Words for the buttercups

I was feeling too sad for words
So I went out to feed garden birds.
I slipped on some moss,
And thought  “That’s because
 The world is   dramatically absurd.”

So clearly the words had not gone.
They just needed an event to hang on.
 As I lay on  the ground
I heard  more birdsong.
The moral is, life ‘s not a con.

Words are insufficient to contain
The lovely vision of our April terrain.
The colours and shades
And the  sunlight that fades..
I don’t know  if I can explain.

An image made from music and sound
May give better coverage all round.
A vision in colour
Makes me feel mellow.
I should stay liking flat on the ground!

.

Riemann was a German geometer.
No-one else understood weird shapes better.
He found parallel lines met,
It felt strangely illicit.
But his wife did not let such work fret her.

I’m assuming he had his own wife.
And hope he had no matrimonial strife
They entertained mathematicians
Who took up different positions
 To illustrate the new  geometry  of life.

Why not read someone else’s blog

Riemann’s dinner

Riemann had a very fine mind.
But he found it hard to unwind.
So he became very disturbed,
And his mind was perturbed
By his colleagues, who were very unkind.

He invented a new kind of geometry.
For surfaces convex with cacophony.
Euclid was overthrown
Though it was not really known
Till we saw it all kaleidoscopically.

Until Riemann we believed in absolute truth.
Mathematics and theology called a truce,
It depends where you stand,
On the curvature of the land.
Our weak minds are undeniably uncouth.

Truth depends on the way that we look.
We can focus too much on our books.
We need new perspectives,
Which provide a corrective
To old views which now must be forsook,
Look to the owl as he flies,
Like a god winging across the wide skies.
His broad yellow gaze
Lets attention be paid
To all that surrounds his fierce eyes.

I had an idea.Instead of adding a poem every day,I could remove one!!Then by Xmas they would be almoet gone!!!

Carolina  was the daughter of Riemann.
She often went around with no shoes on.
When the cat bit her toe
It angered her so
She pushed it through the mirror again.

Although Herr Riemann was her father,
She did not like him or maths either.
She loved to write verse
Exceptionally terse,
And she always wanted to know  about whether.

Riemann had four sons and four daughters,
But Carolina was the one most sought after.
She had golden blonde hair
And a complexion so fair
But good luck was not, alas, what this brought her1

She married a man from Tasmania
Who won this fair maiden’s favour.
But he was a geometrician.
What a frightful profession
For a lady with severe erotomania.

He studied poor Carolina’s naked form,
As he wanted to learn figure drawing.
He reduced her to a series
Of ellipses with queries.
For marriage this is not the norm.

Caro would have preferred to be a hyperbola.
If she had to be something curvobala
Hyperbolas are eternal
At matters diurnal.
At love they are very superbola.

I like Carolina in my mind.
For a girl she was exceedingly kind.
She helped her old dad,
When his mirror made him sad.
And his cat was trapped there behind.

His first cat was named Madame Zeta.
And I never knew a cat that was neater.
She made her own bed
And combed her furry head.
Her one grief was not having a person compute her.

His second  best cat was a male,
Which had a long and multi-striped tail.
He named it Zero,
And it became a hero
For studying the geometry of whales!

You recall how the cat went through a mirror,
While Prof.Riemann was having his dinner?
He tried to get through
With a tube of UHUH
But in Wonderland there are no winners.

Activity breeds purpose

About creativity and writing

I’m so  basically impractical at heart.
I can’t get electronic devices to start.
I gave the TV a kick,
And hit it with a stick.
Yes,my life is filled with fine art!

The same problem occurred with my lover.
He hid nervously under the cover!
I gave him a stroke,
And said “You’re a fine looking bloke”
But he ran away veery quick with ANOTHER!

I think I made a mistake.                                                 
In quoting from  the poems of Blake.
I read “tyger burn bright,
In forest of night.”
Maybe not the right allusion to make!

Discussing the state of the Economy
Does not generally make for much levity,
Better to snuggle
Or even too huggle
 That would lead to less severe fear of gravity.

Women are supposed to be soft,
But I  occasionally tell  a man to get stuffed.
It’s like an Exam
To tell the boy from the man.
‘Tis better to have lost than to lust.
.

“If you have a lot of tension and you get a headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle: “Take two aspirin” and “Keep away from children”.”

Unknown source…maybe Marx?

Faces painted

Green leaves ,in sun, in shadow,
Green leaves my heart is waiting for you.!
Early sun has danced on you all day,
The air and earth conspire in  joyous play.

Green leaves come out in spring time
Blossom cascades  in generous gleams.
Green leaves,so many  tints and shades,
Decorate so well my garden’s open space.

Green leaves,my heart is moving with you.
Green leaves,I love your time.
The sun and breeze upon my skin…..
New summer is almost ready  to begin.

It’s a bit late in the day for a poem

Then you can have forty winks.

I love eating mashed potato.
I love meeting lonely strangers.
I like the mystery
and finding out their history.
I love greeting squashed tomatoes.
I love whistling new arrangements.
Don’t you just love the music
Of all equations cubic?
I love beating new conductors
I love breaking new constructions
Can’t you just hear the noises
When I walk across beds of roses?
It beats me what I’m saying
Is it time for me to start praying?
I like the arts of fantasy.
Reality bores the pants off me.

That’s  nearly quite enough”[The Editor]

Are you afraid you’ll lose me?
I’ll meet you here next Tuesday.
Can’t you just see the hailstones
Destroying all our mobile phones?
I’m not going to leave me,
I’m a kind friend mainly.

I’ll cook your eggs and bacon
Though I know you’re only faking.
Can’t you see the moon shine,
 On silver coated lupines?

We’ll solve cubic equations,
In groups of tribulations.
In my mind I’m eating strawberry ices.

And  counting rats and mices.

In my mind I’m eating smashed tomatoes .
I bought 500 new potatoes.
Don’t you just  hate your lover
When they fall for someone other?
Why can’t I got to  Auntie Rythma’s?
I still believe in following Father Christmas!
My heart is beating like  von Karajan.
It makes my self feel  like a little worrying.
Don’t you just love Monday
Because it comes  right
after Sunday!

Everything will be alright after Sunday,
I’ll definitely find you one day.
You’re hiding from the  light beams
Nothing’s what it ever seems
Not even in your dreams.

In my mind I’m rolling down a haystack.
And I ‘m determined never to come back
Even when my cats turn all black.
And miaow from the chimney stack!
I like being out of it.
I have no doubt of it.
In my mind I saw a flat tomato
Playing Beethoven’s violin concerto…….

Who  has never felt shame?
Who has never tried to make a friend,
And been rejected or ignored?
Who has never felt embarrassment?
Who has never felt grief
When a small gesture would have helped
but it has ,unknowingly, been with held?
How many people have the imagination
to guess what’s in your mind,
And to embrace  you rather than push you away?
Noone,Noone.Noone knows.
Noone knows these numbers.
Noone knows these names.
Noone knows how many feel diffident,
Nor how many feel shame.

Being alive is joyful!
Being alive is pain!
Being alive is all we have,
We’ll never be alive again.

I look into your eyes today
I sense your shame and woe.
I look into your eyes now
And tell you that I know,

Being alive is lonely.
Being alive is good.
Being alive is pain indeed
Unless you’re made of wood.

Vivian Diller, Ph.D.: The Challenge of Aging in a Narcissistic World: “- Sent using Google Toolbar”

Russell Bishop: Why Positive Thinking Just Doesn’t Work: “- Sent using Google Toolbar”

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Musing on friendship

This is a well written story of how Facebook “Friends” helped someone in a very difficult situation.Read it .
It is interesting if you ever wondered whether blog friends or others whom you never saw can be true friends.YES THEY CAN!

HOPE OF SPRING

I sometimes wonder who is reading this…………………………….A pair of cats? Advocats.

  Love you at teatime 

A corny love poem from an old man to his wife

My cats dreaming in the stars

My lover was very romantic
With his caresses my desire became frantic!
I could not hold myself back
So we hit the sack
Or went to bed,if you’re feeling pedantic.

We once had a doctor called Boole
Who hated to look like a fool.
If his diagnosis was wrong
His face grew so long
It made me feel positively cruel.

When I had a rash on my brain
He thought I was going insane.
But calamine cream
Worked like a dream!
So I shall use it again and again.

Doctors have a difficult time,
When patients won’t toe the line.
But we need our own voice
And to make our own choice.
We can’t fit into another’s design.