Frugality and poverty

IMG_0097https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/aug/08/frugal-bloggers-budget-personal-finance-poverty

I have read this and agree there is a big difference between well off people being frugal and people who are really very poor and have little choice.There is no direct connection between frugality and holiness

Some ways I have found to save money

[Don’t go without a warm coat and wool hat in winter.Cold thickens your blood and  can cause heart attacks  or strokes.[

1.Switch to a digital subscription to a newspaper.For the Guardian it is £11.99 a month rather than buying in a shop… £65 a month.
The Guardian  will let you read a lot for free
2 Use dishcloths and tea towels instead of kitchen paper.
Cut up old underwear and use for cleaning bathroom etc.
Try  using hankies except when  you have a cold.
3 Shower less and use a sponge to wash yourself while standing on a towel
4. Use a public convenience while you are out to save on your water bill.
5 In winter  if you are not working sit in a public library and read the newspapers.The rooms are usually quite hot.
6 Wash your outer clothes less frequently.
7 Try soaking dry clean only clothes in cool water and then drip dry.I did this with a wool skirt I spilt milk on.
8 Food is a place you can save money.For example vegetarian recipes.Make your own yoghurt etc.
9.Ring your phone supplier and ask  if they can do you a better offer as you are going to switch elsewhere if they refuse.I saved £20 pm
10.Meditate,listen to  Radio 3, or 4 have tea with a neighbour…. all free.
11 Buy shoes in Sales.
12 Have people round but not the ones who expect a 3 course meal.Ones who like you and don’t mind what you feed them on,
13 Give some of your savings to charity.The RNIB is poor.Guide Dogs get loads of money ironically

I hope that this applies to you

People gossip and tell lies
Read the Sun and, unpaid, spy
As I drank the Precious Blood
I knew that Jesus understood
As I ate the Bread I knew
He has suffered  like I do
I am human,I am true
I hope that this applies to you
If you used your mind and heart
You would never dwell in  doubt
Don’t you have a happy life?
End the struggle,cease the strife

A limerick

Christmas comes now and again
I lost  my new diary and my pen
Calendars are new for you
Cameras….how do you do.
Christmas is sad with no man

Who  used to bring me my tea
Share a tender kiss and love me?
It was not the milkman
Nor   any type superman
All I know is his name started G

The cool web by Robert Graves

https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2017/dec/18/poem-of-the-week-the-cool-web-by-robert-graves

 

The Cool Web

Children are dumb to say how hot the day is,
How hot the scent is of the summer rose,
How dreadful the black wastes of evening sky,
How dreadful the tall soldiers drumming by.

But we have speech, to chill the angry day,
And speech, to dull the rose’s cruel scent.
We spell away the overhanging night,
We spell away the soldiers and the fright.

There’s a cool web of language winds us in,
Retreat from too much joy or too much fear:
We grow sea-green at last and coldly die
In brininess and volubility.

But if we let our tongues lose self-possession,
Throwing off language and its watery clasp
Before our death, instead of when death comes,
Facing the wide glare of the children’s day,
Facing the rose, the dark sky and the drums,
We shall go mad no doubt and die that way.

A few questions

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Are you sorry you lost your temper?
No,I am sorry it keeps coming back.
Are you amorous?
No,I am a moron
Are you sorry about your past
No,I am sorry about yours.
Are you sorry your swore?
Yes but I was under oath.
What is your New Year Resolution?
1960 x1270
What is high definition TV?
A talking  dictionary  with a screen
Who  created the Messiah?
I didn’t do  anything at all

Porcupine or seal

My lover went to Lapland as he found  me rather warm
You  porcupine, he shouted out, I prefer a seal
Are you sure.I questioned him, for I did not wish him harm
I have to get away from you, I  prefer my conger eel.

He set off in his motor car, the ferry was quite late
He  was a little angry then but soon he became calm
He got talking to a mermaid and  now she is his mate
She lives deep in the icy sea and he loves her frigid arms

I don’t know how you would feel, if after twenty years
Of being called a porcupine, when swaddled iin his arms
Your lover went  to the North Pole, and left you only tears
At least I can enjoy my bed without  his wild alarms

The melody is not the words but how they are combined
I  have lost all faith in men , unless their names form rhymes
I  know we have got clocks today but meter bends the time.
As dancing bends the space around the movers  rapt, sublime

Voluntarily

The sparrow chuckled in the Xmas tree
Cosy like a tea pot by the fire
He acted like an ornament for free

The golden  coins are of no use to me
Although  I  do admit I am a liar
The sparrow chuckles in the Xmas tree

That little bird is laughing without fee.
A living  bird is never  out for hire
He acts  just like an ornament, for free

Ancient decorations   beautify.
The bird  will wing, not linger on the wire
The sparrow chuckles in the green pine tree

I   send love  by blackbird’s  litany.
Will  golden ladybirds  become a choir
And act like  special ornaments for free?

The   lamb shall love the golden lion  entire
I kiss the falcon in its widening gyre
The sparrow shivers in the Xmas tree
He  softly sings love  voluntarily

 

 

My heart is singing like  the little birds in Dent

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Visit Mike at

http://home.btconnect.com/mike.flemming/

I see the wild geraniums, smell that scent
I feel all nature is embodied there
My heart is singing like  the little birds in Dent

Into a mountain stream my lover went
The sheep then gathered for a wondering stare
I see the wild geraniums, smell that scent

When Easter comes,we heed the death of Lent
Soon leaves will cover hard ground winter bare
My heart is singing like  the little birds in Dent

The limestone in the hills  where walkers wend
Attracts me to the pavements  flowered fair
I see the wild geraniums, smell that scent

From Alston down to Ullswater descend
The image of the  tyrant mountains stares
My heart is singing like  the little birds in Dent

 

How may we come to live as if we are
Kin to  flowers, no  longer conquerors?
I feel the wild geraniums, visceral scent
My heart is  happy like  the little birds in Dent

 

 

Limestone crags and pavements with wild flowers

Limestone crags and pavements with wild flowers
My happiness was like their shape and form
West coast sun and West Wind Easter showers

Rambling on past broken Norman towers
Rams arrested us by curly horns
Limestone crags and pavements with wild flowers

Seems now I  have wasted many hours
In libraries,in eagerness to learn
No West coast sun nor West Wind fragrant showers

Ingleborough, Dent , oh,down rain pours
Non-human universe, its love so stern
Limestone crags their pavements with wild flowers

Here there dwells a love Northern and pure
To which I’d give my eye teeth to return
West coast sun and West Wind softest showers

As children in our play we  ignorant learn
Always sensing which  way we  may turn
On limestone crags and pavements with wild flowers
In West coast sun and  loving Irish showers

r

Where wilder creatures

A blue grey sky behind the willow tree
Almost dusk,it’s neither night nor day
Bare branches wave in timeless ecstasy

From high above, a forest is a sea
Where wilder creatures in their strange haunts play
Such dark grey sky behind the willow tree

Seems like nature’s making a strong plea
We’re joined as one yet separate in our ways
Bare branches show  their timeless ecstasy

I wish  to  see like a  wild falcon sees
I wish to pray like ancient saints might pray
To gods who dance within a shuddering tree

O exchange places with a lively bee
With nectar, pollen, golden dust to lay.
Bare branches share  their timeless ecstasy

I saw the sea from cliffs above Lyme Bay
I saw the lights from far,so far away
A blue grey sky delights the willow tree
Bare branches rave in holy ecstasy

Instead of typing letters,I was learning Greek online

I’m going to go to prison for wasting my worktime
Instead of typing letters,I was learning Greek online
The police took my computer, saw Plato’s head divine
Then they saw my tablet,!Is studying the new crime?

Forty thousand letters,not French ones but Greek
I am an eager learner but  I’ve lost the will to speak
I wonder why they searched it, who  was it who leaked?
I don’t know how they spied on me as my mouse can’t speak

I also learned statistics,geology  and Dutch
I  just love to  use my mind but maybe that’s  too much
I should have learned humanities,I and Thou and such
I like  Buber,Kierkegaard and eating Cornish Fudge

Beware of using laptops which  don’t belong to you
Or you might well go to jail with a bucket for a loo.
Still,learning is not murder,  mindless we turn blue
Ask your fellow workers and do just what they do.

Spend your day om gossip, smoke while in the loo
Slander all your enemies and slander your friends too
Do  just what you must each day, and never leave a clue
Do your learning from a  book so no-one knows but you.

Roses fair

An unknown man has sent me roses fair
My name is wrongly spelled upon the box
Invisible,impossible, who cares?

Perhaps he wants to do what no man dares:
To learn  statistics while he irons my locks
An unknown man has sent me roses fair

I hear a footstep on my creaking stair
Can it be a human or a fox?
Invisible in silence our hearts tear

I  dream of mother  calling out,beware!
She made me lots of cotton summer frocks
Lord, a man has sent me roses fair

Now my clothes are worn as is my hair
I have got more textbooks than wool socks
Invisibly, untimely, our hearts tear.

I wish I were a  book inside a box
With  no need for love or human touch
An unknown man has sent me roses fair
Unknowable,impossible to bear

Trump- Julia Kristeva

 

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Art by Katherine

http://www.kristeva.fr/the-kristeva-circle/trump.html

 

“The phenomenon of Donald Trump’s ascendency to become the 45th President of the United States is surely overdetermined, meaning that there are likely many different causes for this. The one I entertain here is I believe significant, though I do not argue that it is the main or only cause. But it is one we should consider and address. In short, I argue that the rise of Trump is in part due to a paranoid-schizoid politics found both in the personality of Trump himself and in a large-scale regression of many in the populace to a more primitive state of denial, splitting, and demonization, coupled with a syndrome of ideality. In other words, both Trump and his supporters split the world into good and bad (or SAD!!!! as Trump likes to tweet). In his inaugural speech he repeatedly demonized foreign powers and idealized America. His America first policy is textbook paranoid- schizoid: “We must protect our borders from the ravages of other countries making our products, stealing our companies and destroying our jobs.”

 

The Trump phenomenon shares much with many other nationalist politics on the rise around the world, but mostly an inability to tolerate difference and loss, including loss of a romanticized past or idealized future. Hence our politics today needs something that psychoanalytic theory has tried to offer: an understanding of how to work through trauma, loss, and persecutory phantasies. A politics of working through difficult choices and misrepresentations of others in our midst could help allay the paranoid politics that dominates politics today.”

 

After giving an account of the concept of working through in Freud, Klein, and Kristeva, I turn to the Trump phenomenon and then close with a brief account of a politics of working through.

 

 

I.

 

 

But because of the sadomasochistic nature of he drives, the adolescent’s belief in the ideal object is constantly threatened. Accordingly, Kristeva argues, “theadolescent is a believer of the object relation and/or of its impossibility.” [11] This gives rise to the ideality syndrome, the belief that there is a Great Other that exists and can provide absolute satisfaction. This is not just a syndrome that plagues teenagers: “We are all adolescents when we are enthralled by the absolute.” [12]Just as anyone can regress back to a paranoid-schizoid position, the temptation of ideality or its flip side of nihilism can tempt any adult as well as political bodies.

Doing maths secretly at work because your partner hates it

Cats on the hill
A Tory MP has been suspended for spending 8 hours a day  on his work computer doing a mathematics degree at the Open University.He has got a B A and was starting a Ph.D before being discovered looking over excited  and shouting Eureka by a civil servant
The PM is  wondering what to do.I recommend her to go back to Oxford to read Socrates.She will have to learn Greek but it will be easier than BREXIT and better for her mind not to mention us

Stan wants a chamber pot for Xmas

New cats today

Cats by Katherine

Stan was recovering from his long feverish cold and cough.He had Emile standing on his desk under the window
cleaning it with a microfibre cloth fastened to his right front paw
Very good,Emile,he said in a husky voice.I think I’ll get up and make a hot drink.I feel better now than I did and I
enjoyed the Reith lecture on the radio.Mary came into the room wearing a long dressing gown with a zip front.
Where did you get that,Stan enquired jocosely.
It was hanging behind the door, she said.I must have bought it in a sale.I get almost all my stuff in sales.It makes it more of an achievement.
Buit are they really want you want,Stan enquired.
I am happy with them because I like bright colors but most folk don’t so they end up in the sale.I just bought
some pewter shoes for £29.99 when in black they were £79.99.
Will pewter shoes not be too heavy?Stan joked.
It’s the colour dearest.It’s a good colour for when we are going out in the evening to a do.
But we never do go out nowadays .he told her sadly.
I live in my imagination,Mary responded, and so I get clothes and shoes for any possible event funerals.weddings,evening balls.
The only b*lls you see in the evening are at home ,he murmured vulgarly.
I don’t think that’s very funny,Stan,she told him.I am a woman of gentle birth even if I was born in a coal mine.
I am sorry, dearest,my mind is not right since I fell out of bed and banged my head on that heavy tin chamber pot.
That’s a flower vase,she told him honestly and directly.We no longer use chamber pots now we have an en-suite here and a cloakroom downstairs plus an outside lav tooWell,I do.Stan said.I was brought up with one and I always use one at night
That’s strange Mary told him.Where do you find them?I have never bought any,not even in the Sales.
In the kitchen,Stan said.In the cupboard
Those are my baking bowls, she said crossly.
I forbid you to use them to wee into.
Well,will you buy me one? he asked her tenderly as he stroked her curly light blonde hair just washed in Boots
Dandruff and Acne shampoo. with Rosemary and Rose Essence
Of course,darling,if it wil; make you happy.I’ll go online.I am sure they are still made though originally they were used when people had outside loos.
That can be my Xmas present,he joked,if you pay for express delivery but don’t have it gift wrapped.
Adulterous Annie their neighbour came in.She wore a grass green trouser suit and pink calf high boots.Underneath she had spanx hip and thigh control pantees and a blue lace bra which peeped out as she forgotten to put a blouse or jumper on despite the cold weather.
What is that, in your hand,Annie ? Stan asked thoughtfully.
It’s a pewter chamber pot that we inheritied from my granny she said
Gosh,how amazing,it’s just what Stan needs,Mary informed her.He’s been using a vase..
That is very naughty,Annie told him.You should know better
NaughtyThat’s strange word to use.I am a man.I can do what I want.You’ll see.
But can you want what you do,Mary asked like an Oxford don on low dose speed.
I can if I choose to ,he said.
So do you believe in will power? Annie asked curiously.Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t, he replied ambiguously which was one of his defense mechanisms when he was with very clever women.
I see,you twist the world around your little finger.
That’s a strange parallel,Stan told her.But parallel lines on the earth’s surface do meet at the Poles which proves
that Euclidean geometry is not the only sort possible.
Why is that?Annie asked,though she had no idea what he was talking about
Because one of Euclid’s axioms is that parallel lines never meet .
It sounds a bit like men and women nowadays,Stan said thoughtfully.We will only meet if we go up the pole
I wonder what the origin of that phrase is,Mary said curiously.It’s a strange world.
Meanwhile Emile finished the window and was polishing the dressing table mirror.What luck for Mary and Stan
that Emile loves microfibre and Windolene.Next they are hoping to buy him tiny vacuum cleaner… that would
help to gather up all the dust from the floor and let Mary get on with her book
Mirrors and the development of the child’s theory of integers and meta-language as hypothesised by
Jack Lacant. Part 2z

How like a winter by Wm Shakespeare

How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December’s bareness everywhere!
And yet this time remov’d was summer’s time,
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime,
Like widow’d wombs after their lords’ decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me
But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.
  • Related

Xmas food– don’t buy a pie

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Pies from  a cheaper supermarket labelled chicken have got fish in.Pies from  another labelled chicken have small pieces of plastic in.Don’t end up in A and E trying to explain why you have plastic coming out of your bum or even worse, you may be dead from choking before the plastic enters your digestive system.
If you still eat pastry, make your own pies.It makes me wonder who makes the pies and where.Is it a protest by underpaid wage slaves in some Asian country?

A winter day describe

Grey, damp, dark, a winter day describe,

Though sunshine comes  with  white and wintry frost.
While on my paper, curving shapes inscribe
The alphabet I learned at childhood’s cost.

Humankind can’t bear too much of night
Hallucinations,dreams, symbols confused.
We like the sunny sky where birds take flight.
In warmth soft air, our tension are defused.

Accepting night is one of our sad tasks
Light and dark need balance in this world
In the light of sun. our sorrow’s masked
We feel false ecstasy as colours swirl.

God created light and darkness first
Their divided unity is blessed

Another way, a place,another mind

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From time and place and season I am lost,
Disorientated ,missing tracks well worn.
Do not suppose I’m unaware of cost,
Nor label me with epithets of scorn.
For usual paths lead to the usual place.
The safest way to live and perhaps to die,
But wandering through the woods I find new space
and in wild grasses with the fox I lie.
Through distant trees, I see a way to go
As narrow as a slit in  pale limestone.
I pass in silence as if in deep,deep snow.
My courage rises even as I groan.
Remember when we’re lost ,we may then find
Another way,a place,another mind.

In the space

In the space where you are not, I am.
I, the symbol of your love and  hate
Closer to your soul  than a wing-span
Closer than the time  our lives began
I the woman you the other, man
This our destiny or common fate
In the space where you are no more than
I, the object in your love’s estate

rr

In the mystery

I miss his warmth and lying in his arms
I miss the conversation we enjoyed
Hidden in the mystery of demise
Wondering if he had a different choice
The truth will help us more than clever lines
I miss the animation in his voice
I miss his warmth,my dwelling in his arms
I loved the silences we both enjoyed

About faux Xmases, who can belong?

About our Xmas, we are always wrong
Old resentments rise like mist on moss
Yet we may enjoy the Xmas songs

On the Northern hills my heart belongs
There is too much space for me to cross
About this season, we are often wrong

See the family bare their human fangs
Anger is a stand in for our loss
Yet we may enjoy the Xmas songs

On the wall, the Xmas cards all hang
On the pathm we see the patterned frost
About this season, admit we are wrong

“Stille Nacht” the warring armies sang
What remains is less than what was lost
We are saddened by such carolled songs

On we eat,regardless of the cost
And the tons of paper and of waste
About a Xmas, we are sometimes wrong
Yet we must enjoy the Xmas songs

What to consider when writing a poem

Oxford2017-3
Oxford

7 Ingredients You Need to Consider When Writing Poetry

“What are you trying to say?

The message of your poem is the most important part.

The message of your poem is the most important part. CLICK TO TWEET
It could be something as simple as your love of cupcakes, or it could be something more complex, like a relationship. Whatever it is, your message should be clear without stating the obvious or patronising the reader.

You can use visual language in your poem to explain to the reader what’s happening without making it blindingly obvious.

The layout of your poem can reinforce this message further…

2. Form/Structure
The structure of your poem can be as influential as the grammar, punctuation and language.

What will your poem look like on the page?

Will it be a concrete poem? Will the length/shape of each stanza enhance the poem in any way?

Think carefully about how the poem looks on the page. A poem—particularly a concrete one—can be as visual as a piece of art.

If you’re not sure how to lay your poem out, experiment with different forms. What you’ve written may work better as a concrete poem, or it may fit a more structured layout, like a sonnet. A strictly structured poem looks very neat and tidy, but if you’re writing about things falling apart, it may not be the best layout to choose (unless you’re being ironic).

Some poets have their preferences for particular structures, others prefer to write with a lack of structure.

Write to whatever form fits your poem and writing style the best. It may take you several drafts of a poem to find the right form for it, but that’s ok! “

Every day ritual

Oxford2017-2

http://www.coffeeshopsermons.com/blog/everyday-ritual-grieving-creativity-and-poetry

 

 

“Poetry and Grief

“Poetry is spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” –William Wordsworth, Lyrical Ballads

There are not many emotions that can overflow as spontaneously and powerfully as grief. Often, grief will linger with us. Other times, it catches us off guard. The poet William Wordsworth knew this, losing three of his children when they were still young, and much of his poetry grappled with issues over loss and grief. Through poetry, Wordsworth found a medium to express his feelings, becoming one of the most celebrated poets of his time. We, too, can find creative ways to express our grief. Poetry is an effective form of artistic expression for grief and loss; it allows us to put our feelings into words, words that are not as necessarily contained by sentences and grammar but free flowing.

Poetry comes in many forms—from the sonnet to the epic poem. Some poems focus on having a particular meter or rhythm to how the words flow, some poems focus on rhyming words. The three forms suggested here are free verse, rhyming couplets, and the haiku; however, feel free to experiment with forms that come naturally and flowing for you.

A good resource on the different forms of poetry and how to write them can be found on the internet (see poets.org’s article on poetic forms–the website has a menu you can select from with over thirty different forms of poems and examples of each).

Free Verse

Free verse poetry is just what it sounds like. It is free from the constraints of any kind of meter or rhyming scheme. Instead, one is free to just let their thoughts and feelings flow out in written form. The free verse poems tend to follow a natural rhythm of human speech, with line breaks often appearing at natural pauses (like where a comma might normally appear in prose text). Especially for beginning poets, the free verse form may be helpful in just getting one’s thoughts from their mind to the page without having to worry too much about form. The ultimate goal of a poem is up to the poet, but many poems seek to express feelings or thoughts in unique ways, using metaphors or comparisons. Others try to capture a moment or a memory in words. The free verse is an ideal form to capture

How to write a free verse poem:
There are many ways to begin writing a poem. Some begin with a technique called “free writing,” where they just start writing without any plan or purpose and see what comes of it. If you are having difficulty trying to think of what to write about, perhaps try some free writing—clear your mind, put the pencil or pen to paper, and just write. Don’t be concerned about spelling, grammar, or sentences, don’t erase or cross out, just write until the well of words is empty. Then you can go back to what you wrote and pull words, phrases, or ideas out of what you have written to create a poem. Others will start with an image, memory, emotion, or thought in mind and work towards a poem that way, by focusing on that particular idea as they write the whole way through. Some might write a poem to eulogize a loved one, listing their loved one’s attributes, accomplishments, or their memories of that loved one. Know this: there is no right or wrong way to write a free verse poem, no set length or anything else. Give yourself permission to write whatever comes to mind. After all, you can always go back and edit it later.

My favorite example is Ysaye M Barnwell’s “Wanting Memories,” which you can find here.

Rhyming Couplets

Poems with rhyming couplets are perhaps the most widely known form of poetry, and I would argue is what most people think of when they think of a poem. Poems with rhyming couplets do not necessarily have a set rhythm or meter. The focus instead is on the rhyming of the last words of every two lines. These lines are always rhymed in a pair. For example, William Shakespeare ends the play Romeo and Juliet with a rhyming couplet: “For never was a story more of woe, / Than this of Juliet, and her Romeo.”  Similar to a free verse poem, the lines can be as long or as short as you like. You can choose to have a meter to your poems or not, the important part of this form is making the lines of the poem rhyme in pairs. Rhyming poems help give the poem a memorable lilt as each line rhymes with the one directly before it or after it—think of many songs that rhyme.

How to write a poem with rhyming couplets: 
You can start just like before—by doing a freewriting exercise to help center your thoughts. You can also begin by thinking about the subject of your poem and go from there. When you start writing the lines of your poem, be very intentional of the word you want to end your line with, noting if it is easy to rhyme with other words, and if there is a word that it rhymes with that will help continue to move the poem forward.”

Time

Do we wait for hints from other Realms?
Though hints can be  confusing to the dead
Oh, let life run  like seas that overwhelm

We first look after those who are  becalmed
As hints can  be a nuisance when unfed
Do we care for hints from other Realms?

Spiritual  rules become embalmed
And hints fill shyer people with deep dread
As does life  with seas that overwhelm

Was our life an accident designed?
Do we want our hints  to be unread?
Do we share our hints from other times?

What is compassion  worth when  life’s unkind?
Where are the arms that opened when we bled?
What is life  that seas  should overwhelm?

What is life  for those who have no bed?
Sacred are all children  underfed
Do not wait for hints   and special signs
The  little voice  beneath the noise calls time

e

 

Love Bade Me Welcome – from Love (III) by George Herbert

 Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back.
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack’d anything.

A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungrateful? Ah, my deare,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.

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Behind glass… a defense

caught-red-handed-2

Have you ever felt you were behind a pane of glass? I did once many years ago after a friend committed  suicide.It must be a protective  condition but it is painful and odd.Everyone else seems ok ,you imagine,but you are not a part
.In reality many people may be feeling like you do and putting on a performance while out at work or socialising.We are probably wiser as we grow older as we know more people better and see we are not  unique in our suffering and pain; we know that feelings pass,even the worst ones and we may have become better at judging others and knowing if friends die  by suicide it’s probably not our fault

When one feels that way it has to be accepted for the time being, like all feelings,I found reading poetry helped me and also being with others in a group where I could sit and listen without pressure to speak.I like this poem from then.It was a favorite  of Simone Weil,the mystic.

LOVE BADE ME WELCOME  by George Herbert

 

 Love Bade Me Welcome – from Love (III)

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back.
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack’d anything.

A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungrateful? Ah, my deare,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.