Tag: image

Mary wants a woollen vest

Dotty cats

Winter had almost come to Knittingham,yet owing to the late summer and wet autumn,many trees still had their leaves,,,,,,,,,,,some were even green.Stan and Mary were sitting in their mock Tudor cottage style kitchen eating muffins and honey.

Wow,it’s so cold,Mary remarked.Now,Mary I have told you before that Wow is not a word I expect to hear from such a highly educated person.Stan said wistfully

Bollocks,Mary answered in a tone not unlike the late Rose Nordloch,philosopher extraordinaire who was famed for her obscene talk.I am thinking of buying some woollen vests,she continued nastily.Good grief!

What is it, my darling Stan said nosily.Mary was looking at a catalogue of ladies clothing.

They are £39 each,she said wonderingly.If I get three it will be nearly £120 plus postage.

Can’t you just buy one and wear it all winter like the Tudors did,Stan demanded charmingly

I think it would get smelly,Mary answered benignly.We should get wool vests from the Government to save us from going to A and E with double pneumonia,she continued softly…Shall we mention it at the Labor Party meeting?

No,no,Stan cried,I want your lingerie to be a secret…
A woollen vest is hardly lingerie,she retorted…
Everything a lady wears under her dress is lingerie….bras,knickers,pantaloons,petticoats,vests,corsets,suspender belts…………………..But some lingerie is more sensual…Stan said wistfully,recalling the brown silk underwear Mary used to wear before feminism made most lingerie a No,No!
Anyway,Mary said,we are too old for sex….

but not too old to have a few fantasies,Stan thought… and woollen vests did not feature in his… he preferred lace and silk with a hint of perfume..

Emile came in and he too asked for a vest and some underpants… .. but suppose I wet them? he fretted as cats do

Well,you can’t have a nappy,Emile.Stan informed him courteously
I have no desire for such things,Emile mioawed angrily…where is my food?

Oh, yes… it’s in the fridge,said Stan.He took a large goldfish out of the fridge

Where did you get that from? Mary asked fearfully….Oh,that tom cat down the road knocked a fish tank over and he gave Emile one.

But they are pets!She shrieked…. ring 999.

Dave the bisexual paramedic strode in.

It’s Frank,the gold fish,said Mary.Is he dead?

He is not quite dead,Dave answered…get a bowl of rain water.He put Frank into the bowl and Frank began to swim…

Well, that’s a bloody miracle,Mary screamed…

Just call him Lazy Lazarus.Dave quipped…he was in suspended animation.. fish are very clever.Would you like me to clean out the kitchen or fetch in some coal for the scuttle?

Thanks but not today,Dave.We were just discussing vests.Do you wear one?

Oh,yes.he said, and I wear a short petticoat too.

Very wise,Mary informed him.Underwear keeps me warm.

And it makes me hot,thought Dave…. but he said nothing.He kept his sex life almost a secret.

Vests,thought Mary.

To buy or not to buy

That is my question

Stan is spying on his wife again

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    Mary was just running out of the front door when she realised she had not combed her hair.She looked around and found a small brush labelled,”For nubuck and suede shoes”.Peering into the old mirror she ran it though her gold and silver hair,powdered her nose with her Estee Lauder natural beige foundation in powder form and slapped some coral lipstick on with haste.. and accuracy.
    Right,that’s it,she thought.Enough to show willing.
    She met her old friend Maureen at the bus stop.
    Have you been seeing Joel again? Maureen asked naughtily.
    No,I’ll be damned if I see him again,Mary said shyly.He told me he was living alone in a large house up the hill,then I met him with his wife.Who was he trying to fool?
    Maybe he hoped you would not notice?
    Not notice what?
    Luckily the bus came down the road and stopped beside them.They jumped on and ran to the back. for a gab.
    Are you going shopping?Maureen asked.
    No,I am going to take some photos of the jazz band playing on the pavement by the bank… but I told Stan I was going to the pharmacy to buy some Vaseline….
    Why,does he not like you taking photos?
    Not when an old boyfriend of mine is in the band.
    Exactly how old is the boyfriend?
    About 69 I guess.
    Well he’s not that old!
    He is an ex I should have said.I knew him in primary school and used to ride his tricycle.He was my first love.We were only 5 years old.I think it was his red curls and the tricycle that attracted me… but we split up when we were 6.
    Surely Stan would not be jealous;it is 63 years ago,
    And to me it was like last year!Well. you know time does not exist in the Unconscious.
    How wonderful.
    Yes and no.Good memories can be there but also pain can seem as if it just happened even when it is from 50 years ago.
    Have you had a lot of men admiring you,dear?
    How would I know?There could be thousands if they were too shy to speak.
    You know what I mean!
    Not so many.. I had my second when we were 10.He had golden hair and long eye lashes and lots of games in boxes.He was very sweet but we were to young to be engaged so I decided to give men up and study mathematics instead as that has its own icy beauty…
    Wel,,nice meeting you.Have you dyed your hair;it’s got brown streaks.
    Oh,dear,Mary thought.Is it shoe polish? But who polishes suede shoes nowadays?
    Stan was following Mary on his Face Bike.He was watching her from behind the bike racks in front of the HSBC Bank…
    Mary had had many bikes in her life.. what would a fortune teller make of that,he asked himself.
    Still,she had no idea Stan was nearby as she wandered nonchalantly along the grey pavement in her Rosella dress and Gabor suede Mary Janes..
    Now then, where shall I go to take the photos,she thought…maybe I’ll sit outside this Coffee Shop and pretend to feel faint if anyone asks me to buy coffee…
    she opened her bag and took out her Kindle Paperwhite… she was reading,
    Creative Imagery and Healing… and also Cars and Peace by Leo Wholeshaw.. a futuristic novel set in North London.In the first chapter a grandmother has been beheaded in North London.
    That’s a bit far fetched,Mary had thought when she read it but in fact Wholeshaw had been right on the ball when he wrote his e book and self published it on Cramuzon for £3.89…I wonder if I’d like to write a novel Mary mused… just then she saw Stan on the other side of the road talking to a blonde bombshell dressed all in pink.
    I see,she thought.He didn’t know I’d be here as the pharmacy is half a mile away.
    who is watching whom?Well.the morals be lacking but my grammar is correct

 
 

The looking glass is truth

Note

I like the idea that we are healed when we see ourselves truthfully

I think it’s odd that we pay psychotherapists to tell us our defence mechanisms and self deceits,but we don’t like it when friends point them out,free,without charge.I find religious imagery is     useful to a poet as a metaphor

Poem

God’s Son was here on earth.

A  young girl gave Him birth.

His words remind us of our worth,

Give hope of heavenly mirth.

He brought the gifts of love-

To cure our bad eyesight.

But we don’t want to see,

To have the painfulness of light.

We love our flaws without knowing,

Even when the effects are growing.

We rage when someone points them out,

We’d rather stay in dark and doubt.

Than have our weakness showing

But when you seek advice

From someone kind and true,

They tell us that our hearts will be

Healed when we can bear to see

The mirror’s total view,

The looking glass is truth

It’s painfully acquired.

But, oddly ,when we face the glass,

A transformation comes to pass,

And our souls change from black to gold,

As Alchemists foretold

 

How I became an amateur poet and artist on the Internet.Part3.

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I love color very much.I am profoundly affected by it

One of my  nieces was at University doing English. Literature Thinking of my past life,I  suggested she do Creative Writing if it were possible.It was.She wrote short stories for her assessments.During bad winter weather she was unable to access her computer at  the University. and read her notes.When she did she got  writer’s block.I sent her some  ideas from my notebook and she manages to complete her assignment and got  a First.One of my notes was about seeing a woman whose husband left her.She was recovering and was out in the snow with a big dog on  a  lead pulling her forward!

…And one day I thought,maybe I can  writ too.So I started to try to write more frequently.As I have some health problems and disabilities I find it very satisfying to do creative work.And I am happy to get criticism because it helps me.Some of my early poems were good.Some were not.Here is a strange one I wrote in 2010

But first,thank you,Helen ,my niece,for  helping me to begin writing.And  thank you to the folk on my first blog who encouraged me so much. Thank you to my brother and sister and others for reading me  on Facebook,I take all the blame for the flaws in my writing! I k eep editing but it’s hard to know when to stop.

DIRAC’S CATS :NONSENSE VERSES

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I dreamed I rowed in a large pea green boat
Accompanied by seventeen cats.
And across the Great Lake,without a mistake
I saw mountains of gentleman’s hats.
I was making no waves in my effort to move,
The cats were discoursing on geometry.
I looked in the mirror fixed onto my boat,
The moon spoke  entrancing Theology.
“I wonder who’ll help me”I thought to myself,
When I saw an entire spectrum of men–
Dirac, Archimedes,Niels Bohr, with their theories.
I got my great inspiration just then.
I need seventeen physicists,that’s one for each cat,
All tied to my boat with a chain.
The force they exert will just compensate
For the magnetic attraction of rain.
Paul Dirac came up, and I looked into his eyes,
They were full of anxiety and pain.
“I am sorry I am unable do what you wish,
But my father never taught me to swim.”
“That is perfectly alright”,I politely replied,
“You can walk on the water instead”
So that’s how my boat and its cargo of cats
Were accompanied back to my bed.
When I awoke the next day,I was filled with dismay.
I saw that Paul Dirac was gone,
With the cats and the boat,of which I just wrote
And I was now completely alone.
I took a quick look,in my old physics book
And there was a photo of Dirac
I stared at his eyes,and I am not telling lies,
He threw me a very strange look.
I caught this strange look,it’s here in my book.
I am saving it for a special event.
When I gather more Data on Relative Quanta,
I’ll understand just what Dirac meant.

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The digital art came later.And even later my stories about Emile the cat and Stan his owner.You can see a few on my blog

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I’ll love you when I be

Who
‘Twas but a reptile passing by.
It flew across the deep blue sky
Why do reptiles fly so high?
I’ll love you till I die
“Twas but a cat under the moon.
Did you have a silver spoon?
Why can’t cats all waul in tune?
I’ll love you very soon
‘Twas but a wooden legged man,
Carrying a large brass saucepan.
Why can’t men do what women can?
I’ll love you better than.
Why are adverbs?
What are nouns?
why do circuses have clowns?
I’ll love you lying down.
Where do dreams go in the day?
What game can we adults play?
Can you or can you not say?
I’ll love you,in my way.
‘Twas but a verse that seemed so free.
It floated over my oak tree.
I have eyes but cannot see.
I’ll love you when I be

Too many miles

 

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Feeling the sadness in my heart
and in my arms a tender feeling
as if the flesh is calling out;
My breath’s coming in gasps and
my throat makes a murmur
as if trying to speak.

Sensitive skin on my inner arms yelps
and my heart aches like
I’ve run too many miles .
My legs feel strong
My mouth is dry and my back
needs an arm around it
for protection.
My eyes are wet with the moisture
that might have made saliva.

My cat died
And then my other cat died.
Whatever.

With my compliments

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The process of writing is clear
As mud that is mixed with black beer.
Just recollect some words
And write down what you learned….
With nonchalance,then, persevere.
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My old man was feeling so drear
>He dived into a barrel of beer.
He swam to the edge
And perched on a ledge..
He complained that there wasn’t a pier.

Outside the circle of your arms

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The hole sucks me in,
with its deep darkness
The Fall was never healed.
Can I resist the call of the killers?
Will they kill me with kindness or with hatred?
I try to hide but no place feels safe anymore
I negate my writing and hide my pens.
Pain degrades me.
Writing deleted returns in imagination
I can do little but I try
Black gravity is the monster in my soul…
Sway not the tree
On whose strong branch the leopard drapes himself
But let the moon speak in silver tongue
as the leaves rustle
I am invisible
except as a home for ants
Who steals my words.
I am no more than a punctuation mark or a short title
I am near the end of my sentence.
I’ll be hanged by some inverted commas
From the oak tree.. burning in the sun’s borrowed fires
I can’t see your face now.
Just shapes in grey fog
Like the doctor without feeling for my child.
A child,that was..
that would have been…
that has gone.
I am uncertain

outside the circle,

outside the circle.

the circle

the circle

of your arms

ST

Blind sight

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Blind sight scattered my wits
Like whitened bones
Across the deserts of my mind.

I descended into blackness.
Love shrank into the tame cat
By the fire,unacknowledged hate
Grew to fill the room.
I stared too much,
A full stop grew gigantic
Crowded out
All the words in the sentence
I saw nothing but this dot
Now a gigantic black hole
Into which I was dragged.
An energy coming from within my own head
Sucked me into the black hole.
That place was the wrong sort of dearkness.
Within that full stop,
Love Fundamental became invisible.
Disappered into the dark.
I dragged my eyes away
And saw the moon appear , so eerie,
It shone,grey silver.
If I had opened my eyees wider
I would not now lament
What I destroyed in the wormhole
Of the black dot that drew my eye
Into a tunnel of darkness
It blinded me to the light
Did not let me read the sentences
Beside the full stop.
An error of focus left hate
Unacknowledged,unmitigated unredeemed,
Kept from love or goodness
Afraid to spoil my love with hate,
The fear of hate became
That which spoiled all else else,
By freezing Love itself

The notes in the margins

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I’m finding Derrida de-structured
And Wittgenstein’s‘ mind makes me smile
Who would have conjectured
That one day I’d lecture
On thoughtfullness and all its trials?

I prefer Kierkegaard to Sartre
Who sometimes makes me feel  mere.
Who would have expected
That words would be texted
As men smoked cigarettes and drank beer?

Some people like reading Jane Austen
While others fight with Wittgenstein.
Who would have discarded
The notes in the margins?
So  strangely these words recombine.

Munch  had to paint people screaming,
his premonitions were strong
Who else would have expected
The human destruction
Europe brought to the world before long?

 

 

Munch was not only an artist
He was a philosopher too…
who else would have dreamed up
an image that screamed up;
a warning struck, out of the view.

 

 

Breathing

 

 

pixellated pink flowerI hold my heart gently;

your heart too.

Waiting for healing.

Slowly breathing in

the calmness of the trees.

And the cracks are gaps

through which grace can enter

as I open myself to the spirit

which passes all understanding.

A mini collection of writing

  • Genudirection

ImageGenuflection

 

  • I do not indulge in genuflection

  • As my knees are so far away I can’t detect ’em.

  • But bend yours if you desire

  • To show courtesy to the Higher…

  • The God does not come around to inspect ’em.

  • Tables and chairs have legs

  • They are stiff and held in with pegs.

  • Perhaps I am a chair?

  • Who will sit here?

  • Don’t crush me down I beg.

  • However chairs do not have any minds

  • As far as scientists can find.

  • And they do not have eyes

  • So they cannot be spies…

  • Yet we know chairs do have their behinds

 

 

  • Word origins

  • The origin of the word knee

  • Latin genu as in genuflect.. bend the knee before God usually but also as people curtsey when meeting a Monarch.  

  • Flex means to bend…deflect must mean bend away

Fire Tests

  • ignis aurum probat

  • I married an acrobat.

  • He jumped through a flame

  • Calling my name…

  • with a gold ring inside of his hat.

  • ignis aurum probat

  • Who is your advocate?

  • Send him some gold.

  • Fire burns out the mold!

  • I know because God told my cat.

  • Ignis Aurum Probat

  • Is a wonderful name for A Lat.

  • But Mrs Probat

  • I do not like that!

So I’m going for golden,howzat?

 

  • Et tu, Brute?

  • I now have a Romanian friend

  • He was on the bus at the back end

  • Cum va numiti?

  • Just call me Kitty.

  • Et art tu,Brute?I punned.

 

  • Sing early

  • Encantado de conocerle.

  • My bird is usually early.

  • So hasta la vista,

  • I think I have kissed her.

  • I get up at dawn but rarely!

  • I’ve had nothing to eat all today

  • I sought to sell my soul on E bay

  • Oh,no hay de que,

  • I leaving anyway.

  • Buenos tardes,we all need to pray.

  • My friend met a fan on a boat.

  • Alas,it wasn’t far from the port

  • So, hasta la vista,…

  • The faster he kissed her

  • The more she sang out,please emote.

  • You old goat

  • Kiss my throat

  • Like your coat

  • Sow an oat.

  • Die Zauberflote.

  • Pissed as a mote.

  • Encantado de conocerle….. pleased [enchanted?] to meet [know?] you.

  • Spanish is very like Latin,more so than Italian.Romanian is also like Latin but fret not,I don’t intend to write in it as yet

 

  • Mirror Faces

  • Shadows, on the whole, are an error

  • which predestine the soul to feel terror

  • So if by a mystery

  • Folk sniff your history

  • Avoid all light precast by a mirror.

  • Mirrors can throw out strange beams

  • which can only be deconstrued in your dreams.

  • Allow yourself time

  • To sleep and to rhyme,,,,,

  • Reflections and love are one theme

  • Rocking chairs give an illusion

  • Of resting on grandmother’s bosom

  • How warm and how kind

  • Is the light of her mind

  • I sometimes need such care and soothing.

 

Spiritual verses

  • Gravity
    Oh, cradle my soul in your light
  • As I am in darkness tonight.
  • Fill me with your love
  • On earth,not above.
  • Your touch is both gentle and bright.
  • Seeing and feeling are one.
  • As senses conjoin yet are none.
  • I know it is so
  • The darkness shall glow
  • You are both god and person.
  • It seems like the heavens are weeping
  • Rain and snow fall while we’re sleeping
  • The clouds are grey black
  • As Northward they trek.
  • As for records, are they all we are keeping?
  • We dwell in a body of flesh
  • With others we love to enmesh.
  • Let’s get up and dance now
  • Love shows us how…
  • We dance to the tunes that refresh
  • We humans need meaning to create
  • The meaningless can agitate.
  • But stories abound.
  • Pick the best you have fo found
  • Get in there and start to narrate
  • In nature time goes round and round
  • Life’s a spiral, the wise man has found.
  • Each time I pass you
  • I see you anew
  • Until gently we are laid in the ground.
  • The end is the beginning,they say.
  • So say what is important today.
  • For time flows like a stream;
  •  What is ,soon has been.
  • So we are foolish to encourage delay

I asked,why do you smoke when we kiss?

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My husband is so enigmatic

he makes  Mona Lisa  dramatic.

Except for the night

The bed set alight

And he screamed on a scale near chromatic.

 

I said, why do you smoke when we kiss?

Apart from that,love is pure bliss

He said,my heart is on fire,

The smoke ascapes via

My mouth. my nose,my desire

Poetry

 

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Poetry, I think, intensifies the reader’s experience. If it’s a humorous facet of the story, poetry makes it more exuberant. If it’s a sad facet, poetry can make it more poignant.

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/humorous.html#DhGxIoZ7uJkpjkLP.99

Since I began this blog

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Old wooden table looks like my furrowed brow

I have during the course of this blogging found some new and interesting authors but all the books are really hard.I am struggling to read them but at the same time I am very happy to have found them.

I may not post much for a bit as I want time to mull over these books and what I am learning.I find writing here has lead me to learn a lot and I hope it’s true for some of you readers… a whole new world has opened for me,,,I may not be blogging here but please look at the authors I’ve recommended if you have time to learn.

Write well and read with care and thought

A little knowledge cannot do us harm

And on that base with certainty we build

For learning has a wonder and a charm

As with new words our avid mind is filled

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Now poetry and songs can  give us voice

For others who with us share this dear earth.

To dwell in silence is of course a choice

Yet sharing is a means of giving birth.

 

The news is filled with death and with wrong deeds

Our hearts lurch as we read the frightful words

Our blood boils and our minds gain speed

From articles ill thought that do no good

 

Write well and read with care and thought

Lest you by evil also are o’erwrought

Summer magic

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I love you in the wintertime

And in the autumn too

I love you in spring colours

But in summer love’s most true

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I got infinity ‘side of my head.

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I was once a poor student
In desperate straits
Trying to keep myself warm
I was once a young lady
with eyes like blue pearls
Sighing for the love that was lorn.
But then my self changed s I was silence reborn.
I’ve got infinity inside my head
And the writing is on my own brain.

I’ll sing of tit willows
And flowers in spring
That dance among the tall corn.
How you were a stranger
but I knew your name.
And we danced to an ancient rhythm,.
Now I’m an old lady
With patience and heart.
I’m happy to see a new dawn.
I’ve got infinity inside my head.
And the writing gives infinity form.

Sing and be merry for soon sunshine returns
And birds begin building their nests.
Sing and be merry for as the world turns
Minds and hearts fill up with zest.

For I’ve got infinity inside my head
And I create songs with a rhythm.

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I’m the god of monster space

 

I love you and you love me!
Believer!
Where on earth should I be?
Whenever.
I blocked cookies all my life
If you want one,ask the wife.
I eat spam, and google then,
I begin all over again.
whatever.
I ban websites for a living
But my wife is very forgiving,
Men ever!
I eat splogs and gurgle blogs
Then I cut up all the logs.
Whenever.
I’ve been married fourteen times,
They divorce me for my rhymes,
Whatever.
I eat cookies if I can,
If I can’t I get them banned,
Forever!
I’m the God of Monster Space,
I’ll destroy this human race,
Moreover.
If you meet me you won’t know
‘Cos I look like old so and so,
Whoever.
But I am mad and I’ll get you
I eat up this human zoo;
Together.
Whenever.
Can’t forgive,erhhhh.

No comments please,

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So I see with widening view

Gently dancing in the sun
Wildflowers grow;
they bloom,
are gone.

With no thoughts,they have no cares;
Yet their lives are gentle prayers.
May I walk in such a way
That I am alive to this day.

So I see with widening view,
And joy and sorrows embrace too.
Then my time will come like yours...
And of us nothing shall endure.As to the earth our bodies go,
All are one;it shall be so
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There’s many a true word spoken to test.

Cats five

There’s many a true word spoken to test.
Was it ever true that mother knew best?
And is it wrong to begin a sentence with words such as “but”?
Or will you merely look like an ass with no foot
There’s many a slip between top and hip.
Is there time now for my daily quip?
But should you wish to start your sentence with “and”,
Make sure you study lines of the land
There’s many a lie that’s told in terror.
And many good actions are done in error.
Moreover,if you think that logic is essential for men
Never end a sentence with words such as “when.”
Rules are useless when gambling with crooks.
Never use words that are rude such as “fux.”
Thus if you are still with me at this rage of the game..
Fill out this form and set it aflame

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My scruples and other thoughts

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Pray Father,give me a Dressing.It is five Tweets since my last Depression
So what have you done now?
Well,as I’ve done nothing wrong today I am suffering from Pride.
You seem to think about yourself too much…maybe
How much is too much,Uncle?
Well,when we are happy and doing something we enjoy,we forget ourselves entirely.
and that is the best way to be.
But first we need some security.How can I get that.
You need a spam guard for your mind!At the moment you are on automatic which is the default setting of your brain to act like a reptile…
Thanks very much,Father,I never knew I was a reptile.Did they have scruples..
It was kill or be killed.Don’t you see the scruples are an attack on yourself?The reptile is attacking you… as you have frightening thoughts it’s annoyed.
So how do I rebutt these? thoughts
Say,Alright if I’m the most wicked man in the city,smite me and do your worst.I am not afraid any more..I have done my best and if it’s not good enough strike me dead now or forever give me peace,
And what will happen after that?
Well,we shall see.But you have to face this thing head on.Bring it to a head.Lance the boil.
So if God does smite me dead?
Well, do you really think you are so wicked because you stole a half penny from the charity box fifty years ago?
I see it’s a sort of pride… a theatrical display of guilt.
Yes, quite right.Anyway, if you survive your ordeal let me know and I’ll give it a try.
Why,don’t say you have scruples too?
Yes,I have scruples about giving advice to people.If they follow it and it’s no good… it worries me….
Why don’t we do or die together,Father?
I’ll give you a buzz.
Meanwhile am I absolved?
Yes, dear boy.Sometimes I wish I could be dissolved..
Why is that?
I’d like to lose myself.
Why not try reading a good book…I recommend Nicholas Freeling.
But I feel guilty reading.
Now look here,Father,God helps those who help themselves….give yourself a break…
A good novel, a cup of tea and a pussy on your knee,you’ll be transformed.
Thank you,my child.
Don’t mention it,Father.
Don’t mention what?
They never say.
It’s just a phrase or is it a phase?
It’s all Greek to me.
I know some very sweet Greeks or are they geeks?
Just one letter can make such a difference..
Write soon.

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