lonely but you’re not exactly with people either

Just being near hurrying people running down the corridor is not the same as being with another person

But then how often are we really with anybody at all in the full sense of the word?

You can’t be with somebody when you can hardly be with yourself and picking up the paper and seeing what Trump has done now, it’s pretty disruptive of the present

Most of us feel a bit of self doubt if only Trump had a tiny bit. Was

Did no one think how it would affect him that he would believe God has ordained him and preserved him for a special task

Maybe he’s in charge of Armageddon in his mind and

Like someone sang

In my mind I’m going to Carolina

I’m going to Carolina in my mind

But that was a different meaning and I’m certainly not going there

Would anyone write a book called “I and Thou* now?

And who shall inherit the earth

After the bombs go off?

Come now, after the ghosts have gone, let’s enjoy our solitude.

Never pass water in public.

The saying

Never pass water in public

Might make it difficult if you live near  a lake or river.

Or it’s been raining and there’s a puddle on the payment mother told you never to pass it in public

Never skate on our water until it freezes

Passing water can be hard for the elderly so remember this when you’re drawing up your walking expedition. Don’t take them to the lake District.

Now moving on what about passing out?

I once passed out at the dining table but usually soldiers pass out after they’ve completed their training. That’s why they look so numb

Some drugs make me pass out the main one being gtn or glycerol trinitrate. This is a treatment for angina which blows open all your arteries. But if you are inexperienced and use too much of it you will feel as if your eyes can’t see properly your scalp will start to sweat profusely and the world will shrink around you

If you feel like this try to kneel down or lie down on the floor to avoid injuring yourself when you faint. Is there any happened to me once and it was horrible

Remember not everybody is drunk when they act in a strange way because it can also because by diabetic medication to lower the blood sugar.

If it goes too low you can actually pass out or even die

But your doctor won’t get into trouble because they were giving you the treatment recommended the fact that it affects you more than other people it’s nothing to do with the doctor.

They are all terrified of being accused of doing something wrong

Well that’s only right isn’t it?

By the way if you pass large amounts of water and feel terribly thirsty that may very well be a sign of diabetes.

If you get to the point when you’re losing weight it is not because your drinking half a point of water before every meal. It is that you’ve got diabetes your body cannot take the sugar out of your blood to feed the cells and for some reason which I don’t quite understand it begins to  digest your muscles.

I’ve known two friends who were so happy they were losing weight until the real reason was found.

One of them had an eating disorder and she could eat very few foods so she concentrated on cheesecake as being full of protein

You can’t live on cheese cake

You could live on bread and cheese plus salads  and maybe some boiled eggs, tomatoes etc

The wronged kindness of  nonsense 

In the haunted pub
We ate hot food and wondered
What is common sense?

In the sky ,snow hung
The  park was  icy and black
The farm was quiet

What is common? Sense?
What have we lost since that time?
Now we live nonsense.

Where is the humour?
The wronged kindness of  nonsense
The futility

Who says what is true?
Who speaks what is  silent , lost?
Who is the channel?

What is true has left.
“Maybe” hangs from black branches
Like dead fruit or  leaf

The autumn  orange
The senselessness of speeches
The withering   glance

The edge  of our  land
Borders are  more anguished
Cannot connect us

New laws and rules
Trial  by separation
The barbed rust   pierces

There is no heartland
There is no inside at all
Nowhere to  live well

 

 

 

Minatory meaning

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Hit the bed

Helleborus_EricSmithii2018.jpgHumour usually helps us,It helps physical illness,tension,depression,stress.It helps people to forgive each other and it helps our minds to function better,There are lots of books with collections of humour from different sources, different people and different cultures even religions.You can also get good sources from the internet if you want to save money.
Then,think about games we played as children.They were often funny although children can be cruel.Why not make up some jokes yourself as a kind of game.That can be more beneficial than just reading them.Writing also helps when we are ng online.On Penzu you can share too if you wish.
I find my own humour makes me laugh even though I made it up myself
Scientific humour
When you are courting a  handsome man an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder a second seems like an hour. That’s relativity.
Alberta MacEinstein [Ms]
When you are making her tea with parboiled water, remember that she might empty the pot on you and then where would you be?
That’s uncertainty.
Wendy Heisenberg.{Dr}
I was raised as a Catholic,taught always to commit at least one sin prior to Confession,never to eat before taking Communion and especially never to Confess before or after eating left over Communion wafers whilst having sex with a rubber man.
Pope Jane 1
A minute reading some blogs seems like it’s been raining for a year, and a minute reading a naughty joke makes women wet themselves in seconds.
That’s uncommon sense
Tea Leafe.[Mrs]
A man and a woman make love.Then there are three.That’s family life.

They say using your hands is good for you so I hit the bed with a stick and ten mice ran out and asked for asylum.They  already spoke English and knew who Meghan Markle is so I reckon they are British.