I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time
You did not converse with me in words
You were simply present with your Light
Nowhere did I feel your power and might
You were no eagle, but a little bird I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time.
Who made our language with its subtle rhymes?
The ancient people had their well trained Scribes You were always there,oh gentle Light
You gave me warmth, you changed my too fixed sight
A comforter , a Spirit, how describe? I ‘ll try to get it right a final time.
The agony inside me lost its bite
I wanted to go on, to be alive You do not always show your golden Light
We do not know when we at last arrive
We do not reach this meeting place by strife I ‘ve tried to get it right this final time I never saw such Gold until that night
Like children’s gleaming tears in a bright sun
That can be dried respectful of the source
The points of light on holly leaves each shone
The pink horse chesnuts’ flowering has begun
May flows on to June as rivers course As children’s gleaming tears drop in the sun
Nothing human should be broken,shunned
Yet evil screams till its sharp voice is hoarse The points of light on holly leaves still shine
When we learn of genocide , it stuns
I was unborn, did not know of such force As children’s greying tears dropped under sun
Each child is God, yet such vile acts are done
Anne Frank ‘s haunting memories now cursed The points of light on holly leaves will wane
Where did our evil start,what makes it worse?
Unheld and hungry baby needing breast? Like children’s golden tears in a black sun The points of shame, the prickling leaves may win
Memory loss can be reversed by increasing intake of foods such as green tea, apples and berries, new research suggests.
The study is the first to show that a diet with insufficient flavanols – nutrients found in certain fruits and vegetables – stops the brain functioning at its best, and drives memory loss.
I have been writing poetry which obviously uses metaphors. I notice a lot of metaphors are based on terms used in art especially drawing. Ultimately most metaphors must be boast on something concret in the real world. There are probably a lot of metaphor based on growing things in your garden. Based on our existence as objects in the real world and our bodies therefore and our minds
Don’t run before you can walk. Mathematics is studied from very simple levels to The heights of abstractions so don’t try to learn calculus before you have mustard arithmetics
In that sentence master is a metaphor we don’t literally master arithmetic but we could master a wild horse or another person. There’s no way else for metaphor to come from than the world of our senses. And that will vary somewhat for everybody especially in different countries different places different work situations personal relationships etc
Willpower is often lacking but we can take a horse to the water but we can’t make it drink
I’m going to solve this problem if it’s the last thing I do.
That feels stupid because if you die after you solve the problem you won’t know that is is solved will you?
Sometimes it’s good to widen your view. Tunnel vision limits you.
Focusing on a very small part of the outside world is necessary at times but it can also be dangerous when you look down your footpath and it looks clear but if you had a broader view you might see there is a lion in the field next to your house
If you are looking at anything you will see it differently if you
Take a step back.
Get things in perspective
See things rom a different angle
And turn things over in your mind.
So I am going to write about this eventually because I think it’s very interesting.
In 1993, I took a left turn one day out of my MFA program and found myself at the National Poetry Slam in San Francisco. There I discovered several poets who were funny for the sake of being funny. Particularly Hal Sirowitz from New York (“don’t stick your arm out the window, mother said” and Matt Cook from Milwaukee (“it was easy to write the Great American Novel, back when there were only five American novels”) Both poets initially delighted me and confounded me: There are no similes, a voice in my head said. What would Tom Lux (my first teacher) say? the voice continued. Despite my resistance, I believe those poets gave me a kind of permission to explore humor a little more vigorously in my second book, The Forgiveness Parade (1998), for “I thought the word loin and the word lion were the same thing. I thought celibate was a kind of fish”. Perhaps in that book there were places where I was too vigorous in my pursuit: looking back there are a few poems that are just a little too jokey somehow, a little one-dimensional.
I am becoming aware of how some humor can set a roadblock for the poetic speaker, making it impossible for the speaker to get back to a serious place. And how some other (less frequent) uses of humor can leave that door open. I want to leave that door open
Mary was in the hall watering her rose scented geranium; she decided to move it into the kitchen as the hall might be a little too drafty.Mary was very anxious to make sure that this plant survived because it was a present from her cousin.
Suddenly the phone rang. perhaps it is Annie wanting to go out on some Christmas shopping expedition ,but no it was Mary’s cousin Bob who she knew had been very ill and although he seems to be recovering she knew he was quite anxious about dying His voice was very faint and weak. Perhaps he is going to die, she thought. he does seemed to be frightened .
Do not be afraid.God is waiting for you and he knows everything ,He knows how you looked after your sister when she had a breakdown and how you used to change the curtains and make the room look beautiful to try to help her and yet she did not thank you .She was very unpleasant but you never gave up ; eventually when she died during her sleep it was both a relief and a loss God remembers everything and he is full of love for you . I do not know why God allows some people to suffer so much[ which is a constant theme in human thinking since the book of Job was written.]
Now, I don’t say that you are Job ,but I do know what you have endured. I have seen you being humbled in cruel ways, I have seen you being ignored when you knew much more than the people who were talking You cared your your cat with utmost kindness until it recovered from its ill-treatment at those nasty neighbours of yours. You have suffered too through cancer and not being able to eat foods that you liked but you have recovered. You have worked in your garden and grown beautiful flowers and vegetables Your fruit trees have been v productive and your whole garden is a testament to the fact that you love every living being, except your brother David, of course.,
There’s always trouble in that kind of set up when the mother prefers one child to another and it has been a constant torment to you throughout your life. I have noticed since you have both been older. you seem to have a more productive life now and I know you make wine and jam and mend all you can
I know that you did win an award when you were in your 20s for your research although you never told anybody. I wonder why you were so shy about telling people. You never did like to boast and I think I am similar to you. I let Stan have his mistress next door because I know that not every man is interested in Wittgenstein especially when it’s his wife who wants to talk about him when he wants to take her to bed and enjoy her charms, tickle her and laugh merrily and I only wish that you had been able to meet someone yourself who would have valued you as a human being and felt warmth and attraction as well. I do think you tried to make the most of your capabilities limited as we are by economic,health and political factors alas Bob said to Mary :you have made me very happy 2 Days Later Mary heard that Bob was much better and the doctor says he will soon be home again What a disappointment for God meowed Emile, Mary’s little cat. God got everything ready Well no doubt God had some help,. Mary cried., that’s what I need . need some help ;this house is in a terrible mess as if my fate is to constantly keep trying to tidy up and yet the next day I have to start all over again. I don’t mind cried Emile I think it’s wonderful I like a mess it makes me feel like playing more and having fun but when it’s all tidy and clean I feel terribly inhibited Good grief Emile, you sound as if you’ve been to Oxford. I did once to go on a day trip to Oxford, the the cat confessed .Annie took me in her handbag on a coach Well all I can say is ,she must have got a very big handbag Don’t be so rude Emile told her, you have got some big handbags and you’ve got about 50 handbags in the wardrobe even now when you are a widow That is a woman’s privilege Mary told him like getting a new hat is Easter; a handbag is a very important thing because it enables men to make their wives carry all their wallets and keys so that they could have fun when they went to the seaside Yes I can remember mother struggling along from Blackpool North station to the beach with a gigantic handbag and a shopping bag full of sandwiches while everybody else ran on in front of her I don’t know what we saw in Blackpool except the sea; the beach was so crowded you could hardly see the sand. I guess the airwas cleaner, the cat informed her in a manly way
I think I need a cup of tea said Mary go and get Annie. She won’t make the tea No but she can drink some with me while I tell her all my thoughts and my feelings and I couldn’t free associate while she showed off her new makeup and jewellery and her strangely coloured Christmas outfits.She is off to Wigan to visit the make up factory next week.If only it were in Southport I’d go too. Well I’m in love with Annie. I wish I was a man so I could marry her and make it home for her I’m sure you would have made a very good husband said Mary but God wants you to be a cat although you are a rather extraordinary cat and it is my good luck to be your owner or shall I say your mistress? Aand so ask all of us
There’s something else that I find unusual in her writing, when I compare it to other psychoanalysts – there’s this idea almost that the unconscious can be something that’s helpful and that can be relied upon and trusted. Which again seems unusual to me, because I’m so used to this idea of unconscious that wrecks your plan or gets in the way.
AP:Well its very Jungian. I don’t mean she got it from Jung. But she did believe in a sort of creative unconscious, and an unconscious that was like a good mother
A Life offers unprecedentedly direct access to the mind and feelings of an early 20th-century educated working woman. Marion Blackett was 26 when she began the research for the book, in 1926, and 34 when she published it, under the pseudonym Joanna Field. She had completed a degree in psychology and physiology, in 1923, and soon after started working for the National Institute of Industrial Psychology, headed by Charles Samuel Myers, collecting data from various factories and industrial workplaces across England. The winter of 1927–28 was spent in the United States on a Rockefeller scholarship, attending Elton Mayo’s seminars at Harvard Business School.
She had married Dennis Milner just before leaving for the States; their son, John, was born in 1932. Dennis’s chronic illness meant that Marion had to return immediately to work: she taught psychology to the Workers’ Educational Association in the East End of London, and also undertook research for the Girls’ Public Day School Trust (published in 1938 as The Human Problem in Schools). She would eventually begin training with the British psychoanalysis group
‘No Man is an Island’ No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any Manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
Olde English Version No man is an Iland, intire of itselfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Manor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.
MEDITATION XVII Devotions upon Emergent Occasions John Donne
Mary dreamed she was riding her bicycle.She was going up a hill and then approaching a very complicated roundabout. How can I look at the map when I am riding my bike,she asked herself.Anyway I don’t have a map and I’ve never been here before.She looked down and saw she was wearing some dark blue denim culottes and red suede knee high boots with laces. I don’t remember buying these,she thought.She felt quite hot even though she wore only an olive needle-cord coat over a Breton T shirt. Goodness me, she cried.I look smart. Her spectacles clouded over as she was sweating.How will I know where to turn off when I don’t know where I am or where I am going to. When she woke up she filled Stan’s beer tankard with tea. What a lot of tea,miaowed Emile. I thought it saves carrying the tea pot. I’m going to go back to bed as I feel a bit peculiar. You have got a fleece nightgown on.Maybe you are too hot,he replied. I am trying to save money on the heating,Mary answered.I see I can save even more money by buying 2 pairs of Hotters sandals for £97.Usually they are £127. That saves £30,the clever animal informed her. I think it’s quite misleading,Mary answered.It only saves money if you were already planning to buy them.I have such strange feet I don’t like to bare them. Do you wear shoes in bed with a boyfriend.Emile asked. I’ve not got a boyfriend.Emile/ But if you did? Well.you know, an older man might not wish to go to bed with me.He might like just sitting holding my hand and kissing me. OK said ,Emile.It sounds a trifle boring to me. Don’t be so cheeky, Emile.Talking to me is not boring. No, he said, but it’s nice running up and down your legs in bed. I could hardly expect a man to do that.He might injure me. It was just a kind of example,he replied nervously.
Suddenly the back door opened and in ran Annie from next door.She was wearing a mustard coloured track suit and orange trainers with matching lip gloss. What a horrible colour,Mary cried. It’s the in colour now,Annie said kindly.I am getting my hair dyed too. Bright yellow is better,Mary told her.Except it attracts insects. Insects,I don’t want those.How are you,dear.You look flushed, she responded emotionally. No wonder. I’ve been cycling all night in my dreams.Why can’t I dream of motor bikes? Don’t ask me,Annie told her.I am utterly ignorant.Do you need therapy? I don’t think so,Mary answered.I need to know where I am going.Do I decide or is it my Inner Wisdom or Higher Power.I could use higher power on that bike. Just take it one rotation at a time, Annie murmured. I thought it was one step.Mary answered You can’t take a step on a bike. I suppose not.But I could ride up a step on the bike. Don’t ride up a step ladder,Anne advised.How would you get down again? Let’s have some coffee,Mary cried.Here we are ,the kettle is boiling. Let’s just sit and brood. But don’t ruminate,purred Emile.It makes you ill. Just let your mind go blank. And so I did.
Oh,Mary is in horrid pain It’s her sciatica again. No pills can cure but nettles might She will roll in them tonight Emile is aware of this He gives her a loving kiss
Emile, I’ve told you it’s not done To kiss your mother though in fun What would Stan think,were he here Drinking from a can of beer? What would Annie think of this? Go, give her a big wet kiss
Oh,mother I might bite her lip As my teeth are made to nip Take my emery board and smooth Your pointed teeth and any grooves Can I use Stan’s old toothbrush No, I’ve put it in the Wash
Maybe seals will use it there Send them combs and do not swear I did not mean to curse again My back is aching,I’ve no pluck Mother, dearest, don’t say feck
Well, that’s Irish, it’s ok The Catholics wlil offer prayers I pray too for all my friends Those bereaved or round the bend Do you mean those who see ghosts ? Maybe it’s the heavenly Host
As long as you look clean and neat Noone will see your hooves or feet Noone will know you see and hear Emissaries from other spheres. Don’t meet eyes nor stare at men And always write with a good pen
You may be in another realm Dave can see you’r overwhelmed He will pat your head this day For this he gets his kicks and pay When you feel yourself again See it you can spot old Stan
Where is Annie,Mary’s friend? Where the Spirit which descends Where are our neighbours whom we love? Singing with the turtle dove All the Saints will chant along As Jesus sings his ancient songs
Spirits rise and Love is here Drinking in the atmosphere
Hallowe’en Stan was feeling sad because the clocks had turned back so it was dark at 4pm.His wife Mary was out on her old Raleigh with battery lit lights front and rear….though not quite on her ass.Stan is very vulgar sometimes as it cheers him up.When Mary gets home he did say to her once,You need a light on your ass .Mary,like the Queen,was not amused. Emile Stan’s cat suggested they go for a walk before sunset and so off they went.Stan wore an old green overcoat and a flat cap.Emile was running ahead as he was so excited.Some times he sat on the sturdy old man’s shoulder on a cat pad.[On sale everywhere for two pounds ten and sixpence.]Stan felt his spirits rise as he walked as the sky was so beautiful striped in blue and peach just like it had been in the Holy Land when he went on a Pilgrimage with other old Catholics from Knittingham Cathedral How lovely it would be to walk in the wood and feel crunchy leaves under his boots.[From Hotters of Whelmersdale,Lancs] And Emile liked to bury himself in the leaves and leap put as Stan went by.But as they approached the wood a strange sight met their eyes,,, all four! The trees were full but not with birds.They were full of cats.Big cats,fat cats,thin cats,pedigree cats,mixed race cats,cats of all colors and sizes.You can imagine the effect of having a hundred or more cats’ eyes staring yellowly at you in synchronized glares.Why,it was almost enough to send Stan running home for some brandy
Emile went nearer.He spoke to a big black cat
What’s going on?,he mewed.You are in my territory,
The black cat looked at him with his big green eyes.
We are witches‘ cats.We have come from all over Great Britain,excluding Northern Ireland as cats are not allowed on the boats now. no ratsl eft]..Tomorrow is All Hallows Eve and we are accompanying our multi-ethnic multicolored witches on a grand flight over Knittingham…tonight we are having,The Big Sing… at midnight precisely. Did you remember to change the time on your smartphone,asked Emile.All the cats began to giggle and laugh. We don’t need phones or clocks.We go by the stars and the moon…though doubtless the witches have watches. Do witches have watches?,Emile asked Stan,after telling him why the cats were there. Old witches have watches,Stan murmured,mesmerised by the vision of the cats swaying in the gale force winds.Thank God cats have fur,he thought lovingly. Can we have a walk here,?he asked testily. Well,Sir,do you recall a song from your childhood,If you go down to the woods today,you ’re sure of a big surprise.At your age,is your heart soft enough to stretch when you see five thousand cats… I am sure I shall be ok as long as the Good Lord does not come here to feed them with five loaves and two fishes All the cats laughed again.Stan was puzzled how they managed to stay in the trees with wind and giggles and a few scrapping and fighting as tom cats so when lady cats are near. We are already full of fish supplied by all the local pet shops,markets and goldfish bowls! How disgraceful, thought Stan,to eat pet goldfish.but owing to the number of crazy cats he decided to keep quiet…As he got nearer he saw a few cats smoking pipes..Well,I never knew cats smoked,he said to Emile .Maybe it’s magic mushrooms or coyote,the cat said cheekily Do you mean peyote?,Stan said querulously.Coyote are animals.. Ah,well.you get my drift,Emile replied cheekily What was most strange was why this big meeting was taking place in Knttingham Then he remembered it was the cent of the UK…that must be it.Most intriguing to see all these cats.A few even had tartan ribbons on as they were from Scotland.But how did they travel so far.No doubt it was all arranged by the Chief Wizard. Somehow Stan and Emile felt self conscious as the cats were almost glaring at them,reminding Stan of an occasion when he and his wife had wandered by accident onto a remote beach for gay nude men.The looks they gave the old folk were far from gay;So he and Emile turned round and headed for home… at least they were forewarned of the midnight concert they and Mary would hear.Stan made some tea with twice as many tea bags as usual. as he was concerned he might get PTSD or worse,maybe kittzophrenia.This poor man was blessed with a vivid imagination. When Mary came in from the University he called out, We have had the most amazing day,Mary….But Mary was wearing a pointed black hat and cloak…. and a big smile. I know what you mean,Stan….I am just off to take a peek myself.She picked up her broomstick and rode away into the darkening sky.~to think one could be both a witch and a mathematician,,though numbers have a certain magic of their own as we all know
You’re my lodestar,you’re my light. In the forests of the night. You keep me on the path I follow I know you’ll still be here tomorrow. You’re my lodestar,you’re my light When the darkness takes my sight
You’re my companion, another self. You have knowledge, spiritual wealth. You have wondered,you have thought, In meditation your soul was wrought.
You are there when I’m in need. You don’t allow my fears to breed. Your sweet touch brings me such peace My angst and torment both will cease.