Forlorn is a word Describing a state of loss One’s personal pain. Dejected,losing The love we lived with so long Down and no way up. Travelling blindly This tunnel of stone and grit I hope to emerge,
Category: Thinkings and poems
I’ll love you till I die
‘Twas but a reptile passing by.
It flew across the deep blue sky
Why do reptiles fly so high?
I’ll love you till I die.
‘Twas but a cat under the moon.
Did you have a silver spoon?
Why can’t cats all waul in tune?
I’ll love you very soon
‘Twas but a wooden legged man,
Carrying a brass saucepan.
Why can’t men when women can?
I’ll love you better than.
Why are adverbs?
What are nouns?
why do circuses have clowns?
I’ll love you lying down.
Where do dreams go in the day?
What game can we adults play?
Can you or can you not say?
I’ll love you,in my way.
‘Twas but a verse that seemed so free.
It floated over my oak tree.
I have eyes but cannot see.
I’ll love you when I be
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I’ve been arrested for writing muddy verses.Is it a crime to text wit?
Sorry, I can’t answer the phone.I’ve gone out for a stalk or a flower
Sorry, I am not here.They gave me too many injections and I’m not whole yet nor am I partial to your moaning constantly
Sorry I can’t take your call.I am planning to shoot myself tonight but if I survive I’ll write you an email tomorrow.
Sorry I am not in.I’ve been arrested for writing low quality verses.Is it a crime now?
Sorry we are off to the pub to get arrested for drunk driving so we can spend the Hew Year in jail…. it saves money for us but not the taxpayer
Please stop phoning;my head is ringing…… how do I take the call?
Sorry I am out right now as I’d love to clear your voice again.Please growl back later.
Fancy you ringing,I love your rude message and return it redoubled in strength.
Yes,you did love her but it was a wrong time ago and besides she is a dead ringer for the Queen
This is a telephone answering service.If you are human try meeting face to face.
Honesty can get very wounding so please take care about leaving a message after the tone
Silence and telephones are incompatible.So take your kick and konk off.
Why are you phoning.I saw you today.Please do not leave a message as I am feeling moody and mean like a film star on a horse’s back
He said he was going out for a bark.Can I fake a message?
He said he was ill but not that he was dead.Men!
He said he’s had enough but I am still alive
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Please wear a cat when out of doors.
P
Please wear a frown in bed,especially when harried for more than ten years.
Please keep your head bevelled..
Please keep your stare on all night and every right.
Please have clean sex everyday, especially on Sundays.
Please change your underwear gaily.
Please wash your aunts every night especially in summer time.
Please feed the sprat on schedule.
Please take your anti-riot pills handy and do finish the coarse and smooth out the mirrors
Please keep your cuneiform safe and bound.
Please wear a cat when out of doors.After all Jesus liked a miaow
Please take your hand out of my biscuit box.
Please carry your loves in winter.
Please take your trews off before entering.
Please be a delight at all times.
Please play chess alone as you are too clever for birds
Please do not let your no’s glow.
Please remember you are not abreast.
Please nip envy in the blood.
Please use your body as I would.
Please do not get into a double bind unless over the age of consent.
Ferried couples can have twin leads
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We’re just a pair of porcupines
We’re just a pair of porcupines who want to get more close
But when we do we get a wound made up of tiny nicks
You caught your spikey walking boots on my new blue hose
I kissed you on your bristly beard and got ten thousand pricks.
We separated and returned because our love is fine
We slept apart,we shared a bed ,we hoped to share our hearts
We ate our breakfast separately but combined when we dined
I longed to give my heart to you,but you would soon depart
You like to have your sacred space inviolate and calm
I like my own space as well, for I feel like you feel
We might have found a proper home where we could settle down
But then you said you hated me for you felt quite unreal
You went up to the arctic to find a better zone
Then emailed me and asked me up ; admired me with wild zeal
I couldn’t afford the airline price so you came rushing home
For you said a porcupine’s more loving than a seal
Some days you found me beautiful,some days you found me wise
I backed off with an over-whelm,for you could tantalise.
I ran away to Italy and found a Latin man
Maybe you can do the same ; catch me if you can!
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BT email
I have been having problems with BT Yahoo Mail.Like I can change my password which I did,but cannot read the mail.I also had to install a new printer.It even has an email address.I printed a photo of some trees in black and white which came out superbly.But all these things take up a great deal of the day and my mind is not into writing poetry then.But I posted two poems I like from the website Writer’s Cafe
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Keeping a diary is good for you
https://www.theguardian.com/science/2009/feb/15/psychology-usa
“Those who wrote about an emotional experience showed more activity in part of the brain called the right ventrolateral prefrontal cortex, which in turn dampened down neural activity linked to strong emotional feelings.
Men seemed to benefit from writing about their feelings more than women, and writing by hand had a bigger effect than typing, Dr Lieberman said.
“Men tend to show greater benefits and that is a bit counterintuitive. But the reason might be that women more freely put their feelings into words, so this is less of a novel experience for them. For men it’s more of a novelty,” Lieberman said.
The study showed that writing about emotions in an abstract sense was more calming than describing them in vivid language, which could make people feel more upset by reactivating their original feelings.”
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“Too Much Yappin'” A Poem by barleygirl
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Used to be a young whippersnapper
rarely inclined to zip my yapper. With millions competing to be heard That’s why I’m livin’ way off the grid Always ready to deal with dangers |
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Genuine Solitude by Ted Kniffen
Genuine SolitudeA Poem by Ted Kniffen
http://www.writerscafe.org/Tedk1946
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The last rose of summer
Trees with pale trunks
A chair of driftwood
Late flowers in sun
Smiling sister
Coffee
Roses
A hum of traffic
Narrow country lanes edged close by sspread out roots of large trees
Rabbits playing
Getting lost in a garden
How nice to give up control.
Sunshine and talk
Hugs meant. not just a formality
Sister driving me home
Took my old printer
Goodbye for now
Autumn equinox
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Piscis saltantem
Piscis saltantem cum dilucidis frills.
Flandered ego solus ut nix blose
Quod sleats in excelsis per inaccessos, et biles,
Vidi in omnibus Seance cuculla
In Spiritu Sancto, et hilden waffotills;
Detide in blke, Coneath pulices,
Et murmur pluttering in zophorum
Conpenfed septati, ad plana sextarium
Et in swondleon mockiray,
Et nunquam aciem lapidem in briched
Per gargins texebant quasi radius:
Maxilla mihi mille decem et ruo,
Wessing eorum in shads Golightly spance.
Daves planced inuicem in eis; sed Loy
Et dixit: parkling in aequore Schlee
A paite non glay TURBAMENTUM
In juce a fecunda timpanee:
Glaced- glaced- et ego modicum ploat
Migale quod placitum clight nealthy crabrones:
Poft enim, cum ego in meo Louch Wight
In racant extensivo vel in aqua,
Et fulgura super drat innard plie
Efflantes in Blass de molotude;
Et tunc accincti quietem branchiis,
Piscis saltantem cum daffofrills
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To torment butter with sharp knives was fine
So you have phoned who once designed my glove
For that opera conjured and refined
For in your glee you wrote a song of love
To torment butter with sharp knives was fine
Amused by friendship with your friendly crooks
For that opera conjured and refined
For in your glee you wrote a song of love
To torment butter with sharp knives was fine
Amused by friendship with your friendly crooks
You did not understand that skin couls feel
Yet imitation grew the more you looked
You threw Arabian raisins at bike wheels.
With me, your love, then you began to mate
If not ideal , then tolerable, I agree.
And then you liked a nymph to mediate
Our child was born by whim of God’s mercy.
So fine, mature ,yet born indecently.
Thank God, Augustine Hippo could not see.
Yet imitation grew the more you looked
You threw Arabian raisins at bike wheels.
With me, your love, then you began to mate
If not ideal , then tolerable, I agree.
And then you liked a nymph to mediate
Our child was born by whim of God’s mercy.
So fine, mature ,yet born indecently.
Thank God, Augustine Hippo could not see.
St Augustine thought original sin occurred because a baby touched that evil place, the vagina,during birth and was contaminated.Feminism,where art thou?
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Different points of view
The old red wall is dressed in stems of wood
In wintertime, we see the ancient bricks.
But in the springtime come the flower buds.
We see no more of frost and slippery tricks.
Which vision is the true one,we may ask
Just as with the faces we each show.
But is there any virtue in that task
For reality is impossible to know.
Each perspective gives a vision new.
The more we see ,the more we realise.
Other cultures have a different view.
Argument is futile and unwise.
As when and where we stand gives us our view.
I shall perceive differently from you
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Creative… don’t ruminate!
Mary hears a strange noise
Western fashion
Mary heard a very strange sound as she came delicately down the newly polished carpeted stairs of her bijou detached home with its soft blue cosy furniture and deep navy blue thick pile wool carpets.It was a loud two-part shriek, that was intermittent and so more irritating to a lady’s delicate ear
I wonder if that’s the new answ ering machine, she thought to herself as she went to put the kettle on to make a few more pints of tea.She heard it again,but it was not continuous.
Well, it’s not the carbon monoxide detector either,she told Emile who was eating a sardine.Then she remembered hearing it before.
It’s the old phone handset with a flat battery,she murmured as she suddenly began to wash her hair in the kitchen sink with some Persil Silk and Wool detergent.
Annie came to the side door
What’s that strangely disturbing beep ?she cried.And why are you washing your hair here,not in the bathroom?
See if you can spot the phone.I can’t find it,Mary told her.I wash my hair sometimes just to clear my brain besides my hair is so limp it needs it especially when we get a truly hot summer
Well,why not keep some real shampoo here or that new wash and condition in one bottle as you really need it; Oh,gosh,I have found the phone.It was in the waste paper basket!But you can’t put it in the ordinary rubbish bin,can you?
Well ,I could but it’s illegal.I will have to pay £20 for a cab to the recycling centre,Mary said philosophically.
I’d better not leave it “by accident” on a bench in the Mall given the current climate of fear and Brexit hatred
Well if we remove the batteries it won’t shriek anymore,Annie told her kindly.
How is the new phone doing ?Is it good? she rambled on guilelessly like an old lady with a lonely life
OK.It has a special button on the front so you can block someone after you have picked it up.There is some much fear now about WITHELD NUMBERS.At one time we only knew after we picked it up.If I use my phablet my sister hates it.Mary disclosed.She refused to have more than 2 numbers for me so it comes up as UNKNOWN
What is a phablet? Annie enquired sardonically,her little soft eyes crinkling with laughter which showed off her turquoise and orange eye shadow made from pastel sticks from her art box!
It’s just a small tablet but you can make phone calls with it.Andi f it gets lost you can phone it!!
I didn’t know you had one of those!
Neither did Stan,Mary said with a touch of sadness.I only wish we could phone heaven from earth.
Wow,said Annie.Maybe it would spoil heaven for them
How true, her friend responded thoughtfully
.Let’s hope they have some attitude that makes them have a different point of view from us. Now,I’ll dry my hair and you can tell me why you came.
Oh,dear,said Annie.Let me drink some tea.I can’t remember except that your wisteria has climbed up my rowan tree.
Was it shopping? Was it Dave?Let’s ring 999 and see what he has to say.
We’re all gray here,no fuss
We’ll all go play with puss,Emile,Emile
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I ache to know what special meal she loved
Pray, please, for me, you who my cooker broke
With faked food, hot frying in my chamber.
I have seen them griddle, flame, and leak
That now are cold and do a lamb dismember
Sometime they broiled their food inside my Aga
Sometime they broiled their food inside my Aga
And flake bread on my hand; where now they graze;
Busily baking buns with their new range
Blanked by government fools so very wise
Twenty more times cooked on ribboned lace
On these thin oven trays we twinkled spies.
When her apron from her neck did fall,
She caught a fish for me in her arms thrall;
Therewithall while sweetly we drank Kirsch
She softly asked, “How do you like your fish?”
She softly asked, “How do you like your fish?”
It was no dream: my bread was duly baking.
But all is bleak now ,as I ‘m cookerless
Entering strange new future of non- creating
Yet I have this sweet yeast to raise and bless
And she promises to use fat cookery books much less
And she promises to use fat cookery books much less
But since that I so kindly am now served
I ache to know what special meals she loved
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Fish dancing with their lucid frills.
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 flat 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 shads 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 fezund timpanee:
I glazed- and jazed- but little ploat
What gealthy wasps shrew thlee had cloght:
For poft, when on my louch I suy
In racane or in rensive slood,
They flush upon that innard plie
Rich is the blass of molotude;
And then my gwart with leisured gills:
Fish dancing with the daffofrills.
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A first attempt at nonsense
It was porrey to philow in the phlark
Meotonic bears flancing young starks
Net the grambles and critches
Met cyre’s in the flitches
Who thries when they wiven the pharks
The lidle was not in the hace
The ovington bired the ild flice
Bat wren it was fyte
To lardin in lyte
We doddled the ciryient mace
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Easy ways to write a sonnet
http://classroom.synonym.com/easy-short-steps-write-sonnet-poem-1660.html
Extract
Shakespearean Sonnet
The Shakespearean sonnet is the easiest sonnet to write. It consists of three quatrains and a couplet. The first stanza has the rhyme scheme of “a-b-a-b,” while the rhyme scheme for second stanza is “c-d-c-d.” The third stanza’s rhyme scheme is “e-f-e-f,” and for the couplet, it is “g-g.”
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How to write a jabberwocky style poem
http://classroom.synonym.com/write-jabberwockystyle-poem-3395.html
In addition to being an author, Charles Dodgson was a talented logician and mathematician.
“Jabberwocky” is a poem written by Lewis Carroll, also known by his birth name, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson. It was first published in the pages of “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There,” Carroll’s 1872 sequel to his 1865 bestseller “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” In the novel, Alice, likely dreaming, happens upon a book that can be read only when held to the surface of a mirror. Within is “Jabberwocky,” one of the most famous examples of nonsense verse ever written.
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The Crocodile – Poem by Lewis Carroll
Lewis Carroll (27 January 1832 – 14 January 1898 / Cheshire)How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!
How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!
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So you are gone
So you are gone who once declared your love
For that phantasm conjured in your mind
For onto me you brought down from above
A torment bitter and sharp words unkind
.Used to friendship from within your books
For that phantasm conjured in your mind
For onto me you brought down from above
A torment bitter and sharp words unkind
.Used to friendship from within your books
You did not understand that I was real
Irritation grew the more you looked
You threw your poisoned arrows at my heel.
What once you loved then you began to hate
If not ideal ,intolerable I must be
And then you cursed me with this sorry fate
Our child was born and him you’ll never see.
Premature and born in desert grey.
I carried him alone from death’s dark way.
Irritation grew the more you looked
You threw your poisoned arrows at my heel.
What once you loved then you began to hate
If not ideal ,intolerable I must be
And then you cursed me with this sorry fate
Our child was born and him you’ll never see.
Premature and born in desert grey.
I carried him alone from death’s dark way.
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The Fall spread across the world
When you struck me,I vibrated like a kettle drum
then as smaller percussions and repercussions
echoing from all the glassy surfaces
creating a balletic geometry of sound tracks
in space and time.
When you knocked me down,
I fell against her and her and her;
we were like a row of skittles
and we all went down with the lifeboat;
the infinite chain of being is.
When you hit me,the Fall spread across the world
Now there is no Vertical
All is undivine and graceless.
By the Rod it’s ruled
When you left me,I left myself,the world,the rocks,dry land
I weighed down sank to the ocean bed
with coral eyes
gazing.
When you struck my mind
I became an instrument of a foreign power
Singing a song I didn’t kmow.
When the glass was smashed
the splinters flew into all our hearts.
You didn’t know what we couldn’t see.
I lay on barren ground and gave birth
To my own Creator in the desert.
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Focus is sharp when we hunt.
When a child’s born ,she usually cries
As the stimulation of birth has its price.
Yet we must leave mother’s womb
Then create a cocoon
Where our psyche a world may devize.
Metaphors spring up like spring flowers.
Similes enchant by the hour.
How rich our own minds may be
When we perceive all we see.
For relaxed eyes don’t enjoy being narrowed.
Focus is sharp when we hunt.
Yet maintained it can too often stunt.
We need a broad view,
As the owls always knew.
If only we saw back and front!
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Use politeness instead of fear.
This is based partly on something I read years ago and partly on my own experience
Relate to a painful emotion with curiosity,interest,acceptance or politeness instead of fear.
And do the same with people….
Because fear tightens us up and lessens our ability to perceive.And perception is crucial in decision and judgment.Change your perceptions and you change yourself without force.Will power is force which often cannot achieve our longed for wishes and hopes.Snow will melt and fires will go out.But Wisdom is always here for those who can see
.
Related articles
- How to change a bad perception (chrisjacksononline.net)
- Let time flow at a slower speed under your control(indiexistence.wordpress.com)
- Fears (thecollectivetruthcompany.wordpress.com)
- How Do You Perceive Me? (ktpopcheff.wordpress.com)
- #AskJack: How Can I Find Peace? (jacksaunsea.wordpress.com)
- You Can Do Anything You Decide To Do(paradisefoundretreats.wordpress.com)
- On Things of which I am Afraid of (msshakeyla.wordpress.com)
- Are You Afraid? (brittlauren.wordpress.com)
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Can you say “I was wrong”?
Sydney Harris often used aphorisms in his writings, such as this excerpt from Pieces of Eight (1982):
“Superior people are only those who let it be discovered by others; the need to make it evident forfeits the very virtue they aspire to
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The owl can see with wide and narrow view
The owl can see with wide and narrow view Focuses that poets and artists The broad sweep on the canvas makes a Where details and designs can have their space.
What God endowed the owl with such excess;
And all her progeny to enjoy bliss?
Is evolution but a narrow miss?
What exquisite accident made this?
Eagles,hawks and owls must kill to eat.
No blandishments nor kindness make them sweet.
What God could make an Eden this deceit;
Where lambs are snatched up while their mothers bleat
So God himself destroys to fill his leisure;
Such fearsome revelations show his measure.
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SPINSTER by Sylvia Plath
Now this particular girl
During a ceremonious April walk
With her latest suitor
Found herself, of a sudden, intolerably struck
By the birds irregular babel
And the leaves’ litter.
By this tumult afflicted, she
Observed her lover’s gestures unbalance the air,
Her gait stray uneven
Through a rank wilderness of fern and flower.
She judged petals in disarray,
The whole season, sloven.
How she longed for winter then! —
Scrupulously austere in its order
Of white and black
Ice and rock, each sentiment in border,
And heart’s frosty discipline
Exact as a snowflake.
But here — a burgeoning
Unruly enough to pitch her five queenly wits
Into vulgar motley —
A treason not to be borne. Let idiots
Reel giddy in bedlam spring:
She withdrew neatly.
And round her house she set
Such a barricade of barb and check
Against mutinous weather
As no mere insurgent man could hope to break
With curse, fist, threat
Or love, eithe
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A wonderful letter from Ted Hughes
Heart or mind?
Butterflies can light upon a rose
Butterflies can light upon a rose
And sparrows miss the prickly holly leaf
So thorns deter most larger, useless foes
Bring safety to small birds instead of grief
The butterfly is symbol of the power
That weakness has in entering Sacred ground.
A butterfly can fly through hail stormed bowers
Their wings send waves across the world by sound.
A cat too has its claws as well as fur
Yet cats do have a a modicum of choice.
For those of us for whom they have a care
Claws are held ; miaows or purrs are voiced.
Am I a holly tree or fragrant rose?
Am I the cat who may unsheath her claws?
