Mary’s virtual name Part 1

While Annie departed in her unsuitable violet velvet trenchcoat for a holiday in Cleethorpes,Mary took a look at her FaceBook page before cleaning the grate
You are a vile ,vicious person,Mary someone unknown from the Church of the Hard Left had written
Well,I suppose eventually we all get stung by wasps, she muttered silently.Another person wrote, you are too stupid to have been to Oxford
Maybe I should have gone to Cambridge, she pondered
Don’t they realise that if they attack me personally it shows they can’t answer my questions?
Why, there is a name for that…ad hominem?
I know , said Annie, giving Mary a traumatic shock as she made no noise entering.
It was too wet in Cleethorpes and there were no donkeys on the beach so I have come home.
Have you any spare food
You can eat with me,.I doubt if they let large people ride on the donkeys,Mary teased her
Well,I’m not as fat as you,Annie cried rudely unable to contain her rage silently
Even so,you may be too large for a donkey to carry you.Mary advised her ruefully
Well, they should get stronger donkeys,Annie said critically
How about an elephant,Mary joked in her cliched way
What are you doing on FB?
I have changed my surname to my Irish grandmother’s name
What is it?
McCracken
I’ve never heard of it.
Actually,it’s Scottish
Why?
She married a Scot,And I hoped those horrible people won’t know it
You could wash up or make the bed instead
I am tired of making beds and getting dressed
Indeed Mary did look odd in a long striped dress from Land’s End and some hobnailed boots
That dress is weird,Annie called.It’s like something from a Museum
Oh, do stop criticising me;I have seen noone so why worry?Who cares
But God can see you
Do you think God is concerned about me wearing an orange and purple dress?
I have no idea, but I don’t like orange unless it’s the sky at sunset
Oh,my.I didn’t know my clothing might make you feel ill.No wonder men don’t ask me out.
Do you want a man?
Well, they give a background to life;they come in handy like electric tin openers
Emile mewed loudly,I don’t like that.You should value men more
OK Emile,I shall try my best.I’ll have to go to the pub to meet some
Can I come too?
I don’t feel a talking tomcat is a suitable accessory for a lady
I won’t say a word, the poor animal replied.Am I now called McCracken too ?
No, it’s only my virtual name,Mary assured him sensitively
I am sure you could have got a better one, given more time,Annie said thoughtlessly
I just didn’t want to think anymore,Mary said with anger in her voice
I can understand that.There is too much thought and not enough feeling
in modern society.
And so feel all of us
I think

Another flaming war




My hands turned white and later they turned blue
Then they went bright red,my toes did too
How to get my gloves on, my hands swell
It rarely seems as hot as Satan’s hell

Woollen socks won’t fit inside my shoes
Especially when my toes are turning blue
Do not put that ice into my drink
I can smell a rat, what do you think?

Apparently I have a strange disease
That hits on my extremities which freeze
My nose is cold, my ears are stalactites
If I spelt that wrong,do not chastise

Life has variations which annoy
At least it’s not another flaming War

A white petal


Hailstones rush sideways,
striking the windows
with small fierce blows.
In the gaps between
two white butterflies zig zag
like motorized wild flowers;
One colour,two forms. I see now
two aspects of Nature:
hard,destructive,stern;
frail and delicate.
Both are coloured the same white.
Hard to tell sometimes which we are seeing
But we can all distinguish between a gentle touch
and a bitter blow.
As the day dips into night my heart falls too.
In these dreams I look for the lost
in the snowy steppes and the ice of my own heart.
A white petal falls.
Cherry trees bloom again

Russia in love.

The tiny colours knew

On the bank, the flowers so wild would grow
And butterflies like mobs of petals flew
Flittered ,fluttered like large flakes of snow

We walked up from the path, seen down below
The coloured petals shook, the sky was blue
On the bank, the flowers so wild will grow

Oh,love,my love, it seems so long ago
You held my hand and smiled it seemed so new
It made our bed as do large flakes of snow

I never saw such butterflies before
The foxgloves and the daisies shook in glee
On the bank, those flowers so wild will grow

The wonders of the world have pedigrees
But mystic hearts see light without degrees.
Again, again, the colours fall like dew
Flitter ,flutter like bright flakes of snow

Dignity

Dignity’s not valued,nor is thought
Courtesy replaced by free for all
Virtue is outdated, love is bought

Desires fulfilled too fast deter the poet
Mobs are crowds set free , then riots call
Dignity’s not valued,where is thought ?

Caught up in these traps,I cannot write
The loudness and contempt are nets that trawl
Virtue is outdated,love is bought

Where is love, where hate, why now untaught
While priests and bishops court their own downfall
Dignity’s not valued,nor is thought

In our new society, hate smiles
Grab the money. stocks like eggs shall fall
Virtue is negated,love is bought

By the door abandoned babies wail
Dogs’ eyes sad rebuke our fairy tales
Dignity’s not valued,nor is thought
Virtue is negated, man debates

oh,so smart

Please do not cry in A & E.We all get lonesome
If your phone is too mobile we will arrest it
We will copy your contacts so beware
It it’s too smart, we’ll stupify it
If it’s expensive, hide it as the doctor might be envious
Sorry,please do not die in A & E until in a cubicle.
Do come here if you are having a stroke.No, not of the dog
Ring 999 only if you are ill or a crime is being committed, or both
The police come quicker than the ambulance as their figures are too low.
Now the British are killing each other.Let them have a boat and hope they get to
a New Found Land.
We complain we can’t go to the theatre while people starve and sleep rough
Me,me,me,me……….

The dead cannot come back

Art by Katherine

When once we walked with love along our track
Now I wander round an unknown plain
For you are gone and never can come back

There is no excitement, all seems flat
Yet on the earth it seems I must remain
When once we walked with love along our track

The death of lovers gives a mighty smack
The heart bursts open, wounded with its shame
For you are lost and never will come back

I hear your voice but see my home is wrecked
Only God can heal the cripples maimed
Oh,once we walked with love along our track

I wonder who the judge is, who inspects
Who will win and who will take the blame
For you are lost and never will come back

Like the unweaned babe we howl in pain
We bite our lips till blood runs down and stains
When once we walked with joy along our track
Now you are dead and I still feel the lack

As good as a wink

About gravity, he was specific
His research was attacked by a critic
So he went off to Mars
And opened the bars
The folk living there were illicit

The world feels both deadly and grave
Just keep on working, be brave
Unless you make bombs
Which is evil and wrong
You can’t wash guilt off when you bathe

Meanwhile we must eat and drink
The vodka is under the sink
You are a drip
Don’t give us lip
A nod is as good as a wink

They were lowly

There was a young lady from Berwick
Whose boyfriends rotated on merit
Some flew up high
Far into the sky
Down here she was left with hysterics

There was a young doctor called Percy
Who very often felt thirsty
He had diabetes
As he eate too many sweeties
Or maybe it was based just on hearsay

In Kenya our soldiers roast beef
Was men who were captured and beat
They cooked them quite slowly
Like Christ they were holy
Their flesh was both godly and sweet

In Palestine once there was peace
And plenty of tourists to fleece
The Temple burned down
Jerusalem doomed
The vultures flew over like geese




From the world of kindness do not flee


Defend yourself with fences and high walls
Then cringe in fear from what you cannot see
Imagined there are monsters which appall

Pain has purpose, for attention calls
With more defence,less possibility
If we defend ourselves with iron walls

We may have windows but they are quite small
Closed or partly open,which to be?
Imagined are most monsters that appall

Our reflections flash in mirrored hall~
And on the ghastly surface of dark sea
That we can’t defend with any walls

Are we sinners, was there any Fall?
Can we give the stranger Charity?
Are we ourselves the monsters that appall?

From the world of kindness do not flee
Take more risks, though slighted you may be
Defend yourself with fences and high walls
Then you’ll get your Fuhrer, mobs ,Hell, Heil

Nuclear homes

Nuclear weapons do not make us strong
We destroy our habitat by force
But who can cure sick politics or tongues?

Can we bring in good by doing wrong?
Dresden grey with pity ash and fire
Nuclear weapons do not make us strong

Evil, hatred,envy, vices throng
Torture prisoners for your own desire
Then who indeed will cure the vicious tongues?

For their own prtection ,snakes have fangs
Hypnotise them with a ancient lyre
Nuclear weapons do not make us strong

Give your love a necklace of black bombs
The falcon turns again upon its gyre
Damn Jesus, take your politics ,your tongues

Humans have been here for far too long
Suicidal wishes start to stir
Nuclear bombs or food for loveless young?

Here the priests, the Bishop and the friar
Through the trenches bloody let them stagger
Nuclear weapons do not make us strong
Yet who can cure sick politics or tongues?

Christmas Snow

Too old for cold,I stand now against the hedge,
Watching the snowflakes in the glare of neon street lights.
Darkness has come early,and I think of country uplands and huddled sheep.
On Salisbury Plain,shepherds watched their flocks
Just as in Bethlehem two thousand years before,
And then,exactly when?
“Between the wars”,it stopped. Now we know there is no “Between the wars”.
And who decided
To cull the sheep and shepherds and the space for kindness ?
Now that same Plain still exists,but banned
And closed to human-kind,
For bombs ,not wombs
Nor for birth of lamb ,nor gypsy child ,nor Saviour
Where would He go today?

An imitation home


You can buy a yellow jumper in Marks and Sparks
A padded jacket but no cover for a heart
You get imitation leather,you get imitation wool
You can go out shopping till your head is full.

There’s a polyester nightdress,there ‘re plastic boots
Don’t wear a holster , the police might shoot
Getting into bed with your cute nylon sheets
Your lover is electric but very discreet

Imitation cashmere, imitation food
A roast beef dinner for one sounds lewd
Imitation chocolate,imitation fur
Imitation politics and uncombed hair

An imitation Royal,a funeral to share
Imitation music,imitation care
Don’t fall down if you’re out alone
An imitation human rings an imitation home

Damned brain!

We suffer the ill fortune of   a brain
A mind that gives attention to ourself
We think and think and then we think again

It makes us into islands,not the main
And does it coldly, cruelly by its stealth
We think and think and then we think again

How this hyperactive mind gives pain
Causes sadness and decline in health.
We curse misfortune, thinking and our brain

Surely we must tell ourselves quite plain
Monologues internal tend to bolt
We think and think and then we think again

How we love to suffer and find fault
How treacherously we hurl  ourselves to guilt
We suffer the misfortune of  a brain
We think and think unless our mind is tamed

Shells

In my soul, the nerves are very long
I feel your pain,my own and everyone’s
Why must artists suffer as they sing?

On the wall their watercolours hang
From disordered blotches patterns spring
In my mind, the thoughts are very long

Of our hearts, we need them to expand
To see and make our visions can’t be wrong
Why must artists suffer as they sing?

We use our minds, we use our eyes and hands
Critics’ cruelty gives us mighty stings
In my mind, the threads are very long

On the sea shore,treasure lies in sand
Gulls soar squawking over seaborn fronds
Why do artists stutter as they sing?

To this earth we shall not freeze or cling
By the sea edge, shells laugh in the wind
In our flesh, the nerves are fine yet strong
Artists suffer but they make their songs

Love made lace


Look,I am on earth, with love endeared
My birth was registered in copper plate
Mother,father,love made lace by fear

Mother smiles yet as I suck she tears
Who shall I become, what is my fate
Look,I am on earth, oh love so dear

Father should be strong, for he must steer
Yet soon he will be gone, for heaven late
Mother,father,love made lace by fear

After that our tiny boat would veer
Mother weeps and mourns,nowhere is safe
Look,I am on earth, was love too dear?

In the paper on the wall, elves sneer
Mother cries because I break a plate
Mother,father,love made lace by fear

Here is Jesus on his cross,side pierced
Where will he lie now, has he no grave?
Look,we are on earth,was love too dear?

By the bed, ghosts wander through his place
Mother sleeps a little,then she wakes
Look,I am on earth, their love endured
Mother,father, sad love weeps your tears


Trying to glimpse another through their veil.

I lingered in ambiguity like a bride
Who fears  disclosing that her face is fake
And while we’re on the subject, I take pride
In mixing water colours  from the lake

Ambiguous  in intentions we don’t know
We send out signals full of world slass news
If this rebounds  an artist might then show
Our vision centres  on our point of view

Seventeen types of clarity are mine
Fifteen from my  mind and two from pride
From this glass I make a view divine
Though Sunday someone said they thought I lied.

Ambiguously enchanted, given bail
We try to glimpse another through their veil

Ambiguous

https://www.dictionary.com/browse/ambiguous

ambiguous

adjective

open to or having several possible meanings or interpretations; equivocal:an ambiguous answer.Linguistics. (of an expression) exhibiting constructional homonymity; having two or more structural descriptions, as the sequence Flying planes can be dangerous.of doubtful or uncertain nature; difficult to comprehend, distinguish, or classify:a rock of ambiguous character.lacking clearness or definiteness; obscure; indistinct:an ambiguous shape; an 

What is abstract?






https://maverickphilosopher.typepad.com/maverick_philosopher/2016/04/senses-of-abstract.html

een ontic and epistemic uses of the word. 

Ontic Senses of ‘Abstract’

a. Non-spatio-temporal.  The prevalent sense of ‘abstract’ in the Anglosphere is:  not located in space or in time.  Candidates for abstract status in this sense: sets, numbers, propositions, unexemplified universals.  The set of prime numbers less than 10 is nowhere to be found in space for the simple reason that it is not in space.    If you say it is, then tell me where it is. The same holds for all sets as sets are understood in set theory.   (My chess set is not a set in this sense.)  Nor are sets in time, although this is less clear: one could argue that they, or rather some of them, are omnitemporal, that they exist at every time. That {1, 3, 5, 7, 9} should exist at some times but not others smacks of absurdity, but it doesn’t sound absurd to say that this set  exists at all times. 

This wrinkle notwithstanding, sets are among the candidates for abstract status in the (a) sense.

The same goes for numbers.  They are non-spatio-temporal.

If you understand a proposition to be the Fregean sense of a declarative sentence from which all indexical elements, including tenses of verbs, have been extruded, then propositions so understood are candidates for abstract status in sense (a).

Suppose perfect justice is a universal and suppose there is no God. Then perfect justice is an unexemplified universal.  If there are unexemplified universals, then they are abstract in the (a) sense.

This (a) criterion implies that God is an abstract object.  For God, as classically conceived, is not in space or in time, and this despite the divine omnipresence.  But surely there is a huge different between God who acts, even if, as impassible, he cannot be acted upon, and sets, numbers, propositions and the like that are incapable of either acting or being acted upon.  And so we are led to a second understanding of ‘abstract’ as that which is:

b. Causally inert.  Much of what is abstract in the (a) sense will be causally inert and thus abstract in the (b) sense.  And vice versa.  My cat can bite me, but the set having him as its sole member cannot bite me.  Nor can I bite this singleton or toss it across the room, as I can the cat.  Sets are abstract  in that they cannot act or be acted upon.  A less robust way of putting it:  Sets cannot be the terms of causal relations.  This formulation is neutral on the question whether causation involves agency in any sense. 

Statistics for the older person

    Stan fell asleep in front of the roaring fire.Emile lay across his lap.Emile was so limp he looked like a wet towel casually over the old man’s knees.It was Stan’s birthday but no party had been arranged.He was struck that Mary had not baked a cake..nor even bought one at the Co-op.
    That was no surprise really as he did all the cooking including Bakewell tarts and Xmas cake,He was a versatile man who could also mend old radios and fix clocks that were stuck one time….usually th wrong one!
    He also spent quite a lot of time giving statistics lessons to pensioners and kissinf his blonde  mistress,Anne who lived next door.
    He decided that being so near her was a big advantage, given his age.
    Suddenly he was awakened by chuckles and giggles,
    There were Mary and Anne holding a big iced cake and a pot of tea.The doorbell rang and in came all Stan’s friends from his Art class.Mary produced sandwiches and pork pies,sausage rolls and potato cakes.
    How did you do this ?,he enquired dazedly.ad
    We did it all in Anne’s oven.She has two so it was quite easy.
    Mary was not jealous of Anne for Mary would rather read Principia Mathematica than go to bed with Stan.
    Apparently she was mildly autistic but she was happy doing maths as many of her co-workers had the same syndrome.
    She did have one daughter whom she had found hidden in a gooseberry bush in the garden.This was enough for Stan as he was 92.
    But luckily he did have a good gold plated pension of £390.09 per month.
    Everyone was having a fabulous time until Anne tried to light the candles on the cake.No matches could be found.
    Ring 999, Stan called childishly.Mary obeyed and soon the ambulance drew up.
    In ran Dave the   trisexual paramedic.
    Is it your chair? he enquired wildly?
    No,it’s this cake.We can’t light the candles on it.Shall we douse it in petrol? We have a jerry can full of it in the spare room.
    That is very dangerous, he shouted.
    Well,we are old now and need the car badly.Risk assessment gave us evens on the odds.
    Dave produced a silver lighter and lit the candles.Then he conducted them all as they sang,
    ”Happy Birthday” to Stan.
    Stan managed to blow out 90 candles before passing out on the rug.
    Well,at least he didn’t break the chair,Mary said philosophically.
    I wish he had,said Dave. I’ve got some superglue here.
    Well,we do have a wardrobe that’s falling apart.would you like to mend it?
    Sure ,he replied gratefully.This is why we have the NHS!
    We are here for you 24/7
    Or come to A and E if you get a mouth ulcer or a cold sore.No problem is too small!
    Stan came to on the rug with Emile beside him.He gazed deeply into the cat’s green eyes.
    I think I’ve fallen in love with you,he informed Emile.
    Will you sleep with me and let Mary have your basket.?
    Are we engaged,said Emile?
    Definitely, said Stan.I’ll get you a golden collar with diamonds on it.
    When shall we be married?
    As soon as it’s legal,Stan answered honestly.
    In the meantime,we’ll have to live in sin.
    Then he fell asleep again with Emile in his arms.
    What a lovely picture, cried the ladies.
    Look at this.What a happy sight.
    What love,what devotion.
    How strange,what a commotion.
    They’re in love,what emotion.
    Don’t tell the Pope,we need caution.

    Illegitimate and born in desert grey.

    So you are gone  who once declared your love
    For that phantasm conjured in your mind
    For onto me you brought down from above
    A torment bitter and   some words unkind.

    Used to  friendship from within your books
    You did not understand that I was real
    Irritation grew as you did look;
    You threw your poisoned  arrows  at my heel.

    What once you loved then you began to hate
    If not perfect then intolerable I must be
    And then you cursed me with this  sorry fate
    Our child was born and him you’ll never see.

    Illegitimate and born in desert grey.
    I carried him alone from death’s dark way.

    Love will need no trick

    In my despair I felt that I was stuck
    Paralysed by  grief and guilt I failed
    By the end I had tried every trick

    From prayer unthought to deeps of logic black
    My  life, my engine ,juddered off the  rails
    I hated God and of “his” Church was  sick

    Starving  and alone I was in shock
    The death of one I loved   had made me frail
    By the end I had tried every trick


    I felt  love’s arms around me,  death to block
    I knew   this goodness,  why else would I wail?
    I   thought I hated God  but Love had struck

    Warm and golden light  that  did me hold
    Where are you now when refugees  die cold?
    Kind despair  that  made me long time sit
    By the end I knew  Love needs no trick

    The lost too

    I can’t love you
    without loving the whole world too.
    I can’t open my heart
    unless everyone can be part

    Wait for me
    I’m not afraid.
    Wait for me.
    I may be delayed.

    I see you in my mind
    Smiling, sad and kind.
    I can’t love you
    Unless I love the lost too.

    Give me your hands
    Outstretched across the  strands
    We’re all one.
    Love has begun