Diligent yet indolent

I feel that this is rather like what I called the Art of Doing Nothing
Because it involves no will power;because while it may lead to
productive work in writing or the arts yet cannot be effortful [ that’s how our Imagination works]
We are communicating with the depths of our soul & also of Nature
Even in the Sciences I feel it plays a part.Andrew Wiles found t the solutionto a very hard maths problem when he left his desk and went down a country lane
Of course Wiles needed to spend years learning mathematics before this otherwisehe could not had the tools to use to take advantage of his inspiration
We spent much time at school learning maths>Unfortunately few of us reach the creative level
We are learning “things that come in useful later on”
Alas for most, “later on” is still in the far distance.
Might it be better to fill children’s minds with common sense
curiousity,joy in Nature and in company?
As long as one has the basic skills, the rest should be an awakening of the mind and heart
In present day culture this sounds outlandish.
But what is life without it?

Photo by Francesco De tommaso on Pexels.com

Questions

Do you believe in abortion?
I am sorry, I don’t even believe in God


Are you a vegetarian?
I’ll bring my own meat with me.I can bring a joint

Do you believe in women’s right to choose?
I have fifty pairs.

Do you think a wife should
obey the husband?
As long as she chose the right one.

Do you like fifty shades of grey?
No, but I can’t afford a cleaner and I am arthritic

Could you write a novel?
No, only a meta-novel

Did you vote Labour
Yes,I can’t see how a lapsed Catholic could do otherwise

Don’t drop everything

Art by Katherine using Microsoft Paint [ you can’t spill it


If someone  drops you a hint, never try to sweep it under the carpet
If they drop a clanger, ask what the weather forecast is  to help them recover their cool
If someone drops  you right into it, bury your head in the sands
I asked what postmodernism was and they dropped me from the Committee
I went red as my knickers dropped off in Church, Can I askfor a refund or replacement
I’m sorry I dropped off while you weren’t here for tea.Do “not come again” next week
I once dropped a baked ham and we had no carpet!
My hair was set on fire when a flame leaped out of the oven.I dropped my pretensions and called
for help using all the swear words you never see in a dictionary.To no avail.

Then I had to confess.I was born on the wrong side of the bed
Why have they dropped common sense from the curriculum.Oh, it was never in it.Say no more

She’ll leave a vacuum

Do you come here often?
Only when it’s not in my own house.
How often is that?
Five times a week.
Oh,you’re in therapy?
Aren’t you?
No,I’m the therapist!
I don’t recognize your face!
Well..I’m always crouching behind the sofa.
Oh,yes,so you are.Why is that?
It’s my training.We have to hover evenly.
When I finish my therapy,shall I be able to hover too?
Not necessarily,but you’ll be able to hoover.
But it could be years.
I know.It’s tough.
But my wife has asthma.
Does she want therapy?
No,she just needs the house hoovering daily.
Well,it will take time but we’ll get there.
I have an idea!
What is it?
I could lie on the sofa and you could pop into my house and hoover it!
Oh,no.I don’t think so!
But you can do an awful lot in fifty minutes.
But I don’t know how to use a hoover!
Well,why not enter into further therapy to overcome your disability?
I don’t think my wife would like it.
Why not?
I always get a very strong transference.
Have therapy with a hoover.The transference could be useful.You could earn more money cleaning!
Mm.Excuse me I think I can see a vacuum over by the door.See you tomorrow.Well,you won’t see me but you’ll hear me.
That’s a little unfriendly.
Well.nature abhors a vacuum.
I quite like them.I’m a vacuum flask salesman.
Really?Ten years in therapy and it never came up.
Well,I’m still enmeshed with my mother.
She’ll leave a vacuum when her image goes.
True enough.
Don’t be too hasty to fill it.
Why not?.
Wait to see how your unconscious feels.
That will be hard to tell as it’s unconscious!
Unconscious,subconscious,conscientious.
Am I too un-conscientious?
No,you are very scrupulous.
That’s a relief!
Why?
Only the best people get scruples.
How do you know that?
My unconscious tells me!

Mary and the pink coat

Photo by Andre David Manjon Escobar on Pexels.com

Emile woke  Mary up at 7am.It was a  Sunday in  late October, grey and damp though the sun was still not  too low in the sky
Go away, she told him.The clock has changed.It’s not 8 am yet.I have to wash my hair as well.Get the Observer out of the basket for me,please.
I can’t read. the dear animal replied.And why don’t you rebel and stick to Summer Time?
I know Stan wanted to send you to Eton but we couldn’t afford it.Yet you understand days and calenders, Mary joked  sorrowfully
She got up and found her fleece dressing gown; it was   conker brown covered in coloured spots.She went downstairs and gave Emile a Whitby kipper.Then she made some tea and took it upstairs so she could drink it while she came round from her dreams
Suddenly Annie ran into   her bedroom wearing a  long black vinyl coat and  red knee-high boots
You never locked the back door, she howled like a lost  leopard which has had no  food for weeks
I don’t suppose anyone wants my old TV as it is only 19 inches.And my Chromebook is not something worth re-selling.I do have a new coat.
How about Ray Monk’s life of Wittgenstein, Annie asked her defiantly, her apricot lips pouting childishly as the Riemann of Paris lipstick glittered uncannily like an imaginary number in a dream of Godel.
The people who might enjoy reading it are by virtue of that , not the sort to steal or buy it on the black market.
That is very racist, Annie told her.You should say:the beige market!
Then nobody would know what I meant, Mary said lovingly
Anyway, do you want to come to Marks with me? They have some beautiful coats in
I’d like a pink wool coat, said Mary thoughtfully
Quite right  ,said Annie.Bring back feminine colours
Actually, gay men might like pink coats, she continued.But if they go on the bus they might get dirty.Come to think of it, so will women’s coats
They will have to buy pink puffa jackets and we can wash them at 30 deg.Mary whispered
Using a special detergent, Annie asked?
I have never seen a detergent for washing gay men.I don’t think they will fit into the washing machine.On the other hand, you are small so you will fit in
Shall I get undressed first, Annie asked furtively.
Yes, I’ll try to put you on a  short wash for 15 minutes but it is your choice.Maybe a bath would be safer?
No problem, said Annie intellectually.Are you having one with me?
You’d better be careful, Mary ad-libbed.It might be sexual harassment.
Well, I am not gay , said Annie.
You never know till you try, Mary giggled ,like a child behind the school canteen
Why, we might become gender fluid and then who knows?
And so say all of us
Miaow

Accidents



Someone round the corner broke her leg.She was washing her foot in the sink
Why not put some washing up liquid on your foot then put it in the toilet and flush?
It won’t suck your whole body down… so they tell me

If you get up in the night,make sure you are going the right way.
I was trying to get into the wardrobe at 3 am .Maybe we need enlightening?

If you are fatter but your feet look thinner, you may be losing muscle mass
Try walking about.

I am glad the window frames are badly fitting.I don’t need to open the window

All these years telling us to insulate our homes and nobody realised it would mean the air was stale
Why is bread stale?
Stale is a weird word.
Air in means Virus out

Dominic Cummings is going to be beheaded at the Tower soon….Carrie!

I wish I didn’t have to eat or walk about.I’d like to fly and live on insects
I am a latent bird

Short stories by Betul Erbasi

I like this story

Short Story 134: Oh Well

Ahh, those moments when you become someone else. Times when you say things you would not say otherwise. Those times when emotions take over you, control you.

That is all she was able think today. She rarely lost control of her words. But today she had. Oh well.

Was she justified because she was right to be angry? Would being in the right justify the bad sentences that came out of her mouth?

She thought of that too. Ultimately, she decided that bad words were never justified. Not in her world at least. You should either let it go or watch your words, she thought to herself. Maybe bad words could be justified if the offending person was a bad, bad person. But not in this situation. This really didn’t fit her. She should have let it go. Oh well.

The bad things about words you say is that you can’t take them back. She loved Rumi the poet. He had said

“Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates:Is it true?Is it necessary?Is it kind?”

She hadn’t listened to him this time. Oh well.

In this situation, she was objectively justified. But she could not justify herself. Oh well.

Dandruff shampoo

I’ve done nothing at all today
I just breathe and I eat and I pray
My mind is contemplative
And yet I’m inventative
Why did God make me this way?


I have written a poem, you demur
Is that work like cleaning cat’s fur?
I love little Minny
She scratches the sinners
Never ask me what my scars are

I have brushed all my hair I admit
Well,I can’t find that comb for the nits
I’ve got my dandruff shampoo
What is it that you do?
Gather it up bit by bit?

As we get older hair thins
And we cannot open our tins
But I love the privilege
I am jury and love a judge
I have a confession, I have sinned

Oh, dusk suggests

Summer
2019

Failed Encounter
2019

Movement
2018

Retratos
2017

Disappearance
2016

Dusk and winter rain combined
Bring old memories to mind
Hiding in the foggy park,
With my satchel, dancing stark
Cracking frosty pools ,I stamp

Icy webs hang from the lamps
Dusk, a secret time and state
In between the school and gate
Jumping,skipping, tossing hands
Imagination and its lands
Chasing,screaming, waltzing on
Children’s voices, children’s fun
When it’s dark, out Mother comes
Calls us home to do our sums
Homework,what a cursed word
Dusk and twilight, angels lark
I see the moon from my big bed
The curtains thinner than a thread
Cracks in pavements patterns make
Like God, like prophet
s, the earth shake

We see,in darkness, tongues of fire.

Signs and symbols guide the route.

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

I charge you

Instead of looking forward to going to heaven,
We look forward to a phone that charges faster
Charging faster made no difference to the Light Briga
de

We looked forward to going to the Library on Saturdays
Now we get e-books in two minutes
Disconnected from our Community

We went to church on Sundays
Now we want proof God exists
Is this an improvement?

We did Al-gebra at the Grammar School
Who invented it and why?

What is “x” anyway?

God with you

Bring your own God with you, you can’t help it anyway
I have heard you singing, don’t tell me you can’t pray
We’re strung like beads along a chain, we’re linked with none left out
Every time that someone dies, there opens a new mouth
Mouth brings voice, the people’s choice, there is no faking Truth
Eat and live, speak and grieve, give and so receive
Eyes to see and ears to hear,grace may be about
Still the Sirens wail and moan, leave them, they can’t c
ount

The dark

Here the cats’ claws tear at the wood
As they run over trunks they bare bled
Crows caw, blinded, hieroglyphics
Feet to be read, marks made at speed
Horrific,horrific, the Greek metonymics
The cats claws’ screams seen in the bark
Hummed far too fast, straight into the dark

Oh,little world


My heart rose up in gladness for this dawn
No round sun, a reddened strip, appeared
Of red sky, the wiser shepherds warned

The shepherds played reed pipes,not great ram’s horns
Their music heard by lovers stilled the ear
My heart rose up in gladness for this dawn

The glances and the touches made love warm
So into their Communion they were steered
Oh,red sky, the wiser shepherds called

The first emotion may end up forlorn
The true appearance may change love to fear
My heart rose up in gladness for this dawn

The little lives of shepherds,time untorn
No texts, no phone, no chat, great peace is near
For red sky, the wiser shepherds warned

In my eye I felt a rush of tears
I turned away, the sun was fierce, sincere
My heart rose up in gladness for red dawn
Misreading thus, by wisdom ill informed

How to raise your chance of a quick death

Photo by Julia Volk on Pexels.com




If you are afraid of a lingering death I have just found an answer!

Do more dangerous things like these below
Fly your own plane or just fly on any plane every week
Go swimming in places where there are dangerous currents in the sea
[This is often where a large river joins the sea such as The Wash,UK]
Drive a car before you take lessons.Go alone but the risk to others is unfair.
Just travel a lot in any way
Mix with angr, drunken people every night
Find a new partner with a very bad temper who likes cooking,Make sure there are lots of knives in the kitchen.Keep going in asking how soon dinner will be ready or where are your clean underpants

Photo by Dziana Hasanbekava on Pexels.com

The main problem is whether others will be injured.
Wait till you feel unwell then walk along a cliff top
Keep lots of animals and let them over-run your house
Snakes are one possibility

It seems odd to risk your life like this but it’s really saving you from years
in a hospital bed wearing a gown with a slit back and a candelebra in your hand
or is it a primula?
And who wants that?
Also this risky behaviour is a way of retaining control over your life and death
That is the paradox

They rose from the bed

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com


Please choose a gentle piece of music for your ringtone
[But nothing from Wagner any way]

We all have insomnia.Just work through it
We regret live sex is not allowed but you can dream
Mobile groans will be ignored
Please do not shock us by rising from the bed
Please sit down on your chair and not the consultant’s knee.
Kindly do not tell the doctor he is stupid.He knows already.
The doctor is only a pest when exhausted
Kindly pretend to listen to the Consultant on his round
Kindly do not eat cream buns  or meringues in front  of the Consultant.He is on a diet.
Kindly avoid catching any bugs belonging to or emanating from this hospital and vice versa
Please do not swallow your Kindle Fire before lights out.Buy a bigger one next time
Keep yourself clean.Take a bed by the open window during a storm.
Kindly avoid dying when we are busy.You can if you think you can
Kindly do not write verse  on your sheets unless in water soluble ink
Kindly recover before Friday as we are shutting for the weekend
Kindly write poetry on paper and not on your arms and legs.
Kindly do not copy these rules down.They are our secret.
Kindly keep all you hear secret especially from visitors
Please do not breathe out bad breath
We will take you for a scan in Rymans if you pay.
Bribes are forbidden, but we take them anyway

We love all religions,but don’t argue in here.Go outside and fight if you must.
Don’t convert us while ill
Be holier than thou
Confession is available of Saturdays 5-8 pm if you can walk and talk
Where is God?

High the cost

I am this, the cobble stones
Hot tar between the wails and groans
Some stones are flat,our stones were round
Snap entry to the Underground
I am the pools in pavement holes
In winter frost you crack my bones
On my surface, children prance
I am the stage,I am the dance
I see you and you see me
As your peek with bended knee
I am the bricks that built your house
I am the mousehole and the mouse
Here comes Ginger, the big cat
He caught a chicken and a rat
Here the coal shed, here the lav
That is what our houses had
Cold it is if menstrual pain
Comes on in the night again
Colder still to lose your child
To the sewers wizened smile
I am the earth on which we grew
I am the mystery,I the clue

Stand on me,I am your strength
I the bowler,I the length
Golden children came to dust
I the promise,I the cost

Beggar man

  • I saw you on the pavement
    with your old brown dog
    You were shabby,poor,ragged,
    Sat on your tartan rug.
    You had water for the dog,
    You hugged him and you sang,
    But the people walked on by,
    And no-one looked at you.
    No-one looked at you.

    But you still sang your song.
    And you sent me so much love
    It crossed from eye to eye.
    I felt it coming in.

  • I heard that you had died,
    Though you were only thirty three.
    Only thirty three.
    I wonder,where’s your dog?
    I felt our souls had touched,
    You gave to me so much
    As I wandered in my grief
    Through the roads and round the streets.
    In your glance, you touched my heart.
    I felt love swimming through,
    From you right into me.

    Will you come again?
    I see all these dim, grey men
    Who cut your benefits
    To give more wealth to few;
    So that the needle’s eye,
    which is waiting when we die,
    is forgotten, for they want
    protection for their wealth.

    I wish that beggar man
    would come back here again.
    I liked to hear his songs
    But I can’t recall the tunes;
    Maybe I’ll write songs myself,
    That’s the highest sort of wealth
    Our creativity
    Is a path to dignity.
    Come back.beggar man
    Wherever have you gone?
    Wherever have you gone?

I regret nothing

Don’t send me an apron for Xmas
When all that I want is a glove
A glove for the oven
Its hands must be frozen
Let’s drown the old oven in love.

Don’t send me a card on my birthday
I cannot remember your name
Just bake me a cake
I prefer it to steak
Don’t limp unless you are lame


Don’t change the sheets every week,dear
For washing them makes them wear thin
Just give me a brush
I’ll beat off the fluff
Then we can both have some fun

Don’t give me bacon for breakfast
God won’t let Jews eat it yet
His aversion to swine
Is what makes him divine
The fig tree
is dead I regret

Childhood

Medieval stone arches of Old Stirling Bridge over the River Forth with Queen Annes Lace on riverbank and Wallace Monument Stirling Scotland UK

When I was little we had a lovely picture on the wall.It was the Three Bears
My brothers and I all loved it,
When I was five,it changed into a bridge with three arches and a river

Similarly the house up out street had faces.So did the armchairs in the living room
Everything was alive and to be related to

As waves die

The music is the waves as they run high
Across the pebbly sands onto the road
Then groaning of the shingle as waves die

The fish that dwell deep in the dark, dark brine
The flow within as outer waters flow
The music of the waves as they run high

The moon reflects sun’s light to other eyes
Above the seas which rise up to its goad.
Then groans the shingle as the steep waves die

The sea holds hidden goods where we can’t pry
In the deep the heavy water moulds
The music of the waves as they run high

All the day and all of the black night
The seas and oceans change from high to low
Ah, groans the earth as each wave has to die

Re-hear these sounds, are they a sacred code?
As angels wrestled, Jacob feared the Lord
His music is the waves as they run high
His groaning is the shingle as waves die

In the desert grey

I was walking in a desert grey and bleak
All alone, with none to speak or  eat
I shuddered when I realised the truth
I was unmarried, pregnant, mere refuse.

Cast out for other failings all unknown
My baby came too soon and I alone
A doctor with no face appeared and said
Your baby died ,I see he’s never fed

He flung my baby  on his heap of dead
I lay there  in the dirt, red with  my blood
I  had to leave or I  would  die of grief
The will to live  just stronger than a  leaf

I went to see my baby, and  he smiled
He was still alive, my love,my child
I took him in my arms,  where should we go?
I walked into that darkness
full and slow

Abstruse

Photo by Hert Niks on Pexels.com

https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/abstruse


Meaning of abstruse in English

 abstruseadjective   formalUK  /æbˈstruːs/ US  /æbˈstruːs/not known or understood by many people:an abstruse philosophical essaySynonymsobscurerecherché formalrecondite formal

Let them see your feet without their shoes

When strangers ask for photos of you nude
Or wearing clothes so scanty they’ll go blind
Let them see your feet without their shoes

Let them see your twisted toes turn blue
Let them see the bunions God designed
When strangers ask for photos rather rude

Can one solve a crossword with no clues?
Can one have no bosom and look fine?
Can they love your feet without cute shoes?

When you’re feeling sad and life is blue
When you long for love but not divine
When gentlemen want photos somewhat crude

Try to sell them on the Evening News
Take the veil or drink the Altar Wine
Let them kiss your feet without their shoes

When you’re looking for the hidden signs
Don’t read numbers settlers left behind
When strangers ask for photos, give them clues
Let them wash your feet but make them queue

Keep safe

He kept his tongue in his cheek too long so he couldn’t eat
Starved to death

She  had her head screwed on the wrong way
Lack of light

He wouldn’t wear his glasses so fell down a well
Unconscious suicidal wish or vanity led to error

She wore shoes that were too small and developed 100 untreated corns
Died of stupidity or poverty

His brain got stuck on the underground as his head fell off his body.
The glueless disease

She wore a yellow bikini on the beach which attracted a lot of wasps
Need I say more?
Died fighting as men wept

She was baking bread but got into the oven and was roasted with a potato
Bad luck.Only do one thing at a time
Died of hyperactivity and lack of concentration

He was writing a blog post and got sad as it seemed too poor
Then he drowned his sorrows [ and himself

He got chilblains which stopped him from walking so his blood froze

Verdict: Bad weather and lack of housing

Arthritis made her so stiff we put her into a coffin and accidentally buried her
Verdict-Misadventure and human error

She fell over the cat and hit her head on the fridge
Verdict? Misfortune as skull too thin

She got off a moving bus as the doors opened
Verdict: Died of conceit

Owls surprise

Photo by Francesco De tommaso on Pexels.com

Look without and see the claret sky
The sun is falling like Greek wine tonight
As sparrows hide in holly,safe from eyes

We need protection till our minds sublime
Into dusty corners shine their lights
Look without and see the curious sky

Tell your heart, your truth, though others lie
Seem rewarded with both cash and spite
Oh, sparrows hide in holly, leaves awry

A man is called an emperor , yet he dies
Look without and see the fatal signs
The sky is turning panic to delight

At last, philosopher, the silence sighs
Throw away the your thoughts, cold or benign
As sparrow safe in holly, shut their eyes

The hawk may soar across the sacred lines
Where patterns of complexity arise
Look without and see the open sky
When sparrows rest in holly, owls surprise

Chilly days

My toes were cold ,like frozen strips of fish
Chill- blains threaten,I must not choose this
I’ll buy some woollen tights and knit some socks
Keeping warm in winter with the flocks

Podiatry is on the NHS
And so my lady kind I vow to bless
Gentle as a mist on Whitby shores
Warmer than the sea,I can’t say more.


I ought to wear some warmer clothes at night
I have a little cat his name is Blake
He will not eat his dinner, he wants mine
I wish he were a man and we could dine


My fingers are as cold as stainless steel
Was it I who made the motor wheel ?
I like ellipses yet they do nor roll
Though neither does a dollop of hot coal

When we all are old we’ll go to God
He recycles people with his Rod
Some of us come back as Eskimos
I can guess that just by my cold toes

I prefer a hotter place to live
Hell has its attractions like a sieve
Naughty people have more fun I feel
I want to change my feet into small wheels

In the end, it’s good to feel and hope
Before we turn into the holy smoke

Menu for mad native of UK

Art by Katherine

Fried frogs on a bed of lice with free desert and Bedouin prisoner
Scottish moles and salad with hot flatbread from Gaza & strip
English Enema with free water and wafers and Syrian Refugee
Welsh Wrabbit grilled on West Bank of Thames plus Binoculars and Gun
Scottish Sausage with alimony tossed in lemon juice and oil
HP Sauce on Macaroni in butter with Russian Cheesefake

Fried Fish with chip on boulder of Galilee with boat
German Green Goose with mesh of potato free to engage
Grumbling Grand Gorse with spikes and dressing and free Baptism
Spanish Hamlet with chunky chips and a pack of cards with Joker
Linear Equations of Spaghetti with photo of salad Macbeth
Matrix of Pasta in green gauze with free wound and needle
Hindu Blessing and free food for all who smile
Cherry Tree blessed by God plus Rice and Nuts and free Tea
Irish plight and potato free
to all