Author: Katherine

Poetry writer and author

It runs in the family

Zebras
Zebras (Photo credit: flöschen)

 

photo1049_001Oh,yes,I do lovely handwriting

Just like my dad.

It runs in the family

And I like chip sandwiches with butter

It runs in the family.

No,I can’t do cryptic crosswords.

Or enigmatic looks.

It runs in the family.

I read too many clever books

Instead of earning money.

It just runs in the family.

Yes,we are all music freaks.

We listen to Schubert and Schoenberg all night.

It runs in the family.

We are all impolite.

But we can’t help it cos

It runs in the family.

Yes,we all use four letter words,

It’s a free country,besides,

It runs in the family!

And no we can’t write poetry,you see

Writing doesn’t run in my family.

But,we all practice monogamy,

So far,though, unsuccessfully,because

Adultery runs in the family.

Which puts a slightly different complexion on the phrase

“It runs in the family”

But, alas,all of my ancestors are dead.

It runs in the family!

Related articles

Tutorial 4. Establishing consistency to work.

Well worth doing this 15 minutes a day exercise

janetweightreed10's avatarMy Life as an Artist (2)

Throughout my years of painting and teaching, I have heard many times the frustration of those who would like to explore their creativity, but seem unable to establish consistency in their work.

Remember it’s better to do a quick warm up exercise for fifteen minutes a day than to have marathon painting sessions twice a year!

I would suggest three elements be put into place to do this exercise.

1) Pick the same 15 minutes every day – make sure it’s a time that works for you.
2) Set up a small table, such as a card table, which doesn’t have to be moved or cleared.
3) Turn off mobiles, or any other potential distractions.

It takes 28 days to form a new habit. If you follow this simple format three things will occur….
Consistency, technical skills, and most importantly observational skills will improve.

You can read more about this…

View original post 95 more words

Why are many of WW2 generation are worried about the rise of fascism?

Fighter against the Nazis Medal
Fighter against the Nazis Medal (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Read and ponder

Related articles

syzygysue's avatarThink Left

At a time, when those British soldiers killed in war are remembered, it is salutary to focus on why many of the WW2 generation are so nervous about the parallels between the 1930s and now.

“What no one seemed to notice,” said a colleague of mine, a philologist, “was the ever widening gap, after 1933, between the government and the people. Just think how very wide this gap was to begin with, here in Germany. And it became always wider. You know it doesn’t make people close to their government to be told that this is a people’s government, a true democracy, or to be enrolled in civilian defense, or even to vote. All this has little, really nothing to do with knowing one is governing.

 What happened here was the gradual habituation of the people, little by little, to being governed by surprise; to receiving decisions deliberated in…

View original post 1,599 more words

Nonsense at bedtime

cat
cat (Photo credit: Kenny Teo (zoompict))
English: Bust of Nero at the Capitoline Museum...
English: Bust of Nero at the Capitoline Museum, Rome (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Image

Call it a day…. to a depressed i person it seems like a century,even a millenium,

So being depressed prolongs life!
I called off the frogs,but they didn’t speak English so they were all over her supine body.
I called her a bitch on the warpath so now  I sleep in the coal shed.
Call  her the hottest woman in the town and she’ll wonder how you can know
Can it bark?Can it  teach exponential nonsense? It’s a brain dogImage
I had can of worms  on and my wife ate them raw…… made me feel dead  weird.
I said ,can  dogs bite,not I want a pint!But since you asked….I’ll have five pints and the dog will have a pot of tea with no sugar.Bedankt voor yer mutter
She smiled as she opened her can of charms….she keeps them hidden deep
Why can’t you have your snake and beat it ?
Why do they say I can’t hold a candle to his ex-wife?I’ll hold an electric fire to her…I’m evil now as being good harmed me.. and how!
I can’t nudge a dirty  book  under  the bed cover since we got a duvet.What is the answer?
  I can’t learn to swim without seducing his daughter…I mean,warming the water!
I can’t say anything rough about him, you know…. he’s got a big fist and I have two black eyes already.I can’t have three!
You can’t tease blood out of a  hare’s lip… ..don’t you have yur own blood?
You can’t teach an old bag like me new tricks,so it’s the missionary’s precision.
Can  a woman carry a sunbeam?It’s light and they’re fantasticImage
  Because of the dancer flaming  up on stage. a fire was lit and it was like Nero was back on earth.I even played my violin.Actually it was a cello but the heat shrank it..I am being dishonest.It only became a viola.The strings are just one octave above the cello’s
He gave me £100   per stroke….now he’s paralysed
Cash in on your hips and have a baby
Cash is flung out daily from the top window… then  it’s blowing in the wind,as it were
Gnash your teeth again please.then say cheese.
Winter casts a long shadow on me… it’s my fiancee following my ass
The cat got my wedding ring.I was totally mute… then I said,Are you getting married and the cat answered:Well a cat may look at a ring!I hope the cat leaves my mobile phone alone.?I saw her kiss it once when it played,Sally,Sally,queen of our alley,you’re more than my whole world to me
Related articles

The Opening of Eyes

Do read this

ivonprefontaine's avatarTeacher as Transformer

I spent a great two weeks at home. I concluded my time away with a wonderful weekend in Seattle where I attended a poetry weekend, along with about 150 others, facilitated by David Whyte. A major theme was asking beautiful questions: questions we need to ask that show stories in our lives that are possibly outdated. We open our eyes for what appears to be the first time and there is a renewal.

An important part of beautiful questions is they guide us towards new horizons. We feel grounded by home’s foundations and  drawn forward from that stable place in imaginative ways. There is something spiritual and biblical about this feeling as we find the courage in our hearts to let go in ways we had never imagined possible.

That day I saw beneath dark clouds

the passing light over the water

and I heard the voice of the…

View original post 109 more words

A sorry story

Autumn 2013 008

No human being comforts my sore heart

No human being looks with favor on my doubts.

Yet still I ate a tasty  apple tart

And went to bed in nothing but a clout.

No human being loves me as I am

No human being wants to comfort me.

Yet still  today  I shall have cakes and jam.

And drink ten   mugs of  boiling  China tea.

No human being looks inside my soul

No human being  cares about my cares.

Yet still today I’ll eat a bacon roll.

And spray some perfume on my golden hair

For God helps those who help themselves to most.

So I shall  talk with his lamented Ghost

Tears in your eyes

Autumn 2013 070Until the very end of time I’ll be loving you.
Until the end of all my rhymes,I’ll be writing you.
Until the day I die,I’ll be unintentionally annoying you.
Older and older,I’ll never leave you,but I will,no doubt, grieve you and deceive you,misperceive you.
Otherwise I’ll think of you,wink at you and make a hyperlink to you
Still,for ever,I’ll be all over you..looking for fleas in your floes, and
B’s in your Y’s.
I’ll be looking for tears in your eyes
and making you feel surprised.
That’s a love poem,innit?
Well,innit?
Wot!I’m British,innit!
Oh, geddit!

You’re on fire

Lear Book of Nonsense 106.jpg
Lear Book of Nonsense 106.jpg (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He’s sadder than a wet fountain pen;find his cap!
A man with no hat is like a cat with no whiskers.. he has nothing to guide him through the park
I said it with the cap of my breathalyser off.
He’s made of honey I can smell it!He’s attracting all and sundry….quick!
Why not have an outing to a Dole Hill and stone the crows,as it were?
Letters,they make friends meet in the spirit
I wait for dead fiends or start gales…what’s your goblin doing?
Wake up with a tree up your sleeve tomorrow.
We make no bones about breasts.
Make haste or streak to the town alone…I have stolen your clothes.Signed,your wife.[The unnamed woman in your bed]
They make out,like,a man created the world as God was depressed for aeons.He didn’t even want to get better.Do you believe that?It#s the plot for my novel
They made me grade students so I buy watercolor and grey t hem instead … fifty shades of grey plus mixes!
Make cracks about my poetry and I’ll never leak to you again
Please make me up,Lord.I am your creation,so they say.. so make me betterer
I made Waves for Virginia Woolff and created Mrs.Halo-Hey-Grey in many shades and colours….I’m a genius,in a very real sense
I make you move like no other human… you’re a guerrilla in bed
Religion makes my blood turn to oil.A miracle!I believe a brawling bird… above the storm would still be feared
Faking love sent me round the twist…I invented modern dance.why,i was in a frenzy all night.
A man,for all sorts of reasons,may wish to turn into a woman and vice versa.So if you both marry transsexuals you will be fined.Or redefined as the case might be.
A man’s home is his hassle.
A woman’s home is not her own but hey,that’s good…She gets to live rent free in exchange for being a slave… who could ask for more?
You’re joking…. no,smoking!You’re on fire.I am not a liar.
Seventy years went by mumbling,tick tock tick tock.Why not ask for mercy?
Did they ever say?Who was Sylvia? Nobody special……but someone loved her,at least.

Say no more

Related articles

Trying to recreate the world

 

The Lindens of Poissy, by Claude Monet (1882).
The Lindens of Poissy, by Claude Monet (1882). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Claude Monet, photo by Nadar, 1899. Français :...
Claude Monet, photo by Nadar, 1899. Français : Claude Monet par Nadar en 1899. Türkçe: İzlenimcilik akımının öncülerinden olan Fransız ressam Claude Monet’nin, fotoğrafçı yurttaşı Nadar tarafından 1899 yılında çekilmiş fotoğrafı. 1840 ile 1926 yılları arasında yaşayan Monet, bu fotoğraf çekildiği sırada 50’li yaşlarının sonundadır. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

The bus is late and I’m

Thinking of what you said,

trying to understand, but

I’ve never met you,so

I have nothing but written words

which,however beautiful,may not give

enough for me to truly imagine

the depths of your heart.

My legs hurt and I have a cane,

but I don’t like it.I can’t accept

my own infirmity,my troubles,

my pains,my disagreements,my mistakes.

Rain falls over me and drips down the lens

in my spectacles,as if the world is weeping

the tears I can’t shed.

If I cried now,standing at the bus stop,

for all the years of pain

noone would know,they’d

think it was just

raindrops running down my cheeks.

The bus comes,but it’s half term…

The shops are too crowded,I can’t

stand in queues…imagine how most of you

say it’s boring.Well,I’d love to do it

but I’ve decided the pain is greater

then the rewards.

The bus driver stops at a place where

the pavement has been lowered to allow

the owner of this house to drive

their car into the front garden

so they won’t need to buy

a resident’s parking permit.

It makes it a harder task to descend

from the bus and I hope he won’t

start while I’m still getting down.

In the coffee bar are exhibits from

a local museum,and I think,one day

my cane and my watch from Argos,

my shopping bag with a picture of Monet–

such vulgarity…..

they may be in a museum too…

along with my door keys

my bike lock and my spectacles

and will somebody try to conjure me up

in their imagination.

Someone who used to like Topology.

knitting,writing and holding hands with lovers

on the top deck of the bus

crossing central London without noticing

anything except their reflections in the eyes

of the other.

Light bounces to and fro.

My mind shuts down, the words

packed away in boxes,till there’s only

you and me and a few elementary particles

trying to recreate the world

with the big bang

that will end it all.

 

Related articles

 

 

Moonlight Sonata

Very beautiful

fokg's avatarjonahcomplex

What is this feeling
I do not know

It pulls, hard,
At my very soul

While I sleep
While I cry

To no avail, I try and try
To run,

Escape, I must
Not even myself
Do I trust

The pain increases ever more
Killing things
I do adore

This feeling, that I don’t know
Has it’s own tune
O, hear it go
Washing, washing
Over me
Seemingly, stuck in repeat.

It is now, that I crack,
Giving in to the black,

It is here that I see,
What truly horrifies me,
My own soul,
Hung in the sky,
Round and white,
Was it all a lie?

Here I lay, and,
Here the Moonlight Sonata plays.

View original post

I know that’s how death will come.

I know that's how death will come,
Suddenly flying into another orbit
when I am photographing flowers.
It's not a gentle transition.
No-one will know where I've gone.
One step wrong and I'm
off the high wire
And plunging into the no safety net.
Flying for a while;
Jumping into hyperspace,spinning electrons
Startle my grey eyes.
Transiting the new black sun
I'm on a double gold helix,
Spider on your web,
Knitting furiously
Into the future heaven on gossamer wings.
Butterfly goodbye,I'm off to see the stars.
And the black holes.No one will come with me.
I'm shaking off,evaporating into mist.
I'm a flying saucer on a circus mission.
I can't say no to a new invitation.
Make it fast and break with tradition.
Time is passing smoothly till that break
In the music,I've been transmuted into a different key
someone else will play me on their violin
I'm a tune,
I'm a thought,
I'm a whisper in your vision.
Goodbye,darling.I'm under orders
Ready to leave for my performance
On the electric carpet.
Death dancing to a tune on a violoncello,
Arpeggionne sonata
I'm playing your words upside down
In a new foreign translation,
Accompanied by solo artists,ice cracking
I'm going in.It's too sudden.
I'm flying.
Spinning faster to amuse the clowns,
too many ups and no downs.
I'm going right out of orbit
I've broken the pull of gravity,
And fly with pure equanimity
Into my future life,
I'm off at some moment.
An instant ,a crack,a loud smack.
That was me passing,
Related articles

Lost in shadowed caves

Autumn 2013 070When I saw you waiting in that cafe
I knew you would be mine.
You were handsome, smiling,funny..you were
 specially designed.
You looked like men I’d only dreamed about in all those years before.
I’m so broke up,so broke up;you don’t love me anymore.

I knew you would be mine.
You were handsome, smiling,funny..you were specially designed.
You looked like men I’d only dreamed about in all those years before.
I’m so broke up,so broke up;you don’t love me anymore.

I saw you on the station as I came from out the train.
You wore an old green parka to protect you from the rain.
I wanted to be one with you,to make a Love entire;
But all we did was  create pain too bad be endured/

You walked away so quickly,I could not see you long.
I wish I had a big guitar to draw you back with song.
I looked at where you disappeared;what love has loss revealed?
I wish I could just lay down on this floor to keep my face concealed.

Railway stations sadden me, for I know we’ll never meet .
I won’t cry more,for tears are running  straight down to my feet.
I walk fast looking straight ahead past that entrance gate,
I pretend that you have missed your train,that work was running late.

I count from one and one up to a thousand million more–
But I know for sure it's far too late; you have closed that heavy door.
You are hiding in a dungeon
You are covered with white steel
But I know you had a heart and you must surely feel.

I lost all my illusions, and then I lost some more.
I wish I could lay down and die,right here on this floor

The butterfly

A Butterfly on a flower
A Butterfly on a flower (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Butterfly on flower with fake eyes on the wings
Butterfly on flower with fake eyes on the wings (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The butterfly is like a flower
which moves its station every hour.
Oh,happy is he on the wing.
The vision makes me quick to sing.
The flower is open in the sun,
And to its heart, true love shall come.
The bees shall feast and fly replete
With nectar they are now full sweet.
I sing of color and of love,
Blessings that rain down from above.
I wish to be a flower too.
Ah,that the bee could but be you.

Related articles

Tempests of the mind

Biltmore Art Glass Glow
Biltmore Art Glass Glow (Photo credit: cobalt123)
At the remembrance garden in Dublin
At the remembrance garden in Dublin (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The "feather-robed archer" figure in...
The “feather-robed archer” figure in the 1968 flag is inspired by Assyrian Empire period iconography. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We were sitting by the window
gazing at the trees
You began screaming:
The house is under attack,
A storm is coming up.
The glass will shatter
We’ll be stabbed.
We’ll be killed
Looking out I saw only the bare branches
Of the maple
And two wood pigeons in the fir tree
were chuckling to each other.
The wind had not changed.
I know it’s midwinter with the bitter
breeze with an edge to it like a knife.
The sun low like an almost empty glass of lemonade.
Sending light through the forsythia onto the old fence.

 

 
I turned to you puzzled
Reached out my hands to comfort;
But you shouted
Keep away
as you grabbed your thick coat
and ran from the back door into the dark woods.

If there was real danger,why did you desert me?
Afterwards you told me of bad news you’d had.
Seemed like the inside and outside got confused.
I became a Fascist.I was a flaxen Anglo-Saxon.
I was Hitler’s grand-daughter.
I would break my glass and cut your face
with the jagged edges;
And, unlike science,
We can’t go back and repeat the experience
as if it were an experiment.

If you’d stayed a few minutes more
You might have realized
You were half asleep
And dreaming.

Once gone,you’d  probably never return
To the house where  you thought the glass splintered
into shards and cut you to shreds.
I don’t blame you
We are often deceived by our imaginations
We see not what’s here
But what we most fear.
And flee the human contact
Which alone might help.

I always leave the door ajar
And some food on the kitchen table;
In case you come back hungry and tired
It was your mind that shattered,not the glass…
And that’s much harder to mend.
But it can be done
When you stop struggling
And let the inner seas flow free.
You needed a hand
But closeness also frightens you,
And,besides,my hand is not strong enough to hold you.
Only to touch you gently
To say how sad I am

Related articles

Please make a full answer with brevity

Lear Book of Nonsense 101.jpg
Lear Book of Nonsense 101.jpg (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
North America and Pelican Nebulae (narrowband)
North America and Pelican Nebulae (narrowband) (Photo credit: DJMcCrady)

Is keeping a blog a necessity?
Is reaping the whirlwind atrocity?
Please make a full answer with brevity
Or my wits may explode with sheer levity.

Is marriage a convenience like a lavatory?
Is washing the bed sheer depravity?
Please prove your email’s veracity.
Or my Company will be very nasty

Why do we sin with tenacity?
And have sex when we have no elasticity?
Do write down your thoughts without acidity.
And reflect your emotion in tranquility.

A game is such fun when in amity
And is fair except when played in emnity.
Please kiss your own arse with great dignity.
I speak here in jest without bigotry

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EMPTY DID I COME HERE

Very moving

Cathy's avatarSilver Thoughts

120209-sub-Stained-Glass.jpg

As one who came here empty like a gourd

And one who will leave like a broken reed

Forgive me my lack of perception and my folly

And save me from the  Eye of the Almight One.

As one who came here all alone

As one torn from the womb of the mother

And sent to wander on this earth

Forgive me my impatience and my folly

And let Him see in me

That particle of Himself.

As one who was born into woe

And loved many  and held many in her arms

As one born into a world of  atomic war

as  one who learned fear as an infant

Forgive me and protect me

Save me from the mighty Gale

And accept  me into your House for ever

And let me be acceptable to your Eye,

And do not let me fall into darkness.

http://www.bible-lands.net/cities/jerusalem/king-herods-jerusalem

Related articles

View original post 15 more words

EMPTY DID I COME HERE

120209-sub-Stained-Glass.jpg

As one who came here empty like a gourd

And one who will leave like a broken reed

Forgive me my lack of perception and my folly

And save me from the  Eye of the Almight One.

As one who came here all alone

As one torn from the womb of the mother

And sent to wander on this earth

Forgive me my impatience and my folly

And let Him see in me

That particle of Himself.

As one who was born into woe

And loved many  and held many in her arms

As one born into a world of  atomic war

as  one who learned fear as an infant

Forgive me and protect me

Save me from the mighty Gale

And accept  me into your House for ever

And let me be acceptable to your Eye,

And do not let me fall into darkness.

http://www.bible-lands.net/cities/jerusalem/king-herods-jerusalem

Related articles

I have enjoyed thinking,thoughtfulness and related topics

I have enjoyed thinking,thoughtfulness and related topics.I still am not satisfied.That is good because I shall carry on reading and thinking while goin through  winter.

I feel sorry it’s so hard for a layperson to find books which they can understand….with some effort but not too much.Evening classes are scarce when once they were common and cheap.And maybe Art or Music is better than study.

 

No twit left unmourned

Lear_Book_of_Nonsense_111-.jpg
Lear_Book_of_Nonsense_111-.jpg (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Naked as an obscene word
Baked like a mocking bird.
Faked like a plastic turd, he fitted in well to this Government of Mules.
Naked is the way I feel adorned.
Fear and tears filled my heart
Fires in tiers made the men start
Flowers in beer made fine running art
A accessory evil…an it bag.
What is a nit bag,mother?
Obscenity is the love of what no one mentions.
Obscenity is not loved by many conventions
My nerves danced the reel.Imagine how you’d feel with your heart in your  left bunion.How  the ventricle?

Lear Book of Nonsense 103.jpg
Lear Book of Nonsense 103.jpg (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As impervious as a man on a shit bin roof with a leaden heart on his back
As nervous as a slighted man in a room full of mocking whores.
As nervous as an unread look on she whom you adore

Related articles

Must we walk into that darkness?

The sunlight shining through these clouds in E...
The sunlight shining through these clouds in England is an example of sunbreak. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Four o’clock– and the sun’s still glowing
Four o’clock – of a  colour bright day,
Up above, pink-tinged clouds are sliding
Down still sky, sweeping sun away.

Come back sweet sun, do not leave us.
Come back bright beams,I need sunlight
Down on earth,it’s witch moon darkness,
When your golden face is out of sight.

I see the orange tinged clouds extending
I feel such sense of sky lit bright.
But gently now, the mist surrounds you
And sweeps away that happy sight.

Into velvet blackness sinking,
The dazzling, dreaming darkness falls.
Goodbye to haste,and glare, and sunshine,
Time for reverie,night time calls.

On the night-trains gentle journeys,
On this  trackless train we ride
Strange visions and haunting pictures
We will see in dreams’ designs.

In my night train,I’ll be happy
In such rich deep reverie.
We visit darkness in our sleeping,
There we learn its ecstasy.

Now we may have no God to hold us,
In His Hands of Living Love,
What will help us trust deep blackness
If there’s no Saviour from above?

Must we enter that great darkness,
Go back to dark from which we came,
Into dark all living creatures,
In that darkness find our home?

Trust the dark unknown, to hold us,
Trust the dark,both night and day.
Must we walk into that darkness
And trust it is our safest way?

Related articles

The model who seduced two Renoirs – Telegraph

First edition cover
First edition cover (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Lise Tréhot (1848-1922), Mistress of french pa...
Lise Tréhot (1848-1922), Mistress of french painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The model who seduced two Renoirs – Telegraph.

This is really amazing

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Zemanta is as bad as Google Translate

English: A relief from Oropos, now in the Perg...
English: A relief from Oropos, now in the Pergamon Museum, Berlin. Original tag on exhibit states: “Weihrelief fur einen Sieg im Wagenrennen bei den Spielen fur den Heros Amphiaraos. Aus Oropos. Anfang 4.Jh.v.Chr. SK 725. Marmor.” which roughly translates to “Votive relief for a victory in the chariot race at the games for the hero Amphiaraos. From Oropos. Early 4th century BC. SK 725th Marble.” (from Google translate) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Google Translate automated translation of Span...
Google Translate automated translation of Spanish text above: In front of this computer today I spent half an hour talking with up cuanrenta people in the “peak time audience,” listening to the conference and participating in worldwide … Interesting that the Breeze … (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hott spring dayOne may think using Zemanta to get related images and articles for your post is a good idea.But like Google translate it’s a feeble instrument.For example,it will give you WP blogs relating to the same topic but unless you check them all you maybe getting something trivial or irrelevant.

On Google translate,I got the Spirit is willing,but the meat is feeble translating into and out of  Albanian

What is both  the strength and weakness of blogging it that anyone at all can write about anything at all

Zemanta images are easier to judge

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Lucian Freud

Detail of the Burning Bush triptych by Nicolas...
Detail of the Burning Bush triptych by Nicolas Froment, showing René and his wife Jeanne de Laval (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Moses receiving the Law
Moses receiving the Law (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The apple it was that made man glad

http://www.ancient-hebrew.org/28_chart.html

The language your forefathers spoke
Dwells in your images.
Faces bleed with feeling.
Bodies rise out like rocks.
Your self portrait sings
Me,myself.I am.
As God spoke from the burning bush
You took the flame and ran

Related articles

Get me fixed

The Gutenberg Bible displayed by the United St...
The Gutenberg Bible displayed by the United States Library of Congress, demonstrating printed pages as a storage medium. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Monument to Franz Kafka by the sculptor Jarosl...
Monument to Franz Kafka by the sculptor Jaroslav Róna (2003), next to the Spanish synagoge, in Prague, Czech Republic. Bronze, height 375cm. Note: Freedom of panorama#Czech Republic Français : Monument à Franz Kafka, œuvre du sculpteur Jaroslav Róna (2003), près de la la synagogue espagnole à Prague, en République tchèque. Bronze, hauteur : 375 cm. Note : Liberté de panorama#Tchéquie (République tchèque) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Get me fixed

No tricks

Nemesis
Expects’ a fuss.
Politics are us.
Wonders.
Blunders
Due to anemones.
Rush her.
Plusher
Fudges
Grudges
saw the truth
For a tooth.
Ran as fell
Tame me well.
Monocles.
Oracles
Fez for her
Lez for a tear
No floor.
No door.
What’s not here?
Impressed her?
Compressed air/
Daub
Enrobe
Alarms
Terms
Bothers
Cloth ears
He clears the fish quays
Wrongs of followed men
He’s a liar
Eye in the sky-er
Tormented equations.
Misquotations
How detailed.
Bow to females
Canny as hell
Planned as well
Oh,his ear.
Never fear.
Panic rations
Euphoric nations

Kafka ‘s passions

Iron aint rationed
Coal.
Whole
Shameless.
Blameless
Oh,I’ll try her!
In a coma
with a Adorno.
Keeps men warmer.
Seek her
Peek at her
Saw ’em
Flawed ’em
Take a look.
Bake the cook.
What a fluke.
Are you a duke?
The chef’s a liar
I’m the Messiah.
Tomorrow we fire.
Saggy and grey
You’re on the Way
No pariah’s
Ban on liars.
Hell,it fires
See the spires
Fallacy
Well,we’ll see.

Hell,it’s he

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