Misery swamps fearful British

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I am happy to be in the one third of Britains who are not depressed by Lockdown.I’m depressed by politics and the men who seem to be unsuitable as leaders
Are we afraid of the unknown, afraid we can’t have foreign holidays or jusr fed up with summer being spoiled?
Afraid of Trump winning.. that would depress God.
I think working people have the right to be afraid, especially people on low wages already
Who would have thought that we voted democratically ‘ahahahaha to leave the EU
with a little help from Russia yet we are distressed we can’t holiday in Spain or Greece
Why don’t people join up the dots? We can never have it all….. make your own fun and joy
Can you see?
Can you hear?
Can you walk?
Have you got a family who care and some friends?
Do you own a car?
Why not take up new interests.Lots of YouTube videos are lessons in Art,sewing, philosophy etc
And if you have a good job please help charities like the Samaritans who need money if 2/3 of us are depressed

Attachment to our views

https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2020/10/reading-too-much-political-news-bad-happiness/616651/

This requires that we honestly examine our attachments. What are yours? Money, power, pleasure, prestige? Dig deeper: Just maybe, they are your opinions. The Buddha himself named this attachment and its terrible effects more than 2,400 years ago in the Aṭṭhakavagga Sutta, when he is believed to have said, “Those attached to perception and views roam the world offending people.” More recently, the Vietnamese Buddhist sage Thích Nhất Hạnh wrote in his book Being Peace, “Humankind suffers very much from attachment to views.”

As the election season heats up, many Americans are attached to their opinions—especially their political ones—as if they were their life’s savings; they obsess over their beliefs like lonely misers, and lash out angrily when they are threatened. This is the source of much suffering, for the politically obsessed and everyone else.

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The journey may be long,the end is sweet.


The pathways to the heart are made with love.
And those who truly seek will  never lose.
As virtue and her graces smile above
We see the hills ahead,the rocky views.

With willingness to cross the seas of mud,
To venture into tangled briar-filled woods.
Our soul within shows us the highest good,
For trees that looked quite dead are now in bud.

With flowers springing up  between our toes
Encouragement is ,with relief ,received
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our hearts were not deceived.

For Virgil, fortune favours those with steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet.

“Fortune favours the brave”is attributed to Pascal,Montaigne and Virgil

.

Deja who…..I know you but not your name

Deja mew…. the cat’s upset already
Deja new…. a logical impossibility
Deja you….I met you before
Deja true… an axiom
Deja due……..your payment is late
Deja slew… he was dead before I shot him, sir.
Deja new…second hand
Deja blue….. inborn sadness
Deja vile….original sin
Deja bile————-I had indigestion earlier
Deja smile……I won’t laugh again
Deja flew……I love you no more/I have gone
Deja dew—————-will it drop off?
Deja who…..I know you but not your name
Deja new………old
Deja phew….. that was hard

Never aid a fool

As hidebound as a leather chair-

As thoughtless as a broom;

He is more stuck  than is despair

Which hovers round his room

Hurt by  bullies in his school.

He made protective rules.

Never go out  with a girl

Never aid a fool.

Never vote in case you err

Never wear red  socks.

Be angry that life’s  so unfair

Live inside a box.

Always say your prayers at night#

Never read in bed

And never ever think about

What  you might do instead.

His menu was so regular,

From  change he gained no pleasure

He cut his meat up with  an axe

To make it hard to measure.

He counted every step he took

And every time he  wheezed.

He wrote it in his diary

And this act made him sneeze.

He was allergic to the air;

Allergic to the sun;

At least the tickle in his throat,

Made him laugh in fun.

He had a job with a big bank

He always wore a suit

Till one day his colleague said

That only plants had roots.

The implication seemed to be

He was in stasis glued.

He always wore the same old clothes

And ate the same old food.

Could he help himself and how?

Could he be softer skinned?

He dreamed he climbed up a great cliff

Despite  the gale and wind.

And so he  left the bank and moved

To work in a coal mine.

He crawled along the tunnels black

And measured them with twine

.

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It’s not fleas!



Does nitrofurantoin make you itch?
What are the symptoms of an allergic reaction to Macrobid?Signs of an allergic reaction, like rash; hives; itching; red, swollen, blistered, or peeling skin with or without fever; wheezing; tightness in the chest or throat; trouble breathing, swallowing, or talking; unusual hoarseness; or swelling of the mouth, face, lips, tongue, or throat.7 Mar 2020

Photo by Kelvin Valerio on Pexels.com

Have you seen this cat?

Famous last words

I may die but at least anaphylaxis gives me that bee stung lip look{!}
I never knew how to spell it but I got it anyway
Luckily it was mild but I’m not going bee hunting ever again
A bee need not be that insect, it might be penicillin
I’ll go wherever Leonard Cohen went

Anaphylaxis and other geometries

https://youtu.be/_bCPl-e9rag

Where are you,dear? the husband cried in vain
Anaphylaxis is not a maiden’s name
Files don’t carry axes nor are axes filed
I’ve had just one attack but it was quite mild


The risks of drugs, the cure that kills or maims
The cursed allergy, its deathly fame
The perils of the life of solitude
As Baez sings and Dylan’s voice intrudes

The fear that whispers through the widow’s ear
Never shall another lover disappear
The paradox of double negative
The logic of the heart,Pascal will give

The heavy doze, the silent home and place
Noone sees the tears, the shame, the face

Fooled by proof



Why have you not read the Word?
Are we talking Bible or Microsoft?
You can’t fool me!
No-one is totally foolproof
Can you prove that?
In a sense,I can.If you are tired or ill you can read words or people wrongly.
Or I suppose if you are plain stupid
Stupidity is intriguing as one can have a first class degree in maths and yet not know how to look after yourself
Suppose the degree is in Home Economics?
That is a better key to life.Using your hands helps your brain
To do what?
Why do you ask me? Can’t you guess?
I suppose the nervous system is stimulated when the eye and hand coordinate.Then the brain is balanced
Well, you are no fool
But I can still be fooled
Especially with new technology, liars and fear

This discussion was funded by the University of Lands End last seen floating West
Please let the police know if you see it

Believing one knows God is idolatry

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2013/jan/08/god-unknowable-faith

“Faith is not the progressive unearthing of God’s nature but a recognition that he/she is fundamentally unknowable. The signpost points not to growing certainty but towards increasing non-knowing. This is not as outrageous as it seems. An apophatic thread, a belief that the only way to conceive of God is through conceding that he is ineffable, runs throughout Christian history. Jan Van Ruysbroeck, the 14th century Augustinian and man of prayer, maintained that “God is immeasurable and incomprehensible, unattainable and unfathomable”. St John of the Cross, one of the pillars of western mysticism, put it even more succinctly: “If a man wishes to be sure of the road he travels on, he must close his eyes and walk in the dark.”

This redirectioning of the spiritual path has fruitful offshoots. We no longer have to ask why God orders the world in such an unsatisfactory way, allowing cancer cells and war to proliferate. Nor do we have to bombard him with prayer in order to achieve our desired ends. Such dialogue is only sustainable if you posit a personal being.”

Learn algebra my way

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com


X = mathematician’s eyes in the evening [ hence why x is used in algebra]
Y- why indeed?
Z =man praying after taking maths exam

A= women gossiping
B = mature lady’s’ figure
C=a yoga teacher
D= very fat man
E- two pews in old church
F= feeling dizzy balanced on one foot
G-=door into small w.c.
H = person with no head
I = very thin man with tiny head
J= thin man kneeling
K= more yoga
L = man sitting on the floor
M=two thin men carrying a triangular sack
N= Z on its side
O = the sun
P= thin but well endowed lady

Remotely understood

I will work remotely,as does God
But where’s my Holy spirit or white dove
Invisible connections may look odd
I will smile remotely, as did God
Especially as he let wild waters flood
When the plum trees of great Persia were in bud

Is he wise, or is his hatred love?
Mysterious ladies rarely understood
Sullen princess hides behind her glove
I will work remotely,as does God
But you can’t check me neither,understood?

An aged smiling man


An old man kissed my hand outside a shop
My hair was gleaming in the yellow sun
What surprise, what care, but what a shock
What grace there was in customs , mainly stopped
My face was bright, my stockings had no runs
A man just kissed my hand outside a shop
I should have done a selfie, what a cop!
I bet he fell in love ,ah Beatrice won
What surprise, what care, but what a shock

He was not drunk, his hands had just been mopped
I had not been so touched by anyone
Till this man kissed my hand outside a shop
In a silent morning, grace erupts
We know what’s passed but not what is to come
A man just kissed my hand outside a shop

Give us our applause, oh come on,clap!
I think we’ve fallen off the usual map
An old man kissed my hand outside a shop
He saw my pain and recognised my pluck

Whose foot?

Hello doctor,I’ve got that athlete’s foot in my mouth again
You must have a big mouth
But doctor,I need some ointment
I’d try rodent repellent if I were you
Look at my notes an
d see what you find
Ok, you have cystitis and now you have oral thrush
I hope it’s not alive
How could you breathe if a bird was in your mouth ?
Through my nose.I don’t think a bird would go up there
I’ll send you some gel, oral gel.
If I don’t use it all it might be useful
For what?
Doctor, please don’t say amything
But we’re on the phone!
You don’t have to talk though
Be off

What true self?

Is there only one person I can rightly become, lightly?
Was my true self,existing before the sperm was swallowed by the egg
or are there many paths and many selves, none true or afew
For truth itself is fuzzy ,I don’t mean fake or dizzy
But it lacks hard edges, persuading us we are in the world’s eye.
rather than a bag of bones, of possible paths to roam

If I had not had the accident, if he had not oicked my bike
If I’d opened my bank account at Barclays, or said what I liked
If I was not so silent or less hearty
If I had not seen you at the party,
If you eyes had been hard or less sharp

Did I mould myself around you, would that be false?
As if being intertwined were a trick to test how we are vulnerable
And if we became one,
What am I now, with you gone?

It doesn’t have to hurt

I get up in the morning after twenty cups of tea
I dress in some bright clothing that will make God worship me
I am getting so much older and I never learned to flirt
How did I have time to go to work ?


I spend a long time daydreaming,I love a reverie
Now I have no cat at all, my new plants all love me
I sit and write my poetry, it doesn’t have to hurt
How did I have time to go to work?

I’ve a prayer plant from the tropics,Brazilian so I read
I’m buying it some pebbles, it likes a waterbed
I’ve also got a Peace Lily, surveillance is covert
How did I have time to go to work?


Time they say is precious, as they run with manic verve
Like a tangent to a circle, they miss the holy curve
My ambition is for indolence, my ideas I will nurse
Why did I waste time and go to work?



Make your own milk pudding

Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com
cold glass breakfast milk

This pudding can be enriched by adding a beaten egg to the dry mix with the milk
then cookingas below

I’ve not tried it yet but did used to make a similar one with burnt sugar

2 oz cornflour
1 oz Cocoa [ or I oz cornflour and some vanilla essence/ almond etc]
2 oz sugar

I pint of milk

Mix the dry ingredients with a little milk till smooth
Heat the rest of the milk then pour the coca mixture in and stir constantly to prevent lumps

It should thicken and then you pour it into a dish.It will set like blancmange

If you do get lumps liquidise it before it thickens then carry on.A hand blender shaped like a wand can be used directly into the pan and you can get them quite cheaply.I seem to have three ! I can’t count or measure.I only do algebra to avoid numbers as much as possible

I know that being sad is no disgrace


The bell rang on the ancient church at noon.
A sparrow flitted to the Tudor wall.
Was this the knell which brings us damned gloom?

Perhaps there is no meaning here at all.
I read my unknown thoughts projected out,
And in my rage, desire the walls to fall.

Like you, I am too often stuck in doubt
Betrayed by old ideal and vanished wish.
So what is in confuses that without.

Oh,pain, oh ,mind, oh agony, oh flesh.
I shall not cling to life and wait for grace.
I am, myself, a fish in net of mesh.

Was this my destiny, my rightful place;
Alone besieged by sorrows on all sides?
I err for being sad is no disgrace.

So ,to my hopes, I’ll cling like drowning beast
Until my invitation to the feast.

Cliches for all

bbf78-6395086_ec46b81f11_m

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-squeaky-wheel/201306/the-seven-hidden-dangers-brooding-and-ruminating

It was the best of times, it was  the  worst of times in a very real sense.
Mary  dreamed Stan was in heaven enjoying the company of Wittgenstein,Jesus and Pascal , not to mention Lady Jane Grey Ann of Cleves,Juliet,Cleopatra and an angel.
At  least  at this point in time he can’t sleep with them  ,she thought as she woke up.Though did that matter? Can men be faithful and monogamous?
Look at Leonard Cohen.Was he better off flitting from flower to flower? Was he so stunning that women threw themselves at him and he could not resist?Sometimes people are actually afraid of intimacy or feel life is short and want some new experiences.Was he a wolf? It t akes one to know one
It was indeed  almost the worst of times when Mary remembered she had no food in the house except cat food for Emile.He was all she had now as  her daughter Lyra lived in Australia and Stan was in heaven, she hoped.
Here I am, she thought, pondering unanswerable questions and not looking after myself .It is probably  best to err on the side of buying food and going out rather than lying in the bed wondering  if life has any inherent  meaning. or  if we must create our own.
Even discussing that with someone else would be better.But men folk don’t want to discuss serious topics with their lovers.
It was an even worse time when she recalled a man who once  loved  her leaving her because she asked him if he knew what post-modernism was one night after going to the cinema to see a comedy.She realised then that she would have to play a part,To act like a woman.So far it was but moderately successful owing to her myopic view of life
If only I had kept quiet, she told herself,I could be  lying beside  him now enjoying a few kisses and hugs and asking him how to light  the electric fire.Still ,there’s many a slip twixt cup and lip
Now then, said a  loud voice.Stop   ruminating and get  up. One stitch in time saves nine.
Who are you to say that to me, she called nervously ?
She wondered of stress  had driven her round the bend.She had begun reading a book which said mental illness in not an illness like flu.
It is a reaction to bad events and  other life strains.
It doesn’t matter who I am,just do as I say, came the answer
Mary recognised the voice.It was her dad who had died when she was 9.
Dad, she called, why are you here now?
Because Jesus told us to  love our family, he revealed pleasantly.
Why now after all these years? she persisted.
I have missed you.
I always did have a bad sense of direction,he told her.But do as I say.You won’t recover easily if you never get up.Stan is here but he is busy cleaning the gold cutlery for an angel.
Alright, but I never knew there was cutlery up there, she murmured as she put on her  new clothes.She had bought some purple trousers and two new jumpers.One was pink and one  was teal.The trousers were exceptionally comfortable  being  in a last years’ sale  by a famous label..She  then found some Weetabix in  the cupboard and some long life milk.As she drank her tea she admired the acer’s brilliant red leaves.
Almost too bright, she thought.It’s  due  to the hot September.Plants are affected by their environment and so are we.Especially by bad or hot tempered men and women
Poor people may have  more than in the  past but they tend to live in the ugliest areas of the town with no gardens nor parks.
And seeing the better off walk by wearing expensive clothes it is surprising there are not even more muggings.
She recalled seeing  a man with a Rolex watch and gold earrings on  talking on his new iPhone as he wandered through the Mall.I suppose we think everybody else is like us; we don’t mix with  very poor or very rich people on the whole.Unless we are one of those two types.
Mary went outside and found a neighbour wheeling in her bins.
Thanks ,Tom, she cried.I wondered who it was.I am very grateful.What is post modernism,by the way?Nobody will tell me.
Emile was watching from the window sill.
I knew it was Tom, he mewed.
But you didn’t tell me,Mary replied.
You didn’t ask.
Tom wandered off ,while Mary admired the autumn trees lining the road.Tom turned  back and looked at her but she didn’t notice.
Time for coffee, she muttered and went inside again.She was embroidering a  table mat which said “Rumination is for the birds”.Where it had come from was a puzzle.But it may be a good thought

And so say all of us

Blythburgh thoughts

Blythburgh, Holy Trinity Church - History, Travel, and accommodation  information

Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
Not much contrast from the soft silk sky
No birds nor any brightness, light won’t play

The ones who act so manic are not gay
If there is no truth, there are no lies
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey

On our backs on Sutton Bank we lay
My acts outcry, my grief I shall defy
No birds nor any life. the light won’t play

Who is born a hunter.who the prey?
The lion has lost the unicorn nearby
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey

I think of brexit, oh the blush,shame
The spirits flatten;rise up,do not die
No birds nor any life, the light won’t play

I wonder what the loss is or the gain
I wish we were in Suffolk by the Bly
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
No birds, no life ,I’m languid, would you stay?

We live because we are breathed by sacredness

Before we go to bed we vegetate
No need for teacher but a compost heap.
And as we vegetate, we drift to sleep
While in our dreams our little mind debates

But mostly we’re unknowing in this dark
Where God himself may manifest at will.
His dazzling darkness makes our souls be still
And wait for strikes by living ,glowing sparks.

But in the morning ,we come back to strife
Take up our work and suffer every stroke.
From sapling to the oldest,strongest oak
Each must choose again its proper life


Every look we cast at others strikes
Reflects and shows us what we have become
And when there is no movement, we are done
Our mind and heart have chosen what they like


. So in our end we vegetate again
And no more rise to labour in the day
We fertilise the fields passed on our way
We show the end of woman and of man.


A daily round becomes our life and death.
We live because we’re breathed by sacredness

Confess again

img_20190510_163300
img_20190510_163300

May I confess my sins online,Father?
If you must.
Well, I don’t like Boris Johnson
Is that it?
Sorry to be so boring.
Everyone today is confessing the same thing
I just saw him!
Yes, he hates himself too
Is he a Catholic?
Well. Hitler was.
But was Johnson brought up as one?
Well, he knows how to confess sins
That’s no use unless he stops committing them
Right, he has no firm purpose of amendment.
He  compliments Trump for his racist outbursts
He may even complement Trump.
Stitch them together and there is still something missing
What?
Humanity, humaneness,caritas, agape,care,kindness
I  see you went to a good Seminary,Father.I used to like the Latin Mass
But not Latins en masse
I prefer them to the English
That is a sin.We must love equally
Can’t we hate equally instead?
I am  ambivalent about that
You’re a Paradox
Where do they  originate? 
Somewhere Unorthodox.
This is getting rude
No it’s not!
Don’t contradict me
That’s Latin!
It’s an order
Or a disorder?
Stop playing games
Who’re you? Wittgenstein?
He’s dead
What a shame
Actually would he  enjoy living in England now
No, because he was Jewish.
So are lots of people.
Somehow they get hurt  or even killed at times
What times?
Nazi.times
Stalin-times
Tsar-times

GoodFriday-times
Greedy-times
Allthe-time
In the Times
Of the times
Oh, time!
Well it’s about time we stopped it.
About time
On time
In time
After time
Time and Motion
Soon we’ll have the Flood
Why has Boris not built an Ark?
Because he doesn’t Noah how to
Because God didn’t see him
Because there was a  full stop at the end of the sentence.
Is that not normal?
Not on WhatsApp!
What is up?
What is down?
I don’t know, where’s the Eskimos snow


The eyes see what we fear or what we need

He thought I was an enemy , he said
The eyes see what we fear or what we need
I gave him love,but hate grew there instead

If you need to hate, try someone dead
Do not say cruel words that make us bleed
He thought I was an enemy , he said

Do not dwell where people hate the good
If they curse, it’s best to pay no heed
I gave him love,but hate welled up instead

Emotions mingle, wanton like fresh blood
Let them be till form can be perceived
He thought I was his enemy , he said


Do not confront the paranoid nor mad
The agony of their minds has them deceived
We give them love,but hate wells up instead

Never take such people into bed
Let them run away, they’ll be relieved.
He mistook me for an enemy , he said
I gave him love and care now I feel bad

Without a plate

Food is not a meal without a plate
The history of our race is one of rites
The dignity of setting, time and date

Single folk may eat meals from a tray
The gobbling of the burger’s out of sight
Food is not a meal without a plate

A prayer of blessing, heads bowed as we say
Then we eat, converse into the night
With dignity in meeting, time with space

The plates, a simple white, we dedicate
To the love of sharing and of light
Food is a fine meal upon a plate


From the high chair, toddlers aggravate
Let them be themselves, without dislike
Learn their dignity without disgrace


The Sunday roast, the laughter we incite
Forgivenesss and regret for our mistakes
Food is not a meal without a plate
The dignity of setting, time and date

Virtue ethics

Below is an extract

Virtue ethics is a broad term for theories that emphasize the role of character and virtue in moral philosophy rather than either doing one’s duty or acting in order to bring about good consequences. A virtue ethicist is likely to give you this kind of moral advice: “Act as a virtuous person would act in your situation.”

Most virtue ethics theories take their inspiration from Aristotle who declared that a virtuous person is someone who has ideal character traits. These traits derive from natural internal tendencies, but need to be nurtured; however, once established, they will become stable. For example,  a virtuous person is someone who is kind across many situations over a lifetime because that is her character and not because she wants to maximize utility or gain favors or simply do her duty. Unlike deontological and consequentialist theories, theories of virtue ethics do not aim primarily to identify universal principles that can be applied in any moral situation. And virtue ethics theories deal with wider questions—“How should I live?” and “What is the good life?” and “What are proper family and social values?”

Confusion is a pool but not a lake

With words. he pulled some in and pushed some out
He wanted love but still encountered doubts
Should he make commitments then feel trapped?
Should he disappear from lovers’ maps?


He joined an online dating site and smiled
His profile photo strong and slightly wild
He got ten ladies asking for a date
Did they want a lover or a mate?


He gazed upon their photos,felt confused
Did he want a wife or perhaps a muse?
He could not bring himself to use the phone
Spent the evening time at home alone

He fell into obsessive thought and dreams
A new friend may be party to a scheme
Could he trust his judgement or their truth
Soon he lost his temper, gnashed his teeth


Should he seek a therapist for aid?
Was his mind withdrawn or in decay?
Should he join a gym or grow a beard?
Was he what they wanted, what they feared?


In the end he thought his life away
He died in bed alone one autumn day
It does not matter deeply what we choose
But life is more important than these clues

What control

Photo by moein moradi on Pexels.com

Seems the seven plagues are coming back
Now we are in Lockdown for control
Of care for others, seems there was a lack
Oh, the seven plagues are riding back
We never saw the swift and silent rat
Where are those lost entities called “souls”?
I say, the deadly plagues are fast and wreck
The total Lockdown. who then will console?
Noone will admit they knew the facts
Killing any virus is a knack
Both high intelligence and smooth sweet tact
Suddenly I hear the thunder roll
What’s the good of weeping by a crack
Noone worships tears in sugar bowls