The Guardian did a series of these which you can google if you wish.I find I like to know about how other people live and why they do as they do though we can never totally understand others especially between cultures
.But we all live and die like flowers
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2010/feb/23/michael-morpurgo-rules-for-writers
| synonyms: | courtesy, courteousness, politeness, manners, good manners, mannerliness, civility,decorum, decency, propriety, breeding, respect, respectfulness; More |
| antonyms: | effrontery |
| synonyms: | favour, approval, approbation, acceptance, commendation, esteem, regard, respect,preferment, liking, support, goodwillMore |
| antonyms: | disfavour |
| synonyms: | deferment, deferral, postponement, suspension, putting off/back, adjournment, delay,shelving, rescheduling, interruption, arrest, pause; More |
| synonyms: | prayer of thanks, thanksgiving, blessing, benediction
“say grace”
|
The worst mistake I made was that stupid, suburban prejudice of anti-Semitism. Ezra Pound
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/e/ezra_pound.html
http://www.instructables.com/id/How-to-Write-Poetry/step2/Blank-Verse/
Free verse neither rhymes not has fixed meter.Blank verse does have meter,often it is iambic pentameter… five beats to a line ,like a sonnet.But unlike the sonnet it has no rhymes.
The poet Ezra Pound was the person responsible for encouraging poets to leave fixed forms like the sonnet but now some poets and many readers have tired of free verse and of poems which appeal only to academics.There is a movement back to form
My own writing history followed that path.I wrote mainly free verse,partly because to write sonnets seemed very hard and almost impertinent for a beginner.But once I began I realized the pleasure of getting intense feelings into a shape.
If you want to write poems as a form of therapy, they say narrative poems are best for that.Are those called ballads narrative verse? Like Young Lochinvar…
I suppose people could it memorize better when few people could read or write.
Blank verse is harder to memorize
Blank
My neighbor locks her door with a brass key.
She walks by trees and gazes at the birds.
Onto a Western omnibus she mounts
To get to town to buy herself a man.
Or is it ham that she is in great need of?
For she is tired of men and needs no love
Yet ,even when alone, we need to eat
And, to ourselves ,we must in silence speak
I use the video camera on my laptop
To recite the events of every day.
I think this blank verse is quite dull
So I’ll have to write a different way.
Unblank
The leaves are turning red on my computer
The apples ripen better on TV.
But my friend says that red won’t mute her
So for a new blue coat, she makes a loving plea.
But as I only learned to speak in BASIC
I do not know if she will understand.
If I write a letter, she’ll deface it.
For my letters tend to be too bland
An email is a different sort of kettle
Not the type we use for boiling fish
So let the old men find their mettle
And get a frozen fish from off a dish
Toss it into Heinz baked beans a boiling
Let it simmer for a few more days
Then invite a friend for utter spoiling.
I’m sure she’ll inundate you with her praise.
Follow up with custard creams in gravy.
Serve the peanut butter on a tray
That’s what the folk eat in our great Navy.
Eat and eat and pray and disobey.
What seems like death,may be a new beginning
Not the beginning of what we had planned
But the beginning of what was hidden,only symbolised
It’s not the strength of the man, the father
It is the strength of women
Afraid,suffering ,lost, they carry their newborn across rough ground
The strength to enter an unknown future with no provisions
No,only life itself will carry them forward.And if they die
At least they have tried,unlike their men,The men who lusted
The men who have no care.What is one seed when they have so many.
Yet out of one seed a new being can grow.
Our plans are provisional and worry us
Already the supermarkets beg us to book our Xmas delivery.Don’t let an unknown person steal your slot!
We may miss out.Our minds are caught on these hooks
While we miss the great river.
Everything comes from a chance meeting of two beings who did not know what they were doing.
Unthought,unknown,but possible.And true.And impossible
Mary fed Emile on meat jelly.Then she went to bed and had a worse nightmare than she had ever had before.No doubt some News had infected her mind.
From a photo I took of my face in the autumn last year
She was heavily pregnant yet was walking alone through a grey desert full of rocks.And indeed it was utterly deserted with not even a building or a shack in sight..But suddenly her fear increased as she realised she was going into premature labour.A doctor appeared whose face was absolutely invisible.He delivered her child and then indicate wordlessly that it was dead.She lay back on the desert sands feeling full of grief after seeing him toss the body onto a heap of dead children nearby.Where these came from was impossible to know.
After a few days Mary realised that she would have to move on or she too would die but first she wanted to see her dead child.She walked acro ss and looked down.There was her baby… and he opened his eyes and gazed at her then smiled.Filled with shock and disbelief she picked him up and hugged him close to her bosom..
What should she do now without any help?Who would aid her?There was nobody there at all.Just the pitiless grey sand and the stony rocksSuddenly she felt a determination in her soul despite her terrors.She could not remain where she was or they would both die.So holding her baby tightly,she began her long and unknowable journey into their future on the other side of this grey blankness and grief
http://www.slate.com/blogs/quora/2015/02/25/why_is_poetry_difficult_to_understand.html
Her face ,half covered by her phone ,looks out
Some might know the brand , but I do not
So if she’s showing status,I shan’t pout.
For I don’t know which phones are truly hot.
Perhaps she’s shy and so withholds the whole
Yet she wants to show an image,just in part.
At least she shows more than a furry mole
A creature that likes living in the dark.
Sometimes there’s no meaning in an act
She shows a photo easy to upload.
Maybe she employs a certain tact
In hiding her own soul and its abode.
Interpretations,possible , exist
W scarcely know the clues we choose to miss
A number of people I know always wait for some younger member of their family to sort out their problems with smartphones,laptops etc.If I ask them why, they say they are no good at doing it themselves.But I think many of then have never tried to do it.The obvious way is to buy a book like say,Computers for the Older and Wiser.But then I heard a friend repeat several times that she can’t cook.I just don’t believe that someone could not cook anything at all.Maybe they are thinking of a Cordon Bleu level of skill.
But I see that if you have someone near you who can do all those things then you are unlikely to bother to learn them
Some people seem to believe that clever people know how to do things without learning them just as they believe top level musicians don’t need to practise.Of course ,some of us are quicker than others.But, if you really want to cook, you will learn.
The disadvantage of constantly asking your children to do things for you is you feel less intelligent than you really are.And you don’t seem to realize that to learn anything takes time.Remember riding a bike?
Since we all learn to talk except for babies born deaf, then we can learn other things
Perhaps it is a way to get your children to visit! And it stops people asking you to fix their gadgets
Anxiety is the price of life.
But don’t pay over the top.
Calmness is good at most times.
Dread is a bad friend.
Exploring nature soothes the soul
For what are we but part of it?
Gentle music helps the mind
However we do it,
Listening is a kindness to ourself.
Ink is the friend of the writer.
Judgment is another one.
Kindness is essential to the good life.
Lessons are available daily.
Money is necessary but not sufficient for happiness.
Needs are simpler than we imagine.
Oxygen is good for the brain.
Prayer is good for the mind.
Quality is hard to judge quickly.
Rest is often a good idea.
Tension inhibits ideas.
Work should involve play.
X- rated films are optional
Yes…You are a valuable person.
Z is the final letter
And life is an Art.
http://www.nytimes.com/roomfordebate/2014/07/18/does-poetry-matter/blasphemy-5
The poem ” blasphemy” is very good as are the comments.
The sun shone on Rosa Benchez ,as it had no alternative.She ran down the street in her yellow raincoat and a pair of gym shoes.Usually ,she wore a dress as well but times they are a changin’.She saw Mr Leonard Cohen walking across the road shouting,where is my blue raincoat?
Am I going mad,she wondered.Shall I call 999? Can you call 999 when you are running down Upper Street? What a pity she had no friends around to advise her.
Mr. Cohen, she said,I love your music especially, How many toads?
You are confusing me with Dylan,he murmured in a deep voice.
Well,I prefer you.Where is your Nobel Prose?
I write poetry mainly, he said shyly smiling his sheepish yet delightful smile.He certainly had good jaws.His top and bottom teeth met unlike Rosa’s.What did that signify?
Yes, she said.I know.I bought one of your books.
He suddenly began running into a pancake house and Rosa stood there wondering why he did not make a pass at her as his reputation was enormous..Perhaps he hates yellow on a woman, she muttered.Maybe he is depressed by the prospect a the next few years and yet he says his depression has gone and he has both his children nearby and grandchildren too.
But why is he here in Knittingham? she asked herself.Nobody has mentioned it.Why would he come here in late October?Why would anyone?
It is fruitless to think like this, she thought.Will anyone believe me?Suddenly she felt very sad and muddled .She took out her iPhone and rang 999.
Can you send Dave round to lower Upper St.I feel like I am going crazy.I am going into Mary’s house as seeing her and Emile might help.If not,Dave can advise me and have some tea too.
Certainly,madam, the clerk replied.Nothing is too much for your NHS.
You are very perceptive said Rosa.My name is Rosa Benchez by the way
I recognised your lovely voice.Thanks again for calling.
Rosa went up Mary’s path and rang the doorbell.When Mary appeared she said.
I am feeling very strange, so Dave is coming round.Will you make me some tea?
Of course,said Mary.Come in and talk to Emile.He fell into a pool of water so he is sitting by the fire.
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.Her period had begun.Do you have any female protection,Mary? she called.
From what?
It’s the usual.
Where is your handbag?I used to carry my protection in that.A gun
In my case a few tissues might help.
Oh I see,Mary murmured.Did you know you have no clothes on?
Oh, dear,said Rosa.Can you lend me an old dress?
Just stay there and I shall look after you
And so pray all of us,except Len as he does not know as yet.
You’re an egghead ,a nerd and a freak
I’m a brainbox,unfeminine ,a geek.
So we cannot get wed
Then ramble to bed
Our offspring face an outlook too bleak
They may go to the other extreme
Smoke pot and have marvellous dreams
Let’s say we’re autistic
Or another kind of mystic
Avoid cocktails and not shout nor scream.
I suppose feeling and taste we may lack
As we prefer numbers to be painted in black
And fearful infinity,
The uncountable divinity.
Is an 8 lying down on its back
Russell said maths had no sense
Though its priests may be over-intense
Cold as the Arctic
I read it,I marked it
Then I sceamed, Oh, Satan get thee hence
He wore a suit dark with discernment
He smiled as if laughter were tears
His eyes showed a hint of that moment
When one triumphs despite the fierce fears.
He sang with his lyrics lamenting
The blindness of unblinkered men
The grief made him almost demented
There was no one there to cry out,Amen.
They imagined he hypnotised women!
Oh, he had the magnetic eye.
But ,in a dark sea ,he was swimming
There was no father to say to him,why?
He saw through the layers of language
The word of god was conserved in new forms
Hearing it gave him great anguish
But deafness allows devilish harm.
It’s an illness to be sad when we lose;
We must stay calm and keep smiling along
Our defences keep out any muse
And ignore wilful acts and dark wrongs.
He drove alongside the river one night
And threw all his medications down there
“I weep as it’s getting so late.
If I go down ,I shall scream my own prayer”
He ‘s wry, melancholic and blue
He’s slight and he’s thin with fine hands
All of his lyrics are true
We can see his face carved by demands.
The Pope sings along.Or is it the poet?
They are waiting for our partitions.
It’s Purgatory.It’s cool
Hail glorious St Brexit.so bad for our isle.
Still,tarry a while…maybe you will tone down
Say but the word and my sole shall be heeled
Who mends shoes nowadays?
Popes don’t polish.No,they heal
And says God ,thou shalt Remain.
Is God in Europe still?That is surprise.
England needs a sovereign vagrant.
To God’s fear we will say naught.
My identity is being human.
I will wash your torn bare feet.
Jesus wants me to Remain here,
Far from Brexits so displayed.
Hail glorious St Spastic..dear saint for the Isle
That’s not pc.
How ironic can one get?
If I need to spend a penny ,
I agree that I have paid
Satire is dead.
And I tell you in this country
You are free to get eggs laid.
St Brexit,vexed it.
The Remains are away.Just for the Day
We like St Elastic best.St George was a Turkish Jew or Roman
.Jesus was a Jew too. 160% or so.
What, a coincidence?
I have paranoia now.Is there a vaccine?
Hi,Maxine.Come on in, we are eating our words tonight.Welcome
It is a truth totally unacknowledged by human beings that Professor of Linguistics and Word Mismanagement Rosa Benchez hates her own name.It is for this reason, she is keen to get married.Unfortunately ,her only suitor is Charlie Blogge. the well known TV biology expert
Does Rosa Blogge sound any better, she asked her friend Amy Panicker.
I find it hard to judge ,Amy answered. Ar least it’s not Bloggess.But there is another answer.
Rosa and her cat Lucy looked up expectantly.
Go on tell us!
Change your first name.Have you got any other name besides Rosa? Don’t say Wooden or Iron,I beg you.
Rosa looked surprised.
In a way that is harder emotionally,she began, because that’s what all my friends and family call me
They must have been dim to call you Rosa,Amy cried.
Don’t say that.Who wants to be compared to a lightbulb?
Well ,who wants to be compared to rows of benches? Amy retorted.
Well.grandad was called I.Ron Benchez.Rosa shouted.He was from the USA.
Thank God ,he is not the President,Amy smiled
I think that is stupid.The name of the person has no bearing on how they can lead a government.
Well,how about Trump? Is it a real name or did they pick it from knowing the word trump from card games,Amy asked quietly
I have no idea,said Rosa.I shall look it up now
Wow, you have a new iphone!
Charlie gave it to me,Rosa confessed shyly blushing dark pink
You had better check whether he is tracking you, Amy told her anxiously.You never know what men will do nowadays.
But can’t you track folk on Samsungs or Nokia Lumias? said Rosa in her mellow voice.
I don’t think it is very romantic to give a lady a smartphone instead of some jewellery,Amy cried.You can sell jewellery but who wants a second-hand iphone.
As a matter of fact ,some old Nokias from the 90’s are now worth a few hundred pounds
So if you have one keep it unless your home is already overflowing with collections of pens,watches old newspapers and cats like my friend Percival’s,Rosa retorted.
Percival? what is his last name?
Joyce.Rosa whispered.He is related to the writer.
Rosa Joyce…. how does that sound?
Well as you know any word you keep repeating begins to sound odd and the same is true of names.Even the nicest name like Katherine With-Doubt begins to sound odd when delivery men ask you for it.
Are you with doubt? one had asked her, she told me
Who is without doubt she had replied courteously.
Who indeed said the clever Polish doctor working in the UK delivering stuff for AAmazing,dot com.He lives round the corner:Thom Without-Doubt
Thank God you are not called that.
Amy asked Rosa if she could make a pot of tea.They sat in the old orange walled kitchen eating cream crackers and cheese and sipping hot tea.
Lucy was eating some cat biscuits and suddenly had a good idea
Why don’t you and I swap names, she mewed to Rosa with a loving smile.
Do you know,said Rosa,I am so fed up with names I shall change mine to a number if we carry on like this
Do you think 678 Benches sounds any better,giggled Amy.
I was thinking more of a name like Platonic form or pyramid
How does Platonic Benchez sound. Or Platonic Blogge?
And so ask all of us.
How like a monster is my fear of pain Expanding to fill all my heart and mind Swelling like a giant sponge left in rain, This fear begets new feelings more unkind. For humans beings chased by lions fierce, Fear gives us the strength to dash away. But when by inner turmoil we are pierced We cannot run yet need not be its prey. Most strange ,we need to do what we most fear; Walk towards the pain with curious calm. As else we may be maddened like King Lear With no Cordelia to bring us balm. To feel in proper ratio to our pain. We need perception,grace and all their gains.
https://hbr.org/tip/2015/09/to-get-more-done-let-your-mind-wander
My mind wandered out of my body
And flew over the fencing next door
I saw with its eyes
Ten invisible spies
Lying on my old shed floor.
Sometimes we daydream of winning
The lottery or football pools
Selfishly dreaming
And following it scheming
Ia sensible only for fools.
But day dreams spontaneously flowing
Can bring us creative ideas.
Archimedes was in the bath
Andrew Wiles on a path
When genius became suddenly near.
I dreamed I was knitting a sweater
From the hair of my friends’ Russian cat
A pattern was given to me
With a big mug of tea
Till the cat leaped off me to chase a rat
It was a mouse that it chased round thr table
But mouse does not rhyme well with cat
So reality must alter
Or poetry will falter
While the cat sits benign on the mat
My doctor is sometimes sarcastic
But irony’s more of his mode
He looks at computers
And sits on the routers
What does this activity bode?
I lie when I say he’s sarcastic
He’s as well spoken as any nice man
I will not mythologise
Nor will I patronise.
I am kindly and therefore I am.
He says, you look well when I meet him
Crossing the waiting room floor
He is extremely civilised
Enigmatic, not horrified
When He gets up and opens the door.
https://www.vocabulary.com/articles/chooseyourwords/irony-satire-sarcasm/
Quote
Sarcasm is insincere speech. Your mom asks if you’re excited to start cleaning the kitchen and you say, “Yeah, right,” when you mean “Heck no.” Take this exchange from The Hunger Game
http://www.isitironic.com/ironiq.htm?IroniQ=4474
You can ask for a judgment on whether something is ironic.
Example:
I was having difficulty opening a small bottle of “liquid bandage” to protect a cut on my finger when I cut another finger on the cracked lid of the bottle?…
12
We may reveal more than we know when we talk about the weather and other safe topics
When I cannot tell you how I feel
When I want to see you ,not to speak,
I talk about the weather like a fool
Sometimes when I’m tired I feel unreal
Or life seems lost and meaning seems to leak
Then I can not tell you how I feel.
Some months have their winds to make misrule
Others throttle throats and freeze the cheeks
I talk about the weather ,as its cool.
We must keep moving or our blood congeals
So sheep must on moorland frosty, bleak
I don’t want to lie for life is real
When winter mocks our age I find it cruel
Yet you are old and for amusement look
I talk about the sunshine like a fool
Oh,happy snowfalls keeping us from school
As on the ice we tumbled with loud shrieks
When I cannor tell you how I feel
The weather stands for what I have concealed
From the article below
http://www.almanac.com/content/first-day-fall-autumnal-equinox
The British seem to be obsessed by the weather.But often that is because we need small talk and ,especially at the moment, we don’t want to talk about politics,Brexit,Syria, and other terrible wars and disasters.The weather has been unusual recently being much warmer than normal so that gives us simple to talk about when we meet neighbours in the street or at the bus stop.
But ought we do this when we are in some people’s eyes wasting time? Well,I think it is a good idea to talk to neighbours and people who live alone.Mind you living in the South of England I feel some of the ways people behave down here are shocking like inviting you to look at their holiday photos but not letting you sit down.And if you do sit down they can look put out.Then they moan about awful foreigners!I prefer the foreigners.
In fact ,I was treated as a foreigner when I came here.Even now people ask me where I come from.I think I’ll say China next time
http://www.newstalk.com/What-makes-a-poet
This is a difficult question nowadays when most poetry id free verse and often incomprehensible to many people.Anyone can call themselves a poet thought ironically the best ones may not.
