Author: Katherine

Poetry writer and author

Why I’m Not “Good People”

Extract:To me, it’s a sign of trust, to tell someone when what they did or said hurt you. That’s not a thing you tell people when you think they won’t care. Or worse, will use it to hurt you more.

jennygadget's avatarJenny's Library

I’m not a nice person.

I’m not a good person.

I’m not a kind person.

This isn’t to say that I don’t ever try to be any of these three things.  I do, especially the last two.

It’s more to say that, for me, surviving in this cissexist, racist, ableist, heteronormative, classist, often fucked up world of ours has involved rejecting the idea that “good” and “bad” are static states of being.  I will never be a “good person” because, to me, “good” is not something that you achieve.  It’s an ongoing process that never ends.

It is, in fact, almost impossible not to be doing bad things as well as good when you are human and therefore flawed.  Especially when you are part of a messed up system, as we all are.

This, to me, is why it’s important to call out bad behavior, or hurtful language, or even…

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Go and put the skittle on the st*ve.,St*n advised her decently

You are too prissy,Mary,Stan told his dear wife.Everybody uses four letter words now except you.
What is so special about four letters,she replied mathematically.
I’m not sure quite why;it’s an historical accident ,said St*n thoughtfully*
Is it because they are expletives s h*ve to sound like bullets being fired.For example
“F*ck off, you old sh*t bag”
Sounds different fr*m
“Kindly go away,old thing.”said M*ry wonderingly.
That is true,said her 98 year old husband with a snigger,
So why do you want me to swear?
Well,now you have a tablet computer and a chromebook you need an i phone and you need to talk like the young do as w*ll.
I phones are very expensive and you know me,I’m cr*p at finding where I leave the f*cking things.
Now,Mary,control yourself.I am your husband
What the h*ll has that got to do with it.
You should be very n*ce to me.
So whom do you w*sh me to swear at?
I’m not sure.Maybe when you sing in the kitchen you could alter the words of the songs..
As I waltzed out to f*ck at 8 pm
The lambs were coming home and sucked my thumb
I heard a neighbour complain of all this cr*p
So I’m going to Waterstone’s for to buy a new m*p
Something wrong with the meter h*re methinks,said St*n.
And somehow,swearing does not seem to blend with your personality and gentle quiet nature,M*ry,darling.
Cut the cr*p.It’s too la*e now.I’ve become addicted.
But how many f*ur letter words are there?I might find it limiting.
Some fourn letter words are not swearing
like
t*me,k*nd,w*nd,fl*ff,hair,l*ps,n*ps,tw*t
but some are like
f8ck,sh*t,cr*p,tw*t.
So twit is ok at your age but twat is not,the demure old l*dy replied.Anyway don’t you kn*w any m*re?
D*mn!
Perhaps we’ll h*ve to buy a b*ok and learn s*me new ones but to wh*m shall we say them
Would your mistress,Annie kn*w?
Well,I can ask her.
But is it sensible?
If women w*nt equal rights it’s not the s*me as being compelled to use words that only workmen us*d to use.
It’s like saying we can’t have public conveniences for women;they will have to use the gents!
What will they use the gents for, one of them queried.
For sensual gratification and relieving tension.
Is it legal?
Anything is legal as long as you d*n’t h*ve to pay!
That reminds me of Russell’s Paradox.
Oh,my God,don’t say you are on to Russell now!
It’s m*re l*ke he is on to me.
Whatever do you m*an,St*n said.
He is trying to invade my m*nd.
Well,make it password protected!!
How do I do th*t?
Go online and f*nd out.
Perhaps we can password protect yo*r tongue to st*p you saying all those words like tw*t*
But I don’t w*nt to st*p.
In that case you must invent some m*re or th*y get boring you see.
Flaff off you crum!
Eff doff you runt!
Don’t you leak to me like trat
Why egger nuts?
Clean your organ in the mawnin.
What is so runny about swap?
Goody bell,the vicar is b*er!
Lie down and he won’t bee us on the door!
It’s very dirty down h*re.
Get the vacuum out!
The vacuum is clean,it’s the carpet that’s full of nap!
I blame you,
For what?
Basting my rhymes in divine.
Well,it’s time for our wee now.
Go and but the skittle on the stove.
By George,I feel terry funicular!
I’ll put some neatener in your wee.
I’ll c*me here again!
Stop that askance!
Can’t I r*ke a glance?
Show you can pot?
Pot wh*t?
The wee pot.
You are very mod!
Blank you so crutch.
Puck off,it’s t*me for twerk.
Oh,my d**r!
It’s being so n**r.
wh*t m*kes ’em so d**r.

As unknown as the journey to your birth

Was this the apple,then,your mother’s breast,
Which father thought was his to oft caress?
And when,in deprived rage,you bit to test,
In answering rage he vowed to  you harass.

So then you learned that you could hate as well,
For punishment struck hard in your small heart.
Your memory was unworded,could not tell;
Though pain and anguish made your soft skin smart.

As unknown as the journey to your birth
As shocking as the grief of unmeant wrong..
As frightening as the gauging of your worth
As sudden as the ending of a song.

Impossible to foretell or to prepare;
The  ambivalence of our love is hard to bear

How to know if you are not mad

Dotty cats 3

“And how do you know that you’re mad? “To begin with,” said the Cat, “a dog’s not mad. You grant that?” I suppose so, said Alice. “Well then,” the Cat went on, “you see a dog growls when it’s angry, and wags it’s tail when it’s pleased. Now I growl when I’m pleased, and wag my tail when I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

The link between depression and creativity

http://creativesomething.net/post/55508909341/the-link-between-depression-and-creativity-7211732_f260

We’d prefer not to have it but there may be evolutionary reasons for depresssion.It may serve a purpose but it shouldnot go on too long.Gwyneth Lewis the national poet of Wales has suffered severe depression.. read her book,sunbathing in the rain.It’s very good

The article  I have linked to above is well worth reading when you have some energy… who knows where it may lead?

The fertility game

While girls are born with ovaries replete
And only must each moon let one release
In contrast men are fast and incomplete;
So many sperm are fighting for their feast.

The overspill of nature ,profligate,
condemns vast numbers daily to their death.
And of the one success, men may debate
Of whom is father to the new born breath.

Why this abundance and this frequent loss?
How nature provides much in rich excess;
Is even pre-conception a mere toss?
Shall chance favour the slower much the less?

While men pour out their wealth and are filled up,
Women wait with patience for one drop

How seven famous people overcame depression without doctors

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I have nothing against doctors except they don’t always know that much about any one topic and some are not good with what they call mental illness, which I think is partly caused by modern society and individualism and people moving around for economic reasons; also working too much.And loss of meaning in one’s life.And shame.

http://brucelevine.net/how-7-historic-figures-overcame-depression-without-doctors/

This is fascinating.I see Abraham Lincoln believed his life had an important purpose.Maybe all our lives do ,even when we may not know what that is.So we must not give up and moreover we should be more tolerant of other’s occasional bursts of pain and anguish.
This writer Bruce Levine is worth studying if you have the time… He believes we should all get more engaged with society and be less passive.
Nature is a great healer and one people in cities may miss out on.
In the North we had the heather moors

Good will prevails

  • How does your handwriting look now-
    Like an inky beetle crawling across white paper
    following a map or wandering haphazardly
    Across some page?

    From colored inner space come different dreams,
    And images swimming within inner seas,
    But, essentially, it’s love that fills our hearts,
    Directs the movements of our hands.

    Yet love can twist,stretch, bend and snap.
    Sometimes love fails,
    Sometimes love wounds,
    Sometimes love gives pain Oh,no!
    Oh, my sweet Love…

    But deep inside,good will prevails.
    Good will come again..
    I do not doubt.
    Don’t doubt,my love.

Laughter with Latin phrases

ImageI

I never know what clothes to wear
I wish I could socialise bare
A capito ad calcem
I know not to waltz in.
So shall we stay in and play fair?

“A capito ad calcem” means ” from head to heel”.

So you can see capital punishment probably meant beheading

How to bake and eat cake : In the kitchen with Stan and his pals

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    Stan had decided to do some baking.

    The larder was empty
    the cupboard was bare
    he looked in the cake tin
    but nothing was lurking there

    Stan had flour,eggs and sugar and of course milk and butter.Emile was under the table waiting for something to drip out of the bowl!He loved baking days.
    Stan had bought a load of blackberries in the market so he was thinking of blackberry tarts,blackberry crumble..
    He picked up the bag which seemed very heavy.Putting his hand in …..he pulled out a Blackberry!

    He went to the market
    to buy me some fruit
    and now he’s got Blackberries
    he’s going to shoot!

    Annie his next door neighbour was coming to the back door.”What’s up ,Petal?”

    “Oh,dear.I seem to have made a category error.”Stan answered philosophically.”Well what category would you put me into?” she asked petulantly.
    “Why are you so egocentric ?Not everything is about you!”He said fluently.
    “Well if I’m narcissistic it’s because my infant grandiosity was ruptured too suddenly and I was not held and contained in a suitable manner.”
    “You’ve been reading that Wilfred Bion again.” Stan said admiringly.”No,not just him.It’s some American chap as well .Would you like to read it?”
    “No,thanks,I’m finding Julia Segal is more than enough for me.I find Bion is a bit too mystical.I don’t think I can approach you without memory or desire.To be honest,without memory or desire I wouldn’t want to approach you.”
    “Wow ” she said stupidly,her large green eyes staring avidly upon him inviting him to fall into their salty sea like depths.
    “Shall I ring 999?I can’t think of anything to say.I’m lost for words.”

    “Perhaps you have reached that mystical spot beneath language mostly only known to babies,the mad, or meditators?”
    “well,I do feel a bit of madness today.”
    “Is that why you have purple and orange eyeshadow on clahing with your alarazin crimson lipstick and your light beige, but not too light, foundation by Lancome of Brixton and Blackheath,Paris,Rome,and London?”
    “I suppose so.” she replied indifferently.I feel as if I’m behind a glass wall.”
    “Oh,don’t worry.That’s the new window!” Stan explained courteously.”You really are behind a glass wall.”
    “You’ve been reading schizoid processes again on Yahoo,”
    “Yes,” she admitted her face blushing violently.”It’s those new people who’ve moved in across the road.They are both psychoanalysts so I wanted to feel up to their level of knowledge.”
    “I didn’t know they were psychoanalysts.How did you find out?”

    “Well,first of all,there were two large sofas, and then hundreds of knitting needles and a lorryful of wool.And I thought,”Hello,hello,It must be one of Anna Freud’s followers.”
    “So have you met them?” he asked laconically?
    “Yes”,she confessed animatedly .I went over and said,
    “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”
    “And what did he say?”
    “Are you all mad round here?”
    “So I thought,”You’re not getting hold of me that easily.””
    “So I said “I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m am an admirer of Melanie Klein,”
    “Oh,how did they react to that?”Stan quizzzed her jovially.
    “He was so rude.He said,

    “Are you telling me you’re a lesbian as well as a lunatic?”

    “Oh,dear.No wonder your make up is all running off your face and disappearing down your cleavage.Why don’t you pop upstairs and have a bath?”

    “Well it’s either that or ringing 999”
    “My self is totally divided.”

    “Into equal parts?” “I can’t say” she murmured.”Oh,well” said Stan “you sit there with Emile and I shall make a Victoria sponge and a lemon drizzle cake without the lemon…I’ve only got bananas and they don’t drizzle.

    “Why not adapt to reality and make a banana loaf?”
    “Is that wise?” Stan enquired.”Wise or not,it seems to make sense.” she whispered coyly.”Get a move on or Mary will be back on her Raleigh shopper bicycle and there’ll be no cake for tea.”Thank you,honey.”Stan replied.
    “I am filled with memory and desire.””And quite right too,”mioawed Emile from his basket.”I’m like that every night!””And so are all of us,”Annie twittered on one of Stan’s blackberries

Together

You play on the clarinet;

I play my old cello.

Your music is so poignant;

My music is mellow.

I can’t play from your music;

You cannot play from mine.

Our music must be transposed,

But will never sound the same.

I have longer fingers.

You have bigger hands.

You play some from memories

which I don’t understand.

I play from my own history,

You compose your own.

You have tortured feelings,

which I have rarely known.

Would you play my music?

Then it must be transposed;

but we can’t transpose our feelings,

Unless we are shown

By some blesses vision

From the dark unknown.

I love the music that you play.

I know well you love mine.

But can we play together

In some meaningful design?

Transposing keys and feelings

Is an arduous lifetime task;

Much easier to play pretend

and never,never ask.

I cannot share your lifetime hurts

and you cannot share mine.

Is it easier to share happiness

and love of the divine?

Oh,play your poignant music for me

with your meditative art.

I shall listen with my ears.

I shall listen with my heart.

Then I shall respond to you;

My instrument is here.

I am playing quite new music,

I feel you drawing near.

Together we are moved to play

A completely new design.

I seem to know your feelings

And I can hear that you feel mine.

Together we now make a work

For torment’s sweet relief;

Though this music is so tragic,

Its design has brought me peace.

Play on,play on,for now I know

I begin to understand,

without more words or gestures,

but those from your curved hands.

I have loved you

I have loved you and I’ve held you.

Many years,you have been mine;
If the time has come for parting
Let us embrace for one last time.

You know you have to leave me,

Though you desire a longer stay.

Let me hold you in my arms now

For just tonight and perhaps one day

Then I’ll watch you travel on,sweet.

We take this last step all alone.

I’ll be here beside you watching.

I shall feel when you are gone.

May you accept,may you surrender.

I hope you reach the promised land.

Into this earth my tears will fall, love,

As I recall your tender hands.

Lose control

Birth control

All I know is that diaphragms are a form of birth control.
I am puzzled by that because we all have diaphragms, yet some of us have no control of any kind.
If your diaphragm doesn’t move you can’t breathe so you can’t procreate.
No,you’d be dead!
A very strange form of birth control.
Maybe you can just faint and then your husband can have his way with you.
But would you want sex with someone unconscious?
It’s another case of a-symmetry.. a man can have relations with a faint woman but if the man faints that’s the end of it.
How disappointing.
I suppose you  might use a carrot instead.
Well,it would be a form of birth control.
And girth control.
How come?
Sex is exercise,isn’t it?
Being alive is exercise!
Keep moving in any way you can,.however irregular.
Regular is better…
But anything goes today.
Even carrots.
Control..you love  to lose it.

With utter willingness we live our lives

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Flower by Mike Flemming.Copyright 2015

I have edited this but have left the original poem  underneath as it is popular and I don’t want to remove it if some people prefer it that way.

The journey to the heart is  graced by love.
And those who need to seek obey their call.
Though virtue and her graces smile above,
We see steep paths ahead;cliffs’  sudden fall.

With willingness to cross  fields deep in mud,
To struggle through the tangled thorny wood.
Our soul within points to the latent good;
Recalls old trees astonished into bud.

As flowers spring up  to tantalize our toes
Encouragement is with much joy received;
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our souls were not deceived.

For Virgil,fortune favours steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet.

Old version

The pathways to the heart are blessed by love.
And those who truly seek will  never lose.
As virtue and her graces smile above
We see the hills ahead,the rocky views.

With willingness to cross the seas of mud,
To venture via tangled briar-filled woods.
Our soul within shows us the highest good,
When trees that looked quite dead are now in bud.

With flowers springing up  between our toes
Encouragement is ,with relief ,received
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our hearts were not deceived.

For Virgil, fortune favours those with steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet

Being of good will

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Definition of WILLINGNESS [ from Merriam Webster]

Cheerful readiness to do something [ plus ditto to feel or be something]

Thinking about the significance of “willingness” ,it comes to my mind that if we are asked to do something pleasurable we will not need urging.We will easily be willing unless we are masochists are have pressing needs that cannot wait.
So what is the significance of “willingness” when it relates to something unpleasant or painful we must do?I can imagine one scene where I ask someone to do a small task for me and though they are busy they are “more than willing” knowing my circumstances.But I ask a different person and though they agree there is a grudging quality about their doing what I ask.
Tn the first case we all feel joy when we know someone will go out of their way to help us and in the second we feel uneasy about asking that person and neither side gains much from the transaction.
Now turn inwards and imagine that you waken up feeling in poor spirits and moreover you do not like this.That is you are unwilling to feel the way you do.In my experience being unwilling in that way makes the spirits worse as we have secondary anger or depression about our state which can only make it worse.
Now think of the term “acceptance”.We can easily imagine that if we can accept a situation we can deal with it better.So a wife who finds her husband’s hobby is studying maths in the evening is going to have a problem if she believed they would spend every evening chatting together.The husband too has a problem that he may not have foreseen when he was madly in love.He has to work out how much time he needs alone with his abstractions or whether it is an excuse not to engage with his wife.
The wife who finds her husband genuinely needs to study for lomg hours or he is unhappy will have to consider whether she can accept this as a way of life or whether she should seek a better partner because nowadays women want to have their needs met too,not to just beadjuncts to men.
If she accepts it and adapts then she may be happy.A problem rises if she keeps up a war with her husband,criticising and blaming him for his needs.I might say she can’t force him to talk to her as what value does it have when it is not spontaneous/
If people have good will towards each other then they can find away of living and respecting the other.
If we have good will towards our selves then we can accept and live with parts of ourself we do not like or parts which cause us suffering yet which cannot be changed and must be lived with.
If we don’t have good will  towards ourselves then life is much harder as we attack ourselves with criticism and deprivation of love.
I think willingness or good will is crucially important in human life though n doubt I frequently forget it! Ill will directed anywhere ou side or in harms both parties or splits the self and causes more deeper problems.
Of course it is hard to be willing to suffer painful emotions but what choice do we have?Only to find the best way or at least
“to be willing to be willing” as I describe it to myself.
Is willingness a virtue or a decision? Or an impossibility for some of us?

In a mitten

I mistook a photo of a mitten for a dress [true]

boy and girl

I went out in a mitten last night
I gave all the neighbours a fright.
They are collecting for me
To buy me some tea….
Now a tea bag would be a fine sight.

Or how about being dressed in some peel
Which off any banana I’d steal.
Then I’d give men the slip
As they slid off my hip
Some days I almost feel real.

All the winter coats are being sold off
As the autumn was not freezing or rough.
But I wear woolen vests,
Which keep off the pests.
Though men’s skin is still somewhat tough.

I am an attachment

Tulip

Tulip

Green woodpecker

Green woodpecker

Source: Mike Flemming UK copyright

Stan was polishing the door knocker with Duraglit. brass polish.

Mary was upstairs working at her desk reading an article on

algebraic numbers and sorting out her post.

She got an instant message from a former colleague in the maths

Department.

Hi,Mary.how are you?

I’m fine,Tim.How are you?

Well,I really miss the department!

I’m sorry.

Actually Mary,it’s you I miss.

But you hardly ever spoke to me.

No,but i looked at you.You are very beautiful.

Well,you are very handsome.

You know what I’d like?

No.

I’d like a photo of you in your underwear.

I haven’t got any photos!

Can’t you get some?

Well,I suppose i could use my webcam and photograph my top half.

Oh. how nice!

Then i guess I could sit on the photocopier and photograph my bottom
but I don’t think I can do them both at once.

How about you to to a pool in a bikini?

http://youtu.be/ICkWjdQuK7Q

I don’t wear a bikini.

I don’t mind if you are nude!

Well,I am a bit startled by this.I thought all we shared was an interest in quadratic forms.

Well,I’ve moved on to your form,Mary.

Well,you know I have Asperger’s Syndrome.

I thought he looked lonely.

Do you know him?

Not in the Biblical sense!Just to speak too.

I thought he was dead.

Not at all…he’s turned into a parrot.Meanwhile how about some minimalist photos?

No,,you’ll have to meet me in Cafe Zero.

Which one?

In Knittingham.

Will I recognize you by the bikini?

Why do you like bikinis so much?

I’ll see what my therapist thinks.

I want to know what you think.

I love you,Mary.

Well,since Stan has Annie I guess I can have coffee with you.
Then we can discuss Platonic forms.

While I look at your form.

Is that my Health Form?

No,your bodily form.

I have no body now!

What happened?

I’ve been downloaded into the new computer.

I thought your voice sounded odd.

Shall I email myself as an attachment to you?

I’d like to think about that.

Well.goodbye Tim.

Goodbye,you little minx.

A minx…what next?

Bring me your minx,dill,dilly

Bring me your inks

when I’m in love,dilly,dilly,

I love those links.

 

Emptiness

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This is a preliminary attempt to examine the ideas about emptiness. I once quoted Lao Tzu
“Hollow vessels are useful by reason of their emptiness.”
But emptiness is not just one concept.
To make an initial point,our first notions of emptiness are related to the stomach.An empty one is painful to the infant who cries until fed.A full stomach then feels pleasant.
But a stomach can be empty in a good way….and there is a feeling of desire and appetite,So this can feel good.On the other hand there is the emptiness of a stomach which has just vomited up something bad and is reluctant to take in anything new for a while.hopefully desire will return.
Anxiety can take away appetite and keep the stomach empty when it needs to be filled with good food.If this continues we become ill.
Anorexics may keep themselves empty as a mistaken form of self control.
Ideally there is a movement between fullness and emptiness.We need to be empty for the right things.A woman may have an empty womb crying out for a child but by mistake she may fill up with food instead.So we need to know what we are empty for.
Empty headedness can be bad…if you have never received anything good into your mind like poetry,classic literature etc you will be a poor person indeed.On the other hand people get creative ideas when they are half dreaming,resting,in the bath and so on.
There is a little more space in the mind for a new idea to emerge.But the idea will have meaning only within a structure that is already partly there within the mind.
The answer to a writer’s block won’t come to someone who never writes.The block may be a creative void but it’s no good if one’s entire mind is a total void.
The emptiness needs a container.
We rush to fill out empty sad hearts when we feel we can’t contain them within ourselves,as holding them may be agonisingly painful.
Emptiness per se may not achieve much.But watch a new baby.They are looking and taking in both food and sensory impressions.And how the mind is growing,if conditions are favourable.
An empty table is no good to an empty stomach.A professor with no knowledge/learning will not give anything to the empty headed students to take in
Or biologically,the egg needs the sperm but the fertilized egg needs the kindness of the nurturing Womb and the ability of the woman to be there whilst development occurs over time……and for woman we could put artist or writer,speaking in metaphor.
My thoughts end now! A need for space has arrived

Symbols in the rain

So then you went away,
soft blue September day.
How love disappeared-
you suddenly weren’t here.
Losing you was not
An experience to forget
Earthquakes in my heart
Since we were drawn apart.
My heart in fragments then.
A jigsaw to begin
Now I am fresh born.
A stained glass window formed,
From fragments stuck with glue.
A pattern came anew.
My heart is tougher now
A strength within me grew
The way I had to go……..
Life’s deep river flowed
Only now I know…………..
Earthquakes in our hearts
We all know our parts
my life comes anew
Since I’m not bound to you.
New patterns can be made
From life’s colours and shades.
Not what I first chose.
I was one of those
Who planned my life ahead;
But what I got instead,
Feelings newly born.
When my own soul was harmed
Cracks let in the rain,
And I broke up again.
Not what I had planned
When my adult life began.
I don’t know where you are
But though you’re gone,I care.
I don’t hold on to hate,
As a terminal life state
I saw the ground split wide.
As I broke up deep inside.
What is in or out?
In pain,perception’s doubt.
From that fragmented state
My new self was made
Earthquake in my heart,
Love had made a start.
But patterns can be wrong.
That love did not stay long,
The pattern was destroyed.
Hate by heart employed
Made patterns subtly new.
I was sad that I lost you,but
Earthquake in my heart,
Gave me another start.
Stained glass window panes
Look through in the rain.
Stained glass colours glow
My eyes  light  and I know.
Stained glass in the rain
I will feel love again.
Stained glass colours glow
Inner light will show.
Earthquake in my heart
I’ll make another start.
Standing in the rain
Living through the pain.
Colours will now blend
And my heart will mend.
Earthquake in my heart
When my lover went
Earthquake in my soul
One day I’ll be whole.
Stained glass mirrors gleam
Life’s not what I dreamed.
Symbols in the rain
Symbols of shared pain.
Mirrors of my heart
Shattered into parts.
Bleeding wounds will heal.
This is how life feels.
Earthquakes in my heart
When my love departs.

Mary goes to the clinic

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Mary was sitting down feeling quite lonely in the waiting room  outside the doctor’s office when she saw Emile hiding under a chair..

What are you doing,she whispered.I’m glad of your company though.

I jumped into your cab, the cheeky cat informed her proudly

I want to be there when he examines you in case he makes vulgar remarks

Don’t worry,she answered,they always have a chaperone nowadays.

Just then a pretty young black nurse  took Mary into a room and said to her

Take off your underpants!

I don’t wear underpants,said Mary,but I can go home and get my husband’s if you want me to.

We use underpants as a generic term,the nurse informed her in a kindly  yet menacing voice.

Wow,they are so intelligent nowadays,I don’t think I knew what generic meant till recently Mary told herself stupidly

I have no underpants,Emile mewed. crossly

No and I am not making you any.I have quite enough washing to do already.Mary responded like a mother.

It’s not fair, said Emile.All my friends have underpants and T shirts too.

Soon the doctor came in and looked nervously at Mary and  then at her   female parts.

Mary was used to this but all of a sudden she got a  nasty pain

Ow,ow,ow,she shrieked,what is that?

It’s ok,said the nurse,just old ladies are not used to this sort of thing.

I’ll have you know many older ladies are very used to it but not when they are unaroused.Besides men’s organs are  kinder than metal or plastic if the lady is willing.Can’t you put more lubricant on the damned thing

The doctor tried to remove the speculum but was clearly somewhat agitated.

Ouch,cried Mary.Ouch.

Thank goodness I didn’t know it would hurt.Do you think we should be shown a romantic mildly arousing film in the waiting room to make it easier?

We can’t do that,said the nurse.We might be accused of running a brothel.Still we  could use more money in here.

But the doctor is not paying me,said Mary.I am paying him, in a sense,as a taxpayer.And you too,dear.

You are too clever for me,said the nurse sharply as she admired Mary’s  tan leather handbag from TKMaxx stuffed with set squares and cameras

I shall bring a vibrator next time,Mary told her,though  she had never even seen a vibrator except in a picture.Still.she had to say something.And why should she not benefit from modern science?Boots sell them,she seemed to recall…

You can’t bring a vibrator in here  or the doctor  will be angry ,as he might be accused of misconduct if you enjoyed yourself, the nurse whispered, though  why should you not enjoy it,she said in a  puzzled tone as if she had never thought like this before.

I thought it was only misconduct if he enjoyed himself,Mary cried loudly and planitively

He has seen so many ladies, it is just like seeing into a mouth for him,said the nurse churlishly thus taking away Mary’s pride in her unique anatomy.

I expect one gets used to anything in time,Mary murmured,but I hope he will not need to do that again to me.

No,  you seem ok,the doctor said,but I seem to imagine  I  can see a cat under the table.What is he doing?

I am just keeping an eye on you,mewed Emile.I live with Mary.

No animals are  allowed in here ,the doctor shouted in a paranoid manner.

A bit late now,meowed the cat.Are you sending for the cat police?

Dr.Grey picked up  a very large speculum and threatened to strike Emile with it

Now then,said the nurse, he might scratch my legs.Leave him alone.He’s just protecting her.And I had just sterilised that.

Fat lot of good Emile was,Mary thought.

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The doctor approached Mary and told her she would be seeing a consultant soon… in the meantime should she  do anything to prepare… she asked.

Well, do try to relax if you can, he told her gently.It is trying for ladies  of riper years to attend hospitals but we only want to help you.

I’ll have to help myself,Mary thought wryly lauging inside as she got down off the table and put on her red and purple knickers or “underpants” as they are now referred to as.

Thank God,that is over,she whispered to Emile.Let’s run out and get a cab.

She hobbled to the door and phoned the taxi firm  with her mobile.I just want to get home she told the driver.

Don’t we all, he said in an Eton accent.Surely it’s not David Cameron in disguise canvassing patients?Thank God he’s not conducting pelvic exams on them!That would lose him the election whether he was  any good or not… in my view,but then what do I know about the British electorate?It might be the key to our future as a nation.Think about it!

Stan and his deodorant

Stan was looking out of his bay window at the old rowan tree. in front of their semi detached house in a quiet  tree lined avenue in Knittingham.After some intense sunshine in August,its leaves had withered and he thought it might be dead.He had his microfibre cloth but was not even pretending to clean the window…. one of his duties in the home
He was thinking pensively because  his wife Mary had told him he ought to be wearing an antiperspirant when they had a row the night before.
“But I’m 105,” he cried.”Surely,I don’t need an antiperspirant  now?”
“Don’t exaggerate,”Mary replied,”You are only 75Do you  need Cognitive Age  Truth  Therapy as well”
“But do I smell nasty,” he asked her…ignoring the  faint hint he was exaggerating pathologically about his age.
“Well,it says in the Telegraph that all the Top People now wear deodorants.”
“Good grief, what made you read the Telegraph,that right wing apology for a newspaper?And I should say the  present government certainly need  strong deodorants.I have a good wash every day and a bath once in a blue moon…I am clean enough for my mistress!”Annie his mistress lived right next door to the surprise of all who thought they  knew them well.
“Well,I am taking you to Boot’s tomorrow to find one”
“How dare you order me about  like this.Even if I wanted to wear a deodorant I wouldn’tt tolerate being  spoken to like that.~I am a man and I smell the same as always ;why don’t you buy me a new sponge and some decent soap in Sainsburys instead of this lavender rubbish.”
Mary began to sob quietly
“What’s wrong,my little jacket potato.” he asked her gently in the language of  the North British.
“Well,maybe it’s my therapy…I have been recollecting memories of girls teasing me because we had only a tin bath in our house and no bathroom.It was cold going to the lavatory down the backyard as well,especially when I got dysmenorhea………….otherwise known as period pains, when I might be there half an hour.
So I guess I thought I might smell nasty.I am reliving the pain and anguish and as a defense I am projecting my fear onto you,That’s maybe why I was so rude to you.”
“Eeh,by gum,she’s swallowed the Dictionary of Psychoanalysis not to mention the Encarta  too”thought Emile their smiling tom cat.
“Well,you do smell.Like honey… you smell just the way I like a woman to smell…Natural”
“How would you describe it,my onion pie?”
“Like a cat on heat ,my honeybum” he answered tenderly yet manfully.
“But surely you have never had intercourse with a cat?” she queried nervously yet longingly.
“No,not sexual intercourse, but I have slept with many lady cats and I know  well their varying smells,their mews and their claws.”
“Just like me” whispered Emile,” and I like how women smell too.I like perfume..especially Poison and Chanel Nr5″
“So I shall  come to Boots with you and I shall buy you some perfume.Then we can have coffee and cake somewhere for a real treat.” Stan told Mary assertively.She kissed his fair white cheek.. now a little red from the sun,
“I like coffee and cake,”purred Emile,”And I want a deodorant and some cologne. and a few other things”
“I think I could put you in my It bag “,said Mary kindly….which would be a pleasant change for Emile.They often left him alone in the house though he could drop into Annie’s at any time…and watch her tidying her make up box out or having a bath with lots of foam.Emile adored her,
So soon they will be on their way into town in their best clothes.Will Emile sit on a chair or will he stand on Stan’s knee.Wait patiently…. he might break his saucer.
The future is fiction

We must have tact [ rude language here]

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Women’s clothes are a bit thin vis a vis pockets.
And one cannot store much in a locket.
We need storage space,
Knicker legs are one place,
Or the cleavage, if one does not lack it

Some ladies have recourse to their vulvae
For storing flash drives bought on E-bay.
Don’t store your smartphone there,
Despite that it’s round not square.
For you’ll frighten some folk when its rings bray.
.
Yes,the skin needs our care and respect
Our private parts we needs must protect.
So make some cloth bags,
To store ballpoints and fags
to keep covered shows that we still have tact

I was seeing a gynaecologist this week  plus a dermatologist so please pardon my rudeness here.It’s my way of processing my experiences

About evil…Hannah Arendt and us

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2011/aug/29/hannah-arendt-adolf-eichmann-banality-of-evil

The devil has no horns

He will seem normal,even wonderful

He needs to deceive so he is not plain

about revealing his true nature,

No,of course,it’s obvious that he must be in disguise.

He might be you or me.

Don’t trust the ones who charm.

Or those who boast of their goodness

Don’t you see,that’s exactly what he would do.

Is he going to come out straight away?

No,first he must cast a spell on you

Then you will do as he says

And claim  what you did was quite alright

Because how could you or I be evil?

Useful terror

If the surgeons kept their hearts
On plates of ruined silver
exposed to inclement weather
and the nameless god who wills there,
we’d see fewer errors
but far more useful terror
for they think they are free from gorgons
eyeballing their organs
and do not see the crater
when it’s now but never later;
climb the distant rock wall
until sweet soundless night falls;
if they kept their hearts connected
while we humans were dissected
we’d have a chance of healing
if they touched our skin with feeling,
but they like pure gold and silver,
stone and marble windows
women dressed in satin
and name tags writ in latin
everything is solid,
you think that evl’s squalid.
Yet you touch me with your human,human hand

A paradox for the cat

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On Saturday afternoon after luncb ,or midday dinner as we said up north before winning places in posh universitues
which stole our native language, Mary began to feel very nervous, as she was going to the hospital with Stan on Monday for his next appointment with Dr.Range Rover.
Mary was puzzled.She felt almost happy last week about seeing this kind hearted and gracious well dressed female doctor.However she had been shunted sideways onto a male doctor who was almost totally silent.. so much so that he seemd to absorb Mary’s questions into his sponge of a brain without feeling the need to respond,just like many British husbands do… and it may be a universal trait in men world wide.
Why do I feel so apprehensive this week? Mary asked her dear black cat Emile.
After all.I was happy to see her or to even have a biopsy last weekend.Why have I changed in my feelings so much in a week?
Does it matter? purred Emile.
Maybe your mood is affected by something else.. like fatigue or housework or the ravages of age… [he was well read]
We don’t always know why we feel a certain way but I feel it’s good if we are willing to accept these negative moods.Even I have my moods when the fish you get me is not the right sort and you don’t give me my cat’s handkerchief neatly ironed.
You are so wise,Emile,especially as,being a cat,you never have to endure these interviews with consultants in horrible outpatients clinics.So you must have a wonderful empathy for humans
This lady doctor tomorrow is exciting me,cried Emile loudly.May I come in your Grace Kelly handbag.
What’s wrong with my shopping bag?Good grammar,by the way..
Well,she wil be surprised if you take a heavy shopping bag even if it has a Mondrian design on it… she may get suspicious.. even paranoid.If I am in your handbag she will not realise.
Not unless you miaow,mused Mary benignly as she smiled down at him her singular eyes gleaming like the headlamps on a Roller.
I like to know the reason for things,she continued somewhat frantically.I think therefore I might be eventually.I am not yet,for sure.
Does everything have a reason,shouted Stan querulously from the hall…
Wel l,it does,but it might be beyond human understanding like the Burning Bush..
We can only perceive what our language permits unless we are poets,mystics or artists and even then it’s tough to venture into the unknown,unthought or unknowable..
languages develop in societies and learning your language embeds you in many cultural assumptions without you realising it.You think it’s reality when it is just one perspective.
How true,screeched Annie their neighbour from outside the open patio door.She stopped there in her teal velour tracksuit with matching eyeshadow and trainers.
You seem to be overthinking,she said to Mary.Are you sickening with the heat?It’s like loving too much, which may be co-dependency.
That’s a very silly pc word,said Stan rudely.We are all dependent but men can hide it until their wives run away with the milkman and they get a shock not knowing how much they’d miss her changing the sheets and buying their underpants and socks.And ironing their hankies
Surely that’s not the main reason a man might miss his wife,cried Mary as she carried in the tea tray with a big white insulated teapo,t. so I hear
Well,you can go on the web and find a virtual sex partner or even buy a dummy woman. but it’s tough to find a devoted woman who knows what you need to function.
Why don’t you buy your own underwear and use tissues?,asked Emile
Well,Emile,I put out the rubbish and wash the heavy Le Creuset pot.I see to the car and bikes.I paint the fence and even bake cakes.
Mary washes the clothes and changes the sheets unless she has an idea to write down.She kindly does all the worrying for both of us and I remain calm like a lighthouse.We complement each other ideally.. and we love each other and a few others as well..without giving away our secrets
That’s one waay of describing it,thought Mary without commenting out loud
Anyway,I am still wondering why I feel nervous about Dr Range Rover….
If you accepted the nervousness it might ease,said Annie wisely in her high voice like a car siren going off at night
Just then the doorbell rang.It was Dave the bisexual transvestite paramedic.
Emile phoned 999 saying Mary was having kittens, he said rapidly.This really must stop;inter species sex is not allowed here like most sexual activity
He was speaking metaphorically or is it metonymically,Stan groaned.
Now you are here go and make us a fresh pot of tea and admire my new tea caddy.I bought it for Mary last week in that new shop in town.
At your service,sir,Dave said politely,his flowered dress waving in the breeze.
Do you know anything about Dr Range Rover,Dave? Annie murmured
What is her reputation etc?
Some people like her, Dave said,Usually men.she’s not so good with women..
Well it’s too late to change thought Mary so I shall have to willingly endure the agony of meeting her again as I cannot leave Stan on his own with her…
why who knows what might happen? She might become his mistress as he likes several nowadays. despite nearly being too thin to live…
God only knows, a little voice said.
Hello,said Mary.I’ve not heard from you lately.
Well,I am still here looking after you
Thank you, Lord,I love you, Mary shouted joyfully to the surprise of Stan and Annie, not to mention the cat Emile who was unlearned in the religion of his owners.
I thought you were an atheist,Annie said with horror.
I am an atheist and I believe in God.It’s what we call a paradox..Mary cried graciously….
What would Wittgenstein have said?
Whereof one cannot understand,therof one must be patient and tolerant,.
Why does Mary need to understand all her feelings…Stan wondered
When it’s raining she doesn’t spend hours wondering why and similarly if it’s raining in her heart she must take it like parched grass…she thinks too much.
Too much for what? Her sanity perhaps which has at times bei.ng doubtful but that has made her very understanding to those who find life hard.Everyone has value,even mad,nervous half blind, supersensitive, vulnerable,stout arthritic female mathematical geniuses like Mary.She enriches the tapestry of life in a very real sense as someon

e once said
And so say all of us,she’s a jolly good Fellow of All Proles College,Oxenford..you know how famous it is!

The hospital

  • Well.Margaret,I am the doctor.Have you had sex recently?
    I didn’t realise we could have it on the NHS.Shall I get undressed?
    Sorry ,dear,I am the gynaecologist.
    Do stop showing off and speak English.
    I mean I am a doctor who studies lady’s private parts.
    You get paid as well!
    Please let me conduct the interview.
    Where is your podium?
    Are you always like this?
    No,only with men or women.
    This is what I need to know.When did you last engage in intercourse?
    Does self pleasuring not count?
    No,you can keep it mum.I am merely wondering if the speculum might hurt you as you are so old,dried up and withered looking.
    How extremely thoughtful of you and yet how unkind too,My boyfriend never calls me withered looking,
    How old is he?
    Mind your own business.
    Well, are you ok with an internal?
    I want a woman.
    Sorry ,dear, we are all heteros here.
    I mean a chaperone.
    OK I shall get a nurse.
    You can nurse me if you like.
    Now, please don’t be impertinent.You are still attractive you know.
    I know.Men follow me like bees to a honey jar.
    What do you do/
    I ignore them or tell them to buzz off.
    Are you free Saturday.-
    No, it’s the day for my bi-opsy
    Or is it bio-spy?
    That sounds suspicious!
    Well,we sometimes do get people spying on us.
    Or are you just feeling left out because you can’t bear to think nobody cares about you one iota?
    What’s an iota?
    I can see you didn’t do PPE at Oxford.
    Well,I did my medical studies at Imperial.
    I say,how absolutely fantastic.You must be bright.Are you doing anything on Sunday?
    No, because I believe we should only worship then.
    You can worship me, although after that speculum I shall be unwilling to have sex.
    Do you usually do it on the first date?
    No.I am still a virgin, really.
    What do you mean,really…?
    In my heart,I am a virgin but in my body I am a harridan.
    O M G, let mioaw ‘t of here…
    I knew you were a cat.. I have seen those eyes at night in the dark.
    Nobody has ever said that to me before.Thank you.OMG I never examined you.
    I’ll have to come back next week…
    The saga continues