I say

You shall have no other Gods for tea ever
You shall not make for yourself any mind doll nor sit down with it nor versify nor terrify it nor me
You shall not misuse the Home of the Word.
You shall remember and keep the Sabbath day wholly free
You must not commit murder nor fantasise it nor pretend war is just harmless fun
You must not commit adultery even with uncivil partners
You must not steal benefits from the poor nor deride them
You must not give false references about your Saviour
You must not be envious of your neigbour’s goods.

You shall not be sensuous with his mouse nor her wife, nor any cat that emits love with right behaviour.

Animals etc: offensive names referring to people

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Photo by my sister: Suffolk UK

Hyena [female looks like male re organ]

Shark. [loan shark?]

Snake
Bitch [in UK]
Toad
Wolf sometimes, referring to men of a type who exploit women for their own pleasure
Goat as in randy man unable to control himself
Rat
Mouse [ timid]
Vulture
Does Cuckold come from Cuckoo?
Magpie
Weed
Spaniel [ as they fawn on people]
Swan [conceited]
Goose [ silly]
Chicken [ coward]
Sheep [ passive and without will of own]
Cow [ a term used to denigrate woman]
Egg [ fragile person]
Beetle [ despised]
Worm [ someone low and inoffensive, also maybe sexual]
Ant [ insignificant]
Wasp [ stings with words]
Grass snake
Centipede [ woman with too many shoes]
Einstein [ Too clever]
Pig [ they are in fact very intelligent and clean if left alone]
Heidegger [Intellectual lacking in judgment]
Hitler : cruel Fascist with Messianic beliefs too weak to come out and show self after being defeated
Jew is used as a term of abuse

Famous Jews

God
Jesus
Einstein
Mendellsohn
Mahler
Bob Dylan
The Rothschilds
Saatchi
St Paul
The disciples
L.Cohen
Maimonides
St Peter
St Teresa of Avila
St John of the Cross
Moses
Abraham
Mary mother of Jesus
Jeremiah
Emmanuel Levinas
Yehudi Menuhin
YehudaAmichai
Abraham
Isaac
Jeremiah
King David

It’s not bad poetry because it’s not poetry at all

How could you achieve the distinction of being the worst poet in England?

Anyway what rhymes with England except headband rubber bands the sea the sand?

Since we have free verse no one can criticize you for not having the right meter in your lines

I am not referring to parking metres of course and which way around is that spelled in American English?

I see on quora that many Americans believe that we learned English from them and that we change the spelling of our words.

What a brass band

One thing about Trump, he’s not bland.

Sometimes I suffer badla from swollen glands

And I wonder why I have not block any more premium bonds?

I know a slumped right when I see one.. I mean a slant rhyme!. . Unfortunately this is not bad poetry because it’s not poetry at all

I’m on the wrong side of the garden wall.

What did I say?

Photo0066 2
Heute untersuchen wir die Topologie
Es muss kurz sein.
Und der Gummi
Oh, du bist unhöflich, nicht wahr?
Schau, das ist kein Kreuzworträtsel
Nein, aber du bist. Sie bekommen das Kreuz und wir haben
Was ist mit Worten?
Habe heute nur gesummt.

Nun wollen wir etwas über transzendentale Zahlen lernen
Sie können reden, aber wir können nicht lernen
Warum ist es verboten?
Nein, wir sind nur dick
Nun, mein IQ ist erst 65 und trotzdem habe ich einen Mathe-Abschluss
Von wo?
Sie können sie nicht kaufen.
Das sagen alle
Ich bin ein Idiot, du bist ein Idiot, sie sind Idioten
Und uns?
Du bist ein Idiot.
Ich bin nicht einmal Franzose
Warum hast du diesen Brief in der Hand?
Es ist eine Ehrerbietung meines Vormunds.
 "Dieser Junge ist so dumm, dass er nicht einmal 
Feck buchstabieren kann, und er hat noch nie von Sodom und Gomorrah gehört.
Nun, E ist nicht U
Sind sie die Zwillinge in der Coronation Street?
Um Gottes willen, lies die Bibel.
Wird er glücklich sein?
Nein, aber es wird dich davon abhalten, so viel zu reden.

Do we need enemies?

Zurich

It’s tempting to assume that everybody wants peace and that he will agree it should be easy to get it if only our enemies were more tolerant or more willing to change. But this afternoon it crossed my mind that having enemies can serve a useful purpose.

In a country which is not very stable and which might be at risk of civil war having an external enemy serves to bind the people together.

Interestingly it’s easier for a country to become a democracy or to remain one if there are strong geographical boundaries such as we have  in Britain being on an island.

The same thing maybe true of people that it’s easier to hold yourself together if you believe you’ve got enemies that you can think about and  attack.

Perspective … Different ways of looking at things

Incumbent?

scan000221
Cats looking at us

incumbent
ɪnˈkʌmb(ə)nt/
adjective
adjective: incumbent
  1. 1.
    necessary for (someone) as a duty or responsibility.
    “the government realized that it was incumbent on them to act”
    synonyms:

    7134238 2_f520

    binding, obligatory, mandatory, necessary, compulsory, required,requisite, essential, imperative

    “it is incumbent on the government to give a clear lead”

    antonyms: optional
  2. 2.
    (of an official or regime) currently holding office.
    “the incumbent President was defeated”
    synonyms: current, existing, present, in office, in power;

    “the incumbent President had been defeated”

    antonyms: past, future
  3. 3.
    (of a company) having a sizeable share of a market.
    “powerful incumbent airlines”
noun
noun: incumbent; plural noun: incumbents
  1. 1.
    the holder of an office or post.
    “the present incumbent will soon be retiring”
    synonyms: holder, bearer, occupant; More

    • CHRISTIAN CHURCH
      the holder of an ecclesiastical benefice.
Origin
late Middle English (as a noun): from Anglo-Latin incumbens, incumbent-, from Latinincumbere ‘lie or lean on’, from in- ‘upon’ +

Stan falls out of bed

Stan awoke feeling very thirsty.My, this bed is too hard, he thought.He put out his hand and felt some wood not far away.It was his desk Emile was lying on his stomach purring You fell out of bed, the little cat miaowed.Luckily I clung on with my claws and I am ok sleeping down here….I can see any mice better.Well ,it’s not ok with me,Stan informed him gently .How can I get up? He picked up the Cambridge Companion to Sylvia’s Wrath and banged on his desk softly. Mary was awake and heard a strange sound.She got up and found Stan lying on the floor with his head by his wooden desk. Emile wanted to sleep by the wall, you see.,he told her. Then he rolled over and I fell out. That is logically and scientifically insensible,Mary told him. Surely Emile is not so big that his weight was enough to knock you out of the bed? Anyway, why don’t you get up? I like it down here, the old man lied to her. OK, Mary said,t hen she picked up the phone and rang 999. Hello, she said.My cat is very upset as he feels guilty for pushing my husband out of bed. How terrible for you, the man answered.I’ll send an ambulance right away. Mary opened the front door and left it unlatched whilst she lit the electric lights with a match. How do you feel Stan, she enquired. I am thirsty, give me so brandy, he ordered her in that way men do. They said not to let you or Emile drink or eat. Bloody ridiculous, he told her gently. Soon the ambulance arrived and the paramedics were running up the stairs. Mary fainted so they laid her on the bed whilst they comforted Emile. Then they picked up Stan and laid him right next to Mary. Why don’t you have a bigger bed, one asked Stan. Bigger than what, he responded academically. Well, if you were any fatter you’d not be able to get in with your wife. True,he replied but I am 96 you know.I have erectile mal-conjunction already and soon I’ll be bowled out. I shall make you some tea, the female paramedic told them. Well, you don’t seem to be hurt, the other one told Stan, but the cat may need therapy or counselling because of the guilt he will feel. He’s not a Catholic I hope. No, he’s Jewish, Stan shouted hopefully. That’s alright then.He can have concubines.How do cats get to be Jewish? It’s their souls, Mary said…they are all waiting up there for a suitable place to be reborn and some choose to be cats. But how can you tell? he asked wonderingly. They miaow in Hebrew, Mary said. Do you speak it? No, it’s just he hates bacon and pepperoni and always wears a hat so it seems he must be one of Jesus’s friends, but not Judas of course.I suppose Jesus wore a hat but it’s never been found as yet.Not even being sold as relics. Well, that’s intriguing.Do you think Emile might be the New Messiah? Oh , dear.We never thought of that.Will he have to go to Galilee and catch fish? No, he can go to Rome and tell the Pope that the Church is not what God planned. I hope they don’t kill him, Mary cried… God will not be very happy. I didn’t know God had moods, Stan said. He has post-creative depressive disorder….no wonder when we look around the world. Still, they did try, I’ll say that for him or her. And so say all of us For he’s a very good yeller, he’s a very good yeller. A cat’s life is a fuss.Miaow.:)

So I would  know the way  to kingdom come

I learned the maps of all the  counties here
The contour lines, the rivers   and  the meres
Then I learned  the street maps and  train lines
New golf courses built on old coal mines

I traced all of the A roads with my thumb
So I would  know the way  to kingdom come
I marvelled at  cross -Pennine Motorways
And   thought that our Lord God must be amazed

Then I followed coastline paths and cliffs
I gazed until my eyes became quite stiff.
Finally  the weather maps and clouds
And restaurants where cats are not allowed

At last I knew enough  to start to walk.
If only I had known I am  a hawk.

I’m lonely, just for you.

I didn’t know I’d love you
With both my heart and mind
Every love is different
Each is a special kind

I didn’t know I’d miss you
In quite the way I do.
For we can’t feel emotion
Before its time is due.

And are you missing me now
Despite angelic hosts?
They may care for you .my love

But I think I care the most.

Yet all human lovers
Must part and go their ways.
Some may die and fall to dust
Some may go astray.

I didn’t know I’d love you
And hurt invade my heart.
I didn’t know you’d love me.
But we would have to part.

From mother and her bosom
From father and his strength
We lose and gain throughout our life
Whatever is its length.

I didn’t know I’d miss you
With all my suffering heart.
But . as we’re made of fragile flesh.
Humans sadly part.

If you had been a sadist
If you had been unkind.
I would not now be grieving
And losing half my mind.

So I should be grateful
For being found and known.
I wish you were still sitting here.
And I were not alone.

When we feel so lonely
No-one else will do.
It’s not that I ‘m just lonely.
I’m lonely, just for you.

In the wet and stony
Pathways we must go
We must keep on walking;
Be patient when we’re slow.

The inner force is working
To make new maps for me.
Wherever they shall guide my steps,
With you I’ll long to be.

What I did not know held me in trust

The grey cloud of unknowing held me fast
I knew reality unsymbolised
I gaped at trees with blossom till it passed

I would have paid no heed to stinging wasps
The strange, lost feeling  blinded heart and eyes
The grey cloud of unknowing held me fast

Is this why girls self harm to feel at last?
Inner pain  too deep to make us cry
I look at trees with blossom, this shall pass

Numbness,nothingness,the  human test
To try  our being ,show our hearts can die
The grey cloud of unknowing taught me fast

Who owns life and whose forefinger traced
The universe, the stars, the earth and sky?
I look at trees with blossom,self effaced

Our  words are maps,our sentences are lace
That weave us into being, all engrossed
The grey cloud of unknowing held me fast
What I did not know held me in trust

 

 

 

By love enacted falsely


Posted on May 17, 2019
Should we write in form to make a shape
Or let our minds run free, associate?
Such tangled webs within the mind are draped

Oh, to run as free as antelopes
But from sharp tigers noone will escape
Can we control , disarm within a shape?

Love’s enacted falsely , making rape
Inside our hearts shall we recover hope?
Such tangled webs the curtained mind creates

Round the marbled minds we half dazed traipse
Wherever we go hunting, we’re too late
Can we control our fear within a shape?

Collapsing faith cracks , can we concentrate
Or from the deal , do we dissociate?
Such tangled webs of mind make ripe our hate

Now sex compels but will can’t procreate
Can kindness smile and friendship instigate?
Should we write in form when we love shape?
Our mingled maps of mind might alter fate

Kisses sweet

Words float like water in a stream,
Reflected gently by sunbeams.
This stream flows swiftly to my heart
And through these words your love is caught.

The space inside my heart is clear,
Your love will find its right home here.
Your words are treasures in my night,
And in the dark, they glow with light.

Oh,let me read your notes of bliss,
And seal them with a loving kiss.
I hope this stream will always go
Where living waters softly flow.

For love is kind, and love is true.
Connections form from me to you.
And love creates an open heart,
From which all other feelings start.

Yet love is free, and does not bind.
Love is glad,and not unkind.
So if my love displeases you,
Then you can find a lover new.

I have life inside my heart
Which will sustain me if we part.
I wish you much great happiness…
And know my grief will one day pass.

But for today,let’s laugh and play.
Let’s make love inside the hay.
It’s summer and we like the heat.
Let’s celebrate with kisses sweet.

Anne Lamott’s writing tips

rosaalchemyst2019https://writingcooperative.com/anne-lamotts-top-13-writing-tips-7577eb5d5c24

 

8. Writing is fueled by hard work rather than innate talent.

“I know some very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts…For me and most of the other writers I know, writing is not rapturous. In fact, the only way I can get anything written at all is to write really, really shitty first drafts.” -Anne Lamott

Lamott’s line about “shitty first drafts” has gotten a lot of airtime in the writing community. Many writers seem to use it as a rallying cry.

To me, this quote is a great reminder of the fact that authorship is not a land of “haves” and “have-nots.” The world population has not been divided into capable writers and hopeless wannabes.

If even the best writers in the world struggle to write beautiful prose, we know that writing is a learned craft — one in which we can all improve over time.

We earn the blessing of the Muse by putting in writing time — not by being born with a golden ink pen in our hand.

Genuine mistakes by the voice to text

My husband was in the hospital and he tested positive for  TV

That’s all right you can turn him on whenever you like

The surgeon drained my knee with a lozenge. Or was it a Syrian?   I wish I’d learnt to read when I was blunder

Did they put a primula in the back of your hand first?

She said your knee is twice the normal size, are you in any discomfort?

I knew my stockings were too tight, so I said, no.

She said, you don’t seem to realize the toll this is taking on me.

So I suggested she should change her job.

I was having a problem  distinguishing between myself and other people.

She said, all this pain is bad for you. Would you like a morphine patch on your shoulder?

I said, what about putting it on my bladder I would really like that better

She said I’ve never been so consulted in my satired life. You have to put the patch on your skin on top of some blood vessels

So I said, what about putting it over my heart?

Maybe you could inject it right into my heart directly.

That will be assisted dying and it’s not even legal yet so I will be committing murder.

I didn’t realise morphine was so dangerous. And it can make you feel depressed as well as killing you

Have you noticed now that nearly all the doctors are women and they work part-time and they tell you at 8:00 p.m. in A&E,

stop talking because I’ve got children working for me at home.

Is it my fault if they employ foreigners as  underage slaves?

Anyway I think I might be going deaf when I recover from all my ailments I  have to go to the doctor and say

I can’t hear you

And she will shout

What?

Modern slavery in Britain a serious things l

By the way there are people here we brought from Africa tempted by the offer of money and they are working as carers being paid the minimum wage and their own money to the company that brought them over claiming their needed it for their visas.

It’s a form of modern slavery in my opinion and it’s disgusting I have met some of them and they are lovely people some are qualified teachers and other professionals

The poverty in their home country is great and the life expectation is not very long but this is no reason to exploit them.

Why have you brought a frog to school

Teacher why have you brought a cat to school?

So he can learn to read

He can’t even talk.

I’m not going to get him to read out loud

Why have you brought a frog to school,

Because I was coming to school when I found him.

Well don’t come to school via the Bullring tomorrow

Teacher to girl why have you got a curtain ring on your finger?

It won’t fit on my toe

Why have you got a hat on in the classroom?

I wear it outside as well.

Are you Jewish?

I’m not sure but I thought I’d practise the rituals

Surely your parents must know whether you’re Jewish.

They’ve not been speaking for the last 10 years.

The should go to a marriage guidance counsellor.

They’ve not got married yet.

And how old are you?

I must be at least 9 months.

If you were 9 months old you wouldn’t be able to talk.

There’s always a first time for everything.

But you’d be a newborn baby.

Can’t they talk?

Have you never seen a newborn baby?

Yes I have seen them when my mother gives birth and she says to them I’ll never have sex again.

And what o1¹ they say?

It’s too late now

That Friday night feeling of utter exhaustion

I said I am waiting for transport not where is the banned port

I said I’m writing my blog not get lost in the fog

I said I want good pain relief not I want to compare our disease

I said I love Pablo Picasso not you look very declasse

I said I’m going to pick some apples not I’m going to lick  some nipples

I said I like Stephen Leacock not I’m turning into a peacock

II said am I too old to blog not go and fall off a log

I said I prefer cats to dogs not I prefer rats to frogs.

I said do you like a hot dinner not don’t tell me you’re a sinner

Too old for sex not I shall break all your necks

I said what is your name not you are entirely to blame

I’m getting tired of all these misunderstandings and you think I’m just rambling

I said are you a psychiatrist not I’ve got infantile paralysis

We can get spectacles for our eyes and hearing aids for our ears but what can we get for our minds?

The courage to write

IMG_0001You have to be brave to write because all you have ever felt, experienced or studied can be drawn up into your consciousness whilst you write.A friend of mine who is a writer put it like this.
“It has taken me to places I’d rather not have gone to.”
However she said she manages to live through it.At the time I had only written mathematical works so I didn’t understand what she meant.But I have now had some experiences which give me a hint of what she was trying to say.If you’ve had many fearsome experiences then these feelings may come up when you loosen the grip  of consciousness.
However I have also found a spirit of laughter in me which is new.Step into the darkness without knowing.It’s only by going there that help may come.But the fear is that it won’t.You can’t get an insurance policy beforehand.

Are you stepping into a void or will there be something there?
Also in drawing or painting, it can take courage to draw what you perceive.I found that especially when drawing buildings and studying perspective.I’ll see if I can find a drawing to illustrate it.I have the feeling,
“No, No.It can’t be this steep a gradient.It’s too much”

And in being inside a building like Westminster Abbey or Durham Cathedral trying to assimilate the vision, the huge spaces and the power and size of the shapes can create awe or even terror.One can lose one’s sense of self entirely.But it can also be revivifying when one has returned.The fear is that one will not return.
Maybe it’s the same with relating to people as well?

Teach yourself to deal with your own paranoia

Edgeworthia-chrysantha (2)

Rosa awoke later than she liked to which indicates a control freak element in her personality.She had stayed at her desk till the sun was rising, writing her intriguing diary which she fantasised would rival Sylvia Plath’s.She got up gingerly and made herself a cup of tea in a china mug on a work surface in her lovely peach and teal kitchen
Passing water into a small bottle for the doctor to have analysed was a task even the most brilliant find hard.Rosa was not even the averagely brilliant amongst the brilliants of history like Plataho,Aristittle ,Simone de Boredwoy or Blazed Rascal not to mention St Coal.She grabbed her mobile as a dying man at his wife’s hand and rang the cab service. she used now she was unable to see properly or ride her bike.
Hello, she cried, it’s Rosa Benchez here.Can a driver pick up my urine sample and take it to the surgery for me.Thank you so much.
No problem, the manager told her and soon afterwards a young man with dangling earrings and showed him the sample hidden inside a Sainsbury’s shopping bag.He looked puzzled but agreed on payment of £259.89
She realised she had not eaten any breakfast so decided to have an early lunch instead.As she ate her toasted cheese and snake oil she fell into a daydream.She was with her online man friend walking through a huge field of her favourite flowers, cyclamen.They were walking along companionably without holding hands but together whilst also being apart which waa delightful.This was agreeable since she had never met this very charming man in the flesh.He was called XY Matrix although his parents had never studied algebra as far as historians can tell.Could it be a pseudonym?
Maybe he was being raised to be a mathematical prodigy but he became a writer and musician and managed to earn a good income and he had a beautiful detached house filled with antiques and ceramic lamps like Freud’ study.In fact , he had copied that from historical photos and descriptions and one day he planned to become a therapisr.
Rosie and Fox as she called him got on well and shared a liking for poetry and music.Sometimes he had sent her music as attachments on his emails.He seemed to love Wagner and Britten which is a curious combination to the British woman.He loved Britten’s Donne’s Sonnets sung by the stunning tenor Ian Bostridge.

worst-book-covers-titles-7

After lunch, Rosa opened her laptop.She found an email from Fox.
You have been here and broken all my windows and my bath is ruined, he wrote.I am moving house to get away from you.And I am having plastic windows installed there,
Rosa was alarmed as it defied common sense.She did not know where his house was and it was in another country.So she emailed him back,
What is wrong , dear?You only said 2 days ago that my poetry and linguistic jokes had helped your sick friend when you went to visit him in the hospital.
Waiting anxiously for his answer, she sipped some coffee and looked at her friend Dolly walk by, dressed in a pink suede jacket and black linen culottes with unmatching red boots
.Where is Dolly going she wondered pensively, feeling like a cloud floating over Rydal Water in the winter not knowing which way the wind might blow it.
After two hours of utter silence, she decided to wait until the evening when she had put away the groceries and written a triolet or two.She was keen to do it before she lost the impetus and had to write a lecture,
The whole evening went by so she emailed him again.But again he did not reply.
The next morning she found a letter on the doormat.

1, Rancour Villas
Horror Lane
Terrortown
Undear Rosa

I thought you would be kind and gentle like your poetry but you haveave wounded me.You asked me what date my dental appointment was which was an invasion of my privacy.You told me you would not mind if your son was gay whereas to me it is a sin to indulge those sick appetites and you should not encourage him.You refused to send me a photo of yourself with nothing on except a pair of socks and a hat.I hate you now.I am deeply aggrieved that you have ruined my entire life

Signed XYM

XYZ McSez
A dental appointment? It’s not as if she had asked him if had a sexually transmitted disease or whether he really believed in Jesus as his Saviour.Nor had she asked him if he liked to smoke cigars in bed nor if he let Lassie his sheepdog sleep on the bed and cuddle with him.For all she knew, the dog might be his partner or even his wife

She emailed him as she felt anxious in case he was having a breakdown.He replied, saying she was not who he thought and he was finished with her forever
I wonder who he thought I was, she asked herself as she sat with tears in her eyes feeling concerned about what was really going on in his dear mind.Her cat Lucy ran up and sat on the arm of the chair gazing frenziedly at her owner and mother
Don’t worry Lucy.I am sure I will soon be ok.This must be a mistake.I think he has got paranoia which gets worse and then better

Rosa looked on Amazon and found a book called

Kantor MD, Martin
Having read a little of the book online she decided it had some useful tips which could also apply to people who were not paranoid , like always being polite, never telling lies and never arguing.As it was only £1899 she placed an order.If her friend was really ill she did not want to make him worse.
On the other hand, who knows what his real motives might be.He could be a sadist or have got many women friends and not enough time to keep them all happy.He might even be gay and be using her to see if he could love a woman at a distance better than one in the flesh.
We have to admit that often none of us know why we do certain things.As a friend used to say
It seemed a good idea at the time.
And so say all of us

Reclaim your sleep

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BBC News image

http://www.vancouverobserver.com/blogs/betweenus/writer-urges-us-reclaim-our-sleep

At issue here is our inner life. In a chapter called “The Social Divide,” Duff describes the widening gap between sleep and waking consciousness. She briefly traces the history of the marginalization of not only our own subjective experience, but also the mythologies that once provided its context.

“I was most familiar with Greek mythology,” she explained. “[The Greeks] paid a lot of attention to sleep and dreams and how that material is worked in us. I was surprised to find out how my Eastern philosophical traditions had studied sleep. Three or four thousand years [later], we think we’ve just discovered it. But there’s so much folklore and cultural life passed down from generation to generation. Everything that mothers learn from their mothers to promote sleep [like] lullabies.

“With the Enlightenment we sort of erased our awareness. Darkness became aligned with [what] we were trying to rise above—emotions, feelings. We wanted rational control, and you can’t control sleep. Sleep is one of the ways we return to nature. By responding to alternating phases of light and darkness, we return to our natural cycles, and join with all of life.”

Sleep and health

It’s no news that regular sleep is important to our overall health. In her work as a counselor, Duff has found increasingly that a good night’s sleep is instrumental—even essential—to our emotional well-being. As part of her intake process, she routinely asks her clients how they are sleeping.

“Once they got more sleep,” she said, “their issues became more manageable. Even bipolar disorder and major depression are often preceded by six months of sleep problems.”

On the other hand, as she states in the book, the “effects of sleep disruption on mood, perception, and behavior are so strong” physicians sometimes misdiagnose patients as having psychiatric disorders when those patients “simply need better sleep.”

Along with diagnoses come medications. In a chapter on the commercialization of sleep, Duff notes: “The use of sleeping pills among adults between twenty and forty-five doubled between 2000 and 2004. In 2011, 60 million Americans filled prescriptions for sleep medications, up from 46 million in 2006.”

Statistics that I find deeply disturbing.

The problem is not so much the amount of sleep we get or how we get it, as it is our relationship with sleep.

“We want to commodify it,” said Duff. “[We want sleep to] help our days be better rather than offering its own vantage point. It’s about productivity. We keep going over the day’s events, but we process them with a different mind, much more associative, which works more by Gestalt. That’s why people will come up with solutions [when they’re asleep]. It’s non-conscious processing, which goes on when we’re awake as well. But we don’t pay attention to that either.”

Duff points out that the problem isn’t with science, but with “scientism”. She is glad that scientists are paying attention to sleep and making serious studies, but she worries about them “jumping on the bandwagon of making money—selling us machines and pills.”

She encourages us to take back our sleep, which she likens to a “n

Seeing the light

I could have died when witnessing the sight

The great cathedral floodlit in the night

My legs gave way I tumbled to the ground

Filled with joy so great it knew no bounds

I rose from my collapse on those wide stairs.

No one saw this happen,no one was there

Later I saw Blythburgh in the light

I feasted on this vision every night.

Inside the church the angels sailed above.

Inside myself I felt immense sweet love

Lying in my bed when sick and ill

I saw a green cathedral on a hill

And so I soothed myself with visions fair

The goodness of creation lingered there.

If man’s creation causes such effects

Who was it wrote the script and who directs?

Love’s Labour by Stephen Grosz review – the truth about relationships

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/aug/25/loves-labour-by-stephen-grosz-review-the-truth-about-relationships?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

He has only written two books and they’re in the form of stories I found it very interesting and his first book the examined Life I have reread and far more in it than I remembered.

Beautiful written as well

Mary was knitting

Spain

Mary was knitting a large shawl on a circular needle and following the pattern in her BBC knitting book from the 1970s she had to increase in the center of each row by one stitch or was it two stitches I cant quite remember.

When she got up to 228 stitches and was beginning the next row she forgot where she was and so she began to count from the beginning to see if she’s reached 114.

She got up to 98 when Stan who was reading the Guardian turned her and says,. have you read this article by Samuel Heeps today!

I don’t think so, she murmured as she began to count from the beginning again.

When she got up to 97 he responded

Surely you must know whether you Readvit or not.

Yes perhaps I will remember soon she retorted as Emile mewed silently.

The third time she got up to 101

The fourth term she got hooked to 103

Are you sure you don’t remember this article, her husband

Mary is a very patient woman but nobody is perfect so she stopped knitting said to her husband can you look at me please

So he did and then she said I am knitting this very big shawl but I am not an expert and sometimes I have to count the stitches so before you speak will you look at me and see whether I am counting or not please!

Oh I’m so sorry darling. I never speak when you are writing on the computer or reading the latest work of Adam Phillips in but I did not realize that you can’t knit something like that without having to look at it carefully now and then.

So then Mary began and got to the center and increase in the middle and stitch on both sides

And eventually she finished the shawl

And decided not to divorce her husband

After all, who would want a totally silent husband?

That’s a question I can’t answer

How to catch a train

The only sure way to catch a train is to miss the one before it

GK Chesterton

Of course this assumes that all the trains leaving your station are going to the same place

If not you might miss the trend from Oxford to London and instead the catch the train from Oxford to Slough

At my local station here all the trains go into London. So he would be right .

The most dangerous situation would be where you missed your train from king’s cross to Peterborough and git on the next train which was a non-stop express to Edinburgh

There are trains like that because I’ve been on one and I remember going through Newcastle very fast which I did not recommend.

Flowers pose.

How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose
Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.
For their intricate petals form a shield
Yet bees with striped force shall make them yield.
Appearances,both natural and contrived,
Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive.
As knowing not, we pluck the apple rare
And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare.
We too deceive the innocent who pass
Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass.
The windows break,the deep earth quakes;
Seized is the maiden ,he her virtue takes.
Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive.
What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives

A child eating an orange

Ezekiel sits on the floor eating an orange 

He has four teeth, he can stand up.

He can’t walk yet but he dances.

He’s as tall as the table 

What are you thinking Ezekiel? 

You are murmuring and muttering

You are singing and whispering

Speaking in words and sentences is in a way or diminishment of all this.

I can see what we lose as we grow older

Oh happy,Ezekiel, you like oranges.

You want something and it appears as if by magic.

It appears as if you created it.

Be our guest

The world’s hollow like a shell

I’m in deep now,never been this deep before
The world’s hollow like a shell and I’m out its door.
In so deep, the ocean has its own startled floor.
I’m down,down.down.never been so dark , so )

I can’t rightly tell how I got where I am
I think I had an accident,fell over, then I swam.
Sometimes it’s a loss, be times it’s my man.
I guess I only do it cos I know some folk can.

I don’t know if the joy is worth the pain
Would I choose to relive if, I was born again?
The deep joy is the amazing gain.
But the sorrow is damn sad, let’s admit it plain.

I’m in deep and it’s over my head
What was I thinking of,when I fell out of that bed?
I look up and the sea’s so turquoise like that mist is red
When we get good and mad and wish some loon was dead.

At first, it was all just black,black pain
But from the bottom of the well, I looked up with awed love again.
That’s when I recalled,feelings are deep and sane
Joy is much greater when we’re in the deep,deep zone.

I dunno if I’m ever comin’ out.
We can’t control it,ain’t that what life’s all about?
I’ll never love with innocence again,nor not feel doubt.
But I’m no teapot and the devil ain’t got my spout.

I’m swimming and the ocean’s so mysteriously bright
Down here we don’t have no day nor no night
Fish nudge me with big grins and teeth white
Sea flowers fondle me and whisper,turn off that light

The future is still fiction all unthought

The future is a story not yet told.

Are fantasy and dream creative acts?

The future is still fiction for the bold

We aren’t like concrete set into a mould

And yet we all must die, that is a fact

The future is a story not yet told.

Some may travel through the realms of gold

Taking in the virtues that they lacked

The future is still fiction for the bold

We’re always moving on, life is not on hold

Selfish day dreams never teach us tact

The future is a story not yet told

Into my dreaming head such thoughts are packed.

Slipping in the mire of all my lacks

The future is a fiction not yet told

The future is a story for the world