Category: Thinkings and poems

I saw the light

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I was once an  outspoken agnostic

My harsh words could sound frightfully caustic

But I saw the light

Turn green in my sight.

So I repaired my own soul with some bostick       [glue sold in UK]

 

The body’s own soul is the face

Which often is lit up with grace.

So   I am  gentle when gazing

On you, when embracing.

And take care in your sweet sacred space.

Round about a dot.

Part I
On either sighed the river lyre
Long fields of curley and of bye,
That tell the told and right the wry;
And though  they yield, the toad runs by
       To its  sandy, dried alloy
The hallowed siege by water pulley
The  clean and unsheathed bread knife dally
Shambled  on her daughter’s filly
       Round about  a dot.
Pillows whiten, aspirins shiver.
The sun-famed showers broke a willy
In the stream that runneth weather
By the island in the river
       Flowing down the Com   and dot
Four gay wails, and four gay hours
~Underlook a spice of dowers,
And the silent isle implored
       The Lady of WhatsNott
Underneath the bearded charlie,
The reaper, reaping slate and silver,
Fears her ever wanting cheery,
Like an angel, ringing early,
       O’er the cells of Camelot.
Beguiles the leaves in furrows hairy,
Beneath the loon, the reaper teary
Listening whispers, ‘ ‘Tis our Mary,
       Lady of WhatsNott’
The little isle is all entailed
With a hose-pence, and overtly tail’d
With roses: by the barge unhail’d
The shallop flitteth silken sail’d,
       Skimming down to What is Nott
A pearl garland signes her screed:
She leaneth on a velvet beed,
Pull loyally apparelled,
       The Lady of Whats Hott.
 
No time hath she to court  a nerd:
By charmed fib she seized  her bird
A purse is on her, if she’ll gray
Her leaving, oversight or pay,
       To sulk more down  on Whatt is Knott
She knows not what the hearse may be;
Therefore she leaveth stealthily,
Therefore no other bare, hath she,
       The Lady of TopKnott
She lives with little boys who play.
With her daughter, running here,
The cheap cell tinkles in her ear.
Before her sings a mirror clear,
       Reflecting hours in CamAlot.
And as  in the internet she whirls,
She sees the surly pillage hurled,
And the wed oaks of driven earls
       Passed to cloud from NottAlott.
Sometimes a ship of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling lad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd ‘s bad,
Or long-hair’d rage in crimson bled,
       Goes by to tower’d Cameuplot:
And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue
The night comes guiding two by two:
She hath no cool old  knight it’s true,
       The Bath of old Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
Sees the mirror’s magic bytes,
For often thro’ the silent fights
A funeral plumed with traffic  lights
       And loose it came to Blamelot:
Or when the moon was overheard
Came two young lovers lately wired;
‘I am half sick of shadows,red
       The Lady lost her Plot

How poetry can change lives

 

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/poetryandplaybookreviews/9020436/How-poetry-can-change-lives.html

 

  • Extract

The Wisconsin poet Nick Lantz’s collection, We Don’t Know We Don’t Know, brings together the natural history of Pliny the Elder and the wittering of Donald Rumsfeld to extraordinary effect, forcing us to ask questions about how our vision of the world and our political attitudes are manipulated by the powers that be. Apparently personal, apolitical lyrics by Lucie Brock-Broido, say, or Alan Shapiro make us think again about the dynamics of our day-to-day relationships with other creatures, from spouses and children to the wild things that we keep forgetting are out there, where the suburban garden or the porch light ends.

All of these poets insinuate their way into our lives with their music and wit, but they stay on to make us think again about how we live and what we are capable of – just as poets have always done. Poets today are as challenging, both of public life and private accommodations, as Andrew Marvell was when he gently confronted Oliver Cromwell’s foreign policy in his “An Horatian Ode Upon Cromwell’s Return from Ireland”; or, in more intimately reflective mode, TS Eliot was, when he drew together and made immediate essential philosophical ideas about the basic facts of life – time, place, endurance, the difficult disciplines of love – in the Four Quartets. As much as it has ever done, poetry renews and deepens the gift that most surely makes us human: the imagination. And that is as essential to public as it is to private life, because the more imaginative we are, the more compassionate we become – and that, surely, is the highest virtue of all.

 

Fish dancing with the daffodils

Posted on

I flindered lobely as a  blouse
That sleats on high o’er biles and phrills,
When at a seance I saw a fowl
The ghost, of hilden waffotills;
Depide the blike, Coneath the blees,
Pluttering and strancing in the  frieze

Conpentred as the hores did pont
And swondleon the mokiway,
They  briched in never-blinding stine
Along the gargins wovt a rey:
Ten thousand jaw, I ater a  flounce,
Wessing their shids in glightly spance.

The Daves deside them panced but loy
Out-did the sparkling waves in schlee
A waite could not clutt ie glay
In juch a ferund  timpanee:
I glazed- and jazed- but little ploat
What  gealthy wasps shrew  thlee  had cloght:

For poft, when on my louch i pi
In racane or in trensive slood,
They flush upon that innard plie
Rich is the blass of molitude;
And then my tart with  leisured gills:
Fish dancing with the daffodils

Their assessment of our hearts endures.

The fear of judgement makes life harsh with pain.
The eyes that spy, the words we spoke in vain.
When we age we have a wider  view
We’re not so strange nor so very new.

The dream of being back at school once more.
Where  teachers power extends most to that door
We’re imprisoned to make  a  safe  society;
Creation from  the young  makes jeopardy.

We protect ourselves from children’s  open minds
It’s we who’re frightened and we make the bind.
It is the eyes, the thoughts, the innocence we fear.
Their assessment of our hearts endures.

And they are frightened by the Judge we haul
To destroy or mould the newness of their calls.
Till in a mirrored palace we display
The heads of those who wished to change our ways.

Children need protection from the strong
But we , too, need protection from their songs

I have wandered off the sacred track

I have wandered down a long and ill made track.
Down footpaths that seemed intriguing,  yet were  stark
I have wandered,  wondering at my lack.

 

I wandered, crossed the dry earth and its cracks
I   passed through corn fields hidden in the dark
I have wandered off  the preplanned track

I am like a gypsy with no pack
In the sky ,I hear the little lark
I have wandered, blaming my ill luck

I am lost and never shall get back
Despite the sun, I feel  the thump of dark
I have wandered off the  sacred  track

My heavy  thoughts have often  turned near  black;
Lured the dog which torments with its bark.
I have trembled as the bullets snack.

Were we flooded, I could take the Ark
Were I braver, I’d with generals talk.
I have wandered off the map and track
I have walked unknowing  what we lack

Why do some people make us feel better?

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https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/your-personal-renaissance/201606/why-do-you-feel-better-around-certain-people

 

Jonathan Haidt’s research (2003) has revealed that when we witness to acts of kindness, altruism, and moral courage, we respond  with elevation—a warm, expansive feeling in our chests and sense of inspiration that makes us want to be less selfish, more altruistic ourselves. Studies by Michelangelo Vianello and his colleagues (2010) have shown that when leaders demonstrate an altruistic commitment to their ideals and act with fairness, they cause a ripple effect on the people around them, transforming their cultural atmosphere. Experiencing elevation, their followers respond with greater altruism, courtesy, cooperation, and citizenship. One altruistic person can make a powerful positive difference.

You feel this little lift in your heart

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Niall Williams >  Quote

Niall Williams

“Some people make you feel better about living. Some people you meet and you feel this little lift in your heart, this ‘Ah’, because there’s something in them that’s brighter or lighter, something beautiful or better than you, and here’s the magic: instead of feeling worse, instead of feeling ‘why am I so ordinary?’, you feel just the opposite, you feel glad. In a weird way, you feel better because before this you hadn’t realised or you’d forgotten human beings could shine so.”

Dictated entry to soulmates.hell

Finally educated woman with own mature ears is looking for a man with bad taste .First class with guitar and likes to imitate Leonard Cohen money welcome but not essential ;good appetite welcome, bad manners unwelcome. I have got  a void  inside me but I’m sure that if you put some compost in despite the fact that I am now 59 and 3/4  we could always try it in a plant pot instead of my room; that’s  interesting , about love in a plant pot now there’s an idea have you ever thought about  it yourse.
lf if you are  ring me on the following number 44 that’s the United Kingdom dialling code and then the number is 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 9 please ring me between 4 and 4 p.m. in the afternoon on a Sunday unless you are of a religion that makes it impossible in that case make it Monday 5 to 5pm
If you would prefer to email me then use the following email address@ idolisedwoman @zmale.com. I not know where to meet you if you live in the same City as me; if not we could use Skype or Facebook messaging send me your selfie buy attachment only no further attachments will be accepted as I am very interested in introversion and believe that any new man in my life but also be an introvert like Trump there’s an introvert if ever I saw one  See how Carl Jung was quite wrong when he put his mind to it but never really in the world ,no one could ruin the word except a man extrovert .That’s what I believe; I’ve been doing research now for 45 years into this topic and it’s all been ruined by Donald Trump because I would never have  dreamed that millions of people will be willing to accept him as their Saviour ;it is like a religion sickness.That word isn’t right but it’s like the devil worship which used to be quite common here in England. The god Pan once half man half goat and therefore was a  god over time before civilisation , when people take notes and put them down in milk and ink years ago. I would like to find a man who would be able to pay the power , will make me a cup of tea in the morning and smile at me twice yearly that will do me so I’m not  really demanding an idiosyncratic man.
Examiner, please press 9 on your keypad now.
Waiting for the long haul

Mistakes made by email dictation

Woman, 78, evil with good eyesight.Seeking man, similar rage eand good crookery an advantage.Knowledge of sin cards welcome.
Smartphone owner but scene to learn and adore more than snappy.Must eat cheese in bed.Will be charged weekly by Amazon power cord.Non-diver acceptable if nobody better applies.Lovability is the pain idea.Please send selfies to 449011117666090909 or email me at ira-eviloutlook@gwail.com with no current attachments from kegel photos/

 

Replacing it to give us truer sight

The home I once thought beautiful has  gone
And strangers bid to pass their views as gifts
The eyes I look through now are  almost done
The world  shall fall apart;it shall be swift.

For sorrow casts a shadow grey and bleak.
A cataract of the spirit makes life grim
We do not understand nor do we speak
Our generosity seems to be thin

On the lens of eye the surgeon works
Replacing it  to give us truer sight
But on the eye of soul we seem to shirk
Not knowing we are isolate from light.

In these spaces, few there are who  talk
And long grey shadows  seemingly do stalk

God’s sacred smile

 

 

fernforestnz

http://home.btconnect.com/mike.flemming/

 

We dwelled inside a sphere of holy love
Which we and angels shared for just a while
Where our below is linked to  heaven above
To  cradle us inside God’s sacred smile.

This state of grace  in which I sang for you
Made all the Ward  turn holy for an hour
As to my love I ever would be true
Even now he was become a withered flower.

Earth to earth and ash to ash we go
With dear hearts holding us in case we fall
And being flesh we all must undergo
An end or new beginning of our call.

 

Once he died, the sphere of grace was gone.
Yet in my mind, that smile will linger on

 

Trope?

http://english.stackexchange.com/questions/94634/what-is-a-trope-and-how-does-it-differ-from-a-metaphor

Definition

Courage rises even as I moan

From   time and place  and  season I am  lost,

Disorientated ,missing  tracks well worn.

Do not suppose I’m unaware of cost,

Nor label me with epithets of scorn.

For usual paths lead to the  usual place.

The safest way to live and perhaps to die.

But wandering through the woods  I find new space

and in  wild  grasses  with the fox I lie.

Through  distant trees, i see a way to go

as narrow as a slit in pallid stone

This is my destined way, I seem to know

And courage rises even as I moan.

Remember when we’re lost ,we  may then find

Another way,a place,another mind.

While at the same time feeling calm and love

One thing that in the past I might’ve been ashamed to tell anybody was that one week before my husband died, although we didn’t know then  when he was going to die,  he woke up in the morning and he said to me
I’m feeling very angry with you. I was angry when I went to sleep and I’m still angry now I woke up.
I felt very sad. I would have felt that it was  my fault normally, but after looking after him for more than 8 months just when I had had a lengthy operation on my own face by the time this morning arrived you can imagine  the feeling of a state of terrible anguish while at the same time feeling calm and love; when  you  are no longer in that state you can’t remember what it was like [ maybe that’s a good thing.]
So then he said, I am very angry that you are more intelligent than I am. So I said to him, love, you knew what I was doing when you met me that is doing higher studies in mathematics and also even doing some teaching in the university and I said ,to try the tricks with humour, they didn’t teach domestic science at Oxford
And anyway I didn’t agree. I said I don’t agree with you, we just have different sorts of intelligence so then he went, When we got married I taught you how to play chess[ that is true he did] and then he said and the very first game you beat me and that’s why I have never played with you again.
I don’t know why you never played with me again but I was glad as I didn’t like it I don’t like competitive games like chess I like to do things which are totally different from mathematics
And then he said a few other things that managed to get through the gaps in his mind about him hating me and some horrible as well
I can’t actually remember what it what they were but then I was touched deeply in My Heart by Compassion for him and I said to him :
I think I was a little bit irritable with you sometime yesterday and I’m very , very sorry darling I am   tired now looking after you all day and some times reading you stories about Emile and Stan and Mary in the night when you feel bad, but I’m very, very sorry I got irritable;he looked at me didn’t say anything he was still in bed and then after about half an hour he became his normal self and for the next week he was as kind and good has anybody could be given the situation.
He was in a place not a hospital  and two days before he died I was there in the evening. I’d been there all afternoon I was there in the evening.He is lying flat more or less and he was trying to say something and I leaned over to try to understand and he said , How are you going to manage?
I don’t know whether he meant how was I going to manage without him or whether he was just wondering how I’d to manage to get home that evening. I assumed the second and assuring him that  I heard him I could get a cab to bring me home and I have some frozen food which I could make a meal from so I said,
Good night. When I went in the next day he was very ill and they sent for an ambulance and took him to the hospital and he was there in  A and E for 19 hours; it was really beautiful. I fed him some soft food on a teaspoon then I sang psalms and lullabies and then he died just like going to sleep except he had leaned over towards me and give me a big smile he looked very happy. For a moment, I thought ,so he is getting better but then he went just like that.He left me.My task was a success.

That epileptic wit

 This shows the perils of dictation!
I am really happy with this speechnotes it’s an app’ actually you can get it as an app from the Google Play or you can just look online and get it.You use it online; you don’t have to download any software which is particularly good if you use a Chromebook, You can’t download any software on that anyway .
I wanted to do a lot of the things I was using on my Windows computer like Artweaver; you can get very similar things online, for example instead of art weaver for which you have to download software you can use pixlr editor which is meant to editing photographs.
It’s online so you don’t have to get software and I have looked at it and used it quite a lot .Many of the tools that you can use are almost identical to Artweaver.It seems a bit unfair really because I think with Artweaver there is a professional version and I have never felt  my work has reached that point where I need a professional version because I use it to make my own style of pictures.which are not like everything I’ve ever seen in books Because when I started doing it I couldn’t find any books about it so I just play with it and I suppose  the first thing that really affected me was very , very simple it was inverting the colours in the photograph. I had a photograph of some people standing by the church gate in the marketplace. It’s a Norman church it’s quite attractive ; for some reason, I think accidentally did it.I am very surprised by it ; it looks as if it was taken at night with snow on the ground ; I don’t know how to explain it but it affected  me .so initially that’s all that I used to do.
At some point I’m ,where are the things that you can do right ,use a tool on your own picture that is called Curves, if you move it up and down you can change the colours sometimes quite dramatically and then there were two pictures and that which I think are very, very good one is made from a photograph of my leg with my hands on my calf and it’s Just in brown and cream and it’s a very moving image .
Another one that I believe is very good partly because it has many people saying that but I agree with them.It’s from a picture of the gardens at Melton House and it’s a  tall, old brick wall with a Wisteria in a corner so you know if someone said to me will you make another one like that ,I wouldn’t be able to do  one exactly like that be honest I do so many alterations that I don’t make a note of these, sometimes I remove them and change it back then make changes even more and it will be impossible to tell you how I got it unless I was willing to spend hours and I know it in every possible move and what the  consequences for the picture which I’m not willing too do  because I want to do  more creation.
I don’t want to explain things to peopl.on’t know why but I must confess that they have complained about me explaining things too much and that might be a factor possibly and also with your teacher life  while find that my husband used to say things about me telling you how to do things and saying it is because I was a teacher but I don’t think it was. Is it because he was asking me how to do things like put a light bulb in and were af three point plug on symmetrical object leaving know how to do it so hard to explain it or show him I found it he is very somebodI and if you’re still playing it to work um i’m not gay yetyet but maybe I started explaining all things seem like the meaning of the universe. I think that’s the other way around that that’s what he would  explain to me or anything anyway sometimes when you’re intimate with somebody for a long time you do to get to feel hurt a very angry with them and he got angry that often and I think sometimes it when he was on his medication for diabetes you get hypoglycemia when the blood sugar falls very low and when that happens, you can get very aggressive. you felt myself about the People next door he went up to the premier shop to pay their they’re not supposed ability to one for the paper shop and ask them for some meat she’s a lady his new told him no but she’s a further along but after a few minutes he went back in and they forcing me to go and she told him she thought he should come home and luckily he managed to walk the 10 minutes or so alright without falling and the previous night or the one before I left her name is it had one of those dreadful parties and we both couldn’t sleep the whole night and I suppose it’s not just that you’re awake it’s the fact that you can’t do anything about it because they have been rather nasty to have when they first came here so we came down the street and he was his wife is there any buses running in a graveyard or I can see if wife is my Russian Jewish boyfriend also what is who’s very very white skin new is very dark hair and brown eyes, well my husband was really pale you went next door banging on the door somebody came out and he said to them in a very loud voice next time you have a party tell us and we’ll go away for the weekend ;well after that they never had another party; sometimes they used to have parties that they have no music at all the only time that their daughter’s 16th allowed out of a party in the back garden. Ravenstone Hitler’s plans for the young people because before somebody probably put it on Facebook and there was a hello in Ireland as it happened I think I am gastric food and I was in bed so is on the other side of the house but I’m still here around the Manor Croft I said hey what’s going on I said I don’t know it’s Charlotte’s birthday anyway before very long where are the fire and it wasn’t because one of the young people that are epileptic fit and he or she had not taken their medication with them so she ran across the road and not him that are delightful never tells you she really is a saint she makes you feel better when you’re with me even though you don’t speak or tell her anything just being with her,you feel better.I found that after my husband died t and she will come to a person trying to revive this teenager waiting for the ambulance and the side gate open all the young people walked out in a line and  walked away down the street that was the end of the party the personal MBA collective it was ok nothing he could have been in the music and if they are those lights what are they called strobes that can bring on an epileptic fit even if you don’t normally have epilepsy is very strange thing because many of the saints like Saint Paul for example had a vision ;if you now thought that some people with it in fact they were epileptic and when you have a bad fit that you can see either demonic figures or you can feel very wonderful person this week she wouldn’t share with you as being from God wouldn’t you to Christianity mobile let me hold you to him ; epilepsy if St Paul’s hadn’t it epilepsy then he wouldn’t be any Saint Paul; that makes you think doesn’t it
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In such captive grief

How like a prison is my cubicle
How wary is  my body on this chair.
How still my heart and yet how truly fickle.
How fast it flies to you who are not here.

How elegant your letters and your thoughts
How gentle was your touch upon my throat.
And yet you killed  my words and all I brought...
You were no lover but a randy goat.

As in this mental jail I'm  neatly trapped,
I'll use this time to write and  also pray.
Perhaps my mind can extricate a map..
From which I'll plot the route to get away.

The prisons which seem external are inside
Yet in such captive grief, we humans  die.

The unthought known

photo1401
There is a very strange concept now in psychoanalysis called
” the unthought known”,
I think it refers to something in the patient which they experienced and so know but they had not then learned words ,so if it was too painful it constantly bothers them  yet they can’t explain it or tell anyone.This is why psychoanalysis takes so long and even then I am unsure if a therapist can supply what the mother couldn’t
Perhaps if we know that we will never understand some of our feelings and worries but can accept them even if we don’t want to. then we can live with them.

Woman kept for 20 hours on a trolley in a mixed hospital corridor next to a tom cat.

snow
BBC weather,Brough in snow.

Mary was going to the hospital wearing her new magenta padded coat and an orange felt hat just like the one her mother used to wear when she went to church, although her mother had never had an orange hat. It would have been considered  very bad taste.
In her hand was a long green handbag ; inside this  sat her cat Emile.He was very naughty because he wanted to come to the hospital with her. Emile being a cat will probably not be admitted into the waiting room if she mentioned it to anyone; however ,she was hoping he would keep still.
She did not want to let the cat out of the bag at the wrong moment ,especially when she was seeing a lady doctor.
But the staff are so busy they might not notice that he is a cat and  before he knows what is happening he may be admitted to the hospital and left lying on a trolley in a corridor for 25 hours. Unlike a human being, Emile is not very patient and he will certainly not lie prone on a trolley all night waiting for the kindness of strangers. As a matter of fact he speaks good English and could easily hold his own in a male ward. Nowadays many of the wards are mixed and would you want to wake up in the morning next to a Tom Cat. That would certainly hit the headlines .
Woman kept for 20 hours on a trolley in a mixed corridor next to a tom cat!At least he is neither a lion nor a lamb.
BTW Theresa May asked corridors to be relabelled as wards and  bathrooms  to be labelled as,
Wards for one with ensuite.
Where will all the other patients be able to relieve themselves….commodes?

I asked the nurse to give to me her food

Oh evil chance,  one day this week I fell

They  sent  me to thehospital , such fun!

I saw the lovely  nurses in the hall

And hoped they would not send me to the bin

 

The x-ray of my  hand  caused horrid pain

The curled up finger straightened with a push

And this impacted me, my body and my brain

And on my face , it caused a  curious flush

 

There is no obvious fracture to be seen

They reckon it’s a tendon that is stuck

It’s rather difficult pulling up my jeans

What goddess  has given me such luck

 

The snow down fell , the  wind was fierce and  cold

The weather matched the Misery of my moods

But when I had some coffee I felt bold.

I asked the nurse  to give to me her food



I  truly enjoyed going out today

And now I’ll sell my memoirs on E -bray

 

When I did this using the microphone it came up with some very rude words.Of course,  the computer does not know that they  are rude,I suppose!

Get up!

Most successful writers do their work in the morning. For a practice that some have dubbed the midnight disease, it’s surprising to note that most famous authors aren’t the slaves of spontaneous inspiration, but instead, all write in the early hours of the morning.