If your eye keeps falling on certain unattainable objects why not buy some glue?

That will keep you on the straight and narrow

Because you won’t be able to see anything else.

So are you  virtuous if you walk along the path of righteousness using such a technique? I think not

You should have chosen the broad path that led to destruction;at least you would have enjoyed yourself on the way.

And enjoyment is something that should not be spurned but sought after.

Joy is not the same as pleasure, of course.

Joy can include both loss and gain

I don’t like the idea of this narrow path that leads us to heaven just does not sound right to me.

On the other hand, you could be walking on the water with Jesus in some possible world.

Don’t tell anyone, but you read it here first

Yes, Destiny is the summation of all those circumstances we pre-arrange unknowingly

Masud Khan

The tulips pushed the primroses away
They took the pot from these innocuous plants
Nature is not kind in such display
The powerful plants can do just what they want.

However, I admire their flowers of red
The shape is elegant, the colour clear.
And had they been in a much bigger bed
Both flowers would give us pleasure without fear.

And now magnolias pink my eyes adore
Two of them I see from off the bus.
A visual parable, a story for
The short sweet life of all including us.

We deceive ourselves in order to survive.
But shallowness makes trivia of our lives

London is bewildered by its roads The Circular, the North,the South, th da wase QCodes The Morse and the Enigma, Turing broke So now we have new bicycles with spokes Once we had the A to Z in hand Turn it upside down and you’ll be grand New technology has made great strides Carrying us to Eden ,what a ride The motorways are empty for tonight God decided we had too much Light He taught the bare cheeked Moon on Jesus’ Mount To turn the other side when love’s about I liked to use a compass and a map But now, my dear, most everything’s on tap I crouch beneath my sister as she drives In the dark on the M 25 But if it’s closed, we are completely foxed We left the old Road Atlas in a box Along with all my ex’s underpants And naturally his principles of Kant We may be in Watford or in Bucks I often wonder what will rhyme with luck We may be near St Albans, we can’t see The car ran up the trunk of an oak tree We rang 999 and they are here A fire engine filled up with Kentish beer A ladder for the ladies to climb down Now they are just women on the town London exists no more as a real spot MI 5 are joining all the dots

I’m the only one still alive now

It’s the cancer. I’ve not  long left

You’ve been a good sister

For several days I was able to send messages to comfort her and help her and once you could no longer speak one of her sons read out one of my poems to her and a little smile came on her face.

She was still a devout Catholic I never believed that I would consider giving anybody some rosary beads or that  it might help anybody but in fact she told was she was using her fingertips because she had no beads to pray on and so I sent her some rosaries and she was holding them in her hands when she died.

I asked if I could have them then but they had left them in her hands.

So I have to get some more because it’s a sort of link to her and to my mother and others. I don’t think it’s idolatry. People need something to touch when they had no longer speak properly or at all and she knew when she touched them that I had sent them to her so it was all I could do since she was 160 miles away from me.

In a way hearing the diagnosis was worse than when she actually died because at first she was in a terrible mental state and was suicidal but she lived long enough to see her daughter’s second baby born and the baby was one month old when she died

Now the babys 10 months old and very lively and full of interest but of course she won’t remember my sister that is what is so sad for her mother.

Soul making is a phrase from Keats.{ link to article by Jeffrey C. Johnson in Paris Review]

We saw Wolf Hall on TV recently and it is so wonderful.I am just writing down a few  of my thoughts not  about that but about Anne Boleyn… I meant it to be funny but I could n’t manage that after seeing the play.

ANNE BOLEYN

Anne Boleyn withheld to win
As Henry lusted in his sin.

Once a virgin,sweet Madonna;
Henry turned in rage on her.

She bore him but one living child,
For her quips,she was reviled.

Henry knew not the fault was his
It seems the king had syphilis.

Or Anne was rhesus negative
then just her first born child would live.

We women make our worst mistake
When power for love we wrongly take

Our strength lasts but till we submit.
We need less love and far more wit.

Whatever lusty men may say,
their “love” dies when they get their way.

And they will take their wife by force
As cannons pound on oaken doors.

As for women,we must not
Promise gold we have not got.

Conception is a game of chance;
We come to be by happenstance.

we sin in pride in promising
What only God or Nature bring.

We deceive and trick and charm
At last our hearts bang in alarm

The man who begged upon his knees
Chops off our heads when we displease.

For Emperors and Kings and Lords
Wield fearful power by the sword.

Yet when for judgement they shall stand
How will point the knowing hand?

And just like us they’ll ashen be
When true majesty they see.

Into dust and crumbled ruin
they will go by their own doings.

Each day create with grace your soul.
Cracked shall be the golden bowl.

Keats wrote this extract below [read all by clicking on soul above[ and he died when aged  only 25 years:

I will call the world a School instituted for the purpose of teaching little children to read—I will call the human heart the horn Book used in that School—and I will call the Child able to read, the Soul made from that school and its hornbook. Do you not see how necessary a World of Pains and troubles is to school an Intelligence and make it a soul? A Place where the heart must feel and suffer in a thousand diverse ways!

https://dversepoets.com/2012/05/17/formforall-sprung-rhythm/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sprung_rhythm#:~:text=Sprung%20rhythm%20is%20a%20poetic,of%20accentual%20verse%20more%20generally.

It seems that our friends are part of our immune system in a very real sense to coin a phrase. If you see what I mean etc

We don’t need an excuse to hug our friends

Find a friend or family member and ask for a hug. That warm squeeze will give you a lift — and could even make conflict less upsetting, according to one study.

Hugging could also help your immune system, another study says.

Don’t put a comments box on your post because if people put comments on you’ll have to reply to them and that will take up your precious time.

Never read blogs written by other people. You have read all the great writers so why bother?

Don’t allow “likes” either because people might “like” things that they’ve not read

Then  the only statistics you get will be the number of visitors and their countries. You don’t even need to bother to look at that

So why would you continue to blog once you put all those restrictions on your blog?

Well you  just have to try it. You are still writing and someone might read it possibly but you will never know and you’ll certainly won’t know who they are or whether they are interested in the same things as you etc

Maybe you want to show your friends or your family that you have a blog but you don’t want anything negative written on it although as a matter of fact most people are very courteous and dont write really horrible comments like the following

Do you consider yourself to be a poet? You must be very conceited.

These poems are getting worse month by month so this is my duty to tell you that you’re wasting your time here. You’d be better off going for a walk.

Do you consider these  to be short stories? Even children wouldn’t bother to read them and they normally like  stories are some cartoons as well it might help but I can’t guarantee that unless you improve the quality.

Well if only you would stop writing it would free up 45 minutes of my time every day and I could stay in bed longer in the morning looking at the clouds go past  my window.

Of course I could ignore your blog but you might think that was rude

Perhaps you could write an article about why people like to stay in bed longer in the morning. And is it true when you are getting older?

Personally I’m sick and tired of being in bed and I’m in bed because I’m sick and tired.

I’m clever as well.

Anybody living in the United Kingdom might be relieved to know that when they reached the age of 80 they will get an increase in the state pension

25p a week+

https://www.bbc.co.uk/bitesize/articles/zmpxbdm#zpwm7yc

I am sorry that going to the pain in my hands at the moment I cannot do copying and pasting but this article is very worthwhile and it includes a video

It’s hard to find something at the right level and it does not make you have to memorize lots of long names that you will never really find useful in your writing

Because what matters is to write not to fast examinations about writing although it’s obviously very useful to know as much as you can manage of techniques even if you  don’t want to use them.

Electric pan I wonder who made you?

For those who have no coalfire you will do

I simmered eggs until they were just right 

I have no cooker; my into  gas will not ignite 

I like to play but  have no  children’s toys

I play with these devices. It’s no chore.

My cooker is a cupboard and  a store.

Please don’t read my writing. My head’s sore

Now I have got a kettle and a pan

No vibrators here,just algipan.

What kind of marriage could I have today ?

Till I am 82 I cannot say.

But when you have arthritis, life is hard.

At least today my cooking won’t be charred.

The blackened kettle singing on the fire

Electrified the water, I’m no liar.

The hot red fire made houses into homes

Electric vessels do not have such charm

So what conclusion do I reach tonight?

I say, thank God for our electric light.

Yet god himself does not create this light.

What’s the use of praying for good sight?

Oh, lidded kettle boil me water fast
I cannot live without your heated blast
Your spout is small but perfect for its use
And, as your lid is hinged. it can’t get lost

An electric kettle made by Russell Hobbs
A teapot with a spout and lid with knob
Are what the Britons need in times of storm
If crisis comes, we need tea hot,not warm

I don’t object to diverse kettle brands.
We had a coal fire once with kettle stand.
Its metal black from soot and burned by coke
We made our neighbours tea which seemed to smoke.

Ah,kettle ,instrument of civil life
We cannot boil our water on a knife

https://www.masterclass.com/articles/understanding-spondee-in-poetry

Are bring and buys considered decorous,Emily fretted.
Give  help immediately  to Jackie’s  kittens,Lorna.
My name often passes quotidian testing.
Why X-rate your zoom?
And buy cameras down Eastside  for Greta.
Have I Jolted Klaus’s lot?
My number often precedes quantities rendered silent.
To understand videos we x-ray  your zapper
As boys create dens essential for growth ,her inner Joker laughed merrily
Need often  precedes qualitative  results  so theory  uses  watery.X rays
Yonder zodiacs are better counted down each Friday given her inept jangling locks.
My needs often pessimistically quell roosting  turkeys.
Use version Waterman.X, yes,zero.
Amwell ,because Christmas Day exists for gaging her inner judge.
Lend me no open papers,questions rated summarily tested when?
Your X zapped Anna.Be clear,darling,
Enjoy framing geese,hens, joked Larry,
Men need  only present quarry sent to Wigan.
X Y Z

Shall I miss the journeys that we made
Up sheer cliffs and through deep muddy yards
Chased by  geese and then in heather laid?
I cannot catch you now, it is too far.

You cleaned my boots back in the cottage sweet
On the bed, you covered  me in  coats
Tenderly you stroked my crooked feet
And hot and sugared tea you once more brought

A dog stopped by and held out its clean paw
It shook your hand and gazed with amber eyes
Remote and cold, the Hartland Cliffs we saw
Where have you got to now, my love, disguised?

Danger and delight then drew us on
I cannot find your face, where have you gone?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/roger-housden/importance-of-poetry_b_884319.html

You may never have read a poem in your life, and yet you can pick up a volume of Mary Oliver say, or Neruda, or of Rumi, open it to any page, and suddenly find yourself blown into a world full of awe, dread, wonder, marvel, deep sorrow, and joy.

Poetry at its best calls forth our deep being. It dares us to break free from the safe strategies of the cautious mind; it calls to us, like the wild geese, as Mary Oliver would say, from an open sky. It is a magical art, and always has been — a making of language spells designed to open our eyes, open our doors and welcome us into a bigger world, one of possibilities we may never have dared to dream of.

This is why poetry can be dangerous as well as necessary. Because we may never be the same again after reading a poem that happens to speak to our own life directly. I know that when I meet my own life in a great poem, I feel opened, clarified, confirmed somehow in what I sensed was true but had no words for. Anything that can do this is surely necessary for the fullness of a human life.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/education/glossary/sprung-rhythm

According to Hopkins, its intended effect was to reflect the dynamic quality and variations of common speech, in contrast to the monotony of iambic pentameter. His own poetry illustrates its use; though there have been few imitators, the spirit and

My astral body floated to the wall

When I looked back I saw myself so pale

I was sitting at the table drinking tea

They told me to be strong but I had failed

I  had never heard of astral  tricks

I was down to earth no mystic bore.

But having cancer tore me into parts.

I felt I could not suffer anymore.

I sent an email to my sister dear

I told her how I felt and felt her near

I asked her could she write a poem sincere

Yet with  some humour to destroy my fear.

Time has passed, I know I’m in my grave

Remember me,oh love me and be brave

Please don’t keep up with the Joneses

Don’t buy 11 new cars

One is more than sufficient too many emissions

Will destroy the world faster by far

Compare yourself just to the humble.

Though stables are in short supply.

if Mary was satisfied we should be gratified

Never say, never say die.

we can survive a grave crisis

We must not drown in despair.

Find your good humour.

Not later but sooner.

We will all help each other to care

While there is life there is hope because while we’re alive we can change our perception and if we change our perception we will see new things that we’ve not been able to see before and one of those might be what we need

But if we are certain that we are right then we will not change our perceptions and we will try to inflict our views on everybody else.

The wisdom of these old sayings is very interesting and it shows that most of the things that we know where discovered by ordinary people not by academics

Of course there are some wonderful academics but sometimes I wonder about this

They told me I have got a urinary tact infection

You have to be careful where you pass water then.

Do you think it might be a urinary tax inspection ?

You have to tell them how much urine you pass in a day. I’m not sure what are the rate of tax is

If you have sepsis you stop passing water and so getting sepsis could be aware of avoiding tax although it may only be for a very short time before you die and then you would not have to pay any kind of tax

Do you mean that we are allowed to die in this country without paying any tax?

Yes if it’s a sudden death.

When we have assisted dying then you can notify the tax office of the date you’ve chosen and ask them are you liable for tax? If not you could die twice for the same price. That is free

When they say that they’ve got a virus what they mean is that a virus has got them

Viruses that kill people are not very sensible because the viruses will die when you die or soon afterwards. Is that why they put you in the fridge?

What is this sense of humour you’ve developed today? I blame it on the doctor.

I thought she was going to diagnose me with cancer and all it was was a bloody infection.

If it’s bloody you might have crystals in your urine.

That sounds promising can I sell them to anybody?

You see everything is transactional now even friendship.

So I’m offering my friendship on the following formula

One for the price of two.

In other words I will be your friend if you pay me double the normal rate and anyway who tells us what’s the normal rate for friends to be paid or to pay?

Of course we all pay the price of our sins but that is in a metaphorical sense… sin diminishes us. It limits our perception and therefore our behaviour based on that perception. So anything that improves perception changes the world that we see and then our own actions will change it more for other people.

We don’t hear the words sin much nowadays. But that doesn’t mean that there is none.It is a cunning trick.

By the way some parents in Germany have been forbidden to call their child Lucifer. The judge said it might limit the child’s job opportunities in adult life

Do you think that I’ve made that up? No it was in one of the leading newspapers in Britain

And where are they leading us I wonder in this confusing and dangerous era?

Time will tell but there’s a lot of disaster around

https://rheumatoidarthritis.net/living/friends-misunderstand-life

https://www.wrightswriting.com/post/2018/06/10/d-w-winnicott-on-playing

I remember playing with your face

Standing on your knee I saw you smile

With my childish fingers I would trace

Laughter lines and lips and how you smiled

I put my little hands on either side

And pushed your mouth together small and wide.

Then I laughed with joy that’l still abides

In the memory of our morning lives

Your eyes were blue and smiling like the sky

I loved to see you happy, see your joy

All to soon the Shadows would come by

And take away my dad your loving boy.

Yet in these little memories I can rest

Knowing my beginning was the best

https://www.vocabulary.com/dictionary/squiggle#:~:text=Squiggle%20originated%20in%20the%20early,derived%20from%20wriggle%20and%20squirm.

So it comes from combining wriggle and squirm and I think it’s a very beautiful word

Squiggle