“Some think that sloth, one of the capital sins, means ordinary laziness,” I began. “Sticking in the mud. Sleeping at the switch. But sloth has to cover a great deal of despair. Sloth is really a busy condition, hyperactive. This activity drives off the wonderful rest or balance without which there can be no poetry or art or thought — none of the highest human functions. These slothful sinners are not able to acquiesce in their own being, as some philosophers say. They labor because rest terrifies them. The old philosophy distinguished between knowledge achieved by effort (ratio) and knowledge received (intellectus) by the listening soul that can hear the essence of things and comes to understand the marvelous. But this calls for unusual strength of soul. The more so since society claims more and more of your inner self and infects you with its restlessness. It trains you in distraction, colonizes consciousness as fast as consciousness advances.The true poise of contemplation or imagination, sits right on the border of sleep and dreaming. ……….and hoping for redemption by art, I fell into a deep snooze that lasted for year.
At first it seemed like summer once again
When cats curled up on cushions drowse and dream
Yet second seeing finds the sun estranged
Makes autumn bring out ancient colouring schemes
The world, intense, is full of new born dawns
At first it seems like summer still remains
We love the greeny grass of ancient lawns
Yet second seeing learns the sun’s disdain
While cats curled up on cushions drowse and dream
While little children play with whip and ball
Then autumn brings out ancient coloured schemes
As we begin to view the full filled Fall
So older people’s minds weave new and lost
And cats curled up on cushions drowse and dream
We notice how the sun has burned the grass
While autumn paints its ancient coloured themes
Round the wheel turns at a steady pace
Yet it seemed like summer had remained
Nature does not enter any race
Yet second seeing finds the sun estranged
In my end is origin and growth
For the racing hare and weary sloth
Do you want some new shoes for the autumn, Annie cried excitedly to her neighbour Mary, who was sweeping the front path which had been covered by red leaves from the local trees?
Well it won’t be autumn for much longer and moreover my feet are painful
Well do you want some new shoes for the winter?.
I would like some Brogues. I used to have some from Potters of Wiganbl and Stalybridge.
What happened to them, Annamie said brightly?
I put all my comfortable shoes into a bag to take them upstairs and someone must have thought it was rubbish and put them into the dustbin because I can’t find them anywhere.
Well it wasn’t me mioawed Emile Mary’s delightful cat.
And it wasn’t I cried Dave the adorable paramedic as he ran through the front door and into the kitchen wearing the green and red striped dress which he adored.
Well I have looked up and down and high and low and in and out and roundabout ai I have completely given up.
Let’s let’s all have a nice cup of boiling hot decaffeinated tea preferably earl grey! (The author did the same and scalded herself)
I would love one said Dave seriously.
When Annie carried in the tray of tea she heard Mary explaining to Dave that her feet were very deformed and she could no longer wear new shoes because they were too stiff.
Well you could buy some second hand ones from eBay or vintage ones or who knows!?
They’ve not made any for several years but maybe somebody’s been wearing them and they’ve got nice and battered and she’s decided to get new ones.
So she’s going to sell them for five pounds to someone either very poor or with terrible feet
I used to like beautiful shoesvsaid Mary but now I am in this terrible pain from arthritis I wouldn’t mind as long as I can get them on and they don’t hurt otherwise I can’t go outside especially in the winter because sandals might be comfortable in the summer but even then when your feet are deformed sandals don’t give enough protection
Well we’ll have to go on to Google and put in some old brogues wanted
Or Anny thought to herself would we prefer some old rogues?
Perhapa she would but she’s not saying anything to the others sometimes Annie can feel a bit hurt by the way that her friends treat her as if she’s not as good as them because she hasn’t read summs theologica or Hitler’s diaries on the other hand they might be interested in the recent discovery of Hitler’s DNA
Again the dear lady remains silent.
Perhaps she is undergoing a metamorphosis meanwhile Mary has found some grey brogues for sale and they look very well worn
But we can’t look in the Guardian for what to wear with a pair of worn-old brogues when all the Guardian shows is what to wear with your new knee-high boots or what to wear with your sheepskin mittens. The entire outfit will cost about 935 pounds which tells you something about the salaries of journalists!
Is there any newspaper or magazine that would advise you what to wear with a pair of second-hand battered old brogues you know they are made by a very good shoe company? Would the Queen wear them instead of trainers?
You never know. look at least Mary we will be able to go outside when she gets these old shoes otherwise you’d have to cut the toes out of her present shoes and that’s not very nice in the winter is it?
Well many people like Michael Rosen the wealthy poet are criticized for using their free bus pass even when they are age 79 and have nearly died of covid. And who defines wealthy nowadays question mark is Mary wealthy because she has a house?
Why someone like Michael Rosen gets attacked on Twitter or X is a great puzzle with it only goes to show that noone is safe;after all:look what happened to Jesus Christ and they didn’t even have mobile phones in those days let alone social media thought for the day
The better kinder more thoughtful you are the more likely you are to be attacked especially on social media.
So if you lose your London bus pass for pensioners do not put it on x I’m X keep quiet about it and just ask your friends what to do You don’t need to ask entire world for advice
short-eared durham owl
meditating over the dale’s edge,
shadows the fields and folds
in elegant diurnal flight.
on wind-side,careful sight,
may swoop to prey
and away.
your yellow broad-eyed look,
at once both sharp and distant,
holds me.
oh,silence,
oh,wind on green,
oh,earth,
sky.
immense your held vision,
sphere without center,
pied geometer of flight,
oh, swift descent and ascent.
trees bunched by dry stone wall
call heart home
The art of doing nothing’s hard to learn To sit and daydream till we get new thoughts It’s immoral, say the Puritans reformed
Harder to accept the need to mourn So many ancient losses strip our hearts. The art of doing nothing’s hard to learn
The feelings that seemed hardest to be borne We could have looked for maps or sought out charts It’s immoral to seek help so we’ve been told
Here we weep when our skinned hearts are torn We fear we may have forfeited love’s balm The art of doing nothing’s hard to learn
We only know our self when love is born In another’s eyes we find our calm Reject the harshness of old Luther’s forms
Fear not death, for there are strong wide arms God is not a monster who wills harm The art of doing nothing will prepare For when we meet one day his welcome stare
They knew what we moderns learned this year When deprived of company and touch We need to feel, we need the hands that care
As cats will sleep in heaps beside the fire I would warm,caress you, humans must Cats knew what we humans learned this year
I remember when you brushed my hair When you held me close your skin was musk We need to feel, we need the hands that care
Even touching gently your skin bare Gave me solace, made my world seem just Cats knew what we humans learned this year
Crying babies,nursing them’s a prayer But refugees lie restless in the dust We need to feel, we need the hearts that care
They knew what we moderns learned this year When deprived of company and touch We need to feel, we need the hands that care
Poor in money, yet in loving rich Glue my broken heart up lest it cracks Ancients knew what moderns learned this year We need to feel, we need strong hands that care
When red sun drops and cooling night rolls in Darkness masks both danger and our vision Ancient minds fear day won’t come again Courage for the delicate seems thin. We wrestle with our indecision When low sun drops and a new night rolls in But now , fresh stricken by the dread of sin Who protects us from derision? Our ancient mind fears day won’t come again As we sleep we’re entertained within Bold dreams squander all illusion When sunset comes the darkest night rolls in In dreams we see new life arising Then fancy turns to full communion The ancient mind dreads day won’t come again Despite such angst, our sacred life began When sperm leaped up in proud confusion. When deep sun dropped and a new night rolled in All human hearts cried,Day shall come again”
How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose. For their intricate petals form a shield Yet bees with striped force shall make them yield. Appearances,both natural and contrived, Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive. As knowing not, we pluck the apple rare And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare. We too deceive the innocent who pass Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass. The windows break,the deep earth quakes; Seized is the maiden ,he her virtue takes. Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive. What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives
Old man,bending over, arched like a fallen moon in a dark lilac November sky. joy and pain wrestle my heart across the emptiness and toss it up like a damp rocket to fall in a hidden corner where mice live. Would that not be a good ending,to be dust to these little creatures nesting in my chewed green twine and my tartan basket? They have eyes and shiver in my hand when I rescue them from the cat… as any heart might. Now night falls on the newspaper basket where the damp Times and the Guardian mix into glue and tomorrow the sun will rise and it will just be the garbage with no poetic undertones nor deathly hushes.. Heather and a silver light you stand on a hill top like a god looking over his domain. Strong and now weak it’s the humane condition Everlasting life is too dangerous for humans. Silent,motionless,home of beetles bit by bit we fall away into the mother soil with cracked jugs and dropped coins for a future academic to dig into. Transparent hand touches me. Whose might it be
And it came to pass that they ate their dinner and that she did washeth up. And she did leave the dishes to drain Whilst she put on the washing machine. and the man was very pleased.
And it further came to pass that she gave the man some pudding and he was more pleased. And then it came to pass the he fell asleep By the fire.
And the Lord God,said Who is this man that sleepeth by his fire? And He said,I shall waken him up And the man awoke, And God spake unto him
How is it that the woman laboureth in ye kitchen. And that thou sleepeth here in an armchair. And the man said, But Thou didst order women to labour. And the Lord God said unto the man Why dost thou remember so selectively what I have said? And the man said, I knoweth not and therefore I will help this woman. And the Lord God said, Why dost thou not think of it thyself? And the man said in reply, It was Thou that made me,O God.
And the Lord God was displeased with the man. so he called down a plague of butterflies To prevent him from sleeping. And when the woman came in she was much pleased to see these butterflies and so she fell onto the man And he did make love unto her. And the cat was very pleased.
For it thrilled a cat to watch humans loving and gave him hope That the Lord God would take his rib and make a mate for him. And indeed it doth seem to have happened Judging by all the cats staring in ye old window here; And by their ecstatic yelps That the Lord God was very generous with them and made them many mates. For truly there is no jealousy among them And they mate freely and happily and never have rows about the washing up.. as they eat straight from the can.Amen
Here endeth today’s lesson. Be thou kind to thy mate always
The path on Arnside Knott came to the shore Where sea and river meet at my heart’s core Where wild flowers grow, where butterflies float on. The views of Lakeland Hills ,so ravishing
My heart was only half alive till then The land surpassed imagination I was used to mills and dirty air Despite the heather moors and hilltops bare
Later death came near on Langdale Pike My fingertips were hurting,feet agape Then my toe was back on a foothold The shadow of the mountain huge and cold
Beauty,love and death, the opera calls Singing as we walk the danger walls
I suspect our ability to ask the unanswerable questions that Hannah Arendt knew are the heartbeat of civilization is intimately related to our capacity for dwelling in a particular state of being beyond the realm of our compulsive doing. Bertrand Russell called it “fruitful monotony.” Adam Phillips called it “fertile solitude.” Walt Whitman called it “loafing.” The Buddhist tradition describes it simply as presence. Whatever we may call it, amid a culture of filling the existential void with cultish productivity and an endless stream of dopamine-laced distractions, it is nothing less than a countercultural act of courage and resistance to enact such states of being — states in which our inner voice becomes audible, the voice with which we sing the song of our lives.
The Pakistani-British psychoanalyst Masud Khan (July 21, 1924–June 7, 1989) calls this mode of being “lying fallow” and unfurls its psychological tendrils in a short, brightly penetrating essay included in his 1983 collection Hidden Selves (public library).
I do not think it’s a good idea for people to tmbe segregated by age. To my surprise I have discovered that it is a very modern development beginning with the industrial Revolution says that ultimately would lead to older people being put into homes so the the younger adults could work in factories and mills and coal mines. and now it’s gone even further to use women in the workforce it’s become almost normal for even the mothers of young babies to go back to work in a few weeks. you might you could explain that by the price of houses but it isn’t just that. they want to get all the adults between let’s say 16 and 70 into work so the children and the babies are with childminders or schools and the old people are in homes like leopards on the edge of the community cared for by lowly paid women sometimey show a great deal of love. personally I found it very difficult being in a place with several demented people because they do not have enough staff to give them the care they need and it serves a nasty message to the to the ones who haven’t got dementia look what happens to people like you. on the positive side or I can say is please visit your old relatives because I have observed that being a visited by a family member makes it very bigt difference to them. the symptoms of dementia are not static and anything that makes them relaxed or happy will reduce the symptoms. Don’t just throw us away like an old glove
Although living in a care home can be extremely lonely, i it’s possible to get very close to somebody. I got a very close to a lady of 100 who had dementia but it took time. the start with qu she the she was aggressive because I could not do what she wanted, but gradually got to trust me. after about 8 months she said to me one day that she knew it was me who was putting her blanket around because she said you are so gentle. then she said I love you. when she had been asking me to kill her ;that was quite a big advance. despite the fact that I had to leave the Home I don’t think it’s the wastr of time spending it with her. I think the fact that she felt she loved me which I think was genuine is good experience for her. despite the horrible boredom and frustration of her illness she was still able to make contact with another person and to be grateful for what she was receiving and I think even that small amount of care would give her spirit some comfort. Coming back i
Until recently I had never met anyone with dementia. Now I know three people although one of them died recently. It was interesting that they had the same diagnosis it’s affected them in very different ways. One woman who had been a teacher and studied English literature at university tells me things about the other people she livedbmwith which I believed at the beginning. When she said that she could read the news on the ceiling I understand that I must be aware that not everything she tells me was absolute truth. She. never forgot to ask me how my family were and remembered the details. Another lady was normal some of the time but then at other times she was screaming,help me and her face looked full of bitterness. She had one need or something if you wanted the carer to do but then would have another one 5 minutes later so even if someone has just been to see her she wanted someone else to come these two women could not walk independently. I think that added a lot of strain and
I have been visiting two people with dementia. One who shouts and screams a lot is quite rational if you can get used to her and calm her, and be present with your body. Sometimes she likes to hear me sing, to talk about her childhood At other times she will say that But at times she can’t control herself she can’t listen and have a conversation so she is able to reflect.she can’t walk and at the moment she is in her room all day. Extroverted so she doesn’t like to be alone all the time but sometimes I’ve heard the staff sayings of someone in a similar situation. We don’t do one-to-one caring here. We have got a lot of other people times look after. One-to-one caring is what you need and you could only get that in a different kind of home As it happens there are fewer people here than there were. I think there may be something wrong and they’re not taking new people so it should not be so difficult to care for someone like this. But on the other han
When true love’s gone and doom hangs overhead When life runs like a sewer to the sea Then shall I take new lovers to my bed. And with their carnal touch consoled be?
When my love lies and breaks my woman’s heart . When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path . Then, shall I my life of evil start And on the world shall I bestow my wrath?
When true loves lie and wreck all loyalty. When puzzlement makes all the world seem mad. Then I shall upend causality And let myself do deeds which make folk glad.
For I have love’s own child inside my soul
I shallcare for her until she is grown
1 Fell off writers’ block into a pit of tigers.Bad layout. 2.Strangled by over-loving cat.
Verdict: guilty
3.Large bottle of ink bounced back off wall . thus broke skull.Suicide denied by dead man or wife as appropriate [Delete one]
4 Forgot to eat while writing long novel.Was not worth it
5 Forgot to sleep owing to inspiration.Stupid despite possessing unique genius
6.Killed by malfunction of new laptop.[Can be returned to Amazon free when body is removed]
7.Tried to meditate and fell out of the window. Oriental death 8 Tried to clean outside of the window with a microfibre cloth.A pane broke and cut his throat.Incidental death 9 Got depressed by lack of air.Jumped and lost balance killing two cats on the patio.Verdict Unfair 10.Thought he was sleepwalking and walked off roof of extension [only just completed].Insurance will be paid. 11.Fainted in church and was used as a human sacrifice.Jesus wept 12 Hit head on bannister while falling down the stairs.Euthanasia while dizzy.Resurrection imminent 13.Fought off wife but bitten by the dog .Both dead.Verdict, pointless end. 14 Wrote a best seller, got drunk and died of shock! 15 His website was declared a threat to humanity.Died of shame.
My husband was in the hospital and he tested positive for TV
That’s all right you can turn him on whenever you like
The surgeon drained my knee with a lozenge. Or was it a Syrian? I wish I’d learnt to read when I was blunder
Did they put a primula in the back of your hand first?
She said your knee is twice the normal size, are you in any discomfort?
I knew my stockings were too tight, so I said, no.
She said, you don’t seem to realize the toll this is taking on me.
So I suggested she should change her job.
I was having a problem distinguishing between myself and other people.
She said, all this pain is bad for you. Would you like a morphine patch on your shoulder?
I said, what about putting it on my bladder I would really like that better
She said I’ve never been so consulted in my satired life. You have to put the patch on your skin on top of some blood vessels
So I said, what about putting it over my heart?
Maybe you could inject it right into my heart directly.
That will be assisted dying and it’s not even legal yet so I will be committing murder.
I didn’t realise morphine was so dangerous. And it can make you feel depressed as well as killing you
Have you noticed now that nearly all the doctors are women and they work part-time and they tell you at 8:00 p.m. in A&E,
stop talking because I’ve got children working for me at home.
Is it my fault if they employ foreigners as underage slaves?
Anyway I think I might be going deaf when I recover from all my ailments I have to go to the doctor and say
I can’t hear you
And she will shout
What?
Modern slavery in Britain a serious things l
By the way there are people here we brought from Africa tempted by the offer of money and they are working as carers being paid the minimum wage and their own money to the company that brought them over claiming they needed it for their visas.
It’s a form of modern slavery in my opinion and it’s disgusting I have met some of them and they are lovely people some are qualified teachers and other professionals
The poverty in their home country is great and the life expectation is not very long but this is no reason to exploit them.
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How my heart sings 