https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/lyric

He’s gonna ban the Dow Jones average
Be it median,mode or mean
And please never mention Beveridge
Good works make  oranges scream.

I guess hair dye  is selling well
It will boost the USA
Of course we surely cannot tell
He could have bought his hair on E bay

Sadness fills me,overcomes
For women will date evil men
But  if I was a starving Mum
I’d do the same as them

Original sin forgotten now
We are all very good at heart
As Adam pulls his heavy plough
Eve’s labour  pains will start.

The sin is in society
We learn in with our tongue
And maintaining true sobriety
We  equate the left with the wrong

Free health care is socialist
And we know who invented that
Jesus with his corrosive says
Got his bloody care on the Cross.

Oh, damned  world, we’re unredeemed
God was an optimist
Omniscience fooled  by  human schemes
Now with the dust God is tossed

Ground into fine particles
Beaten with stones,bricks and rods
Evil is surely anarchical
Buy  your own compost  of God.

Now it’s God who needs saving
And what man is up to the job?
Leaders are feeble or raving
As platitudes  tortured they lob.

Women lie down with the monsters
Blinded by  poverty cruel
If you are a Charity Sponsor
At least give Satan a duel

Note: mean,mode and median are different ways of  calculating an average or middle point in numerical data.I don’t know which one is used in the Dow Jones as there is also a geometric mean

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dow_Jones_Industrial_Average

Why can’t we  disagree without fights
Or spitting out words full of spite
Ad hominem swearing
Is boring and wearing
And no-one is ever that right

Why not hear what I  want to say
And let your own mind come to play>
I will respect you
I’ll never reject you
I’ll be happy  on such a good day

“Ad hominem” is Latin.To be brief it means instead of discussing or debating what the other person is saying, you insult them and try to wound them to make them look stupid

It is not a logical or scientific tool.It is a fool’s tool when they can’t think of a good response and it leads to trouble.

http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/ahed-tamimi-soldier-slap-israel-charges-court-everything-wrong-response-a8138276.html

Does she need to be shackled hands and feet in an Israeli Court? Might she slap a man?

Almost dark,no birdsong, absent sun
With pink and mauve and grey the sky endears.
As if by grace , the light has been and gone.

Like an automaton.  I live on.
Full of tight emotion, my life runs
Almost dark,no birdsong,no bright sun

My three cats have vanished,every one
Their company, erratic, creates fun
As if by grace, they eat  and then are gone

In  Northern winter humans feel  undone
Though spiders and small beetles  love this home
Almost dark,no birdsong,no bright sun

By thoughts of endless night I’m overcome
My heart has perished,come oh cherubim
Struck by demons light has been and gone

See me youthful with my long,longs limbs
See me old  weighed down by loss and sin
Almost dark,no birdsong, absent sun
Suddenly my life  has been and gone.

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2009/jul/12/religion-christianity-belief-science

“In most pre-modern cultures, there were two recognised ways of attaining truth. The Greeks called them mythos and logos. Both were crucial and each had its particular sphere of competence. Logos (“reason; science”) was the pragmatic mode of thought that enabled us to control our environment and function in the world. It had, therefore, to correspond accurately to external realities. But logos could not assuage human grief or give people intimations that their lives had meaning. For that they turned to mythos, an early form of psychology, which dealt with the more elusive aspects of human experience.

Stories of heroes descending to the underworld were not regarded as primarily factual but taught people how to negotiate the obscure regions of the psyche. In the same way, the purpose of a creation myth was therapeutic; before the modern period no sensible person ever thought it gave an accurate account of the origins of life. A cosmology was recited at times of crisis or sickness, when people needed a symbolic influx of the creative energy that had brought something out of nothing. Thus the Genesis myth, a gentle polemic against Babylonian religion, was balm to the bruised spirits of the Israelites who had been defeated and deported by the armies of Nebuchadnezzar during the sixth century BCE. Nobody was required to “believe” it; like most peoples, the Israelites had a number of other mutually-exclusive creation stories and as late as the 16th century, Jews thought nothing of making up a new creation myth that bore no relation to Genesis but spoke more directly to their tragic circumstances at that time.

Above all, myth was a programme of action. When a mythical narrative was symbolically re-enacted, it brought to light within the practitioner something “true” about human life and the way our humanity worked, even if its insights, like those of art, could not be proven rationally. If you did not act upon it, it would remain as incomprehensible and abstract – like the rules of a board game, which seem impossibly convoluted, dull and meaningless until you start to play.

Religious truth is, therefore, a species of practical knowledge. Like swimming, we cannot learn it in the abstract; we have to plunge into the pool and acquire the knack by dedicated practice. Religious doctrines are a product of ritual and ethical observance, and make no sense unless they are accompanied by such spiritual exercises as yoga, prayer, liturgy and a consistently compassionate lifestyle. Skilled practice in these disciplines can lead to intimations of the transcendence we call God, Nirvana, Brahman or Dao. Without such dedicated practice, these concepts remain incoherent, incredible and even absurd.

But during the modern period, scientific logos became so successful that myth was discredited, the logos of scientific rationalism became the only valid path to truth, and Newton and Descartes claimed it was possible to prove God’s existence, something earlier Jewish, Christian and Muslim theologians had vigorously denied. Christians bought into the scientific theology, and some embarked on the doomed venture of turning their faith’s mythos into logos.

It was during the late 17th century, as the western conception of truth became more notional, that the word “belief” changed its meaning. Previously, bilevemeant “love, loyalty, commitment”. It was related to the Latin libido and used in the King James Bible to translate the Greek pistis (“trust; faithfulness; involvement”). In demanding pistis, therefore, Jesus was asking for commitment not credulity: people must give everything to the poor, follow him to the end, and commit totally to the coming Kingdom.

By the late 17th century, however, philosophers and scientists had started to use “belief” to mean an intellectual assent to a somewhat dubious proposition. We often assume “modern” means “superior”, and while this is true of science and technology, our religious thinking is often undeveloped. In the past, people understood it was unwise to confuse mythos with logos, but today we read the mythoi of scripture with an unparalleled literalism, and in “creation science” we have bad science and inept religion. The question is: how can we extricate ourselves from the religious cul-de-sac we entered about 300 years ago?”

Expectations blind us to the real
Like fantasies that populate our world
Better  learn what’s here and how to feel

By corruption, many  true facts are  concealed
The ” good”  do evil as the snake uncurls
Expectations blind us to the real

The cunning  learn to maximise appeal
Only those who search can find the Word
Better  learn what’s here and how to feel

Obvious ,since cunning is their deal
The Charities  kept guard on what they heard
Expectations blind us to the real

Now we swim in   shallow,filthy seas
Can we find a way to live well and that’s shared?
Notice what is here and how we  feel

We know that life is hard and rarely fair
As refugees torn fingernails are bare
Expectations blind us to the real
Better  learn what’s here and really feel

{Argute means shrewd. I have never heard this being used]

Argute is a new word to me

The meaning’s as clear as can be.

Stan was wearing his best suit topped by a denim apron polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife.
Mary entered the room wearing a long purple and mauve dress which clung somewhat tightly to the curvaceous contours of her beautifully rounded body.On her feet she had some smart pewter ballet slippers and in her elegant hand she carried a huge pewter clutch bag which contained some of her many medications.She addressed Stan,
”I think I can leave my handbag behind if I put my mouth spray into my bra.”
“That somehow detracts from the romance of the evening.” Stan pronounced openly.

“Well,you know,I never had a cleavage until lately and I fell I ought to make the most of it.”

“Surely I should be the one make the most of it,” he riposted jocosely.
“Of course you may.my angel,but not in the restaurant,”she answered back sweetly
“I’ll put your spray in my pocket then,shall I?”
Suddenly the doorbell rang.
”Who’s this?”It was Annie,their next door neighbour. She was wearing a coral velvet track suit with matching Reeboks and sun hat .
”Hi,I just came in with a little prezzie,”She declaimed.In her hand was a huge box of chocolates..
”Gosh,Mary you look lovely in that beautiful long dress but you’re not going on your bike,are you?”
“No,we are having a cab,but it’s not come as yet.”
“Well,never mind.I’ll ring 999 and get them to send an emergency ambulance for you!”
Fortunately,as luck would have it the minicab appeared from the sky and it was only as they were entering the restaurant that Stan realised he was still wearing his old denim apron.
“Shall I take it off?” he pondered.
On the pro side I will look smarter on the con side I might spill some soup down my front.I wish I’d done more logic at college.So he kept it on.Mary didn’t seem to notice.She just took him for granted.
If he stood on his head and sang”Jerusalem” she probably wouldn’t pay any attention.
Then he noticed that Mary was wearing an apron too.It was the same colour as her dress.What a brilliant idea,he thought.”There may be money in this.” He could start a small business,”Aprons R You” selling lovely aprons in all colours of the rainbow.
Suddenly he heard noises;he awoke and heard Mary shouting “How can you go to sleep when you are out with me?”
“Would you prefer me to recite the Periodic Table?” he snapped gently.
“I’d prefer a poem,” she cried…
All right,Petal,I’ll think of one soon.In the meantime would you like a fool?”
“No.I’ve got you,” she responded handsomely.
“I mean for a pudding?”
“Oh,yes please.A Rubik fool would be lovely.It will pass the time.You know I get so bored.”
“Well,I do my best but it’s hard keeping up with you.Would you like to read a few truth tables whilst I finish my meat.”
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small leather bound book.
“Truth tables and levitation for geniuses,” by Bertha Russell.
“Oh,Stan,this looks interesting.I’ve always wanted to fly like an angel or an owl.”
“It’s never too late to say ever.” he responded.”Whatever do you mean?”
“I don’t know.Just because a sentence is grammatically correct doesn’t imply that it means something.”
“Yes,quite right.And conversely a sentence can mean something even when it’s not grammatically correct.”
“Isn’t thinking exciting!”
“Yes,indeed.I was thinking how exciting it will be to go to bed with you.”
“Wow,good grammar and full of meaning.I am yours.I am like a ripe plum ready to drop off the tree.I am a cat ready to mate.I am a song waiting to be sung.”
“Gosh,are metaphors your bete noir?”
“Je ne parle pas Francais.

Aimez vous ein Nederlander?”

“Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
Ist sein mutter immer krank?”

And so they trotted off happily to bed like two pigs in clover,as Shakespeare might have said when pissed.

I have the best doctor in town
He wears a nice suit and a frown
But he acts on his thoughts
Without saying aught
Still it all goes to show we can learn

He put his two hands round my throat
Not to strangle me,if so you thought
He was feeling my glands
With his surgeon trained hands
Before I would put on my coat

He looks very sharply and well
To see if there are signs that will tell
If I am anaemic
He won’t believe it
Unless my blood has only   white cells.

“I will say this quite plainly, what truly human is -and don’t be afraid of this word- love. And I mean it even with everything that burdens love or, i could say it better, responsibility is actually love, as Pascal said: ‘without concupiscence’ [without lust]…  love exists without worrying about being loved.”
― Emmanuel Lévinas, Of God Who Comes to Mind

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2009/jul/12/religion-christianity-belief-science

What makes objects real are shadows dark
A consequence of standing in the light
Against a plain white wall the picture’s stark
We have sunny day and pitch black nights

We paint in essence  what the sun achieves
As it glows above with its bright needs
A god in ancient wisdom,  man believed
It might not rise if we did evil deeds

But God lets sun shine on us good and bad
Who knows which kind human creates hell?
A child who bites her mother and her dad
A  pilate who finds  truth is hard to tell

The shadow of the  world is our domain
Where we must live the joy and  live the pain

“To know more, one must feel less, and vice versa… Nature, the soul, love, and God, one recognizes through the heart, and not through the reason. Were we spirits, we could dwell in that region of ideas over which our souls hover, seeking the solution. But we are earth-born beings, and can only guess at the Idea — not grasp it by all sides at once. The guide for our intelligences through the temporary illusion into the innermost centre of the soul is called Reason. Now, Reason is a material capacity, while the soul or spirit lives on the thoughts which are whispered by the heart. Thought is born in the soul. Reason is a tool, a machine, which is driven by the spiritual fire. When human reason … penetrates into the domain of knowledge, it works independently of the feeling, and consequently of the heart.”

Dostoyevsky

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/kimberly-tan/why-do-we-care-about-gram_b_1635448.html

“Why do we care about grammar to the extent that we do? Of course, it can be valuable in some contexts in order to guarantee clarity and bring a level of order and elegance into the language. But beyond those basic rules, why does it matter? What difference is there between “to write furiously” and “to furiously write”? People would understand the meaning regardless, even though the latter contains the dreaded split infinitive. Hundreds of years ago, individuals did not even know, much less care, about these minor conventions, but nowadays, people immediately pounce on the slightest grammar infraction, no matter how inconsequential. As Lynch astutely notes, however, there is no reason why proper grammar should be valued so highly, as phrases such as “colorless green ideas sleep furiously” are virtually nonsense but break no grammatical rules, while “I ain’t got nothing” is one of the most hated phrases in English, even though it is perfectly comprehensible and invokes a sense of personality and style that most other phrases remain unable to do.”

The splashing water in the fountain sings
Like murmuring streamlets as from hills they spring
When I close my eyes I seem to be
By the road to Dent from Ingleby

In a river pool,  the water shone.
A breeze of ripples  swum this ocean
The limestone crags like bibles speak to me
A parable of images I see.

And as we climb up to the  ancient town
A whirlwind rages, wills to knock us down
Yet God did not appear in raging storms
But by a still small voice, his words were borne.

So this fountain is in miniature
A holy place where new thoughts spring up pure.

Some evenings, the sky turned pink

We were happy, lying in the grass

There was a young lady from  Harrow
Whose hips were excessively narrow
So  her jeans were too wide
And such was her pride
She said she felt better in Jarrow

Another young lady was tall
As she  hardly slouched on the wall
She took her young man
For a stroll to Japan
Which makes little sense to us all

Rollo May’s The Meaning of Anxiety (public library), originally published in 1950:

We can understand Kierkegaard’s ideas on the relation between guilt and anxiety only by emphasizing that he is always speaking of anxiety in its relation to creativity. Because it is possible to create — creating one’s self, willing to be one’s self, as well as creating in all the innumerable daily activities (and these are two phases of the same process) — one has anxiety. One would have no anxiety if there were no possibility whatever. Now creating, actualizing one’s possibilities, always involves negative as well as positive aspects. It always involves destroying the status quo, destroying old patterns within oneself, progressively destroying what one has clung to from childhood on, and creating new and original forms and ways of living. If one does not do this, one is refusing to grow, refusing to avail himself of his possibilities; one is shirking his responsibility to himself. Hence refusal to actualize one’s possibilities brings guilt toward one’s self. But creating also means destroying the status quo of one’s environment, breaking the old forms; it means producing something new and original in human relations as well as in cultural forms (e.g., the creativity of the artist). Thus every experience of creativity has its potentiality of aggression or denial toward other persons in one’s environment or established patterns within one’s self. To put the matter figuratively, in every experience of creativity something in the past is killed that something new in the present may be born. Hence, for Kierkegaard, guilt feeling is always a concomitant of anxiety: both are aspects of experiencing and actualizing possibility. The more creative the person, he held, the more anxiety and guilt are potentially present.

What would it be like if we had to use punctuation when speaking>
I say comma old girl comma.do you fancy a night out question mark
Yes comma she replied cheerfully full stop.Where shall we go question mark

Not very appealing, is it?
In oral communication, we use the tone of our voice, emphasis on certain words, our facial expressions etc to make what we say understandable.There is a big variation in how much affect our feeling we put into our voices too
How are you,dear?  can sound very caring or quite brusque.This is something we need to think about.We may not be getting across to the other that we are really interested to know how they are.
And as a listener [ which is a skill many of us lack] are we hearing what the other person is telling us or are we on automatic?~

The violent torrent springs from mountain’s  flood
Thunders down the hillside  like a God
But in the flatter fields  its force  is less
It gently flows through meadows brown  cows  bless

It broadens , flanked by gracious water mills
Here industry  exerts its iron will
Polluted.  disturbed  Tees  just flounders by
Until it reaches its great estuary

Wide and sandy beaches to the South
Decorate this generous water-mouth
As shells and little fossils mix with stones
We find   peace and salty little bones

In its end, the wild stream  has quite gone
The North Sea’s waves smack  rivers overcome

There was a young man with a stammer
Who was addicted to using bad grammar
So he learned what was right
Before he could write
With errors that struck like a hammer

And they say we should not begin “and”
But, pardon me, I think it’s grand
And furthermore
When we open a door
We might find your invisible Hand

I found your wedding shirt among my clothes
I must have saved it from my sister’s hands
Remembering the dead is not on trend
Fear of  grief and this life’s startling blows
Your  last smile

Yet loss and death are not  such evil foes
Though on  our face they leave  old sorrow’s brand
And they can’t be controlled,  we understand
We learn how small we are, like worms  below
A wedding shirt

And so this knowledge’s to our heart’s bestowed
We can’t send loss to trash to be disposed
Our response  speals from our heart, by mind unplanned
We are naked as the East wind blows
A wedding dress

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/rondeau