The widespread scattering of the Jewish genes Caused by pogroms cruel and holocaust A Russian mother, Father, German seems Now all of them, have turned to earth and dust.
Then the city French called Montreal Safe home to refugees of every sort Here Leonard found his path, he heard the call And learned to bear the suffering of the heart.
Where some men leave this world by their own choice, The isolating loneliness, the fear Instead, he struggled, strained, gave us his voice Even after death, we feel him near.
A man descended from Aaron, the priest, The same people that gave us G-d and Christ
1530s, “fasten or fix forcibly,” from Latin impingere “drive into, strike against,” from assimilated form of in- “into, in, on, upon” (from PIE root *en “in”) + pangere “to fix, fasten” (from PIE root *pag- “to fasten”). Sense of “encroach, infringe” first recorded 1738. Related: Impinged; impinging; impingent.
Sometimes writing makes me breathe differently.
I can feel the silence settle around me,
Like a prayer shawl.
i accept it gratefully.
There’s a thin feeling to the day
As if the sun might have tried harder
to come through
But it had a blue feeling
And the clouds were greedy,
Wanting too much to melt
And shed their moisture.
Some perfume please.I think it was £27.99
Yes,I like that one even more than jasmine oil.
Pour it down over London
Like a blessing.
A black woman laughed and patted my arm,
You’re so funny, she cried.
And I smiled coyly
As if someone hidden was taking my photograph.
Sometimes life’s too sweet
And needs a little pepper.
The chair creaks as I lean forward
Trying to see everything at once
As if it all happened now, not yesterday.
Dwell inside your heart and breathe just so From there your spirit body can outflow Spread this round your loved one like a shawl No need to make a sound for love will call
Two are one like lovers in their bed But now one has to leave, love cuts the thread In full silence welcomed by God’s eye They concentrate on this before they die
In your gracious warmth they’re feeling safe As a child is in a mother’s gaze Time no longer matters. we’re elsewhere Walking humbly ,softly through God’s stare
At last the work is done and they are free Who can understand such mystery?
LAs Mary ate her Weetabix, she felt a pain in her left leg rather like a toothache gone astray Emile, what are you doing? Emile crawled out looking dusty. And he had just had a bath. I was trying to bite the hairs off your leg, he miaowed plaintively There are no hairs on my leg, she whispered. Oh, dear,I must have walked into a cobweb I wish Stan had got a cobweb brush, she muttered tp herself But do we really need a different brush for everything? Soon we will have one for each tooth. That will be expensive She felt in her pocket for her Tablet. She wanted to draw a diagram of her brush cupboard using an Android App. But her pocket was empty The back door opened and in ran Annie wearing a yellow nightdress and matching slippers Hello, she cried. I wanted to catch you before 9 am Why, asked Mary? The postman will be here by then. He has got a parcel for me. But I put your address. What is the point of secrecy when you live alone? You have no man to question your expenses, have you? Nor a woman either Well, Emile might ask me to explain. Just because Emile is male it does not give him the right to tell you what to do All my life I have obeyed men, Annie cried Yes, after you have manipulated, seduced and terrified them That is very cruel. I was only trying to help them. Well, you may have done, but why not help yourself? How can I do that? Tune into your body and see what comes to mind Beetroot, Annie responded. So you must need them, get dressed and we will go to the greengrocers You have got very bossy, said Annie. Did you have a nightmare? It was more like a night-tiger, Mary revealed. Something bit my foot and it hurt Oh, mother , cried Emile, it was me! You, Emile. What made you do that, she said angrily? It was in my way as I crawled under the duvet, the cat whispered. Surely you could have gone further down. I wanted to see what you tasted like! That is evil, not to say perverted, Mary told him. I shall take you for therapy or would Confession be better? Is it a compulsion you cannot help or is it a sin? Annie was silent. She did not like questions nor any kind of prolonged thought Don’t ask me, she finally said. Maybe Emile needs a man in the house. I don’t want any more men, Mary said sadly. They seem to die Well, Stan was 128 years old. Annie informed her.I saw his birth certificate once. Unless it was 12.8 years Don’t be so ridiculous. How could he have been 12.8 years old? It must be a miracle, said Annie. Tell the Pope and he might be declared a saint soon St Stan of Knittingham, Patron Saint of Almost Adolescents. The bell rang. In ran Dave. He was dressed in navy. I am ready to take you to Church, he told the ladies To church? I’d rather go to Wigan Pier Oh, the sea is not there on Sundays! Is it there on the Sabbath, Annie muttered? No, it’s not, Dave said quietly Wow, two more miracles, she said as she fainted into the Pantry How annoying, Mary said. I just classified the jam Well, things could be worse, said Dave. She’s not broken any and cut herself What, she falls and breaks nothing. She must be very light. Yes, she is quite electric, he quipped Whatever next? The marmalade! And so ask all of us
This is disposable income so I imagine it is before tax.
The average worker who does not exist take some 2,750 a month after tax etc. Is this is a family and only one adult is working full time
while one is an at home parent it is not an awful lot of money to live on. Survival needs may not be met for a lot of people who are earning less than this amount.
In the Sunday times today there is an article saying you need to earn at least 200,000 pounds a year before you live in enviable lifestyle.
When we bought our house in the 1970s during our first winter there we couldn’t afford to buy any new shoes.
The average disposable income now or last year was
£32,800 in the UK.
But when they ask for more money like the nurses and the teachers they are told their greedy loisy and hopelessly that it managing money.
And some people living on universal benefits our envious of people living on the state pension that I don’t think they realize that the state pension is linked to your national insurance contributions over a large number of years.
People living on benefits should not blame pensioners for taking all the money.£200 a week is not an awful lot to live on especially for those people paying rent. You might be paying £50 a week for your heating. Perhaps s the government should provide cookery lessons to tell us how to make meals from cheap ingredients like breast of lamb,tripe, lentils, shin of beef, bread.
The average reading age in this country is 9. 4 years. So if that’s a median average 50% of the population of a reading edge of less than 9.4 years and maybe unable to read the government’s recipe book, How to live on the breadline without dying
I’ve got just one letter
written in your hand.
One small letter.
I understand,
One is as infinity
compared to having nought.
I’ll keep this letter
In the museum of my heart.
I’ve only got one photograph
and that is very old
but to me this photograph
is more valuable than gold.
Time has hastened by.
Is it now too late?
But may there be a second chance?
Let’s not accept love’s fate.
No matter how we falter,
No matter how we fail,
We can still forgive ourselves,
and rewrite this sad tale.
One more loving letter,
One more loving smile,
That will be sufficient
To revive a love grown frail.
For once this love was stronger;
Once this love was true;
Accept this invitation
To recreate our love anew
ate her topside with green peas,she gazed out of the front window where a police car was parked.They had gone to speak to her neighbours.Her neighbours had 23 dogs and a dead cat .all in the back garden for recreation and making holes in fences or other places When Mary had come home from the delightful dentist she had been attacked by 5 of the dogs on her own patio who were bored with their own garden so has made a hole in the fence as was their wont. She sat silentky her mind brooding about animals,and their force, as she ate the last roast potato and wondered if she had a pudding Suddenly a cold wind seemed to blow across the room as Annie her delightful neighbour had run in without closing the back door firmly Hello dear.Put the kettle on for me, Mary ordered Annie I am sorry,Annie said,I have lost weight but even so the kettle won’t fit me Why do you take things so literally,Mary asked? I am trying to be funny, Annie muttered indecisively, her blood red lipstick melting down her chin and dripping onto the floor Good grief, what a mess,Mary said.Hang on, your lips are bleeding I keep biting them,Annie revealed. Why? To stop myself screaming at those people with the dogs.What will you do? Her mascara from Mix Vector in dark brown began to melt and created streaks across her rose beige moisturising foundation from Bess of Arden Are you crying,Mary asked curiously I must be.I have tears in my eyes.I am over-identifing with your feelings. Empathy has its limits,Mary said sweetly>I phoned the police and they came here They were amazed he has 23 dogs.They have gone to see him. How can they afford to feed so many dogs? Oh,I feel faint,ring 999 In ran Dave the bisexual, transvestment paramedic all dressed in tartan Why are the police here, he asked anxiously It’s about the dogs attacking Mary. Shall I make some nice strong tea,Dave asked wisely Good idea, said Annie How is Emile taking this? I’ve sent him to my sister’s for a break,But I miss him Goodness me, what a terrible time you are having They all went into the lounge and sat down on the grey high backed armchairs Here is the tea,Dave cried as he put the tray down on a low table.Don’t let it go cold~ Shall I give them some cake, he asked Mary? Why not, she answered.See what you can find It is very hard if neighbours attack you,Why, I’ve even read about murders at times like this,Dave cried. Let’s see how it goes,Mary said quietly.They are not fools I hope you are right,Dave said wisely Rolling Stones never get mopped Evert cloud has a silver lining~ When glum ,keep mum Ah Amen
Where has all my love gone to
All the love I poured on you
Where has all the love gone to
Was it all, was it all wasted?
The actions and the calls of love
Disappear like flying doves
Is there meaning I can’t give
Was it all, was it all wasted?
Pouring fragrance on his feet
Money wasted, it might seem
Signs and symbols darkly gleam
Nothing ever is, nothing ever is wasted
We all live in faith our love
Where it comes from, how it does
We live in faith , like hand in glove
Pour the love and let it rove
Excess and glorious as above
For it’s made to be,made to be wasted
I feel as older people we may be less worried about what others say or think.But the main reason writing poetry could be easier is we have a bigger vocabulary if we have read interesting books and poetry throughout our lives.I do not know before I have written a poem quite what I am going to say.But the structure provides a limiting frame.Then the first sentence determines much of what can follow.But what can follow also depends on what is inside our own head and also on conversations we have had, things we noticed when out for a walk.These may enter us like the air does, without effort or will.So should the poems we read and the novels and the other books we love.Even Euclid might come in handy… a bit of logic does no harm and geometric shapes can be symbols for more than mathematics, where they are more likely signs in fact [ My mistake!]
In severe cases of BVD, symptoms like dizziness may be so intense that a panic attack can be triggered just by walking outside.
This is especially true for those who don’t know they have BVD — the unexplained dizziness and disorientation only exacerbate their anxiety.
Anxiety from BVD can even cause agoraphobia, a fear of leaving the home. Visually-busy environments, such as a grocery store or mall, can cause sensory overload and lead to panic attacks.
Yes, my husband is a changed man since he died I have dreamed of him so frequently he hides One night we knelt down on the kitchen floor With brillo pads in hand we scrubbed the door
Then we cleaned the oven for two hours Death has given him such odd new powers He never speaks nor asks me what to do Thank the Lord our fireplace has no flue
I see more of him now that he is dead For every night these dreams live in my head He does not go to work nor write more books He goes to Ealing and he wants to cook
Should I buy some ground in the church yard? I have his ashes standing by the lard In the fridge the suet waits for me To make an apple dumpling for our tea
Oh, yes he likes to know what I shall eat He starved to death,his heart was far too weak But yet he likes to see me eat and sleep And have a little cat next to my feet
So far I do not love another man I shall become pan-sexual if I can For then I need not worry who to please I hate to lose myself but like to tease
Should my husband see me in the bed With another pillow and a head He might feel unwanted and be sad! Yet he left me and now I’m feeling mad
Why clean the oven, clean the kitchen sink? Why change the plugs and make the cat drink ink? Why have breakfast, why eat bread and jam? Why cook bacon in the frying pan?
Why go to bed when I shall have to rise? Why get up when I shall later lie? Why get washed when dirt comes back again? Why wash my hair and use a fountain pen?
I wonder why the floor is full of mud And whether nature gave me enough blood. Life is so precarious use it well Before all hear the tolling of the knell
My husband has a rubber face, He’s from a subspecies of the human race. Some men have faces fixed and set My husband’s face is not like that
He imitates our politicians, Just like Rory Bremner can. Though he has no wig or hair piece, He can look like anyone.
Some nights I waken for I am laughing While I am quite sound asleep. I am dreaming of his mobile features, Contorted to a different shape.He is skilled at telling jokes. And he loves a good cartoon. If I am feeling flu type blueness
Hhe can get me up again.
He has a rather noble visage. He gets attention he abhors. In the bar on King’s Cross Station— I was asked was he a Lord!He’s a Lord of Fun and Humour. He’s a Lord at Listening Well. He’s unique, but so are you, And all creatures that on earth do dwell
Although it’s dark, out there the blackbird sings His territory is the same as in the past An ancient ,holy sound begins the Spring.
These birds are little dinosaurs with wings Like the spider they adapt so last Although it’s dark, out there my blackbird sings.
What other pleasures will the season bring? The crocus flowers the daffodils,long grass An ancient ,holy sound begins the Spring.
In my leafy wood, birds wisely throng. We have no cat nor greenhouse with its glass Although it’s dark, out there my blackbird sings.
In my heart, for Northern moors I long; The heather where we loved, the sheep shorn grass As ancient ,holy sounds began the Spring.
Yet I am rarely mournful for the past God lives in each moment,Life’s our Mass Although it’s dark out there the blackbird sings An ancient ,holy sound begins the Sprin
Signs and symbols guide the route.
