https://bellatory.com/clothing/How-to-Become-Invisible-Hiding-in-Plain-Sight

https://www.cmd-ltd.com/advice-centre/ergonomics/maintaining-the-correct-monitor-height/

https://www.theguardian.com/money/2023/jun/14/10-ways-more-confident-work-colleagues-positive?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

Posted
As I’m wrung, by semiotics drained
I wonder if I’m wrong to write, explain
The rose unread, the apple not yet born
A poet reveals her mind, which draws down storms

Better be a scientist than a poet
Negative, uncertain, when she wrote
A lab with nuclei all dead and still
The world has ended, death by overkill

Not I, but someone in me, seems to choose
What I write of, what I might well leave
Else obsessional I’d be found here still
Having lost the power of choice and will.

Can we trust the silence and the voice?
Humbly, we must kneel before we choose.

L

God
Jesus
Einstein
Mendelsohn
Mahler
Bob Dylan
The Rothschilds
Saatchis
St Paul
The disciples
L.Cohen
Maimonides
St Peter
St Teresa of Avila
St John of the Cross
Moses
Abraham
Mary mother of Jesus
Jeremiah
Emmanuel Levinas
Yehudi Menuhin
Yehuda Amichai
Abraham
Isaac
Jeremiah
King David
Ruth
Adam and Eve….. all of us

“5 per cent of the people in the study died or were treated for suicide.”

How? Resurrected?

Independent Newspaper 15 June 2019

https://www.irishtimes.com/opinion/legacy-of-sex-abuse-denial-can-be-traced-back-to-freud-1.360285

https://www.itv.com/news/central/2016-02-15/exclusive-woman-speaks-of-cruel-and-sadistic-abuse-at-care-home

Underneath the shallow pools lies sand
Where shells are fractured by the ocean’s blows
We will learn what being alive demands

To bare feet the sunny days beckoned
The warm sand trickles in between the toes
Underneath the shallow pools lies sand

In whose sums is our living reckoned?
Calculation, not so bleak it shows
We learn by pain, true living makes demands

God allows the abacus unchained
To sum us up as if we are unknown
Underneath the pools, are these his hands?

Who will be allowed and who detained?
Like refugees, we come to love alone
We try to be alive, despite the pain

Our hearts are fragile shells, not heavy stones
We, soft flesh enraptured by framed bones.
Darkly on the beach we humans stand
The fretting waves cry out with love’s demands

I’m so lonely I just bought a talking watch.

Sometimes when the radio keeps on talking hour after hour I feel like getting a hammer and hitting it. I didn’t realise you could turn them off. What arl pity we can’t turn people off without killing them

In my last year at school I never spoke a single word. And no one said anything. Invisible moi?

When you think about it God doesn’t have a body so he has no voice box. So in what way does God “talk” to us? Does he drop hints?

I have known some very nice people who rarely speak. I wish Boris Johnson was one of them.

Do you think that God wanted Boris and Carrie to get married in a Catholic church? I don’t believe God is cruel in that sort of way.

He is cruel like a gale is. Like the ocean is. Like your mother was when you were baby.

After the age of 1 nobody is omnipotent

As my watch just reminded me.

We are all in this together. Except for Boris Johnson

Israeli air and ground forces hit targets in Gaza Strip as death toll climbs

Don’t you think this is a strange sentence?To me it reads as “because the death toll is rising more Israeli Israeli forces are hittihg their targets”

Should it not read

My version

Death toll in Gaza strip rises because more Israeli forces hit their targets

If they knew there were so many hidden tunnels into Israel, why have they left them alone till now?
Ditto with important people
Can this tragedy for all people in Israel/Palestine ever end ?

T

My face is pale,my hair is white as snow
In my eyes is an unearthly glow

I ate some salt beef and some bread today
I tried to write a poem very gay

The Government attracted scorn and blows
The wind is in the willows with Jon Snow

Israel is getting on my mind
The deaf can’t see and all rest are blind

Come to Gaza, on the beach we play
Some children just got shot, ought we to pray?

On mountains where the prophets heard the Lord
The vultures now await the battle scarred.

The United Nations cannot speak the Word
Apartheid makes me wonder who is scared.

Jesus was a man so we are told
God sent him here, we killed him feeling bold

Would you like Guernica again?
Say the word, we’ll kill for pay.Amen

In the deserts of the human heart
Are there wells where water can be bought?

From whom come our so called Human Rights?
And by the way, what of the children’s plight?

Would you take a break on the West Bank?
We have some Bedouin Tents,and many tanks

Jerusalem is holy, what a shock!
You can eat ice cream right on the Rock

Women cannot wail on that great Wall
They have no height, they need to grow more tall

Golden is the dome and bright the sun
Catch an “Arab” out and have some fun

If we did not believe there was a God
He’d go away and leave us just his rod

I hate her wooden coat hangers all cracked
Give me wire and let me be abstract

I found some shoes but they have dropped apart
Think of how that hurt my Bakewell tarts

The Sacred Whore, the Holy Demon’s plight
The Holy Ghost is not inclined to fight

I have a table here on which I paint
I look so pale, will I be forced to faint?

In the bitter depths of winter night
Boil the kettle, lose your human rights

If you feel depressed then eat our bread
It will remove the skull from off your head

Are you feeling lonesome in the crowd?
Buy our lipstick then men will be cowed

Did you think ceramic hobs were best?
Come to us and have your IQ blessed

I want a pan for halogen hot plates
I’d ask the cat but it’s out on a date

Does Confession really help the damned?
God have mercy as the Devil can’

Trying lines

My face is pale,my hair is white as snow
In my eyes is an unearthly glow

I ate some salt beef and some bread today
I tried to write a poem very gay

The Government attracted scorn and blows
The wind is in the willows with Jon Snow

Israel is getting on my mind
The deaf can’t see and all rest are blind

Come to Gaza, on the beach we play
Some children just got shot, ought we to pray?

On mountains where the prophets heard the Lord
The vultures now await the battle scarred.

The United Nations cannot speak the Word
Apartheid makes me wonder who is scared.

Jesus was a man so we are told
God sent him here, we killed him feeling bold

Would you like Guernica again?
Say the word, we’ll kill for pay.Amen

In the deserts of the human heart
Are there wells where water can be bought?

From whom come our so called Human Rights?
And by the way, what of the children’s plight?

Would you take a break on the West Bank?
We have some Bedouin Tents,and many tanks

Jerusalem is holy, what a shock!
You can eat ice cream right on the Rock

Women cannot wail on that great Wall
They have no height, they need to grow more tall

Golden is the dome and bright the sun
Catch an “Arab” out and have some fun

If we did not believe there was a God
He’d go away and leave us just his rod

I hate her wooden coat hangers all cracked
Give me wire and let me be abstract

I found some shoes but they have dropped apart
Think of how that hurt my Bakewell tarts

The Sacred Whore, the Holy Demon’s plight
The Holy Ghost is not inclined to fight

I have a table here on which I paint
I look so pale, will I be forced to faint?

In the bitter depths of winter night
Boil the kettle, lose your human rights

If you feel depressed then eat our bread
It will remove the skull from off your head

Are you feeling lonesome in the crowd?
Buy our lipstick then men will be cowed

Did you think ceramic hobs were best?
Come to us and have your IQ blessed

I want a pan for halogen hot plates
I’d ask the cat but it’s out on a date

Does Confession really help the damned?
God have mercy as the Devil can’

I had a doctor from the Gaza strip

The constant warfare made this doctor quit

But when he came to the UK

They said Oh refugees can’t play

So then he told them they should watch their lip.

But is he still a refugee

Surfing words where ere they be ?

He could pay his way if he could work

Eating shingle from the sea

The dying fish make one last plea.

To Westminster they’re going in a ship

https://dialecticalbehaviortherapy.com/distress-tolerance/willingness-vs-willfulness/

The weather in Knittingham was rather hot.Mary was away giving a lecture on Dirac’s hat in Wexford and Stan felt lonely.He rang Annie but she was out.
So he said to Emile
I am going to bed early.Have you had enough to eat?
Definitely,cried Emile,who had just licked all the cream off two meringues in the larder.So Stan went upstairs.He took off all his clothes and admired his thin body in the mirror.
Not bad for 97,he muttered.
Now what shall I put on? He found his pyjamas too hot so on an impulse he opened Mary’s wardrobe and found a cotton nightdress.It was a bit big for him but definitely cooler than his pyjamas.He cleaned his teeth and washed himself before falling into bed with,The Other Ariel a book about Sylvia Plath’s poetry and how Ted Hughes had altered the order of her poems and even removed some from the book .Ariel,which made her name.
The doorbell rang.Each time it played a different tune out of the 90 in its repertoire.
He ran downstairs and opened the door.There stood two big policemen.
They stared a the handsome old man with elegant hands
Hello.Sir.I hope we have not interrupted you?
No,I am just reading in bed on my own
Do you always wear a nightgown?
This is the first time,he told them humorously.I felt very hot so I decided to wear my wife’s gown.
And just where is your wife?
What’s it got to do with you,he enquired unceremoniously.
Just tell us,the older policeman said brusquely
She’s at a conference in Wexford giving a talk.About Dirac or Riemann or another nitwit.
Can we come in? the policeman said.
May we come in,Stan corrected him,not a good idea on the whole,especially in the USA where the police have guns.Luckily all our police have here are rubber gloves in case people ask them to wash up after having a cup of tea.
What’s wrong? said Stan.
We have found a naked woman walking in the High Street.She says a man stole her clothes.For various reasons we think it might be you.
But if she was in the High Street she’d be in proper clothes not a nightdress,surely ,Stan murmured.
But you like women’s clothes….. we can see.
No,I don’t, the old man shouted.I told you I was too hot.And in my own home I can wear anything I like.Sometimes I wear a prayer shawl
Are you Jewish? they asked.
Only a little, but I inherited it from a great grandfather who married out.
Out of what? the police asked
He married out of his faith.He was longing for a bacon sandwich.
Surely marrying just to eat a bacon sandwich is a bit over the top.
Well,that was his story.Maybe he was tired of obeying the Ten Commandments so he broke most of them.
Which ones?
He committed adultery once when his wife had a nervous breakdown ; he lost his head and went to bed with his neighbour’s wife.
And where was his neighbour?
At the psychiatric unit visiting my great grandmother.Stan admitted uneasily.
Well,at such times we all do odd things,the older policeman advised him.
Thank you for your frankness,Sir.I can see you are not a criminal.
Thank the Lord,said Stan as he went into the kitchen and put the kettle on to make a cup of tea to save ringing 999
I am lucky not to be in a cell and Mary would have had to come home.She would have been cross, he told Emile.Anyway monks wear habits.
But who had stolen the clothes off the woman in town? A mystery to be studied with Annie when she got home.
At last Stan relaxed and went back to bed with his books
This is the last time I ever wear a nightdress he whispered to Emile who was by his side.
And so hope all of us.

I found it very interesting recently when I told a few people I was trying to buy a new bed.

Given my age and I was married 45 years I have some experience of beds mattresses , duvets etc

One of my relatives suggested that I should get a single bed because it will be cheaper. What a surprise.

I wrote back and said

I have not given up yet but everybody knows there’s a single bed is cheaper than a double bed.

Someone else tell me a large number of places where you have beds made to a specifications of those of your partner. I would be as likely to sleep on an anthillm

Further hints… Is the mattress is very deep then you will need to get sheets made for deep mattresses

Anyone would  I was just about to go to university and I  henever made a bed in my life.. but he can’t read that difficult if you’ve got some wood nails and a hammer.

hammer

The humid heat has push me to the ground

The buzzing of the bee the only sounds

The Cleveland hills are covered in wildflowers

Where we used to lie for many hours

Now I’m in the south but I recall

How the world was made before the Fall

The conscious mind’s a cancer in its way

Serviced by the will, it cannot plays

God is not a power he is alive

Children on the seashore never strive

Mary stood at the bus stop in her chocolate wool winter coat which Stan had always loved very much.
It hangs so well, he had told her.
The optional imitation fur collar had been removed as she preferred natural garments made from wool with no ostentation.As a matter of fact, she has one of Stan’s woollen vests on under her gold silk top.Her hair fell in light blonde curls around her pensive face and her eyes looked as if she were seeing a mysterious vision of the Matterhorn in midwinter while on heroin.
Suddenly she realised the bus was there and she put her card up to the machine before looking for a seat.The bus was rather full so she sat down next to a youth with an i phone hanging from his hand.Suddenly it rang.His chosen theme was,
Please release me, sung by Tom Jones.
Mary smiled as, if she were near Tom Jones she would need no invitation to free him.The youth began to speak rather louder than normal.
Mary tried not listen but it was impossible.She was too hot as well.Wearing Stan’s vest was a mistake as the bus was overheated.She turned pink like a sunrise over ICI in Billingham for, perceive it or not, the pollution had a beautifying effect.
I’m sorry I wore your vest, she told Stan.
I should have given them away but I was trying to save money on heating.Still, I will be home soon.Oh,for some fresh tea.
Where’s your microphone, the youth demanded in a light voice?It must be one of those new tiny ones, I guess
A microphone? Mary said curiously.
Yeah, he cried.I assume your phone is in your pocket.
Actually, it’s in a pocket in my knickers, she informed him in a manner resembling that of a mildly dotty scientist.We used to wear these knickers in the gym at school.
Did you not wear a top? he enquired, his eyes running over her hourglass figure like pure rainwater water falling off High Force in Teesdale. in a summer storm.
Well.I didn’t have a bra until I got my grant to attend university,she told him sensitively.
Well, that’s news to me,he said.
So you had to wear a bra at University? That was before feminism,of course.Did you burn it later?
Certainly not, said Mary.I’d been longing for one but my mother didn’t seem to notice my development which was her way of coping with adolescent girls.Of course others may have noticed but they were too nervous to tell Mother I needed any support.We were all so shy and afraid.Anyway be quiet now, I want to speak to my husband.
Have you had your phone on all this time? he asked anxiously, worried about her bill.
No, I don’t need it to talk to him, she responded.
Why, where is he? the youth enquired sardonically.
He’s on my knee, Mary informed him.In this bag.She pointed to her hessian shopping bag.
I have just been to the Coop for him.I ought to have got a cab as he is quite heavy.
Jesus Christ, cried the youth, hastily pressing the bell before leaping off the bus into a small pond that had been created b Hurricane Desmond.He swam away into the cold night.
Well. that shut him up, Mary said to Stan.
Mary, don’t become less gentle and kind, Stan said in her ear.
I can’t be gentle now, she said.It’s a nasty tough world without you to help me and tell me what you think of Jeremy Corbyn.And do I need to have a roast dinner at Xmas or just some toad in the hole?
I am sorry, sweetheart he murmured.Maybe you need assertiveness training.
I’ll just get more aggressive, she replied.Micro-aggressive perhaps.
You’ll need more than micro in this era, he continued.Mary forgot to get off the bus and found herself in the Leisure Centre by the River Tranter
What about the river, Stan, she asked.
Would you like me to throw you in
.A policeman standing nearby ran over.
Madam is it suicide or murder, he asked her awkwardly.
No, it’s a life sentence, she said humorously as she put her hand up her skirt to get her phone.
That’s a silly place to keep your phone he said.
Anyway don’t call a cab, I can run you home in my car.Have you got any China tea?
I could kill for a hot drink.
I have some lapsang souchong, she told him.Do you fancy that?
I do ,called Stan from the bag.The policeman passed out.
I told you not to get a boyfriend yet, Stan continued to Mary.
I’ll do whatever I feel like, she said rudely.I could use a comforting arm around me.
Stan sobbed as only a holy soul can.
She said, quickly
Don’t worry.I’ll get Emile to sit on my knee.Goodbye, for now, darling.
Goodbye whispered Stan faintly.
Good bye…. goodbye….good bye…….

The little leaves  are red brown in the sun
The branches  out- turned shapes  are   full of joy
Little glitters play on leaves for fun

Eden was not totally destroyed
We return there in these glances rare
As nature and our friendships we enjoy

Living life, we never should defer
The sights, the dreams  we harbour  every day
The future is still fiction, if it’s there.

The  maple does not ask  the question, why?
Seek meaning for its life and its affairs
Like it ,we must now live before we die

June 12, 2017

Mary was sitting at her desk trying to decide whether to throw out a book called Schrodinger ‘s equation for idiots.The title had more than one meaning, she thought to herself.
I think that is for the recycling bin, she told her cat, Emile.What a pity you can’t read.You could have read it.
I don’t want to read stuff like that.I only like Dad’s cartoon books.
Where are they, Mary asked him, her eyes shining like melting Danish butter on a hot croissant?
They are in that plastic box in the kitchen, Emile told her.I read them at night.
How can you read if there is no light?Please don’t start sinning as I don’t want you to have to become a Catholic.
I can’t become a Catholic, said Emile.I am Jewish.
Well, St Paul was Jewish, Mary told him.Until he had an epileptic fit .
So having a fit can make you a Christian.That is very strange, the black cat told her with a twinkle in his eyes
Well, it’s not automatic, Mary replied.You have to pay.
What, pay to become a Christian, I don’t believe Jesus would like that.
Well , he may be quite indulgent, sometimes Mary giggled.However, the Vatican and its wealth might not be quite what he was thinking of when he gave the Sermon on the Mount.
What sort of mount was it , Emile enquired.Was it a horse?
No, it was more likely to have been a donkey as he was poor, you know
But he had things money can’t buy, the cat said philosophically.Like women who poured oil over his feet.What sort was it,?Was it like that stuff Stan put in the car engine sometimes?
Don’t be so ridiculous.It was olive oil, Mary told him
Can we prove that, Emile murmured? His feet were no salad
No, I am using inductive reasoningMary stated logically.Olive trees are grown in that part of the world even now.
What is inductive reasoning, Emile mewed
Why it’s the opposite of deductive reasoning, of course, Mary stated flatly
I am glad I can’t read, Emile said.It’s bad for you to have to learn all of that.It was ok for the ancient Greeks.They had no televisions.I’d rather watch Andrea Bocelli and Hayley Westenra singing Vivo per lei.Whatever that means.She is from New Zealand by the way.
What difference does that make Mary teased him?
No need to be rude, Emile cried.I was only passing a remark
That was what Stan’s mother used to say when he told her off for saying my maple mousse was like something out of a tin.
Where was it from?
The Joy of Cookery. a big American cook book or maybe Jewish Cookery by Florence Greenberg or Marks and Spencers
Did you get that book because I am Jewish, Emile purred?
No, I didn’t even know you were.How did it happen?
My mother was living with a Rabbi in Liverpool and he told her she could not miaow on the Sabbath so she kind of assumed she was Jewish.As for my father.. nobody knows.
Emile, don’t start saying you are the Messiah.I have enough trouble already.I don’t want you to be walking on water and helping women taken in adultery
I was not me who took them, said Emile.I don’t even know where Adultery is.
I think I’ll ring 999.We need help before we go mad.
Sometimes going mad seems the better option, Mary said sadly.A few voices telling me what to do might be helpful
As long as they are not Michael Grove and Horace Watson, Emile replied. As for Freezer May……
And so say all of us

Mary stood in her kitchen admiring the white flowers on her huge mock orange bush,She looked down at the floor where some coffee she had spilled had become a large black mark.She tried mopping it with her squeegee mop after pouring some floor cleaner onto the mark.Alas, this did not work
Mary was lost in wonder at the chemicals in coffee which make it more intractable to remove.
The back door opened and in dashed Annie her neighbout.Dressed today in purple and mauve she was the picture of ripe female seductiveness achieved by artifice and art.Her mauvey grey eye shadow was bought on line from “Images of Wigan and West Mersea” a well known sourceof startling new colours for women’s faces.Her smokey pink lipstick was glued to her lips by a special formula known only in the Wigan factory.Even nail varnish remover did not get it off so Annie made sure it was what she needed…. along with her 48 hour antiperspirant from Boots and her Channel 9 perfume which came with her new television set.

In fact that was why she had bought the television.She already had 5 of them in her home so she was never without the chance to watch some Palestinians enjoying themselves on a saandy beach by the lovely wire Fence which divided them from their former homes in Israel and they didn’t have to pay any cash for this well designed barrier
Now and then one might see an ambulance.Possibly, like my mother did in New Brighton in 1948 ,someone had stepped on a piece of broken glass and the paramedics always enjoyed a trip to the sandy picnic spot.It was too far for Dave to go from Knittingham.
A Palestinian nurse/paramedic was always there ecquipped with her sewing box to stitch people up right where they were enjoying their day out.Now and then one was targeted by some loon nearby who had somehow got hold of a gun and some wonderful butterfly bullets.Well life is a gamble/
Still, we all need some risk Otherwise we would get terribly bored or if Spanish, gored.

Even in the USA there are often accidents like this.It is a real part of their culture unlike Britain, the calmest country in the West apart from a few teenage boys stabbing each other and a few more committing suicide for no valid reason.And the odd wife being murdered by her dear husband.

Mary got out a brillo pad and tried to scrape the marks off the kitchen floor.Annie found a wire wool scourer and they bent over scrubbing away as women always have loved to do after breast feeding their husbands and smacking the baby.Or is that the other way round?
Now it’s time for tea.Let’s ring 999 and ask for Dave to help out.Emile will do it with his paw if he is not asleep in a pan on a low heat

https://www.multco.us/ads/what-difference-between%C2%A0clutter-collecting-and-hoarding

I think I have just failed my IQ test
The apple cart has landed on my chest
I didn’t mean to cause such selfish pain
Writing you a letter once again

I never knew that numbers carried on
To fall in love and marry they’ve’ begun
Their children are irrational not whole
Some are transcendental ,I’m enthralled

The IQ test was far too hard for me
I cannot even read it,don’t you see?
I think they are immoral and in vain
I’ve written to the Queen,I have complained

The apple cart is emptier today
I ate them all and now I feel quite gay

https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2023/jun/11/data-undermines-robert-jenrick-claim-about-asylum-seekers-saying-they-are-children

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/retaliate#:~:text=%3A%20to%20return%20like%20for%20like,retaliate%20an%20injury

https://www.justice.gov/elderjustice/red-flags-elder-abuse-0

https://www.nursinghomeabuse.org/nursing-home-abuse/#:~:text=Nursing%20home%20abuse%20occurs%20when,medical%20emergencies%2C%20and%20even%20death.

https://www.yorkshirepost.co.uk/news/jail-for-sadistic-care-staff-who-filmed-abuse-of-elderly-patients-1947358

I miss you, love, so slow the seconds wind.
Posted on June 11
It seemed to me my vision and my mind
A template made to put into the world
Brought you into being by my side.

I miss you, love, so slow the seconds wind.
I creep into the space between the words
I made you in my vision and my mind

Is there only chaos, no design?
Are we dust around the spaces whirled?
I bring you into being by these lines

I smell your skin and see your eyes alive
I move my head ,oh you have disappeared
It seems both from my vision and my mind

Why did all the pit props fall down blind?
I crept under coal, with darkness smeared
A person alien to humankind

Where is my death, when it’s no longer feared?
Where is my love when no-one else is here.
I imagined you in vision and in mind
I pulled you into being, which one died?

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/d841ff52-49bf-460e-bcac-4bf19d8f6a94?shareToken=20d171d4553337834a6ffe88d5ae92e7

Words can help buoy you up. Making every minute count. Making memories. Only the snobbish and arrogant, the ever so healthy, mock aphorisms as trite. When things seem impossibly gloomy, when I don’t think I can take much more bad news, I turn to another wicked old friend. In the past I called her the emphysemic pit pony, because she has short legs and used to wheeze when she pushed my wheelchair uphill. That was long ago, before getting old became unavoidable and before I bought a power chair for going any distance. Now she’s over 70, still has short legs, still smokes one roll-up a day and employs the most dogged, brilliant, multipurpose saying of all:

Every day above ground is a good day.