Author: Katherine
Poetry writer and author
Stan is down on his uppers
Source: Katherineb
Source: Katherine
Stan was down on his hands and knees washing and scrubbing at the carpet with a new microfibre cloth and some shampoo for dry hair.He had a bucket of hot water beside him.Happy, as always, when cleaning and scrubbing he whistled “The lark ascending” for his cat Emile, whilst sipping at a big mug of lager.
Mary was down in the town buying some new earrings to match her red dress from Phase 8 Sale.Their granddaughter Flora had also gone to town but she wanted a nose ring not an earring.As she was a girl it was mandatory in the UK.Suddenly,quite out of the blue,the doorbell rang.They always do don’t they.It was their Muslim neighbour Bert.”We’re going away in the caravan.”He boasted gruffly.”Anyroad,the cat ,Nelsonia Mandelinaah, doesn’t want to come.Would you be able enough to feed her over the weekend without any politically correct remarks being issued ,as it were?”
” Certainly” Stan responded jovially.”When are you off?”
“Well we went last week but we need a weekend in bed to recover from seeing Brent Cross Shopping Centre in Kettlewell right next to the old Post Office.[Kettlewell,Yorkshire’s idyllic village]
“Very strange”Stan said,”Mary was in it only yesterday ,she claims,in Knittingham spending all our minute joint pension on new dresses and shoes.”
“I encounter women who have seen Brent Cross down the road all the time all over Britain.Still they’re entitled to believe what they want!” “But what will the consequences be?”Is there a flying Brent Cross?”
“That sounds rather religious,” Bert answered quickly
,”Is it an augury?”
“I’d say it’s an omen,myself”
“But of what?”
“The times we live in?
“But what’s going to happen?” “God knows.” “Well,does he though?”Stan’s hot water had gone cold.In fact it was frozen.”The laws of physics seem very mutable” Stan wrote in his journal,”Also my spelling has deteriorated badly ssince I began drinking laaaaaaaaaaaager.Would whiskey be better?”Meanwhile,he had cleaned only one third of the carpet.
He filled the bath with hot soapy water,stepped in fully clothed and then rolled himself around all over the carpet to pick up all the fluff.
Mary was down in the town buying some new earrings to match her red dress from Phase 8 Sale.Their granddaughter Flora had also gone to town but she wanted a nose ring not an earring.As she was a girl it was mandatory in the UK.Suddenly,quite out of the blue,the doorbell rang.They always do don’t they.It was their Muslim neighbour Bert.”We’re going away in the caravan.”He boasted gruffly.”Anyroad,the cat ,Nelsonia Mandelinaah, doesn’t want to come.Would you be able enough to feed her over the weekend without any politically correct remarks being issued ,as it were?”
” Certainly” Stan responded jovially.”When are you off?”
“Well we went last week but we need a weekend in bed to recover from seeing Brent Cross Shopping Centre in Kettlewell right next to the old Post Office.[Kettlewell,Yorkshire’s idyllic village]
“Very strange”Stan said,”Mary was in it only yesterday ,she claims,in Knittingham spending all our minute joint pension on new dresses and shoes.”
“I encounter women who have seen Brent Cross down the road all the time all over Britain.Still they’re entitled to believe what they want!” “But what will the consequences be?”Is there a flying Brent Cross?”
“That sounds rather religious,” Bert answered quickly
,”Is it an augury?”
“I’d say it’s an omen,myself”
“But of what?”
“The times we live in?
“But what’s going to happen?” “God knows.” “Well,does he though?”Stan’s hot water had gone cold.In fact it was frozen.”The laws of physics seem very mutable” Stan wrote in his journal,”Also my spelling has deteriorated badly ssince I began drinking laaaaaaaaaaaager.Would whiskey be better?”Meanwhile,he had cleaned only one third of the carpet.
He filled the bath with hot soapy water,stepped in fully clothed and then rolled himself around all over the carpet to pick up all the fluff.
When Mary came in she was amazed,”What’s going on?”
“You look as if you’ve been having an orgy on the floor!”
An orgy was something unknown to Stan as yet.”Would you like one?” he murmured.”Yes,”said Mary childishly “Age has not beaten me yet!””Better have it soon before my knees get too bad!”So now Stan is cleaning the carpet again.It’s very soft and thick,just perfect!The list of invitees is posted on his blog.
Well,he’s been told to do something new every week.An orgy this week,the marathon later!
But why is Mary ringing 999?
Does she want to invite Dave,the paramedic or is it more sinister than I can tell you? “Yes,indeed,she wants to invite Alistair Campbell and Tony Blair but she’s not telling Stan!.He’ll be furious.In fact he might kill someone but no,even these people have the right to life.And they did some good in Northern Ireland.But would you want them at an orgy?””Me neither!”
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The colander
Mary came home to find Stan crying in his old chair
What’s the matter,baby, she asked gently?
I feel so stupid, he told her.I was in the kitchen getting a drink but the running water made my bladder want to empty
Well, we do have a loo in the hall
I forgot that so I picked up an old pan and used that
That’s ok,dearest, she whispered
Then I realised, it was a colander!
I am sorry,Mary,
Well, it’s nothing.Women are used to things like this.
Hi said Annie as she ran in with her pink cheeks glowing
I have got a steam mop today and I’ve just cleaned your kitchen floor.I’d done mine earlier
That is very kind of you.We had a bit of a problem in there
Yes, the tomcat up the road seemed to have left his mark but it’s ok now
She smiled at Stan. who still looked nervous.
I’ll buy you a steam mop for Xmas.I think of it as a toy and I am killing Roman soldiers with the steam or I have other little fantasies
So do I,Stan muttered
Why don’t we have a cup of tea?
Mary carried the tea in on a wooden tray
Mary, that’s my desk drawer.
Don’t tell me you were going to wee into this
No, I brought it down to shake the dust out before I put my pens and paper back
Well, remember, chamber pots are never made of wood.
Wow. how amazing Why not ?
Because it is porous so stuff soaks into the very wood itself
Annie said, why do you need one when you have an ensuite plus a loo in the hall
Maybe it is my second childhood,Stan joked merrily
Emile strolled in
Smokey and I have been in the woods.The kitchen seems very clean
I’ve been trying my steam mop on it,Annie reported
Very nice, said Emile,I’d like a small one
Cats don’t mop floors, mewed Smokey
Maybe we will be the first
Just to make sure Dad is well I’d better ring 999
Stan is not your Dad and he does not want to see anyone
Why not?
He wet the floor
Humans suffer so.We mate with all and sundry, wet the ground and eat the meat
when you forget to freeze it
Well, never mind.We do have a bit of fun
Have more,Emile mewed
And so say all of us
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Be willing
have edited this but have left the original poem underneath as it is popular and I don’t want to remove it if some people prefer it that way.
The journey to the heart is graced by love.
And those who need to seek obey their call.
Though virtue and her graces smile above,
We see steep paths ahead;cliffs’ sudden fall.
With willingness to cross fields deep in mud,
To struggle through the tangled thorny wood.
Our soul within points to the latent good;
Recalls old trees astonished into bud.
As flowers spring up to tantalize our toes
Encouragement is with much joy received;
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our souls were not deceived.
For Virgil,fortune favours steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet.
Old version
The pathways to the heart are blessed by love.
And those who truly seek will never lose.
As virtue and her graces smile above
We see the hills ahead,the rocky views.
With willingness to cross the seas of mud,
To venture via tangled briar-filled woods.
Our soul within shows us the highest good,
When trees that looked quite dead are now in bud.
With flowers springing up between our toes
Encouragement is ,with relief ,received
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our hearts were not deceived.
For Virgil, fortune favours those with steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet
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He didn’t recognise the bird
I can’t work.I’ve dislocated my retina.
I have dyed my pupil red.
I’ve fallen again.
They say I have smoked my ribs.
They cannot put me in plaster as I will not be able to conceive.
I have twisted my wrist and ruin the Royal Navy
I cracked a bird in my foot. The consultant he’s never seen it before. Well it will be impossible for him to know every bird in North London.
After I cracked the bone, pain made me sing. You should have heard my crimes.
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The other mind
Rhythmic poetry echoes our own rhythms
The way the heart beats and the flow of blood.
Music is biology at play
The joy of being alive is well and good
There no need for willpower and its strains
Does the River have to push itself?
Does the tide need training who could tell?
Imitating these is poetry’s stealth.
Overwork is easy but it’s wrong.
Distracts us from the pain of life and death
Both can come together in a song
Let your mind be vacant till you find
The evidence there is another mind
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Social connections and ticket offices
The red maple tree
I lie back in the weather-proofed green chair
To gaze up at the flowering maple tree.
I, touched by sun,lungs full of scented air
Embrace with joy such beauty around me
Old celandine show brightly by my feet
Neglected currant bushes straggle round the path
There is no birdsong yet a silence sweet
Soothes my heart and quietens my wrath.
For my heart’s sore and anguished is my mind
Yet in this little wood I feel deep calm.
My eyes are shadowed and my face is lined.
May this green spring bring me a gentle balm.
For even in depression and deep grief,
The mind makes healing medicine of a leaf
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Care homes in England using ‘revenge evictions’ to stifle complaints from residents
The green, the dark, the bold
Life,the green of earth calls to my soul
I cannot rest indóors when new life calls
In wintertime, the darkness falls, enfolds
Life, the seeds of earth call to my soul
In spring the green, in Fall the warm and gold
Burst the seeds with heat, let love be told
As the greedy roots with speed enthrall.
Life and death, the summer winter cold
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Why are we so deferential?
We must be less deferential to doctors and nurses and anybody with a small manager role like a community matron who think they can tell other people what to do which without having listened to them or empathise with them
Perhaps we have the unconscious fantasy that people go into medicine whether his doctor or nurses or carers as radiographers etc because they love their fellow human beings and most especially babies or young children we imagine full of loving kindness We’re all human and no one can live up to our ideals of perfection.
How many people can resist the wonderful exteriences of putting down others all people the ones who can be attacked most safely are the old or disabled ; for some nurses it’s babies they like to kill or injure as we are seeing with recent trials in Britain. we are too idealistic about human motives.and when we look at our own lives it’s easy to find we ourselves are guilty of this. Let’s think about it. is it trivial or is it more serious and if it is are we afraid to tell anybody?
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Normal marital hatred is real. Here’s what to do about it. – The Washington Post
https://www.washingtonpost.com/wellness/2022/09/23/marriage-relationships-conflict/
D
Normal marital hatred is real. Here’s what to do about it.
No relationship is perfect. Try to start thinking of yours as an ecosystem that you share with someone else.
By September 23, 2022 at 7:00 a.m. EDT
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Do you know what “normal marital hatred” is? If you’ve been married or in a long-term relationship, then you probably do.
“I’ve been talking about this around the country for decades,” said Terrence Real, a best-selling author and family therapist who offers couples workshops. “Not one person has ever come backstage and said, ‘What do you mean by that?’ Everybody knows what it is.”
Get the full experience.Choose your plan
Even so, the idea that hating your romantic partner is “normal” may come as a bit of a shock to those who have idealized romantic relationships. One conversation with Real, and you will be cured of any notion that real life looks like a rom-com.
“No one acknowledges the underbelly of relationships,” said Real, author of “Us: Getting Past You & Me to Build a More Loving Relationship.” “Nobody acknowledges the darkness.”
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Relationship experts have tried for years to unlock the mystery of how couples resolve conflict and learn to stay together. John Gottman, a University of Washington marriage researcher, pioneered the study of relationships by recording couples during conflict and monitoring positive and negative words, facial expressions and body language. He calculated that strong relationships have a 5-to-1 ratio of positive to negative interactions.
Another researcher, retired University of Virginia professor E. Mavis Hetherington, studied 1,400 heterosexual couples over three decades and found a type of marriage most prone to divorce. She called it the pursuer-distancer marriage, in which one person typically presses to solve problems, but the other dismisses the concerns.
Real said he thinks the real problem is that many couples turn conflict into a power struggle, and nobody wins. “In normal circumstances, if you’re unhappy with me, that is not the time for me to talk to you about how unhappy I am with you,” he said. “Everybody gets that wrong.”
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So here’s what you should know about normal marital hatred, and what you can do about it.
Normal marital hatred is real. Here’s what to do about it.
No relationship is perfect. Try to start thinking of yours as an ecosystem that you share with someone else.
September 23, 2022 at 7:00 a.m. EDT
Listen
Comment
Gift
Share
Do you know what “normal marital hatred” is? If you’ve been married or in a long-term relationship, then you probably do.
“I’ve been talking about this around the country for decades,” said Terrence Real, a best-selling author and family therapist who offers couples workshops. “Not one person has ever come backstage and said, ‘What do you mean by that?’ Everybody knows what it is.”
Get the full experience.Choose your plan
Even so, the idea that hating your romantic partner is “normal” may come as a bit of a shock to those who have idealized romantic relationships. One conversation with Real, and you will be cured of any notion that real life looks like a rom-com.
“No one acknowledges the underbelly of relationships,” said Real, author of “Us: Getting Past You & Me
Story continues below advertisement
Another researcher, retired University of Virginia professor E. Mavis Hetherington, studied 1,400 heterosexual couples over three decades and found a type of marriage most prone to divorce. She called it the pursuer-distancer marriage, in which one person typically presses to solve problems, but the other dismisses the concerns.
Real said he thinks the real problem is that many couples turn conflict into a power struggle, and nobody wins. “In normal circumstances, if you’re unhappy with me, that is not the time for me to talk to you about how unhappy I am with you,” he said. “Everybody gets that wrong.”
Story continues below advertisement
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So here’s what you should know about normal marital hatred, and what you can do about it.
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We are conversations
I heard your voice outside the glass front door
I felt no shock nor worry nor surprise.
But there a man, whose image is a blur,
Handed me a box with friendly cry.
What part of me still waits for your return?
Why don’t I know you’re gone and shan’t come home?
What knowledge must my puzzled heart still learn?
Why do I get an urge to search and roam?
If we are conversations ,as I read,
Then our exchange has ended with your death;
And so I am not she with whom you laid.
Nor she with whom you shared a common breath.
When deprived of hearing your response.
I am no longer she whom I was once.
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Limestone at Hutton Roof
I wish I were on Hutton Roof again
The limestone and the little open flowers
The sea at Arnside like a distant gem
The spaciousness, like days with far more hours
I wish I were as agile now as then
I’d climb the mountains, hills,the little lanes
Windermere below still winding on
The handsome Lake the old man, Coniston
I wish I were in Dent, the curious shapes
The hills and their deep mystery engross
The height, the little river, the mistakes
The lost loved man alive, to hold me closeI
I yearn to be on Hutton Roof today
The holy smell of grass, the feel of air
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Rubber sheets and geometry
←
I wonder who thinks calculus is part of geomorphology?
Topology, a branch of mathematics, is sometimes called rubber sheet geometry.
It’s a sad world when mathematicians have to study the sheets of those of us who have leaky bladders.
However, if Tracy Emin’s bed is a work of art it extends the possibilities for scientists and mathematicians.And this needed because with all academics having to publish very frequently they might run out of topics.
So we might have a study of duvets and the different shapes they might assume when they are covering just one person, two people, three people and since we are mathematicians, we could study their shapes when covering an infinite number of people.
Alternatively how about the effect of one person being covered by an infinite number of duvets?
Would it be aleph-null the infinity of the rational numbers or aleph 0ne [the infinity of the real numbers]?
Aleph one is the bigger of the two .
Aleph is the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet… and it is used because mathematicians already have used up the Greek alphabet.
So now we use the Hebrew one which is slightly different.
If you learned calculus you will recall all those delta x’s and delta y’s.
This makes me think calculus is part of geomorphology and I do believe that geomorphology which studies the surface of the earth is linked to the love and study of the mother’s face and body by human infants.
So calculus is linked to the studied love of babies.Can it be that if you had a disturbed infancy you will find mathematics very hard? Plastic geometry and plastic surgery will be dealt with later but obviously again it is linked to love or hate of the body though our bodies are not usually made from plastic but who knows the future?
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No river flows
I wish we were on Easby Moor again
Or looking down the hill of hasty bank
The feel of scented flowers where we had lain
We closed our eyes and into bliss we sank
I wish we were near Saltburn on the sands.
I wish we were near Redcar on the coast.
The butterflies, the seagulls and the Band
Your mother liked the sea and sand the most.
Your father likedthe hills and heather moors.
You were torn between them, now you’re gone
Your mother bough some honey for her store
Breathing northern air my loving one
When we got to Stamford you were low
Suburban London where no waters flow
I wish we were in Cleveland on the hills
We have to work in London for the bills.
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A prenatal test for autism would deprive the world of future geniuses
What a brain wave
It might not be dementia it may be a shortage of vitamin b12
Why why Why?
Why did Jesus cross the street?
Because it was wrong.
Do you have a hotline to God?
What would Jesus think of the Guardian newspaper?
I don’t know but when I was 10 I was reading the Guardian and then I went into the front room and I said to my mother and her guests
What is rape?
From there onwards we took the Times. Sometimes we read it.
I got an A star in general studies. because generally everything is in the Times
Sometimes I wonder whether I should read the Independent.
I find it very useful when I’m polishing my boots. Or abolishing old fruit
We used to take the Manchester evening news to the chip shop because they didn’t speak English
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Pelican as a Christian Symbol Durham World Heritage Site
What a mistake
Why did Jesus have no shoes?
He had sent his soles to be heeled.
Why did Jesus not wear trousers?
Jewish tailoring had not got that far 2,000 years ago.
Did Jesus drive a car?
Drive a car what?
Did Jesus write letters?
They had no Royal Mail then and soon we shan’t either.
Why did Jesus go to a comprehensive school?
He wanted to widen his appeal.
Did Jesus iron his clothes?
It was before the Iron Age when he lived. (That is not true)
Am I sure I’ll go to heaven?
Stop going to betting shops and wearing red bras and you should be ok
How about this atom bomb here in my pocket?
Please, let it drop,I beg you
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Flights in a dream
Dream
Hollyhocks,delphinium and phlox
Foxgloves,cat mint, nettles,near by docks
The blind man breathed in air full of wild scent
His daughted named the colours now absent
High up on the Kentish cliffs we sat
Capel-le -Ferne I found it on a map
We listened to this girl, we did not speak
Absorbing by our senses,proud and meek
Now I recollect the details very well
In those dream like memories I dwell
Snapdragons growing just beside my chair
I smell the scent as if I were still there
I may be blinded by the tears of loss
But I remember, love, our happiness
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Emile goes to the corner shop
Mary had ordered all of her groceries but she forgot to put tea on the list So she sent Emile to the corner shop with a note tied to his collar
Please give the bearer your best tea.
Emile went off and managed to get into the shop after some children who were getting sweets with their pocket money or debit cards
He went up to the counter and mewed, Mother has sent you a note.
One of the children laughed
Is your mother a girlfriend of Mr. Kumar?
No, she is not, Emile growled with a loud throbbing voice
Mr. Kumar led Emile behind the counter into his living room and spoke to his wife
She asked Emile to sit down as she went into the kitchen and poured him some tea from her China teapot
.Do you want it on a saucer, she enquired thoughtfully?
Yes, please, said Emile. This is very kind.
He leaped onto the rug and began sipping the Ceylon tea. This makes a change, he murmured.
I didn’t know you could just walk in and get free tea!
After a few minutes, the shop door crashed open and he heard Mary’s voice
Oh, Mr. Kumar, I am so stupid. I sent Emile out to buy some Twinings tea and he has not come home! What shall we do? She started crying and dabbing her eyes with Stan’s hanky.
Come through, he whispered politely. Do not weep, dear. All is well
Mary came in and saw Emile drinking his tea and winking at Mrs. Kumar.
Emile, you stupid cat. I was going crazy worrying.I’ll strangle you!
Is it my fault, he replied. I only gave them that note you sent.
But is it not obvious what I intended? she said plaintively
These days you never know, the cat muttered. I try to be obedient as far as I can.
Mrs. Kumar came out and gave Mary a cup of tea.
Sit down, dear. Worry is so bad for you. Why did you not phone us?
Since it was just a packet of tea I thought Emile could carry it. He is very intelligent normally.
Yes, I am, thought Emile as he looked at Maisie, the Kumar’s lovely cat who was asleep on a chair.
I wonder if I can wake her up, he asked himself.
Does she drink tea?
Would she like to start a family? It’s not too late for me to become a parent.
Maisie opened her eyes
What’s that cat doing here?
I only came for the tea, Emile told her. But you look very beautiful. Shall we meet tonight
I’m washing my fur, she told him with a smile
How about tomorrow?
Have you got a phone?
No, he said, I’ll just caterwaul at dusk and if you are free I’ll be under the red maple tree waiting for you
Good grief thought Mary.
This cat is very cunning. Just one chance and he is making the most of it.
Mr. Kumar gave her some tea and she wandered home in a daze after asking them for a drink on Sunday.
My social life is looking up but there’s no-one who will hug me. If only Emile were bigger!
His legs are too short!I should get a donkey instead
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6 Tips to Channel “Nervous Energy” Effectively | Psychology Today
What is this nonsense?
Some people get creative with this signature. A few fun (if not necessarily business appropriate) examples found round the Internet include:
My parents wouldn’t buy me an iPhone so I have to manually type “Sent from my iPhone” to look cool
Sent telepathically
Sent from my laptop, so I have no excuse for typos
Sent from my smartphone so please forgive any dumb mistakes
I am responsible for the concept of this message. Unfortunately, autocorrect is responsible for the content
Sent from my mobile. Fingers big. Keyboard small.
iPhone. iTypos. iApologize.
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Why I thought about gnats
Thinking about gnats flying/dancing haphazardly over a pond, I realised that a lot of our thoughts are very shallow and not very important. But sometimes we can get obsessed with them when what really matters are the much deeper thoughts and images in our minds as the big fish in the bottom of the pond are the ones that the angler wants
So anyone creative is probably aware that you have to listen with a special set of mind to be receptive to these thoughts in a similar way to an angular sitting on the bank of a river or a pond waiting patiently for hours the tempt the fish to take the bait.
Maybe we don’t have the patience. But do we want to remain on the surface of life never having any deep feelings? I don’t think most of us want to live like that I may be wrong but at least we have the choice sometimes.
When you are writing a poem the space between the lines can be as important as the lines themselves.
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NYTimes: The Pain of Losing a Spouse Is Singular
The Pain of Losing a Spouse Is Singular https://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/06/health/06cases.html?smid=nytcore-android-share
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NYTimes: Stress May Be Your Heart’s Worst Enemy
Stress May Be Your Heart’s Worst Enemy https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/03/well/mind/stress-heart.html?smid=nytcore-android-share
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Gnats on a pond
Distracting thoughts harass my heart and mind.
Like gnats that dance on ponds in bright sunshine
In the deeper waters there are fish.
How to tempt them to my little dish?
The gossips have no wisdom, they are fools.
Idle thoughts are idle, they misrule
Do not converse with your own idle thoughts
Wait in peace for wisdom has a heart
Gossip has a function in a street.
Gives us bored old folk sweet meats.
Do not introduce your careless hate.
As ,hidden in the Shadows, Satan waits
Quietly drowning in the rivers deep
The inner guide will help you dream to sleep.
How my heart speaks 