Eclectic in limericks

Flowers in mall 2Eclectic’s a very fine word

I love it and even feel care.

It might rhyme with dialectic

Or maybe forensic

So here are two more we must air. .

coloured tree and sshadow

Eclectical students are rare

Because the tutors are rude and  unfair

They say, concentrate!

And I hesitate

Because my interests are wider than theirs.

Tree ghost

If you just want to get your degree

Then focus on what tutors agree.

But   leaving out   other  topics

Can make one myopic

And most of the world we won’t see.


 4360429_f260 4360438_f260

When wanderings take my restless mind

To places peace can never find,

When imaginations linked to fear

Push tranquillity away.

To my green garden I must go

And let my mind and thoughts go slow.

I look up at maples in the breeze,

See sunlight dappled through their leaves.

I see the apples hanging down

And blackbirds peck them on the ground.

I see the hawthorn berries ripe

Upon the hedge in gold sunlight.

And then my soulf is brought to earth

Peacefulness is given birth

I feel at one with nature green,

And all that is just now unseen

So back to everyday routines

Without “what for?” and “might have beens”

All is well and shall be so

Wherever we may chance to go.

Bionic therapy with Annie and Emile



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Peter Fried,the Bionic psychoanalyst  ,who had recently arrived in the fine  midland town of Knittingham, had noticed that whilst he was practising “free floating attention” with his patients an image of a cat peering in the window behind the couch was troubling him.He hoped it was not some hallucination transferred from the Unconscious of one of his patients into his consciousness.

Still,having a black cat looking in the window was by no means the most unpleasant optical illusion he had ever suffered.In a way,it was quite sweet.
He was back in his “home” flat boiling some eggs for his supper when the doorbell rang.He opened it cautiously with a sort of excitement. mixed in.There stood a strikingly attractive woman wearing a purple coat and a red hat with matching red ballet flats and a bright green designer handbag from TKMaxx.[£29.99 and well worth it]
Hello,I thought I’d introduce myself,I live across the street next door to Stan and name is Anne..How are you settling in?
She walked confidently through his flat and into the new  dark teak kitchen with its gleaming work surfaces and marble pastry rolling strip…. though Peter never made pastry himself.
Eggs!Are you a curry lover?By pure chance and serendipity I have a tin of vindaloo sauce here.I could pour it over these eggs.

Should we not remove the shells first?Peter asked with a just hint of humour.
Definitely,leave it to me.I’ve brought some naan bread and some brown rice too
How did you know I was boiling six eggs?Why Emile told me,of course!

Emile….is he black?
Some people call him black,others say he’s mixed race.
Let’s not argue about semantics or political correctness,he replied discourteously.
I don’t even know what semantics, are she screeched softly into his left ear.
Well,that is no barrier to arguing about them,he replied diplomatically.
Well,it’s senseless, she answered kindly.”I am not a person who enjoys an argument.Go and sit down,read the paper and I’ll finish preparing the curry dinner.

Is it common around here to have an unknown woman come in to cook your dinner?Peter asked Anne.
No,it’s the height of sophistication,she said judiciously.It’s just with you being new I wanted to meet you to see if you need any assistance in your work.I don’t need money,I like to serve the community in some way.Of course I am Stan’s mistress but as he’s in a bad temper today I’ve not seen him.I suspect he is growing tired of me.

Are you married,Peter asked her.
No,but I was once.My husband ran off with his brother’s wife,so we decided to pretend they were both dead.
That’s intriguing,said Peter,I am married but my wife developed an allergy to my skin.She could not bear to touch it so it became awkward… very awkward.
Fancy, and you a therapist too,she murmured softly,So where is she now?
Oh, she lives on the Isle of Man,near Peel.I do go to see her now and then… and there are lovely sunsets over there… you can see the Mountains of Mourne.
Are you lonely, she asked him very emotionally.

No,I see seven patients a day..
But that’s not the same as having a wife or a friend.
Since my wife’s allergy,I am afraid to touch another woman.
How sad,cried Anne…I have very thick skin.Would you like to touch me? she said seductively

Perhaps another time,Peter said in a kindly way,But thanks for being so generous.I am touched by your amiability and femininity and your kindness in introducing yourself.
Let’s eat the curry before we die of hunger.
They sat down at the kitchen table to eat the egg curry when they saw some amber eyes gleaming at the window.

Oh, dear,There’s Emile again.
Will he tell Stan?
Probably,but actually Stan no longer wants me.Yet Emile adores me.He will be jealous… he’s a cat,but he has the feeling of a man.
And indeed Emile’s eyes were gleaming like those of a tiger… he began to speak through the window glass.
Would you mind if I had some curry? Stan never makes it… I love spices
Why not? said Peter.
Emil’s plan was to get near Anne but first he had to eat the vindaloo egg curry.He took a,it was hot.His eyes began to water and his nose ran…. all round the room.He mioawed piteously
I need a hanky.
We shall have to ring 999,muttered Anne.
What! Do they tend to cats?
They usually have some hankies for cats….
So without any further ado,she took out her Samsung mobile phone and rang.
I don’t know how I shall get on living here,thought Peter.
He ran across the room and jumped into the washing machine with the tea towels and kitchen cloths.
Will he escape?
Buy the next chapter…only three shilling and sixpence or free with the Daily Wail tomorrow…order now for next life delivery!


Don’t delete your bad photos

  • insect bite_n
    Bite on my leg

    When I say bad I mean when your hand shook or the photo is blurred.
    I say this because I have found such photos can be very good for using digital art software on… sometimes far better than your top photos… something about the nature of the image is good.. blurring contains some different shades of colour.
    And photographing things that may seem odd like an insect bite on your leg can give a good basis for new images.Of course,when we think we can see the blood running out has a shape similar to a river estuary;because of the way fluids run.The fact that a leg is much smaller than a country and the bite is much smaller than the sea… it doesn’t matter.. you can get very interesting shapes.

    Bite on my leg
    My own hand

    I am no authority on art of any kind but these are ideas from ways I have found images which please me

A striped cat

I saw a shadow on my wall
Cast by the setting sun
I turned around to see a face
That made me feel dead glum.

“Twas but a man in a very large box
He seemed in a foul mood.
He’d lost his head while logging on
But now it’s been re-glued!

He likes windows and doors as well
He likes his Vista wide.
But Windows Eight is just alright
As his little cat has spied#

She looks in one,she looks in two
She looks in seven and eight
She sees nothing but smoke and flames
Oh,what a nasty fright!

Ronald comes out and sniffs the air
For he is feeling bright.
He’s fixed all his new purchases
He’s set his world to rights.

He nibbles hot jam tarts and beets
He drinks his brandy neat
He daydreams as he sits and smiles
with the striped cat by his feet.


How writing poetry was compared to Perseus killing the Medusa Gorgon



When thy song is shield and mirror

To the fair snake-curlèd Pain,

Where thou dar’st affront her terror

That on her thou may’st attain Perséan conquest

Francis Thompson wrote those lines.. se below

I am interested in these lines from the poem below…. When thy song is shield and mirror To the fair snake-curlèd Pain, Where thou dar’st affront her terror That on her thou may’st attain Perséan conquest; I think the meaning is that by expressing what is in us creatively in poetry or other forms we can overcome what we are afraid of not by attacking and killing it but indirectly in the manner of Perseus who killed the Medusa Gorgon by locating her and seeing her reflected in the mirror of his shield.Others had been turned to stone by her gaze. Expression is the mirror/shield Read about Perseus below This is where I got the poem……… a good website re which I say go visit. Nicholson & Lee, eds. The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. 1917. 240. From ‘The Mistress of Vision’ By Francis Thompson (1859–1907) WHERE is the land of Luthany, Where is the tract of Elenore? I am bound therefor. ‘Pierce thy heart to find the key; With thee take 5 Only what none else would keep; Learn to dream when thou dost wake, Learn to wake when thou dost sleep. Learn to water joy with tears, Learn from fears to vanquish fears; 10 To hope, for thou dar’st not despair, Exult, for that thou dar’st not grieve; Plough thou the rock until it bear; Know, for thou else couldst not believe; Lose, that the lost thou may’st receive; 15 Die, for none other way canst live. When earth and heaven lay down their veil, And that apocalypse turns thee pale; When thy seeing blindeth thee To what thy fellow-mortals see; 20 When their sight to thee is sightless; Their living, death; their light, most lightless; Search no more— Pass the gates of Luthany, tread the region Elenore.’ Where is the land of Luthany, 25 And where the region Elenore? I do faint therefor. ‘When to the new eyes of thee All things by immortal power, Near or far, 30 Hiddenly To each other linkèd are, That thou canst not stir a flower Without troubling of a star; When thy song is shield and mirror 35 To the fair snake-curlèd Pain, Where thou dar’st affront her terror That on her thou may’st attain Perséan conquest; seek no more, O seek no more! 40 Pass the gates of Luthany, tread the region Elenore.

Hints for life


 Cat got your song then? I thought you’d licked it once or twice then mioawed all night

I am Miss Taken.How do you sue?
She fell head over wheel and got the handlebars into a brand new formation before dying of boredom
I always read above the lines of lassitude as I long for your  trembling touching timidity to pass by on the other side.
Laughter is the best sedattive not invented by man.
Waking up on the wrong side of the body is disconcerting if you are not dead yet
I wanted to dither on the dotted line but he read me the riot tact and that was the end
Butt clenching strain made him feint in a lively manner with a spanner from the works
Heart-stopping dearness made me love him
I love you more than strife and health
And hence they all lived happily ever dafter
The quiet before I was born was delightfully calming.. like being dead could be in the womb of God

My life on the net

garden 2

When I was at University I spent 6 years studying mathematics.But I always liked poetry and novels.My school thought I should study English Literature,but to me that was not a creative activity.The way we were taught was to criticize books,plays,poems by many famous writers [mostly men!]

Three in one


I didn’t want to criticize only.I wanted to write but I never thought I could.I followed my career as a mathematician until my vision deteriorated.I could not read mathematical symbols anymore.Still it had earned me a living


I began going to an Art Class as I wanted to  see as much as I could. in case my vision got worse,I was so  very  embarrassed because all the others were very good whereas I had no idea what all the terms meant [Even for pencil drawing ].I was afraid but I kept going and did learn to look at the world differently.At that time I .I had not got a computer.Later I could not get to the class but did more here at home

Two cats

Two cats

I bought my laptop and after some time I discovered digital art.I had no books about it so I just played.I found Microsoft Paint inviting and simple.Later I found Artweaver and which I used to manipulate my photographs

Lily pond

Lily pond

I only took photos because by error I bought a phone with a camera on it.Next time I’ll tell you how I wrote my first poems


I like blue



Love was,oh,so long ago

Waxy flowers in the snow

Source: Kathryn

Waxy flowers poking through
Snow so white
Flowers bright.
Made me think of you.

I see once more your dark gold hair,
Soft as snow,
On my pillow.
Now my bed is bleak and bare

Your face turned to me,flower to sun,
I loved you.
You were true.
Fear by love was overcome.

I saw the cyclamen in snow,
Pink and red,
Now frozen,dead.
Love was,oh,so long ago.

But never gone from in my mind.
Thoughts so deep,
Upwards seep.
Love was gentle,love was kind,
You’re always in my mind


Beware the man who grumbles and complains


Beware the man and all men

No woman ever can be what he dreams

Nor can such give comfort on the road.

Yet every night he plots and thinks and schemes.

And rarely does he ever go abroad.

No food he eats will satisfy his tongue.

The best wine is as naught to mother’s milk.

He grumbles and will not admit to wrong.

I ‘ve known more men than him of this same ilk.

No bed can be the right one for his sleep.

No sheets and pillows suit his wary skin.

He often has made gentle maidens weep

Crying out they’are fat or boney thin.’

Beware the man who never can adapt

For in own lone wishes he is trapped

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