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http://faso.com/fineartviews/25584/artists-personal-lives-does-it-play-a-role-in-how-you-view-their-art

Cubism simplified by Katherine

I bet Saatchi bought Tracey Emin’s bed because he was  confused and thought he was in Harrods shopping for new furniture.
I could paint better than Jackson Pollock because I can’t see in 3 dimensions.So I would not hesitate the throw paint all over a  large rectangle of paper.It’s a bit like Jesus feeding the five thousand…. as if they were birds
Wow,I missed my vocation.To be  divine.
I like Picasso.He liked bulls so logically it follows I like bulls  yet that is false so logic is rubbish or I  am of unsound mind

How  does your mind sound?

The candle flares, the match ignites the wick
The light made decorates the  Sabbath meal
Catch the moment,life goes all too quick

From the chaos, fragments must be plucked
Call it sense or do we have to steal?
The light flares as the match ignites the wick

From your fragment, make a  world of love
Do not question whether  it is real
Live the moment,life goes all too quick

Love is not created by the stick
Fear is what the little children feel
The light flares as the match ignites the wick

Watch children blowing bubbles and then kiss
The  happiness  before which saints might kneel
Catch each moment,life goes all too quick

From the inner eye the shutter peel
In that little space the world’s   revealed
The candle flares, the match ignites the wick
Catch the moment,life goes,ah, too quick

Can I be an addict to this form,
Not to drugs or drink but strands of words
The villanelle which enjoys many rhymes

How is it I give my little time
In making necklaces for singing birds
Can I be an addict to this form?

Well, writing many poems is no crime
Yet conversation’s better if it’s heard
A villanelle  gives voice by its two rhymes

I shall  wander round these capes and horns
Seeking solace ,nerves  still over-jarred.
Can I be an addict to this form?

Dare I say I write merely to warn
That gambling is not good unless it’s spare
Like villanelles  which have only half rhymes

My dearest love, I find my words unfair
When you never hear them nor refer
Shall I stay an addict to  your form,
The  man of humour,love and appetite.

https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/photon

My stomach ached and my rear end was sore
The book did not distract me from the pain
Weak as milk, I crawled across the floor

And there was no other through the door
If I fainted I would rise again
My stomach ached and my rear end was sore.

I grabbed  a book and read the words of Shaw
My nose bled brightly leaving a great stain
Weak as milk, I crawled across the floor

Oh, where was my cat Alfred  with his paws?
He could  sit  and never show disdain
My stomach ached and my rear end was sore

Would I were a worm without a brain
Would the good of humankind were plain
My stomach ached and my rear end was sore
Weak as milk, I cried upon the floor

Do not test  the patience of your friends
You loved ones, your dearest and your foes
By silent drawing back when near the end

In any case soon darkness will descend
And into dust and debris we will go
Do not test  the patience of your friends

Stretch out your hand across the ocean wild
Despite the gales and fiercest winds that blow
Do not draw back when life’s near the end

Silence  makes us holy or defiled
Let that not be turned to evermore
Do not  try the patience of your friends

To those you loved and hated, your words send
Forget the  testing and the keeping score
And silent drawing back when fear doubt lends

Life can have an open or closed door.
Meaning is what  we humans are here for.
Do not despair  or  throw off your old friends
By silent drawing back when  near the end

Shelves of well used books on food and wine
Stab me in the heart and in the mind
Now it is a task to eat at all
No appetite, no will,no hunger call.

The peppers red  have turned to mush and juice
Courgettes dissolve to water if left loose
The bacon looks as tempting as a toad
The bread is going green ,so a la mode

Yet Weetabix is not a dish to share
No man or woman’s tempted by such fare.
An egg on toast may pass for a real meal
One swallows it with no attempt to feel.

Yet starving is a slow and foolish way
Get a gun or from this madness  stray.

My biggest disappointment in life was going to school
How come?
I thought we’d be learning Greek
What in the Primary School when you could not even read English
Well babies here speak English before they can read anything
A good point.
Perhaps they speak Greek too but their parents don’t know.
Why not?
Because they don’t speak Greek.
An intriguing theory

How much is to Yark?
Where is it?
In North Yarkshire.
Why do you speak like that?
Like what?
Well how do you pronounce  pork?
Park!
And how do you say Park
Paheck.
Why the heck?
We love the word “heck” especially with no aitch
What’s an aitch?
It’s what we leave off until we pass the 11 plus
Suppose you fail?
Do you mean fehil?
Why the aitch in the middle?
To separate the vowels
You mean the vawls?
Now, you are doing it
On Ilkley Mohor ba’ht  ‘at
Be orf
You  must mean, be arf
To b or not to b
To h or not to h
Go and come no more
Frum Hilkley Mohor ba’ht ‘at

The men we lost in Europe,it destroyed
A generation  childless ,loveless,dumb
It’s madness making  suicidal wars

Women  lost their lovers so employed
Were made to live  in chastity like nuns
The men we lost in Europe,love destroyed

In our own heart love  dwells at the core
And like attracts what’s like itself to come
It’s madness making  suicidal wars

Does it matter if we’re nuns or whores
Life flows like our blood does when we’re  done
The men we lost in Europe,us destroyed

Should we wonder what our life is for?
Is this  what they call a practice run?
Is madness causing  suicidal wars?

Kings and Queens sat on  their idle thrones
While the poor fought till they were but bones
The wars we won in Europe,it destroyed
Do men  enjoy these  everlasting wars?

Yes, red berries glow in  clear sunlight
And holly tree’s  sharp leaves give home to birds
But I am weary, ready for the night

Yes,in winter no mosquitoes bite
But coldness slows the flow of mind and word
Yet red berries sway in   breeze and light

If I were a bird, I might take flight.
To ourselves compassion must be turned
For  all are weary, ready for the night

Compare a  nuclear bomb to nature’s might
Violence and destruction  come unearned
While  blood red berries boast in   base sunlight

Crowds are gathered ready for a fight
Verbal  violence lashes and hate burns
Now I  weary, ready for the night

One wrong word might make our world  ignite
Danger sends its lovers their invites
While red berries  taunt in  love’s sunlight
I am weary, ready for the night

By Mike Flemming 2018 Copyright

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/70139/the-poetry-of-world-war-i

How much does it cost to get a hair cut?
Sorry, we don’t do  just  one hair.

How much is a shampoo?
Ten pounds more than you expect.

How much is a blow dry?
Sorry,I am out of breath.

Can you dye my hair?
I can dye it but I shan’t

Would red hair suit me?
For what?

Will a perm attract men?
No,  they are too impatient to sit for that long

How shall I look when I’m dressed up?
The same.

Am I overweight?
No, under-height.

Do you like my new coat?
Stop fishing for compliments.

Shall I have a full body massage?
No, get married again

I can’t get married again
Why not?
I have never been married

Can I date on the Internet?
In theory.

Do you have to pay for joining Soul Mates
Check your grammar.

Why are pronouns important?
To or for whom?
I see

Can I go to Bath now?
Not unless you’d like to get in with my husband
I mean on a train
Sorry, the bath is not on a train.
I was told to go to Paddington.
Why, is it a good place to pick up men?
I don’t want any men,I want Bath
I know you are foreign but we say  ” a bath”
I want to get to a Bath as I am meeting my sister  there
As well as my husband.I wonder how much  hot water we have
What has water got to do with it?
I see, you want a dry bath?
It would be nice if it were dry as I have no mac
No,dear.You don’t need clothes in a bath
You mean  they are all nudists?
Who?
The Citizens of Bath.They can’t come here anyway.
Nobody can except my husband
And you
Well, we are married.
Can you prove it?
We have the same surname
You might be siblings
Wow, that sounds grand but I only speak SQUINGLISH
And so say all of us

Customer: “How much does it cost to Bath on the train?”
Operator: “If you can get your feet in the sink, then it’s free.”
—————————–

How much is it to Rome?
While we are in the EU it’s free.
I don’t believe that.
Quite right.I am a liar.
You admit it?
I boast of it.
And to think you work for Transport for London
Sorry,I am only here to  check the i Phones
Why don’t they use landlines?
Well, when the Channel Tunnel shuts there won’y be any land under the sea.
When will it shut?
When we leave the EU.
That is odd.Why?
EU no wanna see U!

Hidden in the sprawl of suburbs green
Extended semis,kitchens full of tools
Ancient houses where the long lost dreamed

Visited by Tudor king and queen
Here to hunt,to gain release from rule
Hidden in the sprawl of suburbs green

Keats’s autumn mists  and mellow streams
Where children loved to fish in  dark  cool, pools
Edged by houses where the long gone dreamed

In new kitchens, butcher’s sharp knives  gleam
See tall fridges where the meat is cooled
Common in the sprawl of suburbs green

Busy parents don’t hear children scream.
Welcome to the demons of misrule
In the houses where no-one can dream

Now time  is racing,  pauses are for fools
Post and pre, our modern life is cruel
Hidden in the sprawl of suburbs green
Ancient houses, would that I could  dream,

The government have appointed a minister for loneliness but from people I know I can see they don’t take up chances to do activities  or go to places where they might meet others
One lady is a brilliant knitter but will not go to a group of knitters weekly as ” they are all old people” and so is she
She liked going to church but stopped.She stopped attending an art class as they were all strangers… well, that is obvious.I think she is affected by class and status too and we are all guilty of forgetting other people have less money or less education than the middle class.
I asked a couple of people would they come to an art class and they immediately said they were no good.I was told I was no good at school but found I was better than I expected~
So fear of failure still affects us even after working and bringing up children the sharp  blows of childhood and  unkind teachers still stop us having a go at something.
I wonder what this minister will do.I have a number of Catholic neighbours who have hardly spoken to me since I was widowed but 2 Muslims have been wonderful as have some atheists
I suppose the message of compassion  in the Bible is not strong enough to overcome the fear of experiencing another person’s grief;or  you fear that they will  become dependent on you.
So if we live alone, let’s see if we can help ourselves a bit as well as hoping for new initiatives from the Government.
I have a very friendly spider in the bathroom.That’s a start,I guess!

Moral hurt shames poor and homeless folk
They feel harassed, and hungry  for a share
While wasting money to the rich’s a joke

We look at those above us and their work
Seek to imitate, to get their wares
Moral hurt shames poor and homeless folk

And yet they gamble , some will dare to smoke
Criticise them, don’t they see it’s fair,
When wasting money to the rich’s a joke

See  designer jeans on butts that stalk
You have a connection to Nowhere
Moral hurt shames poor and homeless folk

Should we give more money to make hope?
Will we meet God’s eyes for will we dare?
When wasting money to the rich’s a joke

On the day of judgement, all are bare.
The emperors of earth lie low and swear
Moral hurt shames poor and homeless folk
While wasting money to the rich’s a joke

http://www.openculture.com/2016/03/scientists-discover-that-james-joyces-finnegans-wake-has-an-amazingly-mathematical-multifractal-structure.html

“And yet, reports The Guardian, scientists at the Institute of Nuclear Physics in Poland have found that James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake—a novel we might think of as perhaps the most self-consciously referential examination of language written in any tongue—is “almost indistinguishable in its structure from a purely mathematical multifractal.” Trying to explain this finding in as plain English as possible, Julia Johanne Tolo at Electric Literature writes:

To determine whether the books had fractal structures, the academics looked at the variation of sentence lengths, finding that each sentence, or fragment, had a structure that resembled the whole of the book.

And it isn’t only Joyce. Through a statistical analysis of 113 works of literature, the researchers found that many texts written by the likes of Dickens, Shakespeare, Thomas Mann, Umberto Eco, and Samuel Beckett had multifractal structures. The most mathematically complex works were stream-of-consciousness narratives, hence the ultimate complexity of Finnegans Wake, which Professor Stanisław Drożdż, co-author of the paper published at Information Sciences, describes as “the absolute record in terms of multifractality.” (The graph at the top shows the results of the novel’s analysis, which produced a shape identical to pure mathematical multifractals.)”

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