The still small voice,a whisper in the ear
Who will hear it in this noisy age?
Pandemonium food banks, fear of war?,
Buying more cheap clothes distill our rage.
Intelligence of any kind is rare
Sometimes suffering gives us time and spurs
Illness is creative for the few
Underneath the panic there is care.
Sit in in ancient churches for the view
Walk along the sea edge see the waves
Poetry music painting must engage
https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/cynicism
The picture is not cynical
The belief that people are only motivated by selfishness and insincerity.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cynicism_(philosophy)
Cynicism (Ancient Greek: κυνισμός) is a school of thought of ancient Greek philosophy as practiced by the Cynics (Ancient Greek: Κυνικοί; Latin: Cynici). For the Cynics, the purpose of life is to live in virtue, in agreement with nature. As reasoning creatures, people can gain happiness by rigorous training and by living in a way which is natural for themselves, rejecting all conventional desires for wealth, power, and fame, and even flouting conventions openly and derisively in public. Instead, they were to lead a simple life free from all possessions.
*
Here again, the challenge is when our unconscious beliefs and assumptions speed right past being adaptive and helpful, careening into an unhelpful, even dangerous place of rigidity. We say to ourselves and others, “Listen, I already know how the world works!”
And from this perspective
The Holocaust the death of God
Immeasurable pain , the precious blood.
Who contains and changes sin?
If God has left,the devil wins
0 the mother holds her tiny child
Gentle Jesus meet and mild.
The evil comes from human hearts
Love brings evil, God departs.
I pretend my right arm belongs to someone else
Then I stroke my left arm gently
I know it’s not you
But I like it anyway
I saw the black cat slink away
I didn’t know he has been near me
Now he has gone
For today
In the night I heard a siren
Was it inside me or outside
I seemed to have no boundaries
What do you say?
At the hospital, they seemed angry
How long have my feet been deformed?
Since I was in the womb
Before that, I don’t know.
Mary was in the bijou teal coloured kitchen of her almost detached house making a jam sponge pudding when the doorbell rang.She wiped her hands on her new purple trousers because she didn’t want to dirty a clean towel.
She found Dr Rosa Benchez standing nervously outside shivering
Come in , Mary cried.Would you like a cup of tea? You need to sit by the fire and get warmer
I’d love that, Rosa said politely but distantly
A few minutes later they were sitting looking out of the bay window watching a blackbird sitting on the fence as they hoped it would start to sing
May I talk to you,Mary? I have got rather more agitated than ever before.I am wondering if I need counselling or maybe shooting, she joked morosely
OK,said Mary cautiously.Has anything unusual happened ?
Yes, my sister has had her driving license taken away because of big panic attacks she had crossing the Humber Bridge …. you know how huge it is.She got out of the car and screamed,Help! Help!
That was dangerous with so much traffic about
She is furious and says we live in a Nazi state and is writing to the Times
Well, it can happen that you lose your licence,Mary said,but when she has learned to deal with the attacks she can re-apply and get her license back.Simple things like not eating and being tired can bring that on so I have heard.And fear of fear, too.
As well as that,Rosa said,my son has got a recurrence of cancer and is going onto some new drug-type chemo.My ex husband is very distressed and so Am I as it was unexpected.
And even worse my new fiance Prof. Charlie Blogge has broken off our engagement with no reason.I can’t think of any at all.Shall I ever trust a man again?
He said I can keep the ring which is a blue sapphire ,supposedly, but when I had it valued they said I was mistaken and you can buy them on amazon for £57 and less.
So she took off the ring and hurled it into Mary’s coal fire where it looked very nice as it got hotter and hotter glowing like a lighthouse off Portland Bill in a sea storm or a banger about to explode
Good grief, said Mary.No wonder you are agitated.We may have to phone Dave the bisexual lovable paramedic available on the NHS 24 hours a day.Or we could have our hair permed and dyed red instead, she murmured to herself
Which of these events bothers you most,Rosa? She continued gently.
It is my own feelings that worry me most.I wake up feeling very sad and nervous;I wonder if I am having a breakdown.Then I feel worse as I turn it over in my mind trying to decide what to do.Then I get up and get food into me and think it all over and over again while drinking my tea.
Well, you know it is normal to feel sad, anxious or distraught when bad things happen,Mary told her.
But most people look happy when I see them in the town , Rosa shouted angrily
That is because being outside they put on a mask.They could be feeling worse than you.Anyway, why bother about that? We are all different.Some people think I am very calm but they don’t see me when I’m not.I go stiff like a piece of wood.Then I pass out
So what do you do? Rosa asked her nervously,twirling a golden ringlet around her finger as she watched her engagement ring melt in the fire.
I don’t do anything,Mary said.This is one of the fundamental errors in our society that action is needed for so many things and especially for negative feelings.But it’s usually part of life.Things pass.
I pretend I have a big round box inside me and I let the anxiety live in there nice and cosy until my mind has absorbed and dealt with the pain.Once my box was quite small but it has grown bigger now and so it has room for mad or bad feelings.I do little tasks and listen to music.
Then if I feel really bad I listen to Leonard Cohen and tell myself, he had it worse.But he made money out of it! Not that you can make money out of yours. though it’s worth musing about
Well,Rosa replied.Thank you,Mary.I am glad I am not the only one who feels so anxious sometimes.I shall try to get a box like yours.
You are welcome,said Mary jovially.Come round on Sunday for tea.Emile is out hunting but he loves to see you and so do I
The women hugged cautiously and Rosa went out looking less cold and nervous as she bravely carried her box of troubles along with her, though it was invisible to the people passing by.
He said I was so beautiful he was frightened I might get married before he was 18.
Young men who chase after ghosts amuse me,when I fight through haunted night to keep them at bay.I want to say, “Just give them time; they’ll arrive,”but I don’t want to spoil their fun. Tissue frays; sharp becomes fuzzy. Night falls.Look straight ahead, not side to side. Shades gather.Don’t make eye contact or answer, or […]
via Young Men Who Chase After Ghosts — A Small Blue Marble
Eye to eye,
I look at you.
Beloved face is
in my view.
Then I take my fingers
way across your brow;
my fingers linger on your lips-
somewhere,somehow.
.
I trace these dear lines of old age
which wander round your eyes.
I run my fingers down your nose.
My touch is satisfied.
I’d like to trace your smiling lips.
Rhat look so fine and strong.
With my own pink finger tips.
Would you think me wrong?
Your tender arms enclose me
And I hug your shoulders now.
I’ll rub you down with fragrant cream
From your toes up to your brow.
I’d like to boil your hankies
In an ancient pan
On a big coal fire..
Though the coal fires are long gone.
I’d like to rest my head
Upon your bony chest
I’ll test your antiperspirant
And the whiteness of your vest.
I’ll treat you very tenderly
and keep you free of dirt
For as they used to say one time:
Oh,how real loving hurts!
https://academic.oup.com/book/1312/chapter-abstract/140296678?redirectedFrom=fulltext
O
This theme, which gradually becomes clear to the reader, is foreshadowed in an early quotation: ‘Concepts can never be presented to me merely, they must be knitted into the structure of my being, and this can only be done through my own activity’ (M. P. Follett, Creative Experience).
The central concept which is presented to the reader and apprehended by the writer through the writing of the book has to do with the subjective way of experiencing and the role of this in creative process. Thus the book is in one sense a plea for the recognition of subjectivity as having its own place and way of functioning, just as legitimate and as necessary as objectivity, but different. As applied to education, it is pointed out that subjectivity must be understood by teachers, otherwise the objectivity aimed at must be in danger of fatal distortion. Painting comes in as a jumping-off place; it was the surprise of discovering the power to make ‘free’drawings’..
Written by me
The gravity of loss brought me to earth
Beneath the rotting leaves, I lay with worms.
I wondered if I were of any worth
No more to be enchanted by love’s mirth,
I with unnamed particles was turned.
The weight of loss bears down the heart to earth.
I could not rise alone but saw a path
While I slept new unity had formed
I learned I need not think of what I’m worth
My sorrow brought no guilt nor fear of wrath
I am both eagle and a twisted worm
In my little grave, I loved the earth.
Like the adder, shocked into rebirth.
I from silent underworld had learned
Not to judge my soul to be of worth.
I shall not fear the flames of hell that burn
When blackness is accepted, may one learn?
The weight of loss breaks down the soul to earth
With dusty shredded leaves, we then converse.
Stan was leaning over, cleaning the new bath.When the doorbell rang,he rushed downstairs and opened the double front door.
“Will you take this parcel in for the lady next door?” The postman asked wearily.
“Oh,fine Stan stuttered.He was trying to avoid Annie but here she was,coming down the road of superior semi detached houses suitable for ex-headmasters ,small businessmen,econometricians,surgeons,pie salesmen and theologians.
She was wearing perfume, and green sandals from TK Maxx,light khaki tencel cropped combat trousers with a purple silky over-blouse, not to mention her matching raspberry and cream underwear .Round her neck hung a miniature grandfather clock on a solid gold chain,and she had three imitation gold and silver watches on each of her three wrists making a total of 333 watches according to Carnap’s theory of logic and Russell’s terrible handwriting. Stanley didn’t know that she had a mobile phone stuffed into her bra—one advantage for the larger sized woman.In fact she had 4 down there in her raspberry coloured glamour bra,as she had a phobia about their batteries running down all at once
The more she had the lower the probability of her being without a phone whilst out and about the town and countryside.So she reasoned in her womanly way. Just then one phone rang.She rummaged around to the consternation and turmoil-uation of Stanley and the postman.She plucked out a pale blue phone.
“Hi,it’s Annie” she murmured.
“Hi Annie it’s Dave the paramedic with carpentry skills. You’ve not rung 999 lately so we were wondering if all was well!”
“Oh,I’m terribly sorry.I’ll try to phone later on.Thanks,Petal.That was Dave,our ex-transvestite converted paramedic”,she informed the men.The postman galloped off on his donkey, his bags full of undelivered males.It’s a tough but interesting life in Knittingham. Would you like a male delivery?Contact Parcel Force without delay.
Annie went into Stan’s house and demanded a cup of coffee.
“Won’t it make you put weight on” Stan quipped ironically.
“Do you think I’m too plump?” she responded anxiously..
“Too plump for what?” he quipped amiably.
“To attract men,of course!”
“No,my angel,you are just perfect”he quacked definitively.”Nor are you an angel,strictly speaking,as I have good reason to know.Thank you,my beloved for services rendered so generously and freely.”
“Oh,my goodness I must get home to render the fat from the beef and to make some gooseberry jam.” Stanley looked uneasy.
“I wonder why babies are left under gooseberry bushes?
The thorns are so big it’s quite dangerous getting them out,or so Mary told me when Lyra was born. She was covered in scratches and wouldn’t come near me for months.”
“Why don’t you come upstairs to look at our new purple bathroom suite.Since the Royal Wedding it’s the in colour.The gold taps were expensive but they do go well.”
“My God,let me out.” she bawled,”It reminds me of the Vatican and that’s no place for a lady”,
“Not even a gay lady?” Stan muttered parsimoniously, as he licked her eyelashes gently.
“Stop that.I’ve got my Yves St Laurent mascara on.”
“I prefer the taste of the Chanel,”he disclosed privately in an internal secret memo.[available on 50 years]
“Why not lick my neck instead?” she enquired curiously as she tripped over Emile the cat, who had slipped into the bathroom as usual to see what they were up to,you know what I mean, you catch my drift?
She fell floppily into the bath and banged her head on the taps.
“Oh,gosh,better ring 999” Stan said to Emile.
“Have you got your catphone warehouse mobile on you?”
“Yes ,it’s in my y-fronts”, the cat amiably miaowed.
“Hi Dave,this is Emile.Can you come quick.Annie is unconscious and what is worse,she has scratched the new bath.”
In fact it was Emile who had scratched the bath that morning but since Stan had not noticed he hoped to, callously, pass the blame onto poor Annie.How cruel can a cat be? Ask any mouse! Still in the end God made all of us and what a terrifying and beautiful world it is.
I tore my map on a sharp nail,
And let out an almighty wail.
but mother said “it’s alright,dear.
The world is still entirely here”
She fixed my map with sellotape,
Then wiped my face with baby wipes.
I went off to fly my kite,
And do you know,she was quite right
Published by
Correlation is not causation
My wife has left me for an adverb.
I don’t know which one it is!
Is it slowly,quickly, nearly?
Life should not be like a quiz.
She told me that she “nearly” loved me,
When “dearly” was what I had hoped.
Life is full of lost illusions…
How do deserted people cope?
I think I should have kept it secret,
For now I sit and sadly grieve.
Do you think my wife is cruel?
What a strange excuse to leave!
Would she leave me for a pronoun?
Would she leave for a full stop?
Would I leave you for a quote mark?
Would I fall into a dot?
Come back,darling for I love you.
I have learned I must take care.
I will go for grammar lessons.
I am sure I can learn flair!
We can write a poem together,
You can choose the topic,dear.
I will hold my pen and write for
They say true love drives out fear.
Did I fear her? Did I love her?
Was she worthy of my heart?
Did she dislike my hairy nostrils?
Was that why we had to part?
Come back Mary,come back Mavis.
Come back Sunny, come back Sue
Without my wife I feel quite lonely.
What is a poor man to do?
I admit I was unfaithful.
God made men to procreate.
Yet I loved my wife the best…
And how I loved her homemade cake
Please avoid thrilling people on the road
Please wave woefully
Please weep to yourself and do not bend
Please do not walk on the toad.
Please do not grow balls here.
Please lie off the band
Please tell the youth always
Please weep quieter.
Please tell the tutor if you feel dumb
Please note the dawn is for Dons only.
Please leap off the chimney breast
Please pass your zest and drive yourself round the clown
Please pay the piano on arrival.
Please plea before coming here.
Please bring your own oily paper.
Please let all bones knit before retrieval
Please keep all secrets in your bed.
No pies enrolled here.
No one sees my face with loving eyes.
No one touches tenderly this skin
Who unlocks the door with tender cries?
Who knows my heart and sees what is within?
Some look with contempt for I am old
I can scarcely walk yet I am me
Is there no one left with arms to hold?
If I can’t love one, may I love three?
You think I’m weak but I am very bold
My heatt has courage and my love is free.
Yet no one sees this face with yearning eyes.
At least let someone be here when I die.
Your face familiar faded qiute away
Where the dreams go when we are awake?
For every smile for every glance we pay
The heart aches with a numbness cold and grey
Before the day begins the day must break
The face that was familiar fades away
What would it take for atheists to pray?
The death of God is news but is it t fake?
For every smile for every glance we pay
on the River lea ice skaters play.
As the night falls all the world looks bleak
His face that was familiar fades away
I took him to the river what to say?
We cannot die with pride we must die meek
For every smile for every glance to pay
The force of nature of god’s violence reeks
Why are you silent now, will no one speak
Sweet face that was familiar fades away
For one more smile for one more glance we pay
If you want to learn anything new you have to be prepared to be a beginner, to feel ignorant. You have to be prepared to to not feeling in control of everything
We have to trust in the unknown and that might be very hard for people who have suffered trauma starvation cruelty etc
If you want to feel powerful and in control and knowledgeable without doing any work you will refuse to look at anything new and that is a very bad sing for most of us. That’s why we all need support from the teacher or a parent or a friend whom we trust enough to show them our vulnerabilities.
A
To write a poem will take our entire heart
Our mind and soul, our body and our dreams.
With trepidation,take a pen and start
Let preconceptions , though well meant, depart
Creative work evades such plans and schemes
To write a poem will shake the entire heart
We travel lands unknown without a chart
With our courage, trust the dark unseen
For inspiration,take our pens and write
We bite the apple, bitter, hard and tart
Knowledge enters in its dream -like streams
To write a poem will move each living heart
No logic, reasoning, signs, however wrought
Will bring to life the holy pattern’s themes
With each image, still your dreaming heart
The earth ,the oceans, seas, the sacred scenes
Where humans live out daily what life means
To write a poem , we need a mystic’s heart
We fill our empty pens,we make a start
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
