Tag: life

Stan is spying on his wife again

Photo1043

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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

 
 

With tender puzzled eyes





A day of sudden changes.Clouds

cross the sky

like whales swimming North in rows.

The sun was bright,dazzled my eyes

with gold and silver.

Wind cut across my face

like a slap from an angry father..

Those who love can also seem to hate us too..

The lure of that small childish body

tempts them to divert their anger towards it.

When the ones who hurt you

are also the ones you love,

it’s hard to know which direction to run in;

but it usually turns into a circle.

Retreating turns into a new arrival.

Straight lines might be better. though

On a spherical earth

difficult to find.

Even parallel lines meet

In their Riemannian geometry.

So we can never get away

Sometimes the best we manage

Is to increase the circle’s radius.

Though how is hard to know.

Do you love me or hate me?

Do you want me to stay or go?

What do I want?Do I have a me?

The memory of warmth draws me back

Like a cold lonely beast leaving the jungle

To lie down with a what appears to be a lamb,

Surprising the farmer up early to milk his animals

Finding a strange new one

Looking with tender,puzzled eyes

into His Human Face.































	


	



			
				


			

			
I want a winter lover
		
	
	

		












New River












In summer time when  sun does shine


I’m  happy on my own


I gaze up through red maple leaves


All transparent in the sun.


But when winter comes I’m lonely


Sitting here beside my fire.


So I want  a winter lover


To make my  spirits  higher.


Oh,my winter love  come to me


And I’ll gaze deep into your eyes


The light that shines in there


Is so much warmer than my fire.


We’ll  stroll  through wintry  woodlands,


Where elegance  lies bare.


The branches struck  by sun


Now feel  the frosty grasp of air.


I’ll love you all  the winter time


i”ll love you in the dark.


I’d like dwell  within  your arms,


To love   in London Parks


When summer  comes I’ll disappear


To roam across the dales


I’ ll sleep on heather moorlands


And send you  loving  mail.


I can’t be tied  in summertime


I must be roaming free


But ,if  you accept   this need of mine,


Then how happy I shall be.


 


 


 













	


	



			
				


			

			
Mary gets worried
		
	
	

		
Mary was feeling a bit off colour.Then she found a scary looking thing on her neck…

Stan,she moaned,come here!

What is it my duck.Stan cried.Are you alright..

No,Mary replied,I just looked in the mirror.

Well,dear,you still look young to me,the dear old man replied… still I suppose it must be hard for someone who was o nce very beautiful.

No,it’s not that,she responded faintly.

What is it then?Did you see Satan?

Not directly,she told him gently… but I saw this funny looking thing on my neck…

Have your lovers been biting you,he enquired caringly.

Stan,I have no lovers.

I find that hard to believe,he replied.

I am your wife,she told him.

Are you really?I forgot…Well,if you’d like a lover I am ok with that.I am getting past it.

Well considering your behaviour you have not got a leg to stand on….

Mmmm, he murmured,I am a man,you see.

I know you are a man… I married you for that reason.

How kind.If I went in for a sex change op,how would you feel?

How would YOU feel she said.They won’t be wasting money on that any more.Why you have to wait 6 months for cancer ops.

Only if it is a “non-worrying cancer” which nevertheless

” must be removed before it invades the nearby structures” they reminded each other.

I am wondering if this thing which you claim is a love bite is in fact a cancerous lesion…

I know.I was wondering.And they’ve not done the first yet.

I think we should see the doctor.

I want to do more than see him.I’d like to speak to him.

What will you say?

Hello,you are my doctor,are you not?

That’s a bit pedantic..

Take a decco at this thing on my neck,which by the way is not a result of having sex with a vampire.

Do you always decide what to say before you go?

No,I usually write my concerns on a sheet of paper and hand it to him, being as I am a disordered  avoidant personality.

That’s a good idea as he hates people rabbiting on.

Does he?

Yes,he told me off for asking how he was!

How he was what?

That’s just what he said.I say, are YOU the doctor?

Just because two  people say the same thing it does not follow that  they are the same person.

But it is a strange coincidence… is it not?

Well,I suppose I’d better ring the surgery.

Hello, we are closed right now,Please go to Hell.The doctor has gone mad…

Did they really say that?

No, he can see you at 11 pm tomorrow in the woods…

I can’t wait…

Well,said Emile,you will have to wait.That’s what you always tell me…

Emile,you are a very intelligent cat.

Thank you miaowed the furry beast in a jolly voice.

May I come to the doctor’s with you.

Wait and see,said Mary rudely.I have a lot on my mind . I am getting too irritable . I might upset somebody.

A lot of people get irritable when stressed,said Stan

Yes, cats do as well, concurred Emile.. then they scratch holes in the carpet and gnaw the furniture….

That explains a lot,Mary said.I think you need a tranquilliser,Emile…. even cats can have nervous troubles…You may need therapy if we can afford it.Then you can study mentalising and read Peter Fonagy.What fun that will be,not.

	


	



			
				


			

			
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










 











	


	



			
				


			

			
If I go
		
	
	

		
If I go I won’t tell you.
I’ll just disappear one day.
Like when a cigarette ,which seemed so long,
suddenly has become smaller
and you never noticed it
because you were talking
about the meaning of life
while life was somewhere else
blown away with your smoke
into the sky
and then dispersed
never quite visible again
but still floating on the breeze
hoping to be caught
in a butterfly net
but unable to communicate
except by flying.
If I go it will not be today
but it will be an ordinary day
no one will realise
that it’s that day
that the bird flies
from her nest
to go to a new place
only seeing the deserted nest
he realises,
my bird has flown

	


	



			
				


			

			
The Promised Land
		
	
	

		






I have loved you and I’ve held you.

Many years,you have been mine;

If the time has come for parting

Let us embrace for one last time.


You know you have to leave me,

Though you desire a longer stay.

Let me hold you in my arms now

For just tonight and perhaps one day


Then I’ll watch you travel on,love,

We take this last step all alone.

I’ll be here beside you watching.

I shall feel when you are gone.


May you accept,may you surrender.

May you reach the promised land.

Into  earth my tears will fall, sweet,

As I recall your tender hands.







	


	



			
				


			
				


			

			
Mental misrule update
		
	
	

		
 


IMG_0289


 


Irritable boundary personality disorder.

Rubber boundary personality disorder

Unacceptable boundary lines disorder

Invisible boundary disorder.

Friendly feinting disorder.

Bully personality psychosis.

Prying personality disorder..

Irresolute male disoyder.

Self righteous soul disorder.

God bothering disorder.

Victim seeking personality disorder

Materialistic greed disorder.

Birds nests disorder .

Failing to brush the hair on the back of your head disorder

Disguised theft societal disorder.

Praying for others without permission disorder.

Laughing cavalierly personality disorder.

Unwillingness to care societal disorder…

Over exposed photos male disorder.

Gadget collecting personality tendency leading to more orders.

Instruction manual induced psychosis.

Translation disorder

Soul destroying societal disorder.

Humiliating others personality disorder.

Spiritual tendency errors in navigation neurosis.

Writing obsession in just one of many:sex,icecream.sunshine,love,wool,pianos,paper,newspapers,photos


Treatment is sometimes rest,arrest, or kinder revolution than before…We hope… or maybe meditation for 15 minutes twice daily for women and three times for men..

.

Complaining lady personality misrule

Look here,this is not what I ordered.

Well,someone did!


Lord love a duckPhoto0205

	


	



			
				


			

			
We think but do we know?
		
	
	

		




8282959_f520I used to love my mother

but then I got too old.

She didn’t want to feed me

Because I felt the cold.

My feet and hands were purple

which she told me was wrong.

I couldn’t change the colour

so had to change my tongue.

I used to love my father

Until he went away.

They said he’s with the angels

and small girls ought to pray.

And then I loved the cat we had

And all four kittens too…

Until my mother got fed up

and sent them to the zoo.

I said I am disheartened

Life is far too hard…

or else I’m hypersensitive

and must become a bard.

I loved a Spanish waiter.

A young man from Peru.

I loved a lot of others–

No more than ninety two.

That is just an estimate

An average, a norm.

It’s what I told the doctor


When he filled out a form


He said to me,You err,my dear

And I mistook his speech

I thought he meant he loved me.

But he just meant to teach.

What he meant was quantity

is not what we desire..

One man is sufficient

Unless he is a liar.

And in the darkness of the bed

What matters is their smell.

Some men smell like honey..

much more I cannot tell

for though these men pursued me

I had such poor eyesight

I didn’t  see them properly

especially at night..

I was more keen on Wittgenstein.

and whether I am real..

Maybe I’ve gone crackers


And don’t know  I’m surreal


I don’t want any lovers now

for love brought so much pain

I’d rather be a jellied eel

than fall in love again.

But friendliness and welcome

Are what we humans need…

And cats and dogs and willow trees

Which don’t make our hearts bleed.

One man is sufficient

And necessary too..

Without my own sweet husband

whatever would I do?

He listens with his heart and soul

And he is never harsh…

He likes to hear me singing

Across of Southwold Marsh.

He likes to take the ferry boat

Across the River Blythe.

But now I hope the ferryman

will not yet arrive..

We have to cross that river

We have to let life go…

We have to be untied and freed.

We think,but do we know?

In the silvery moonlight,

Time gets her own  way

In the darkness of the night

Time will have her say.

Time has come and gone again

And so the hand descends

So I bid you fond farewell,

We have reached the end.

Oh,wrap me up dear mother

in my winding cloth

Take me in your ancient arms

for I have had enough.

I’ve loved and loved and loved again.

I’ve puzzled and I’ve pained

but all I want’s a writing tool

To write down words again





	


	



			
				


			

			
Illness is a plot to slow us down
		
	
	

		
Illness is a plot to slow us down

when God sees we are about to catch him up.

His face is covered by a thoughtful frown…

till he bestows with love the poisoned cup.


For speed is alien to the human soul

we have to live as slowly as hearts beat.

If rushing on we may miss our life’s goal..

Running down some long and rain filled street.


Step by step across the dangerous flood

On stones placed there by patient long gone men.

With care,perception guides us to the good

but haste leads often to a tiger’s den.


Beware impulsive speeding in your mind

For out of this come many acts unkind

	


	



			
				


			

			
I knit with love my life and my own tale
		
	
	

		
I knit the rhythmic pattern of my day.
the complex stitches make me sure to err
and yet i have no fear for on this way
I knit or unknit with my calm and care.


With warp and weft both in their rightful place
with right and wrong accepted and allowed
I knit so slowly,saying no to haste.
I worship with my truth and am not cowed.


As I go back to fix a stitch which is not right
No longer do I castigate myself..
For in a flash I saw as if in light
That to and fro are both a part of health.


For now I know we all at times shall fail
And that is part of our life’s measured tale

	


	



			
				


			
				


			

			
Shame
		
	
	

		
I have just been thinking of how  both when I was a child ad later there was a very strong emphasis on  guilt and sin,but not on shame which I think is more painful or isolating.I am not quite sure what shame is but I am planning to find our.


Guilt is fear  about something  bad you have done.


Shame seems to be total feeling of being u nworthy as a person

	


	



			
				


			
				


			
				


			

			
Please pass over soon with a helping foot
		
	
	

		
This love’s a disgrace to me and all women
Love’s a wanker  singing a duet with himself
I love you less than I love a sheep’s eye or a pigsty
Far more than your words distresss me,your body is a blot on the landscape of life.Are you ready for erasure?
My head is winning over my heart so run now while you have a chance
My heart is aching to believe you have gone for good,bad and are now indifferent,
My heart sings to a new tune.. I hate you., it cries
My heart must have lied about you so now I am a suspect in my own murder.It’s just  a plot for a new novel
My heart is a bony lump now and it’s turning to stone
My heart is very ashamed of loving such a pair of nuts.
My heart gave a bad start after you shouted and swore at me.Get out at once and shoot your foot then shoot your other foot
My heart is hiding in a burrow with Alice in Wonderland
If my heart is in my hand I’m dead.Howzat?is it not cricket?
I now believe my heart is a liar and my head is in charge from now on.Let’s use some iintellectual intelligence
My art is fiery and I smoke.I’m a dragon and I’ll kill you if i meet you.You know who you are.May you soon pass over like a grey cloud in a stiff breeze and water someone else

	


	



			
				


			

			
If I go
		
	
	

		


Image






If I go I won’t tell you.

I’ll just disappear one day.

Like when a cigarette ,which seemed so long,

suddenly has become smaller

and you never noticed it

because you were talking

about the meaning of life

while life was somewhere else

blown away with your smoke

into the sky

and then dispersed

never quite visible again

but still floating on the breeze

hoping to be caught

in a butterfly net

but unable to communicate

except by flying.

If I go it will not be today

but it will be an ordinary day

no one will realise

that it’s that day

that the bird flies

from her nest

to go to a new place

only seeing the deserted nest

he realises,

my bird has flown



	


	



			
				


			

			
A wonderful review of J G.Ballard and his novels..
		
	
	

		
Do read this if you like literature and novels






IMG_0354


http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/apr/04/jg-ballard-celebration-five-years-writers-books-reissued.


I have not yet read all of his novels but I really liked his works.He had a very hard life in amny ways including bringing up three tiny childre alone and he proves that smoking and drning do not always kill you in middle age!

Blue





	


	



			
				


			

			
The  promised land
		
	
	

		


=


Joy sings now in summer light;

Yet after day comes deep,black night.

New moon will rise by these gray trees.

Our earth is where I want to be.


I want the day;I want the night.

I want the dark;I want the light.

I want to see and to be seen,

And not to lose myself in dreams.


The sun has set,gray clouds turn black,

The day just gone will not come back.

I’ll rest in thoughtful reverie

Until the reaper’s scythe takes me.


And then I drop and mix with dust,

till worms and beetles sate their lust.

I fall into ten thousand motes,

And dance,in sunlight,music’s notes.


No more striving;no more ambition,

No more fighting;no competition,

Every particle’s the same

Without even its special name.


And, side by side, we all are one,

The lusts of life have been and gone.

We dwell with dirt and grain and sand

At last we’ve reached the Promised Land



	


	



			
				


			

			
Postmodernism preys
		
	
	

		
Postmodernism’s the fashion ne’er manque.
 We must study Foucault and his scribes.
 Get reason trapped and do not court  delay.
 You need to find your intellectual tribe.


Where is the goose which laid the golden egg..
 Invented meta-talk and fairy tales?
 Which narrative is balanced on a peg?
 Which philosopher gets re-homed by a whale?


Where is the whole truth and the nothing but?
 Whose ‘ the eye which sees reality?
 Who ‘s the judge who makes the final cut?
 Where is the God to whom we owed fealty?


Now nothing is what anyone can say.
 I understand it’s meaningless to pray

	


	



			
				


			

			
Paul Tillich and I: The Courage To Be
		
	
	

		
Paul Tillich photo


Tillich 1You know this experience, sometimes when you are browsing in a bookshop you come across a book with a wonderful title. This happened to me as  student when I saw a book with this title:


“The courage to be ”


by Paul Tillich


I was going through a hard time and just the title alone helped me as no one I knew had ever said it takes courage to live well.So I bought this book and dipped in. I found it interesting and thoughtful.Sometimes I would just look at the front cover and repeat the title.I had discovered mantra meditation.in a sense.


This morning I was listening to a radio programme  about poetry in England and tidying up. Suddenly my old battered copy fell out of a shelf and into my hand.And I said, thank you. Because I had  lost this companion and now it’s restored to me when I need again to say the words to help me in a personal crisis.


The Courage to Be


And to recognise the power of words on the human mind and thus to take care of  self and others and what we say to them for they too are struggling humans as we ourselves are.


And to discover virtue is not faux piety which suddenly reminded me that Tillich had a weakness for women. He was no plaster saint. I am not saying. I approve.


Had he stayed in Germany he would no doubt have been imprisoned even killed like Dietrich Bonhoeffer.He would not have been silent


Books… they save lives. I was so grateful and still am for education, books, people who talk to me .Had I lived a few years earlier it would have been different.


http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/595850/Paul-Tillich/7266/Development-of-his-philosophy


Tillich was expelled from Germany in 1933,the first non-Jewish theologian to have this honor bestowed on him.I never saw him but I love him for his writing.


Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone and solitude expresses the glory of being alone.

Paul Tillich

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/p/paul_tillich.html#y15kkZigwdviBd76.99

	


	



			
				


			

			
Spiritual verses
		
	
	

		






    

  • 

    Gravity
    
Oh, cradle my soul in your light
    

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  • 

    As I am in darkness tonight.
    

    • 

  • 

    Fill me with your love
    

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  • 

    On earth,not above.
    

    • 

  • 

    Your touch is both gentle and bright.
    

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    Seeing and feeling are one.
    

    • 

  • 

    As senses conjoin yet are none.
    

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  • 

    I know it is so
    

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    The darkness shall glow
    

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    You are both god and person.
    

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    It seems like the heavens are weeping
    

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    Rain and snow fall while we’re sleeping
    

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    The clouds are grey black
    

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    As Northward they trek.
    

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    As for records, are they all we are keeping?
    

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    We dwell in a body of flesh
    

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    With others we love to enmesh.
    

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    Let’s get up and dance now
    

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    Love shows us how…
    

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  • 

    We dance to the tunes that refresh
    

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    We humans need meaning to create
    

    • 

  • 

    The meaningless can agitate.
    

    • 

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    But stories abound.
    

    • 

  • 

    Pick the best you have fo found
    

    • 

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    Get in there and start to narrate
    

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    In nature time goes round and round
    

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    Life’s a spiral, the wise man has found.
    

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  • 

    Each time I pass you
    

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  • 

    I see you anew
    

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    Until gently we are laid in the ground.
    

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    The end is the beginning,they say.
    

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    So say what is important today.
    

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    For time flows like a stream;
    

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     What is ,soon has been.
    

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    So we are foolish to encourage delay
    

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You are of this earth
		
	
	

		
You  came  to be here gradually,
from the whirling chaos of the dreaming infant,
anchored by the maternal hand to earth.
Do not try to fly back to heaven today.
Be patient;your guides will,with no effort,
Teach you the patterns and the dance.
All you need is to be open and to trust,
For you have a place in the world.
We need your contribution.No-one else
will see this world from your perspective.
And as you trust the chaos now,fear it not
Should it return.Every creative act
involves the breaking of these barriers
by which we keep the chairs and tables
anchored into themselves.The patterns may break up
but new ones are somewhere near.Patience
with this suffering is the only route now.
You cannot go back.Heaven comes only after
you have grown roots into this earth,
grown sunward,and travailed the storms
and stinging blows;
have grown your flowers and leaves
And let them fall.
Accept.
The only way you can go
is the earthly way.
You are part of us.
We love you.
Our hands are reaching out
If you just lift your eyes.
In the Chaos,God danced and rainbows
Flew from his hands and tears fell from his eyes.
Those tears which fertilised our earth.
He wept, knowing of the pain to come;
And yet,he did not cease to dance.

	


	



			
				


			

			
Simple wisdom
		
	
	

		















    

  • 

    

    circles of words
    

    She has eyes in the back of her head
    

    In my childhood people often said things like this..sayings,adages often very wise.In this case,it’s a very vivid way of saying this person sees a lot,maybe more than others like.Because being looked at is nice but being scrutinised is unpleasant for most of us,I feel.
    
On the other hand,with love it is different.
    
Crocus 
    

    He can’t take his eyes off her
    

    If you take this literally it sounds odd.But most language is dead metaphors.
    
It conveys strongly how compelling this woman is to a certain man…is he afraid she will vanish?And his friends may say he’d be wiser to look round a bit more before committing himself to the possible anguish of love which may be unrequited.
    
These sayings are very powerful sometimes.
    

    Keep putting one foot in front of the other
    

    You may think it’s trite,,, but I don’t.It’s saying ,just keep walking,keep moving………. and eventually it’s likely you will get to a better place,emotionally speaking.
    
You may think if someone said that when you were feeling low that they were just unable to say anything original but in a way,it says what is important.
    
Life is a journey and we keep travelling along even if it’s hard.I think though that the way you say it matters, and how you are already towards that person.
    
Movement is important in life.Blood circulates,air goes in and out of our mouths and noses,water goes through us and out again carrying impurities.
    

    Put me through your kidneys,Lord
    
Make me pure again…..
    
No!No hymn like this,please.
    

    Of course,some poets have a gift of inventing new forms in which to express these important matters in life.Even adverts sometimes have compelling wordings.
    

    Go to work on an egg
    

    is very funny and we remember it.And it’s memory that recalls these adages to us when we need them
    

    “I may feel bad but I am a person who keeps my word so I will do what I promised even though I feel so upset”
    

    “We always have clean sheets every week and we always will as long a I am here.”
    

    Saying these things to ourselves is helpful in my view.And we are strengthened by doing what we wish to do and not lying drunken on the sofa all day.
    
I am concerned that many of these wise words seem to have gone from our vocabulary,
    

    Cat and wool
    

    Keep the ball rolling.
    

    This means to keep life flowing even if only slowly I think… it;s using the idea of a game with a ball [Greek bole… to throw]
    
Ball games are crucial to our identity as English,Welsh Irish,Scottish,French etc
    
and then the game is a metaphor for life where playing well counts,not winning because in the end there is no winning or losing but we live the best life we can… in our own way ideally… that’s where poverty or slavery are so destructive.But even there,we see some people live with dignity and courage to shame the rest of us.
    

    Your own life is your work of art.
    

    

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I’m never quite sure what eyes can see
		
	
	

		


 Image








When I was alive and a girl what’s more
I never went to bed in case I snored…
I avoided the bathroom and never used soap
Unless it was dangling from a rope.


Unless it was examined through a microscope.


When I was a girl and never saw a boy
I bought some plasticine and made a toy.
I never went to bed alone at night
I took a cat which sure could bite.


I took a cat and we had a fight..


When I was a ghost I haunted fools
Like the teacher at my school.
I never went to bed as I never sleep…
And then I fall into a heap.


And then I fall into the deep.


When I was a woman I was claimed by a man,,
He said,I have a frying pan.
We went to bed and he knew me…
And all my body was his to see.


And all my body was buzzing like a bee……


Then I grew old and withered and lined
We both fell into a decline.
We went to bed and we kissed and joked
Lit cigarettes and we both smoked.


Lit cigarettes and we both stroked.





	


	



			
				


			

			
Known not understood
		
	
	

		


 








If we see some cherries
Hanging from a branch
We’ll pick the fruit and eat them
It is our last chance


When our end is nearing
We must live far more
Like the dust motes dancing
In the sun,in joy.


See the clouds all blowing…
Where is it they go?
Like the leaves and flowers
Like the rivers flow.


See the face beloved
Known,not understood.
See the human mystery
Feel how love can flood.


See the smoke blow upwards
See the children gaze
Innocence and beauty
New born each day.


The first time our eyes opened
We saw a human face.
The last time we close them
Let us then embrace.


Though the day is ending
Do not cut it short.
Live each moment till the last
In love as we were taught





	


	



			
				


			

			
Levinas,books etc
		
	
	

		
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I have received several books now written by or about Levinas.As you guess,they are quite hard so my time is taken up reading.The most hopeful one,The          Cambridge Guide,is not here yet.but I think it will be more understandable than the others to an ignorant person like myself. I am unsure what I’ve done but this  is coming out very much to one side so I shall just say.Hello and continue with my studies.I like this shy lion picture.


PS.Just got the Cambridge Guide and it looks quite approachable.


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Elegy for Mihalyi Csikzentmihalyi
		
	
	

		
Mihalyi was a saint of sorts;


he improved, with his search for understanding,


the lives of so many yearning writers;


the lame in spirit heard his Zen like words.


He could not have imagined the journey


From Hungary to Zurich to Chicago


A glimpsed mandala led to the heart of the impossible image


How did he learn to trust the flow?


The Rhine flowing down to the North Sea


May start as some minute spring


At the confluence of the gravity of water and earth.


And those then who have cast their nets into that sea


May bring in treasures not found in the business of cities.


At the first sighting,the image seemed hazy


Then the words began to flow like current through a wire.


Like a river cutting slowly through rocks of marble,


like an unknown sage from the Himalyan Alps


who had kissed the lips of his muse more than once


As she floated like a ghost, no,more like music


Tracing concentric spheres into the air


Till the universe was singing.


What was most human was his appetite,his love.


Touch the hem of his garment,follow your flow


Cut your path through the hard darkness until you find


The sunlit sea you were made to swim in

	


	



			
				


			

			
Penance?Oh,my.
		
	
	

		
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Bless me Father,for I have sinned


What did you do my child?


I was hurt by a comment someone made.So I told them.


Seems quite fair to me!


Really,Father?


Any more sins?


Yes,I write rude poems.


Leave some with my housekeeper.i’ must read them


And I ate a biscuit last week,Father.


What had the biscuit ever done to you?Had it bitten you?


No,Father.


There you are.do as you would be done by!


Next please.


But you didn’t give me any penance,Father.


With your temperament you don’t need penance.


Thank God it’s got some advantage then


For blasphemy it’s £10


How much for fornication?


£100.


Yes,please.That will d

	


	



			
				


			

			
Never say logic again.
		
	
	

		
English: A schizophrenic patient at the Glore ...
English: A schizophrenic patient at the Glore Psychiatric Museum made this piece of cloth and it gives us a peek into her mind. Русский: Вышивка, сделанная пациентом, страдающим от шизофрении. Экспонат психиатрического музея Глор, Миссури. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Schizophrenia (Wayne Shorter album)
Schizophrenia (Wayne Shorter album) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


My foreign students said I was too warm to be British,so turn off your heating now or face  execution as a  traitor.


What people forget is we Brits are a mixed race… then we have the nerve to call people,wogs,dagos and foreigners.we are all foreigners here apart from the Welsh.


Some students told me their dreams;s,anything to avoid algebra!


I  personally found quantum theory helps to avoid emotional overspill…


and topology  is useful for dressmakers


Dreams and love are all very well… if you are a millionaire.Till then keep on with figures,asymmetry and words.


Friends are no use unless you are a real person.Whatever she is.


Schizophrenia is to some extent cowardliness………….keep your feet on the ground and say straight out what you mean without entering into wordplay,fey ways,being a seer and seeing how life veers.It’s all absolute bullshit.Only not all bulls are male.


Some bulls are e-male.


Depression is mainly the result of being driven.So give up the chauffeur and take your time.


Some loose women are fast  and vice versa.Isn’t logic trying?


I was so thin  when I began lecturing I got half fare on the bus and I was 25.So studying keeps you young.Never say,Dirac,again.


I was so thin then I bought children’s clothes but now I am  twice the size.Then they said I might have TB,now they say I could get diabetes.Take your pick……there’s something in me that will never take the middle way.My middle gets in the way.


We all eat too much considering how little we do.Bring back the scrubbing  board,brush and hard green soap.But if I eat less I faint…. what an ‘orrible feeling as your vision shrinks to a pinpoint and you sweat all over but more on the top of the head…. and you throw yourself onto the floor… or the ceiling.


Once we were having a meal with another couple…with one of those heated plate things on the table.I passed out and for years they talked about it.They divorced later and blamed me!Still,I gave them something to talk about so maybe I helped.


If you get disturbed stop introspecting and sweep the floor or the pavement.Do useful things with your hands and help others.Be polite even if you think they are the Devil


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