https://www.oed.com/dictionary/earshot_n

Leonard Cohen On Psychotherapy

One notes that psychotherapy is not part of the joke. As Cohen told Stina Lundberg in a 2001 interview:

I don’t trust them [psychological explanations]. As I say in that song: “I know that I’m forgiven, but I don’t know how I know; I don’t trust my inner feelings, inner feelings come and go.” I think that psychological explanations can be valuable and that psychotherapy can be valuable for some people, but the fundamental question of how and why people are as they are is something that we can’t penetrate in this part of the plan, that we simply cannot grasp, and the feelings that arise – we don’t determine what we’re going to see next, we don’t determine what we’re going to hear next, taste next, feel next or think next, we don’t determine, yet we have the sense that we’re running the show. So if anything is relaxed in my mind it’s the sense of control, or the quest for meaning. And my experience is that there is no fixed self. There’s no-one whom I can locate as the real me, and dissolving the search for the real me is relaxation, is the content of peace. But these recognitions are temporary and fleeting, then we go back to thinking that we really know who we are.

And he told another interviewer in 2001:

For one reason or another, I didn’t have any confidence in the therapeutic model. Therapy seems to affirm the idea unconditionally of a self that has to be worked on and repaired. And my inclination was that it was holding that notion to begin with that was the problem — that there was this self that needed some kind of radical adjustment. It didn’t appeal to me for some odd reason.

Asked if he had tried psychotherapy, Cohen told another interviewer,

I preferred to use drugs. I preferred the conventional distractions of wine, women and song. And religion. But it’s all the same.

For the record,

Cohen did go to a therapist once, actually — out of desperation. He was so depressed that he called a friend and asked if she could arrange for him to see her therapist straightaway. Then he drove to St. John’s Health Center in Santa Monica “at about five miles an hour,” barely able to negotiate the traffic. When he got there, the therapist asked him to describe his feelings. After Cohen had finished, she said, “How can you stand it?”

We went to Richmond one bank holiday

With visions of a boat upon the Thames

One way or another men must pay

When we seek  a Richmond  holiday.

When we are alone what shall we say?

We don’t know until the bitter end

We went to Richmond one bank holiday

With visions of a boat upon the Thames

https://www.thetimes.com/article/152336fa-eed9-43e7-9979-429fd833a62a?shareToken=7547fde5add7c20c020df4e96a5f71d4

’ll go to Sodom Gomarrah

I’ll get some prayers; rite after death.. whose

I go to Confession; it’s smashin’

I wish we could still buy “Indulgences”

Oh, God, be fair to aged present!

Give me oil for my lamp, keep me burning.

Is desire a sin, and for ” whom”?

We should meet others without memory or desire especially in a “brothel”

He asked for a whore more in bed. I think that’s a misprint

Can’t get up, tired.

Speaks bad English

I am now a ” sinner” having committed more than 1,000 sins right here on my blog pages.

They are called posts officially But we all know about mass deception and wholly disunion.

J

Against sadness:no-one here can weep
Nor lounge about in melancholy deep.
Was Van Gogh senseless to permit his muse.
For his masterpieces ,was the price too steep?
We see the yellow chair but not his views
Nor his mind where technique made such leaps.
Nor was his journey broadcast on the news.
Against sadness.

Happiness or joy is hard to find
When we rest, the News preys on our minds
Yet some are cold towards the slaughtered priest
His nose a beak of bone in old face lined
Now Muslims go to Mass and join Christ’s feast
Against sadness.

What rages in the mind make men kill thus?
In Syrian wars the innocents fare worse.
But these are our near neighbours so we weep
And wonder how to end the frightening curse
The sins we once committed hold us deep
We hold our hands out wanting to be nursed
Against sadness

I wish I were in Lancashire again

Pendle Hill, the pike of Rivington

The mountains of North Wales , the Cheshire plain

I will never climb, my legs are gone,

Dear home, the cobbled street my skipping rope.

The end wall of the house my mother’s face.

The tree she planted and her helpless hope

The love ,the feeling sad, the lost embrace..

I wish  I were in junior school once more

The powdered ink,, the brass the desks of oak

Children’s laughter to the sky can soar,

Skipping fast and how our arms would a àche

I wish I were a child and has no cares

I miss the. Freedom, bonfire night, the War

Mary had ordered all of her groceries but she forgot to put tea on the list So she sent Emile to the corner shop with a note tied to his collar Please give the bearer your best tea. Emile went off and managed to get into the shop after some children who were getting sweets with their pocket money or debit cards He went up to the counter and mewed, Mother has sent you a note. One of the children laughed Is your mother a girlfriend of Mr. Kumar? No, she is not, Emile growled with a loud throbbing voice Mr. Kumar led Emile behind the counter into his living room and spoke to his wife She asked Emile to sit down as she went into the kitchen and poured him some tea from her China teapot .Do you want it on a saucer, she enquired thoughtfully? Yes, please, said Emile. This is very kind. He leaped onto the rug and began sipping the Ceylon tea. This makes a change, he murmured. I didn’t know you could just walk in and get free tea! After a few minutes, the shop door crashed open and he heard Mary’s voice Oh, Mr. Kumar, I am so stupid. I sent Emile out to buy some Twinings tea and he has not come home! What shall we do? She started crying and dabbing her eyes with Stan’s hanky. Come through, he whispered politely. Do not weep, dear. All is well Mary came in and saw Emile drinking his tea and winking at Mrs. Kumar. Emile, you stupid cat. I was going crazy worrying.I’ll strangle you! Is it my fault, he replied. I only gave them that note you sent. But is it not obvious what I intended? she said plaintively These days you never know, the cat muttered. I try to be obedient as far as I can. Mrs. Kumar came out and gave Mary a cup of tea. Sit down, dear. Worry is so bad for you. Why did you not phone us? Since it was just a packet of tea I thought Emile could carry it. He is very intelligent normally. Yes, I am, thought Emile as he looked at Maisie, the Kumar’s lovely cat who was asleep on a chair. I wonder if I can wake her up, he asked himself. Does she drink tea? Would she like to start a family? It’s not too late for me to become a parent. Maisie opened her eyes What’s that cat doing here? I only came for the tea, Emile told her. But you look very beautiful. Shall we meet tonight I’m washing my fur, she told him with a smile How about tomorrow? Have you got a phone? No, he said, I’ll just caterwaul at dusk and if you are free I’ll be under the red maple tree waiting for you Good grief thought Mary. This cat is very cunning. Just one chance and he is making the most of it. Mr. Kumar gave her some tea and she wandered home in a daze after asking them for a drink on Sunday. My social life is looking up but there’s no-one who will hug me. If only Emile were bigger! His legs are too short!I should get a donkey instead

Dr Smith that lucky man.
Had a wife called Mary Anne.
He gave her children twenty two.
How ever did this woman do?

She had many helping hands
To take her children on the sands.
They swam in batches in the sea.
And then she took them home for tea.

She had triplets,she had twins.
She even had one set of quins.
So loneliness was quite unknown.
And all were trained to use the phone.

She was a very sturdy wife.
She worked very hard at life.
But once a week she went to town
And looked at bags and evening gowns.

But Dr Smith did not go out.
He was dusting , have no doubt.
At night they went to bed and loved
Just like a pair of turtle doves.

In the morning she rose up
And made some tea in a big cup.
She had a tiny chunk of time.
For such a one,this is no crime.

We all need a peaceful break,
To sit by our own inner lake.
To see the fish and watch the sun
As gold and glowing up it comes.

So if you have many children too,
Take heart from this small tale.
She took her time to meditate…
And her heart never failed.

For men may come and men may go,
and likewise children too.
You need to have some free “me time.”
Whatever else you do

My husband has dementia, can I ethically put him into a nursing home and move to the United States?

If you’re planning to move to the United States now it is you who have dementia not your husband.

Or perhaps you are not very intelligent.

Are you very wealthy because if you’re not  the plan is inconceivable.

Are you going to live with someone very rich in the United States who is in desperate need of a new wife? Be very careful.

Gazing down the green deep wild garden

I hear the birds making small private noises

Their little lives go on

They are happy unless their mate dies.

Geese can fly around for hours till exhausted searching for the one they have lost.

I like these small domestic sounds of birds or animals

No wonder cats want to eat birds, because the bird has got more free life than a cat has.

Imagine a cat’s family and their tame pet human shrunk to a suitable size by some magic potion like Alice in Wonderland.

Oh my little bird my garden bird I can’t see you but I hear you enjoying the evening sun

But no blackbird sings these times since they cut down the big tree.

If my hearing were better I would be able to hear even smaller sounds like the sounds of the worm pushing through the soil

Better than listening to the news.

We can’t get away from these articles I suppose we are living longer and so that’s increases the amount of time that we could the affected by cognitive problems

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2025/apr/30/the-experts-neurologists-on-17-simple-ways-to-look-after-your-brain?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

My heart was aching like a rotten tooth

I never felt such certainty before

Don’t believe me when I tell the truth

My heart was aching like a rotten tooth

Such a pity that the heart’s not loose.

The fearful pain the anguish at the core.

My heart was aching like a rotten tooth

But now my heart won’t ache, it is no more

I wish that every woman had the time

To put the washing out and make a rhyme

I wish that men could enjoy changing sheets

The strong and muscular all  fear defeat.

They tremble by the bed, their eyes go blurred.

Then they will pretend they do not care.

This is women’s work we are too weak

Men are not designed to deal with sheets.

The flat ones are not too bad to keep in place

But  the fitted bottom sheets make red my face.

They can pull the beer in barrels strong

But they can’t pull a sheet, there’s something wrong

Never mind there are no sheets in hell

But as your mother told you show don’t tell,

Surprised by  sun I hung the washing out.

Should  I have written poetry instead?

Yet this was a good thing I have no doubt

Surprised by sun I hung my white sheets out

And in my mind I heard my mother shout

Put that book down,, go and make your bed

Surprised by sun I hung the washing out

I wish I’d written poetry instead

https://shipwrecklibrary.com/borges/borges-craft-verse/

The sun pierced both my eyes and then my heart

Enjoyed itself and filled my soul with bliss

As light had to choose it chose that part

I received a gift I had not sought

in truth I must reveal I’d like a kiss

The sun pierced both my eyes and then my heart

Enjoyed itself and filled me with its bliss

On April 29th the sun shone through

The northwest  window where I  mostly sit

I do not feel that sunlight is my due

On April 29 the sun came through

Shone upon my face my eyes of blue

My heart leapt up and that was truly fit.

On April 29 the sun came through.

The  northwest window was indeed well lit

Down daisied fields sweet grasses grow

Down these green fields,I know,I know.

In unploughed fields where wild flowers blow

We’ll meet again,I Iove you so.

It was in the first soft summer light

I saw you standing by my side

I saw you by the drystone wall.

I never doubted you at all

When meadows bright all bloom again

I know we’ll see you coming then..

in sunny fields where wildflowers hide

I’ll know my love is by my side

Oh,come dear heart,do not delay..

We are not long till in the clay.

I’ll stand upon the beacon hide

And never rest,till you are near.

When flowering buds all open wide

When bees to poppies swiftly glide.

When your dear heart is pressed to mine

Our eyes will melt and souls combine. Oh,where are you,my dearest one?

All too soon our lives are gone

I gaze across the fields and hills.

As sunset-sky with flames is filled.

When buttercups and celandine

Beckon to me in my dreams.

When apple blossom fills the tree

I believe with love I’ll see.I’ll see.

When your world cracks open and  throws your body down
When your world evaporates and turns you into steam
When your world disfigures you and you seem like a clown
Don’t be quick to build again, there’s value in these schemes.

Many worlds are possible and here’s the pattern book
Don’t be hasty in your ways, better far to look
Fearful on the precipice and fearful on the hill
Fearful of the loneliness, yet cold lovers can kill

Stand alone on trembling legs and see  a different view
When you find your destiny, you feel renewed.
Everything is blurry now,  poor eyes cannot adapt
But when the legs get steadier, vision will correct.

No mother dear nor father strong can help you with their care
We must be quite separate for our new world to bare.
The world is new inside the gap where symbols grow and swirl
And across the sky above the stars dance all a whirl

Safety and security if taken on too soon
Lessen the alternatives and may lead down to doom
Courage to the child we are, courage in our hearts
In the forms now visible we will find new shape.

Less like armour plating,  more like pliant skin,
Fitting us externally and fitting the within

I am trying to get British gas to understand that I no longer use gas I’ve been doing this for several years with no success

Finally I got onto live chat

I am 72nd in line do you think I’m going to wait for a minimum of 72 minutes in a maximum of 720 minutes or 1440 minutes in order to tell them yet again that I do not use gas

While her potato was baking Rosa decided to wash her hair.The first thing she found was Persil Silk and Wool wash.She poured it over  her head and rubbed it in.Just then the new doorbell rang.Today it was playing Puppet on a string ,made famous by Sandy Shaw.She opened the door and found her fellow academic Charlie Blogge  outside.
What is that strange concoction on your head,he asked?
I am waiting for a thunderstorm to rinse it off, she admitted shyly.
Have you  no piped water,he asked furtively.
Yes,but I am on a meter.I save money by bathing in the rain, she said softly.
That explains a lot,Charlie thought
Do you use an antiperspirant?
Why are you asking questions, she said sheepishly.Do I smell?
He approached her gingerly and sniffed loudly.Delightful ,he cried.What is it?
Rose and wisteria water in a bed of lettuce…sorry, that is the menu for my dinner party.
Am I invited ,he asked gently? I can lay the table
It is  not a carpet, she said humorously.I am doing mock turtle soup which is a jelly and then lamb chops with mushrooms and garlic.After that ,I have decided to make a Russian cheesecake with almonds.
Why,can’t you buy any Russians in Waitrose ? Why did you decide on that?
I said,Oh Lord, where is the Penguin Jewish Cookery book and immediately it fell onto my head.It is quite small,luckily.
Wow, that’s odd he said  curiously Why did God do that  yet not kill Hitler?
We don’t understand.Maybe we can’t understand however he would not have dropped the North Korean cookery book onto my head.
What sort of food do they eat? Charlie asked
I imagine it’s rice and veg ,she murmured.
What a lovely voice you have, Rosa.It reminds me of High Force Waterfall in Upper Teesdale  in a drought
That is a very unusual compliment,Rosa cried anxiously
He bowed politely.It’s no more than you deserve, he responded.By the way, I  have decided to get married.
To whom, she asked curiously?
Can’t you guess, he teased her.
Animal,vegetable or mineral?
He took her in his arms and whispered, will you be mine?
As long as I don’t have to boil your hankies I shall accept on one other condition
What is that?
We buy a very big bed
Don’t you want to snuggle up to me? he asked rashly.
No,I want an electrified fence down the middle!
By gum, she’s gone mad, he told himself
You must  stop following Donald Grump. It’s all walls and fences
You are right she said, we’ll build a wall down the middle and then we’ll need passports before we make love.
Well,said Charlie,you certainly have some unusually  creative ideas.
And so say all of us.

 

 

Murder has been done and there’s a War
I’m the Lamb of God and he’s my Pa.

All the angels gave a gulping sigh
Jesus ,don’t go back, you go too far
Where’s your passport, where’s your alibi

Even Satan seemed annoyed and jarred
Take away those leaders and their Whores
There’s the Lamb of God and his old Pa.

What’s my crime ,sweet Jesus, should I lie?
The Market’s bust and you are going to die.
Where’s your passport, where’s your alibi?

We had a powerful sacrifice bizarre
We killed God and then we wore his Stars.
Where’s the Lamb of God,oh,ahaha!

The world is reddened by the blood of man
On the nursery slopes, this War began
Where’s your passport, where’s your alibi
I was the Lamb of God but where’s my Pa?

Now it’s not just odd socks that I find

It’s odd shoes, boots, coats I can’t remember buying.

The coats I can get rid of, but the shoes, suppose the other one turns up?

It’s best not to let possessions build up to this extent

Unless you have a shoe library and a filing system

When I went for my university interview there was deep snow on the ground and only had one pair of shoes so I had my interview with wet feet

They asked me how old cathedral was and I  had never seen one before.

When I got home my feet were saturated but my shoes had to be dried out for going to school the next day

One pair is not enough but how many is too many?

One day I saw a sheep that drowned

In the estuary of the River Kent

It lay with blank eyes on the dirty sand close  by the promenade at Arnside

The beautiful rivers are dangerous as is the sea.

Nothing can be perfect or lovely forever

But still the glory of my first vision will never leave me.

And the wildflowers and butterflies I still see in my mind’s eye

I would have liked to grow up in that freedom instead of the noxious industrial air in the mill town.

I can’t imagine heaven will be any better to me.

https://www.btf-thyroid.org/psychological-symptoms-and-thyroid-disorders

The cat’s tail curves,a question mark of fur.

He walks along the path  without a care

Happy in the garden long and thin

His feet caress the ground he walks upon.

He cannot lose this Eden by some sin

Underneath the maple tree red leaved

The sun makes patterns which the eye deceive

He runs about to play with leaves astray.

Enjoying the excitement of the fray.

I wish my heart was open to receive

My thoughts unlike the leaves won’t blow away.

So with my little cat I cannot play.

I wonder what the pain is in my head.

But I won’t leave the garden for my bed.

Yet with this contemplation I will pray.

I see that scene now in my own mind’s eye

I smile at first but then I start to sigh

Would that lovers died together well

In that little catacomb I dwell.

And  yet I do not wish to say goodbye.

Time and space are like a great wide plain

The past,though present, cannot live again.