impinge | Etymology, origin and meaning of impinge by etymonline

Harlow

https://www.etymonline.com/word/impinge

1530s, “fasten or fix forcibly,” from Latin impingere “drive into, strike against,” from assimilated form of in- “into, in, on, upon” (from PIE root *en “in”) + pangere “to fix, fasten” (from PIE root *pag- “to fasten”). Sense of “encroach, infringe” first recorded 1738. Related: Impinged; impinging; impingent.

On the motorbike

There were three of us on this motorbike,
Father Dan with me,
And he had Jesus in his bag.
That makes the total three.

Transubstantiation, oh my Lord
I looked at his black bag.
Is Jesus inside there, I thought?
Should it have a tag?

It’s a secret never told
Father Dan gave it me to hold.
So I had Jesus in my lap,
No wonder now I feel a gap.

We zoomed off up an unmade road
As fast as Dan could go.
I felt bewildered and bemused,
I loved my Daddy so.

Father Dan took back his bag,
And went inside our house.
I got my marbles out to roll,
I feared I’d see a mouse.

So Three of had taken a ride
And after that, my Dad had died.
Father Dan said Mass today
Still with Jesus, so I cried.

Beaks of tiny birds

Fragments of people,feel like splintered glass,

Impinge upon my heart and do not pass

Unike a sword or dagger they do not kill

Yet do not have a collective single will.

Like tiny phrases put into few words

They pierce my skin like beaks of sharp eyed birds

Writing makes me breathe differently

Sometimes writing makes me breathe differently.
I can feel the silence settle around me,
Like a prayer shawl.
i accept it gratefully.
There’s a thin feeling to the day
As if the sun might have tried harder
to come through
But it had a blue feeling
And the clouds were greedy,
Wanting too much to melt
And shed their moisture.
Some perfume please.I think it was £27.99
Yes,I like that one even more than jasmine oil.
Pour it down over London
Like a  blessing.
A black woman laughed and patted my arm,
You’re so funny, she cried.
And I smiled coyly
As if someone hidden was taking my photograph.
Sometimes life’s too sweet
And needs a little pepper.
The chair creaks as I lean forward
Trying to see everything at once
As if it all happened now, not yesterday.

May the fire not burn you

Standing close together,but not looking

We lean forward touching foreheads lightly against each other

Eyes closed

Tenderly we graze

On the other?s smell,skin,softness.

I feel your heart beating

As it it were mine.

We lean for a few more moments like this.

Wordless.But everything else speaks

Holding the broken places,with love.

Then we turn and walk away

Yet those moments last forever.

Foreheads touching,

Skin on skin..

Our boundaries.

You are another subjectivity

A real person

Wanting nothing but everything

I see your smile.

You were with me

And now we go our ways

On our own journey.

One meeting of souls

Remains a blessing forever

May you be blessed

May the fire not burn you

Nor the water drown you

May the Lord keep you always near him.

Forever blessed.

I release you.

Welcome to God’s eye

Dwell inside your heart and breathe just so
From there your spirit body can outflow
Spread this round your loved one like a shawl
No need to make a sound for love will call

Two are one like lovers in their bed
But now one has to leave, love cuts the thread
In full silence welcomed by God’s eye
They concentrate on this before they die

In your gracious warmth they’re feeling safe
As a child is in a mother’s gaze
Time no longer matters. we’re elsewhere
Walking humbly ,softly through God’s stare

At last the work is done and they are free
Who can understand such mystery?

To find true rest

Feeling strained,thoughts all a-riot,
I feel unable to be quiet.
I feel tense,I can’t sit down..
My eyes glare out and how I frown!

I talk too fast,I lack patience
I lose touch with my common sense.
To follow instructions from a guide
Seems harder when my mind is tired.

I discovered once that deep inside.
Peace and stillness still abide.
To find that place we each must be
Desireless, till at last we see.

Deep ,deep down there is true rest
And warmly there our souls are blessed.
All we have to do is wait
To get in touch with this dear state.

We share affinity with trees,
With flowers,cats, bats and bumble bees.
Let all thought and controls go.
Let this,the mind, become more slow,

Perception’s better when we’re still
Emptied of desire and will;
Deep inside a melody
stirs our hearts and sets them free.

A pain in the leg

LAs Mary ate her Weetabix, she felt a pain in her left leg rather like a toothache gone astray
Emile, what are you doing?
Emile crawled out looking dusty. And he had just had a bath.
I was trying to bite the hairs off your leg, he miaowed plaintively
There are no hairs on my leg, she whispered. Oh, dear,I must have walked into a cobweb
I wish Stan had got a cobweb brush, she muttered tp herself
But do we really need a different brush for everything? Soon we will have one for each tooth. That will be expensive
She felt in her pocket for her Tablet. She wanted to draw a diagram of her brush cupboard using an Android App. But her pocket was empty
The back door opened and in ran Annie wearing a yellow nightdress and matching slippers
Hello, she cried. I wanted to catch you before 9 am
Why, asked Mary?
The postman will be here by then. He has got a parcel for me. But I put your address.
What is the point of secrecy when you live alone? You have no man to question your expenses, have you? Nor a woman either
Well, Emile might ask me to explain.
Just because Emile is male it does not give him the right to tell you what to do
All my life I have obeyed men, Annie cried
Yes, after you have manipulated, seduced and terrified them
That is very cruel. I was only trying to help them.
Well, you may have done, but why not help yourself?
How can I do that?
Tune into your body and see what comes to mind
Beetroot, Annie responded.
So you must need them, get dressed and we will go to the greengrocers
You have got very bossy, said Annie. Did you have a nightmare?
It was more like a night-tiger, Mary revealed. Something bit my foot and it hurt
Oh, mother , cried Emile, it was me!
You, Emile. What made you do that, she said angrily?
It was in my way as I crawled under the duvet, the cat whispered.
Surely you could have gone further down.
I wanted to see what you tasted like!
That is evil, not to say perverted, Mary told him. I shall take you for therapy or would Confession be better? Is it a compulsion you cannot help or is it a sin?
Annie was silent. She did not like questions nor any kind of prolonged thought
Don’t ask me, she finally said. Maybe Emile needs a man in the house.
I don’t want any more men, Mary said sadly. They seem to die
Well, Stan was 128 years old. Annie informed her.I saw his birth certificate once. Unless it was 12.8 years
Don’t be so ridiculous. How could he have been 12.8 years old?
It must be a miracle, said Annie. Tell the Pope and he might be declared a saint soon
St Stan of Knittingham, Patron Saint of Almost Adolescents.
The bell rang. In ran Dave.
He was dressed in navy.
I am ready to take you to Church, he told the ladies
To church? I’d rather go to Wigan Pier
Oh, the sea is not there on Sundays!
Is it there on the Sabbath, Annie muttered?
No, it’s not, Dave said quietly
Wow, two more miracles, she said as she fainted into the Pantry
How annoying, Mary said. I just classified the jam
Well, things could be worse, said Dave. She’s not broken any and cut herself
What, she falls and breaks nothing. She must be very light.
Yes, she is quite electric, he quipped
Whatever next? The marmalade!
And so ask all of us

Average household income, UK – Office for National Statistics

https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/personalandhouseholdfinances/incomeandwealth/bulletins/householddisposableincomeandinequality/financialyearending2022

This is disposable income so I imagine it is before tax.

The average worker who does not exist take some 2,750 a month after tax etc. Is this is a family and only one adult is working full time

while one is an at home parent it is not an awful lot of money to live on. Survival needs may not be met for a lot of people who are earning less than this amount.

In the Sunday times today there is an article saying you need to earn at least 200,000 pounds a year before you live in enviable lifestyle.

When we bought our house in the 1970s during our first winter there we couldn’t afford to buy any new shoes.

The average disposable income now or last year was

£32,800 in the UK.

But when they ask for more money like the nurses and the teachers they are told their greedy loisy and hopelessly that it managing money.

And some people living on universal benefits our envious of people living on the state pension that I don’t think they realize that the state pension is linked to your national insurance contributions over a large number of years.

People living on benefits should not blame pensioners for taking all the money.£200 a week is not an awful lot to live on especially for those people paying rent. You might be paying £50 a week for your heating. Perhaps s the government should provide cookery lessons to tell us how to make meals from cheap ingredients like breast of lamb,tripe, lentils, shin of beef, bread.

The average reading age in this country is 9. 4 years. So if that’s a median average 50% of the population of a reading edge of less than 9.4 years and maybe unable to read the government’s recipe book, How to live on the breadline without dying

No matter how we fail

I’ve got just one letter
written in your hand.
One small letter.
I understand,
One is as infinity
compared to having nought.
I’ll keep this letter
In the museum of my heart.
I’ve only got one photograph
and that is very old
but to me this photograph
is more valuable than gold.
Time has hastened by.
Is it now too late?
But may there be a second chance?
Let’s not accept love’s fate.
No matter how we falter,
No matter how we fail,
We can still forgive ourselves,
and rewrite this sad tale.
One more loving letter,
One more loving smile,
That will be sufficient
To revive a love grown frail.
For once this love was stronger;
Once this love was true;
Accept this invitation
To recreate our love anew

The police car outside

As Mary

ate her topside with green peas,she gazed out of the front window where a police car was parked.They had gone to speak to her neighbours.Her neighbours had 23
dogs and a dead cat .all in the back garden for recreation and making holes in fences or other places
When Mary had come home from the delightful dentist she had been attacked by 5 of the dogs on her own patio
who were bored with their own garden so has made a hole in the fence as was their wont.
She sat silentky her mind brooding about animals,and their force, as she ate the last roast potato and wondered if she had a pudding
Suddenly a cold wind seemed to blow across the room as Annie her delightful neighbour
had run in without closing the back door firmly
Hello dear.Put the kettle on for me, Mary ordered Annie
I am sorry,Annie said,I have lost weight but even so the kettle won’t fit me
Why do you take things so literally,Mary asked?
I am trying to be funny, Annie muttered indecisively, her blood red lipstick melting down her chin and dripping onto the floor
Good grief, what a mess,Mary said.Hang on, your lips are bleeding
I keep biting them,Annie revealed.
Why?
To stop myself screaming at those people with the dogs.What will you do?
Her mascara from Mix Vector in dark brown began to melt and created streaks across her rose beige moisturising foundation from Bess of Arden
Are you crying,Mary asked curiously
I must be.I have tears in my eyes.I am over-identifing with your feelings.
Empathy has its limits,Mary said sweetly>I phoned the police and they came here
They were amazed he has 23 dogs.They have gone to see him.
How can they afford to feed so many dogs?
Oh,I feel faint,ring 999
In ran Dave the bisexual, transvestment paramedic all dressed in tartan
Why are the police here, he asked anxiously
It’s about the dogs attacking Mary.
Shall I make some nice strong tea,Dave asked wisely
Good idea, said Annie
How is Emile taking this?
I’ve sent him to my sister’s for a break,But I miss him
Goodness me, what a terrible time you are having
They all went into the lounge and sat down on the grey high backed armchairs
Here is the tea,Dave cried as he put the tray down on a low table.Don’t let it go cold~
Shall I give them some cake, he asked Mary?
Why not, she answered.See what you can find
It is very hard if neighbours attack you,Why, I’ve even read about murders at times like this,Dave cried.
Let’s see how it goes,Mary said quietly.They are not fools
I hope you are right,Dave said wisely
Rolling Stones never get mopped
Evert cloud has a silver lining~
When glum ,keep mum
Ah
Amen

Was it wasted?

Where has all my love  gone to
All the love I poured on you
Where has all the love gone to
Was it all, was it all wasted?

The actions and the calls of love
Disappear  like flying doves
Is there meaning I can’t give
Was it all, was it all wasted?

Pouring fragrance on his feet
Money wasted, it might seem
Signs and symbols darkly gleam
Nothing  ever is, nothing ever is wasted

We all live in faith our love
Where it comes from, how it does
We live in faith , like hand in glove
Pour  the love  and let it rove
Excess and glorious as above
For it’s made to be,made to be wasted

Why writing when older may be easier

I feel as older people we may be less worried about what others say or think.But the main reason writing poetry could be easier is we have a bigger vocabulary if we have read interesting books and poetry throughout our lives.I do not know before I have written a poem quite what I am going to say.But the structure provides a limiting frame.Then the first sentence determines much of what can follow.But what can follow also depends on what is inside our own head and also on conversations we have had, things we noticed when out for a walk.These may enter us like the air does, without effort or will.So should the poems we read and the novels and the other books we love.Even Euclid might come in handy… a bit of logic does no harm and geometric shapes can be symbols for more than mathematics, where they are more likely signs in fact [ My mistake!]

Love gives the soul her appetite.

Love gives the soul her appetite.

Though the night is black and starless,

The inner guide is never careless.

The notes are struck,the tune is played,

Plain melodies are overlaid.

In this chant and benediction,

Healing comes for desolation.

Though the passage way is narrow,

This road is the one to follow.

Struggling through the mud and mire,

We see,in darkness, tongues of fire.

The sacred centre of our life

Is never found without some strife.

Just then, the dark and light combine.

To create a symbol for the mind

The oxymoron class

There is a sentence often spoke
In jest or repartee:
“See how the cookie crumbles,mate.
Why don’t you have more tea?”

But my cookies don’t crumble
They bend in multi-ways.
Why here are some I made for you
Only yesterday.

You want to know why cookies bend?
Well,mine are made from rubber.
They look impressive on the plate…
As good as any other.

But when you pick one up to start
And press it in your hands
It does not crumble,but just falls
Into a thousand rubber bands.

The guests suffer embarrassment
As they gaze down in dismay.
But the children and the dogs and cats
are happy as they play.

I gave my lover,one cookie
I gave him three or four
But he was never satisfied
Until I gave him more.

Then when I met him later on
He seemed to be in pain…
And claims his doctor told him off
For eating food again.

So now I’m having lessons
In how to bake real fakes.
It’s called the Oxymoron Class
And you should see our cakes.

I made one,I made two,
I made fifty four.
But now the freezer’s full right up
So I can’t make no more.

I want some crumbly cookies,
But mother doesn’t know.
She has gone to heaven above…
Oh,how I miss her dough!

BVD Can Cause Anxiety – Optometrists.org

https://www.optometrists.org/general-practice-optometry/guide-to-binocular-visual-dysfunction/bvd-symptoms-and-treatment/bvd-can-cause-anxiety/#:~:text=But%20did%20you%20know%20that,image%E2%80%94%20despite%20having%20two%20eyes.

Z

How does BVD lead to anxiety?

In severe cases of BVD, symptoms like dizziness may be so intense that a panic attack can be triggered just by walking outside.

This is especially true for those who don’t know they have BVD — the unexplained dizziness and disorientation only exacerbate their anxiety. 

Anxiety from BVD can even cause agoraphobia, a fear of leaving the home. Visually-busy environments, such as a grocery store or mall, can cause sensory overload and lead to panic attacks.

When BVD leads to reduced attention….

Stan and the Brillo pad

Yes, my husband is a changed man since he died
I have dreamed of him so frequently he hides
One night we knelt down on the kitchen floor
With brillo pads in hand we scrubbed the door

Then we cleaned the oven for two hours
Death has given him such odd new powers
He never speaks nor asks me what to do
Thank the Lord our fireplace has no flue

I see more of him now that he is dead
For every night these dreams live in my head
He does not go to work nor write more books
He goes to Ealing and he wants to cook

Should I buy some ground in the church yard?
I have his ashes standing by the lard
In the fridge the suet waits for me
To make an apple dumpling for our tea

Oh, yes he likes to know what I shall eat
He starved to death,his heart was far too weak
But yet he likes to see me eat and sleep
And have a little cat next to my feet

So far I do not love another man
I shall become pan-sexual if I can
For then I need not worry who to please
I hate to lose myself but like to tease

Should my husband see me in the bed
With another pillow and a head
He might feel unwanted and be sad!
Yet he left me and now I’m feeling mad

Why clean the oven, clean the kitchen sink?
Why change the plugs and make the cat drink ink?
Why have breakfast, why eat bread and jam?
Why cook bacon in the frying pan?

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?
Why get up when I shall later lie?
Why get washed when dirt comes back again?
Why wash my hair and use a fountain pen?

I wonder why the floor is full of mud
And whether nature gave me enough blood.
Life is so precarious use it well
Before all hear the tolling of the knell

My husband has a rubber face

  • My husband has a rubber face,
    He’s from a subspecies of the human race.
    Some men have faces fixed and set
    My husband’s face is not like that
  • He imitates our politicians,
    Just like Rory Bremner can.
    Though he has no wig or hair piece,
    He can look like anyone.
  • Some nights I waken for I am laughing
    While I am quite sound asleep.
    I am dreaming of his mobile features,
    Contorted to a different shape.He is skilled at telling jokes.
    And he loves a good cartoon.
    If I am feeling flu type blueness

  • Hhe can get me up again.
  • He has a rather noble visage.
    He gets attention he abhors.
    In the bar on King’s Cross Station—
    I was asked was he a Lord!He’s a Lord of Fun and Humour.
    He’s a Lord at Listening Well.
    He’s unique, but so are you,
    And all creatures that on earth do dwell

The ancient holy song

Although it’s dark, out there the blackbird sings
His territory  is the same as in the past
An ancient ,holy sound begins the Spring.

These birds are little dinosaurs with wings
Like the spider they adapt so last
Although it’s dark, out there my blackbird sings.

What other pleasures will the season bring?
The crocus flowers the daffodils,long grass
An ancient ,holy sound begins the Spring.

In my leafy wood, birds wisely throng.
We have no cat nor greenhouse with its glass
Although it’s dark, out there my blackbird sings.

In my heart, for Northern moors I long;
The heather where we loved, the sheep shorn grass
As ancient ,holy sounds began the Spring.

Yet I am rarely mournful for the past
God lives in each moment,Life’s our Mass
Although it’s dark out there the blackbird sings
An ancient ,holy sound begins the Sprin

Shut the door to refugees

Where have all the cowards gone?
Wrong time passing
Where have all the cowards gone
Wrong rhyme ago?
Where have all the cowards gone?
In the government half of them
When will they pay and go?
When will old Satan show?

See him in a liar’s eyes
See him in the murky skies
See him laugh as children die
See him,hear him by and by
when will we ever learn?

Let children drown in warm blue seas
Shut the doors to refugees
Like we did to Europe’s Jews
Just buy red poppies and feel pleased
When will we truly mourn?
When will we ever grieve?

Taunt no more the hints of man

Taunt no longer idiots on these isles
For like the Lord they are not English pure
They voted for the stupid and the wild

In appearance, May looks fairly mild
For old men, she has a faint allure
Being the headless sweeper of church aisles

Boris Johnson Turkey has defiled
He cooked his goose in rapeseed oil uncured
As befits the madmen and the wild

Michael Gove’s own head his heart beguiled
What saves him from the deserts of the sewer
Taunt no longer morons on these isles

The NHS is poorer mile by mile
It’s good if you are dying on the wires
Even when it’s suicide to smile

Mrs Thatcher never paid the toll
She wrote a cheque and signed the counterfoil
Taunt no longer MPs on these isles
We chose among the cunning, the most vile.

Mr Putin s mind is very cold

The freshness of spring air soothes human souls

Except there is a war a Russian start

So our happy feelings can’t take hold

Though late,spring air does soothe our anxious souls

Mr Putin’s mind is very cold.

Nothing but a bomb gives him delight

Soft the sunny air on stricken souls

The freshness of such air soothes human souls

Except, forever lost, old Russians fight