When true love’s gone and doom hangs over head When life runs like a river to the sea Then shall I take new lovers to my bed? And with their carnal touch consoled be? When my love lies,so breaks my tender heart. When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path. Then, shall I my life of evil start? And on the world shall I bestow my wrath? When true love lies and wrecks all loyalty. When puzzlement makes all my world seem mad. Then I shall upend causality And let myself do deeds which make me glad. For I have love’s sweet child inside my soul And I shall tend her till at last she’s whol
A day can take to flight as does the Spring
A day as warm and bright as in the Spring
The pine cones shiver in the gentle breeze.
The trees in bud, the birds revel in song .
Our memories cannot store the very thing
The air on skin, the feel of blossom trees
A day as dear with light as is the Spring
On days like this, once more we do belong
And nature will respond to make us pleased
The trees in bud, caressed with new bird song.
The sounds of earth are silenced when phones ring
Our flesh has turned to ashes long deceased
A day can take to flight as does the Spring
We are betrothed, the bridegroom’s in the wings
The new act starts, the play’s by conmen seized
No consummation now, but for the winged
I wish that I had written more to please.
And yet the air is fresh and we still breath
A day of charm may revolution bring
The trees still bud, yet birds rebel in song.
Sunshine’s not available on demand
The trees are waving, frantically stirred
By breezes rare in August in this land
The trees imply they’ve got news re the Word
The rain swirls on the window till it’s blurred
Makes all the flowers outside look very bland
The trees are waving, frantically stirred
I feel sorry for my garden birds
Sunshine’s unavailable on demand
The trees imply they’ve got news re the Word
Should I attract the high trees with regard?
But I am not a god nor demon banned
The trees are waving, frantically stirred
How can these trees say what they have heard?
Their ancestors were used to make boats sound
The trees imply they’ve got news re the Word
Should we have sea breezes on demand?
Should we control the Universal Hand?
The trees are waving, frantically stirred
The trees gloat now; they’ve got news re the Word
The strange visitor

Stan was reading the paper at 9 pm when,to his surprise,the front door bell rang.Emile, his delightful tomcat who was asleep, nearly jumped out of his warm furry skin.Stan opened the front door cautiously.
“Goodnight,sir.” remarked the handsome man standing there.
“Goodnight?”Said Stan confusedly,”Bur I’ve never seen you before.Are you the sandman who comes to put children to sleep?”
“Good evening,sir.” the man continued,”I’m so sorry my English is so poor.I am , still studying David McChrystal’s Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language and I’m still a trifle mystified.”
“What do you want?”Stan asked him.”What do I want?I want to study philosophy,write a novel and meet a stunningly attractive young lady with brown eyes and dark hair.”
“No,no.” said Stan”I mean,why are you here?”
“A good question,why are we here?Do we have a mission in life or are we here as a result of mere chance and happenstance or even serendipity?”
“I mean,why are you here ringing my doorbell at this time of the night?”
“Shouldn’t that be evening,sir?” The stranger enquired sardonically yet politely.
“Look.are you after something?”
“Well,I’m after a young lady at college though so far I’ve not managed to meet her one to one.”
“Well,faint heart never won fair lady!”Stan advised him.
“What’s happening,”called Mary from her study where she was reading a critique of Principia Mathematica for the seventh time.
“God only knows!” said Stan.
Mary came to the front door.She wore a green silk blouse with a jade necklace, a pair of smart jeans from Per Una and some pink trainers with yellow laces.On her face she wore Lancome of Paris light beige foundation,strawberry pink lipstick and purple mascara from Clinique.Her perfume was by Beyonce.Buy all this with one click on the link below.
“Goodnight,madam” said the stranger.
“I think that’s so rude,” said Mary.”If you’ve never met someone before it’s inappropriate to say goodnight.”
“Well,you aren’t in bed,” he replied laboriously.
“What the hell has that got to do with it?”
“Inappropriate is often used to refer to sexual behaviour.”
“Well,for crying out loud,who are you?” she whispered politely.
“I’m the new curate!”
“I’m Polish.”
“Well,I’m sorry I don’t know a single word of it.would you like to speak in Latin?”
“Ite,missa est!”The curate exclaimed.”Uno reductio ad absurdum”Stan muttered.
“That’s Italian,UNO” cried Mary.
“Well,it’s pretty similar.”
“Well,I must go,”said the curate amxiously.
“You’ve not been yet so how can you go?”
“I don’t know,sir.Good evening,good afternoon,good morning.”the red face man screamed as he ran hurriedly down the garden path.
“Are we Catholics now?”Mary asked Stan.
“Oh,I can’t remember,” he said.”Do we go to church?”
“Well,we may be non-practising,I suppose.”
“Perhaps we’d better start practising,” he murmured affectionately.
“Oh,if you insist,” she replied in an unwifely roguish tone.
“That’s right,blame it all on the man.In my experience it’s you who is keener than me.”
“What are you talking about?”she enquired seductively.
Suddenly the door bell rang.It was the curate.”Goodnight” he called.”goodnight”
“Goodnight,” they responded in their reserved English fashion.
“Mioaw” cried Emile,”Mioaw,miaow,miaow.
Furry tails
May the blessed plan win
May the best plan win
May the best man begin?
Say the blessed word again.
May Emile marry Stan?
May Anne find a man?
As for Mary, she’s scary,
My stories are furry tails
The NHS gives cake to revolutionaries.
May that bod help you.
There are often a few words spoken before the rest
Why is language linear?
Will someone one day invent a nonlinear language?
Oh,I say.
Not today.
Theresa May
Can topology make doughnuts free?
Who are we anyway?
I
Cordon Blue
My cooking is now Cordon Blue
I really have very few clues
I make cheese sauce tasty
Putting in this puff pastry
Oh, my cooking is very bad for Hugh
Cordon Blue is a British Invention
For Cordon Bleu creates such terrible tension
We leave out the garlic
The food tastes like plastic
Cordon Brexit, Cordon Eclectic Cordon Wrecked it
So I am building a very deep moat

He wants me to write him a sonnet
But I put my foot down upon it
So now it is flat
What limerick liked that?
So then he flew off like a comet
My mother hates the villanelle I wrote
I ought to think more about coats
For she wants me to catch
A rich man for a match
So I am building a very deep moat
Fantasy/Phantasy
Mistaken identity

I was talking to this former colleague an’ she said t o me,
Of course I don’t come from a well off middle-class background like you do
So I said, since when has lived as a family of 7 in a miner’s cottage with a bath in the kitchen been middle class?
So she said, I just thought you went to a very good shool.
I said, I went to the local Catholic school where nobody had ever done A level Maths and Further Maths before and of the 8 of us only 2 passed.
Then I realised for many years she saw me quite differently from how I am
That made me think how much we invent other people in our Phantasy.Like an envious woman who saw me as skinny when I weighed 12 stone because I was almost emaciated when I first met her. I suppose we could even attack someone or indeed kill them all based on unreal notions in our head.Like Othello
That’s why I hate arguing until I know what basis we are starting from
Observe the patterns ,hidden and unread
It doesn’t matter what the teachers said
They don’t know as much as we might think
We can learn to deal with x,y,z.
These letters , used as numbers, are not dead
But in the mind’s eye, glow like golden ink
It doesn’t matter what the teacher said
I learned that once when I was ill in bed
I saw a screen with letters which were linked
We can learn to deal with x,y,z.
The letters moved to stand in two lines wed
Then ratios formed and thus caused me to think
It doesn’t matter what the teacher said
I saw the answer glitter as I read
Pascal solved it once, and then I did
We can learn to deal with x,y,z.
Observe the patterns , hidden and unread;
Like music which has scores and does their bid
It doesn’t matter what the teacher said
We can learn to deal with x,y,z.
The golden ratio for designers
http://www.creativebloq.com/design/designers-guide-golden-ratio-12121546
Leonardo da Vinci, like many other artists throughout the ages, made extensive use of the Golden Ratio to create pleasing compositions.
In The Last Supper, the figures are arranged in the lower two thirds (the larger of the two parts of the Golden Ratio), and the position of Jesus is perfectly plotted by arranging golden rectangles across the canvas.”
“Golden Ratio in use
It’s believed that the Golden Ratio has been in use for at least 4,000 years in human art and design. However, it may be even longer than that – some people argue that the Ancient Egyptians used the principle to build the pyramids.
In more contemporary times, the Golden Ratio can be observed in music, art, and design all around you. By applying a similar working methodology you can bring the same design sensibilities to your own work. Let’s take a look at a couple of examples to inspire you.
Greek architecture
Ancient Greek architecture used the Golden Ratio to determine pleasing dimensional relationships between the width of a building and its height, the size of the portico and even the position of the columns supporting the structure.
The final result is a building that feels entirely in proportion. The neo-classical architecture movement reused these principles too.”
The golden section
http://www.maths.surrey.ac.uk/hosted-sites/R.Knott/Fibonacci/fibnat2.html
“2.1 Why is the Golden section the “best” number?
“The links in this section are to Quicktime animations. They are worth viewing as they show the dynamics of what might happen if seeds were not placed with a phi-angle between them.
Why not 0·6 of a turn per seed or 0·5 or 0·48 or 1·6 or some other number?
First we can agree that turning 0·6 of a turn is exactly the same as turning 1·6 turns or 2·6 turns or even 12·6 turns because the position of the point looks the same. So we can ignore the whole number part of a turn and only examine the fractional part.
Also, since a 0·6 of a turn in one direction is the same as 0·4 of a turn in the other, we could limit our investigation to turns which are less than 0·5 too. However sometimes it will be easier to talk of fractions of a turn which are bigger than 0·5 or even that are bigger than 1, but the only important part of the number is the fractional part.
So, in terms of seeds – which develop into fruit – what is a fruit-ful numbers? Which has the best properties as a turning angle for our meristem? It turns out that numbers which are simple fractions are not good choices, as we…..”
The Fibonacci series
A letter from the Guardian

• Thank you, Malcom Myles-Hook (Letters, 4 August). You’ve given me another anti-insomnia tactic (besides counting backwards in sevens and listing fruit and veg alphabetically). I can calculate the Fibonacci sequence and the miles/kilometres conversion. Works a treat
Not me

Roaming through wild poppy fields
In the land which dreams dwell in,
where love and hate and life begin;
where swiftly the deep rivers flow
from lost lands of long ago.
I wander through wild poppy fields
Underfoot the sweet earth yields….
I see the flowering fruit trees start.
Their blossoms gather round my heart…
I hear the sparrows sing with joy
And bees their busy wings employ.
In those lost lands I saw your face
And now I long for your embrace.
Are you real or make believe?
From this earth, we all take leave.
Earth to earth and ash to ash
Glory, pride and boasting pass.
Leave me now, my ghostly one
Soon I too will be called on.
Nothing lasts but truth is real
Keep the faith and your ideals.
Earth to earth , we’ll rest in clay
We must give ourselves away
Softly on this earth I roam
Seeking yet my love and my home
and until the very end
Love eternal may descend
Trouble?

When in doubt.say nowt
How to do nothing

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/jan/09/five-reasons-we-should-all-learn-to-do-nothing
4. The brain depends on downtime
Ever since the industrial revolution, we’ve treated humans like machines, assuming that the way to get more done is to push ourselves, or others, to keep going for longer. But neuroscientists are increasingly finding that our brains depend on downtime – not just for recharging batteries, but to process that data we’re deluged with, to consolidate memory and reinforce learning, by strengthening the neural pathways that make such feats possible. In one 2009 study, brain imaging suggested that people faced with a strange task – controlling a computer joystick that didn’t obey the usual rules – were actively coming to grips with learning this new skill during seemingly passive rest periods.
To hate is linked to fear we can’t endure
To hate is linked to overwhelming fear
We fear intrusion and the sharing too.
Fear of closeness creates a black veneer
Those we love ,we might too well admire
That throws us into envy and the blues
To hate is linked to overwhelming fear
We wish to be the better and aspire
To win the prize, to wield no more the plough
Fear of closeness creates a false veneer
Yet were we more at ease and more secure
We’d have kind interest in how our rivals do
To hate is linked to overwhelming fear
The end of envy, malice so desired
Brings all down, destroys the world anew
Fear of closeness creates a false veneer
Hate is sad unless we’ve love in view
A rhythm of real connection should be glue
To hate is linked to fear we can’t endure
Our poor heart hides beneath a thick veneer
Amazed

Take your lessons from a leaf.
Sympathy is sometimes good,
Especially if you are not made of wood.
Empathy can be superior
If to metal, your brain’s nearer.
Do you want to be fulfilled?
Don’t get ground by coffee mills.
Would you like to be superior?
Do not venture to your interior.
Journeys often end in struggle.
As they make the mind more muddled.
Archaic words can be a joy,
But sometimes archaisms annoy.
Do you like tea from Ceylon?
Alas my own supply’s all gone.
Do you want to study grief?
Take your lessons from a leaf.
After short weeks on a tree
To be cast off is destiny.
Into earth, the leaves return
To become food for journeying worms.
So it will be for us all,
Regarding not our status tall
The creativity of Sylvia Plath
Too many photons at the Opera.

Too many ions in the fire
Too many hooks in the broth
Too many photons at the Opera.
Too many raves on the shore.
Too many lies in the pyre.
Are you positron, doctor?
The nuclei try my eye
The first drawing class
Paralysed by dread, my hand was still
Afraid to make a mark on a blank page.
I thought to make it move by force of will
I measured with my finger joints, [new skill]
Then with my charcoal,l I became engaged
Tormented by sheer dread, my hand moved still
With charcoal, pencil, fountain pen or quill
Human down the ages have portrayed
I tried to make it move by my own will
My body sweated like a waterfall well full
My eyes gazed and my mind became engaged
Touched by dread, my hand moved like a bull.
I’d measured, so I let it rush about unlulled
My eyes were pleased with this dramatic page
I’m glad I made it move by choosing will
And so I am at one with every age
Promiscuous is my love but well arranged
Paralysed by dread, my hand was still
Until desire was stronger than my will
Eyes and hearts
|
If our eyes refuse to accept the burden of the world’s ills, then our hearts will bear the dreadful grief, despite the inevitability of them shattering. |
Gold and brown

Genesis by Geoffrey Hill

Against the burly air I strode,
Where the tight ocean heaves its load,
Crying the miracles of God.
And first I brought the sea to bear
Upon the dead weight of the land;
And the waves flourished at my prayer,
The rivers spawned their sand.
And where the streams were salt and full,
The tough pig-headed salmon strove,
Curbing the ebb and the tide’s pull
To reach the steady hills above.
II
The second day I stood and saw
The osprey plunge with triggered claw,
Feathering blood along the shore,
To lay the living sinew bare.
III
And I renounced, on the fourth day,
This fierce and unregenerate clay,
Building as a huge myth for man
The watery Leviathan,
And made the glove-winged albatross
Scour the ashes of the sea
Where Capricorn and Zero cross,
A brooding immortality—
Such as the charméd phoenix has
In the unwithering tree.
IV
The phoenix burns as cold as frost;
And, like a legendary ghost
The phantom-bird goes wild and lost,
Upon pointless ocean tossed.
So, the fifth day, I turned again
To flesh and blood and the blood’s pain.
V
On the sixth day, as I rode
In haste about the works of God,
With spurs I plucked the horse’s blood.
By blood we live, the hot, the cold
To ravage and redeem the world:
There is no bloodless myth will hold.
And by Christ’s blood are men made free
Though in close shrouds their bodies lie
Under the rough pelt of the sea;
Though Earth has rolled beneath her weight
The bones that cannot bear the light.
An interview with J G Ballard
Lack of trust in countries with high levels of unequality
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https://www.equalitytrust.org.uk/trust-participation-attitudes-and-happiness
Personality and Attitudes
Income inequality affects people’s personalities and how they perceive themselves and others.
Key findings from the research include:
- People in less equal countries are less likely to believe that most people can be trusted, have less interest in politics, less confidence in their parliament, are more likely to believe that there needs to be more respect for authority, more likely to think that children should be obedient and less likely to believe that children should be independent9.
- People in countries with high levels of inequality are more likely to believe that those at the top of their society are competent and those at the bottom are not but have warmer attitudes to those at the bottom than the top. More unequal societies are also more likely to believe that competition between groups leads to competent outcomes10.
- Research has suggested that people in less equal societies have different personalities. A study found that people in less equal US states were on average less agreeable and less likely to be empathetic, trust people, cooperate or be altruistic11.
Ken Dodd himself
Black Mass
The poor live in tall heaps called tower blocks
Wrapped in tin foil, roasted into dust
See the wild, the wolf, the crow the fox
And for their language or their colour they are mocked.
The government will house them if they must
The poor live in tall heaps called tower blocks
,Man is crueller as he kills for kicks
Slays the gentle hind, her young nonplussed
Colder than the wolf, the crow the fox
An incandescent candle, Grenfell rocked
Gave free light and heat in its great lust
The poor live in tall heaps called tower blocks
Into a cruel cycle, they are locked
For hell itself gives them a roaring test
Crueller than the tiger, crow or fox
Excitement like the Roman Games at last
The Greatness of Great Britain has been lost
The poor live in tall heaps called tower blocks
Then they leave their dust, their teeth ;Mass Black



