Photo 2018 Copyright PL

The Jewish Cantors in Montreal on Leonard Cohen’s last album make a sound very  like plainsong which is sung by Catholic monks here and elsewhere.
Such close links,such sad experiences

Waxy flowers poking through
Snow so white
Flowers bright.
Made me think of you.

I see once more your dark brown hair,
Soft as snow,
On pillow.
Now my bed is bleak and bare

,
Face alight,flower to sun,
I loved you.
Love so  true.
Fear by love,overcome.

Cyclamen in  the snow,
Pink and red,
Now frozen,dead.
Love was,oh,so long ago.

But never gone from in my mind.
Thoughts so deep,
Upwards seep.
Love was gentle,love was kind
And always in my mind

Tributes paid to 95-year-old ‘shining light’ who tended to a dying Anne Frank and survived Nazi death camps
Gena Turgel married an English soldier who was one of the first to enter Belsen.Her wedding dress was made from a British parachute.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/aug/01/holocaust-survivors-uk-social-cohesion-splintering-warning-memorial

“Holocaust survivors have warned of a “splintering of social cohesion” in the UK that could lead to a repeat of the darkest days of fascist Germany, as they endorsed plans for a national Holocaust memorial in Westminster.

Three survivors, who were children when the Nazis embarked on a programme of genocide against Jewish people and are among the dwindling number of living witnesses, said the memorial would send a powerful message to future generations. “Germany yesterday could so easily become Britain tomorrow,” one said.

Peter Lantos, who lost 22 members of his family in the Holocaust, said: “We are the last generation to bear witness. When we die, no one can say ‘I was there’ …

“It’s important for the centre to be more than a record and testimony of the past. It is also a stark and powerful reminder, and warning to a future generation [of] what can happen when xenophobia and intolerance can lead to genocide.””

http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-557

“Samuel and his mother had left their family in Kinshasa in March 2016 to seek treatment for a tumour on her neck and for a lung condition the boy had.

After travelling to Algeria and spending eight months in Morocco, they climbed into a small inflatable boat on 12 January 2017, hoping to reach Europe. The boat never made it. A fortnight after Samuel’s body was discovered, Nzazi’s was found on a beach in Algeria.”

As news of their deaths emerged, a local NGO tore into the EU for shutting Europe up “like a fortress”, keeping out those fleeing war, hunger, misery and exploitation.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jan/26/boy-symbol-spain-migration-crisis-samuel-kabamba

Samuel and his mother who had cancer drowned trying to reach Spain or another European countrry
.The little boy’s body washed up on a Spanish beach but it was not publicised whereas 2 years ago a similar case went viral

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/jun/08/anthony-bourdain-chef-found-dead-61

https://nypost.com/tag/suicide/

Almost every day this week
I read someone has killed theirself
in the USA
UK
Elsewhere
Like the sister of the Dutch Queen
Well known successful, total failure,whatever
The suicide rate  is rising in the USA
Homicide down by 50%
But we are turning the hate inwards
Some of us suffer chemotherapy,surgery
Blindness,road accidents which cripple
Yet we fight to live.
Where is the sense?
Is it the horrors of the Wars
The Trump success
Brexit civil war in England?
Have we killed what seems worthwhile?
Are we in jobs with low pay
Surrounded by luxury goods
Or food we can’t afford for our children
Piled high in the shops we must go to?
Have we lost all connection to the Sacred?
Nature is dying
Cuckoo numbers of those living in England have declined by 75%
What next, the lark?
Are we unable to see in perspective?
Ot is it just a chemical lacking in our brains?
So sad to read these stories
Yet I know mental health is not prioritised
Apart from the shame, the labelling and the lowering of self confidence
Let’s help each other and ourselves.
It is not the answer
Life can become worthwhile once more
If we are patient

Image made from a drawing I did using Pixlr
https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/i-met-my-solitude

Crunching through the pebbles on the beach
The shells and stones shine damply  in the wet
They slip and slide beneath my  sandalled feet

Underneath, in places we can’t reach
Live tiny creatures on which humans step
Crunching through the pebbles on the beach

Salty air like sunshine colours bleach
The  neutered stones and shells  are lovely yet
They slip and slide beneath my  sandalled feet

We murder without knowing what we teach
Human greed, dark  oceans of regret
Scrunching through the pebbles on the beach

The smallest  of all creatures cannot screech
Say humans acts  still shapeless  are a threat
Worlds  slip and slide beneath my   first world feet

The blurred edge of the sea and sand’s not set
The boundaries   make a  space for what’s not yet
Loving are my memories of the beach
They slip and slide  in  wondrous retrospect

https://www.jpost.com/Opinion/Reflections-A-Jewish-response-to-hatred-and-violence-412003

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jun/07/tories-michael-howard-confronts-israel-over-gaza-protesters-deaths

Beginning

The former Conservative party leader Michael Howard has confronted the Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, over Israel’s recent killing of more than 100 Palestinian protesters, demanding to know why the country’s defence forces used live ammunition to curb the protests.

Responding to sharp, unexpected questions from one of the most prominent Jewish figures in British politics, Netanyahu said he was looking for new technological solutions to prevent protesters scaling the fence separating Gaza from Israel. He insisted the protesters were either paid civilians or Hamas members.

I have been told many times since my husband died that if I want to find a new partner I will have to appear less intelligent
[I don’t feel  very intelligent]

Well,if you didn’t know I write poetry or I taught maths how can you see that I am intelligent?

And unless I know what it is  that I do  that makes me seem intelligent I can’t change it.On the other hand if being intelligent  is such a handicap,is it worth looking for  another person to be close to? I  am going to be dead before this happens

https://hackspirit.com/6-habits-make-people-seem-less-intelligent/

Jordan Peterson says this too:

Extract

2) Poor Posture

If you want people to take you seriously, you need to take yourself seriously. This means that you need to present yourself seriously.

So show people you are serious by adopting a posture that says you are professional and approachable.

In other words, don’t slouch.

Sure, it is fine if you are working in your basement or lazing on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, but if you are doing work, sit up straight. Even if you work at home, getting dressed and sitting at your desk makes all the difference in your approach to work, and how you see yourself in your life.

So sit up straight. Make sure your feet are planted firmly on the floor and don’t hunch over your computer.

If you are in a meeting, be sure to keep your hands in front of you so that you don’t cross your arms: this makes you look closed off and unapproachable to those around you.

• 

  Everything always works out in the end

• Time heals all wounds
• We’ll all be laughing about this soon

Not if you were in Auscwitz or any other dreadful place

Perhaps not in Gaza  either

Not to a friend with cancer

Not to  your friend after you stole her fiance[e]

Not when  they have a miscarriage

Isn’t it just a feeling of worthlessness in the face of something wonderful that makes  someone hate it?

I think it’s exactly the opposite. You feel unworthy because of your hatred.

You see the object of desire and you hate it because it has what you want. Jealousy is less destructive because it acknowledges the worth of the object but someone else has it – it’s tripartite. But in envy you destroy the good object. It’s like a patient who meets someone that they could have a meaningful relationship with and then denigrates them and undermines them, says they are being manipulated and actually makes the good bad. It’s biting the hand that feeds us. Gratitude is not the only opposite of envy but the capacity to take pleasure in someone else’s achievement is the opposite of envy.

To  walk the  path that everyone walks on
Or turn off to the heather and the hill?
A still small voice must guide us  or we’re done

Life to children’s agony and fun
Where little is decided by the will
We  walk the  path that our parents trod on

When a child matures, he is a man
She has her own deep nature to fulfill
A still small voice must guide  us, everyone

But can we hear the voice in such a din?
The noise of all we see  may well compel
To  walk the  path that our parents have done

What is my true way, what is my sin?
Who will help me see what is the real?
A still small voice is heard if we listen

Advances must be made by  who rebels.
The prophets spoke with God and heard him tell
Not to  walk the  path that all walk on
His still small voice must guide us  or we’re done

https://interestingliterature.com/2017/10/11/10-of-the-best-poems-about-identity-and-the-self/

The Self-Unseeing by Thomas Hary

Here is the ancient floor,
Footworn and hollowed and thin,
Here was the former door
Where the dead feet walked in.

She sat here in her chair,
Smiling into the fire;
He who played stood there,
Bowing it higher and higher.

Childlike, I danced in a dream;
Blessings emblazoned that day;
Everything glowed with a gleam;
Yet we were looking away!

Cats  make good companions for the lone
Their eyes convey both hate and sweetest joy
Unlike the diamond ring or garden gnome

If you have no spouse nor a toy boy
A cat can kiss you  well and then annoy
Cats  make  just companions for the lone

Cats ,like gentlemen ,can  wildly roam
And never tell you who or what they saw
I like  a diamond ring or garden gnome

A cat won’t ever ask, what’s Google Chrome?
Nor ask why you’ve  got lovers by the score
Cats  make real companions for the lone

And by your moods ,no cat is  overthrown
Though some may exit through their  little door
Cats  make loved companions for the lone

Yet even cats have limits that implore
That you should  find a human to adore
Cats  make good companions for the lone
Unlike  a diamond ring or garden gnome

https://www.etymonline.com/word/conscience

https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/syneidesis

syneidesis

Art by Katherine

As Mary got ready to go out,she realised she had not combed her hair.Where were the 24 combs she had bought from Amazon?Not in her delightful red and purple shoulder bag.She pondered over what to d0
1 Use the clothes brush
2.Try a nailbrush
3 Use her toothbrush
4.Look on the floor
5.Look in all the drawers in the huse
In the end she decided to pour some water over her head put on some oil , then push her hair into the direction she wanted
She putt on her red dress with a pattern of little books all over, a favourite of Stan, her late husband.Her shoes were peach coloured in homage to some artist who liked clashing colours.He was not good as an artist except for this ability to find the worst possible colours to put together.So he is known as Ned the Red and Purple
Suddenly the doorbell rang like a burglar alarm on heat.She opened the door and Dave the paramedic ran in
What’s wrong,Dave, she asked
I am being chased by a  big Siamese cat,he replied.
I can’t see  any cats, she said in  a kindly tone.Never mind,let me make you some coffee
Before she could close the door a big and lovely  cat ran in
Who are you,Mary asked him?
I am called Jeb, he told her.I like that man in the dress  so I want to ask him to adopt me.
OK said Dave.My cat died and I’ve  been too sad to  get another one.Are you  able to sleep  by me in bed
Definitely, said Jeb.It hs been my life time desire
All three sat down in the small but delightful  orange and lime kitchen watching Emile climb a tree.
I haven’t seen you lately,Dave said gently to Mary
No,I went to the hairdresser and my hair is so short it looks as if I am having chemotherapy.Still it was nice to be cossetted and it won’t need  much arranging  or blow-drying.
I suppose you could let the back grow before the winter,Dave told her
Yes, at least my head is cooler for the summer.It was hot when I went there so I assumed that would  carry on.But now it is colder.
How about wearing a hat?
Yes,I’ll ask Annie about that as she knows more about clothes than I ever shall
The phone rang starling Jeb who had been living in a field
Hello, this is Sister Mayflower from the bereavement group.
Hello,Sister.How are you?
I am worried because the other women were so unwelcoming.I have taken it over recently and recognise they are a closed group and it is 20 years since most of them were bereaved so they don’t want anyone to distress them by actually feeling sad.
Don’t worry about me.I only came because Annie my neighbour saw an advert for it and I did it to please her.
I see ,said Sr Mayflower.You can come to the Convent if you like.Just say Mayflower.
Thank you very much.Bye , bye, said Mary
Who was that, a nun? said Dave.Don’t tell me.I can guess,Several patients we’ve had have been there and were disappointed.They should call it tea and chat  except they don’t want any one new to join even in that.Odd as it is a Church based on the teachings of Jesus.Love one another.
Loving others may be harder than it sound,Mary mused scientifically
i feel much better , she said.I am playing the piano every day.I met 3 friends  for coffee and then went to the bookshop.I love sitting there looking at new books.And it’s nice not to have to cook every night
Mary got up ,oh dear, her trousers fell down
Good grief,Dave cried.You  have lost weight  and you are wearing red knickers!What next?
Yes, said Mary.Don’t you like them?
I am unsure.Shall I get some?
Just get 1 pair and see how you feel.I got mine in the Market.Otherwise Marks do purple and green ones,Mary murmured
Imagine all the old folk wondering around the  town might be wearing purple and green knickers. said Dave.It must make  washing hard as you can’t put them in the 60 degree wash.
I never thought of that, cried Mary, her blue mascara running down her face.
I’ve  read some women wear a  pair once and then throw them out
Well, they could cut them up and use them as dusters,Dave  mused.
Why not just by dusters and wear white or beige knickers? Life is hard enought without worrying about such trivia
My mascara is melting because my eyes keep watering.
Go and sit by the potted plants and let it fall on them,Dave said scientifically
Don’t be ridiculous, she said knowingly.I think it is hayfever or the pollution in town.The traffic was like a plague of giant  houseflies on wheels.All stuck still.
Well flies don’t keep still,Dave said.If they did we would kill them
I guess   there’s an accident ” on the motorway so they send  the cars down here.I wish they had kept the railways open as the roads are frightening with those big lorries with cars on the back.I used to be afraid one might fall off on us,Mary remininisced, when Stan drove me to the coast
The door opened and in dashed Annie from next door.She wore a dark wine track suit with a pale pink T shirt matching her lipstick from Yves de Beauvoir  McMorris of Paris and Wigan.
Hi Dave she said.I love that dress,Is it from Marks?
Yes, he answered.I like these cotton maxi dresses  in hot weather.
I can understand that ,she whispered.Trousers  are hot and if you wash  them they need ironing.People forget we sweat more in the heat
That’s fortunate,Mary said.Otherwise we would die
And so cry all of us except Jeb.Jeb never cries

This photo is copyright

The other women  sat and gawped
As if I’d looped  on the loop  on the loop
They didn’t want   another old face
In this  so called bereavement group

One had made a great sponge cake
The best I ever ate
She handed me a tempting  big slice
Though I’m already over-weight

One  cried out she felt distressed
I asked her  when  had he died?
21 years ago she said
And I am still half alive

I waited for the group to start
I’d been there for an hour
A group they cried, we came to chat
And they had all the power

The noise their  shrieking  voices made
Made my  head feel strained
I ate the cake and sat alone
Like a goldfish that fell down a drain

Up  I got and said,I’m off
The  nun in charge was pained
The talking stopped and I said, goodbye
I shall not be coming again

She tempted me with her rosary beads
She tempted me in vain
I  thought I knew what a group might do
But to these others it was not very plain

They’ve all been going for  so many years
It’s nothing to do with the brief
For surely if  it was, they would have been kind
To another lost person in grief

Now the hairdresser’s cut my hair very short
I look  like the chemo is strong
I didn’t look in the mirror for no-one is here
And  my image  has gone with the wind

Could you write a poem if you tried?
It’s just a few black patterns on the page.
I  wrote this villanelle  before I died

Would you write free verse,  just on the side?
Or would the lack of form  make you enraged?
Could you write a poem if you tried?

Do you like what manners like to hide?
Would you keep your black  dog in a cage?
I wrote this villanelle  before I died

Has your ink got all glued up and dried?
Does your writing not fit  on the page?
Could you write a poem if you tried?

Write alot and weep  when you decide
My cat and I have now become enraged
I wrote this villanelle  before I died

Do  not let the critics  bring out rage
At the worst, you start a brand new page
Could you write a poem if you tried?
I  wrote this villanelle  and then ate pi

https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2009/dec/14/you-can-t-speed-read-literature

“Compare this classic Dickensian opening line with the skimmed version that follows, and ask yourself, is it really worth tearing through great prose like Gordon Gecko tearing through the assets of a newly acquired company?

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

– Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (1859)

Best times/worst times, age wisdom/foolishness, epoch belief/incredulity, season Light/Darkness, spring hope, winter despair.

Charles Dickens, the skimmed version.

Notwithstanding the aesthetic pleasure derived from reading, how well can one appreciate the nuances of character and circumstance in a novel if one is reading 10 pages per minutes sans Bloomian comprehension skills? I’m not convinced that the average person can ever learn to read at speed and contemplate at leisure. Speed reading is a bit like trying to appreciate the sights of Paris while racing through the streets at 200 kmph.”