I was in the kitchen washing up one day when I kept getting lines suitable for sonnets coming into my mind.I haad just written one sonnet so I then wrote two more.
I had a realisation that if one learns a certain form,technique or skill then that will act like a fishing net to draw up material from the depths of the mind which wants to be expressed.There definitely is desire in these sentences which wish to be spoken.. to communicate.
Another example of the desires of the mind is shown by the following example.I was feeling extremely distressed one day and began writing a sonnet in which I intended to say something very unpleasant but after writing one and a half stanzas I realised that this other good part of my mind did not wish me to write something cruel or angry… so I changed direction and made it quite different.
And conversely I once had very unkind thoughts coming into my mind about someone who had hurt me profoundly and was unable to say anything to help me afterwards… or was unable to apologise but I told myself that I did not agree with these bad thoughts and would not allow them to make me do something against my own moral code.However I felt the temptation strongly and indeed I had been used wrongly by someone.
So I can see different selves in me. Something very good and something bad… then me, in between them!
Tag: self
By a large shop’s mirror I sat down and wept
The school tell me the children are totally nitless now
They are tested daily by flea circuses.. what a performance
And they even know how to read faces and use body language since most cannot talk….
So how can they read? Silently,no doubt
Some children wear nappies in school to save time going to the lav.. whatever next… taking a baby’s bottle to save paying for school dinners..?
Some folk think,why grow up when we die later…. why not stay as children.. but in the end most of us give in and give up the breast for a few short years.. then those with them are hunted by those without.I think it was very unfair not to give men a bosom of their own though perhaps it would lead to total narcissism and we don’t want that do we?Ahaa.
As for their organs?How about becoming a hermaphrodite on the NHS..Two fo’ one.Marry yourself and save money on beds..and sheets and so on.. I suppose it’s boring marrying someone you can’t see except through a mirror
Think about it.. you can see anyone at all except yourself… very intriguing..so save up or make a mirror from mercury.Just don’t eat it.
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For lonely harts
They say I have a great sense of rumour.
And I am extremely dutiful.
My hair is like spun mould.
My eyes are like two bars.
My nose is ironic like the poet’s.
All in all I am a site to be ribald.
My cooking is extra-ordinary ,indeed it is plain.
My figure is probably zero writ on a barge.
I am a very rude housekeeper and all the furniture is witless.
My husband buys me furniture polish for Xmas made from bees wax.This is true.
Do bees ever wane?I know they can buzz.
My doctor said I was the second cleverest person she ever met and she should know as there were ten patients signed on there…I still don’t know which one was the cleverest but I don’t believe in IQ anymore.You see mine is 200… and look t my life… then you will wonder whether I have no EQ..none at all..you don’t need it to do theoretical physics.
My therapist admired my dreams as she was in most of then rowing me out to sea.
She wanted to show me a new perspective on life but we had to call the lifeboat out… should i stop the therapy and have swimming lessons instead ? I think if one has to keep calling out the elifeboat it is not a good omen and I could save the money and buy more wool…
What does pellucid nean?I just love the word… is it related to lucid?
I need a bath and the birds have gone so for economy I shall use theirs;
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Losing one’s self again
There are trends in society to encourage us to build our self esteem and to value ourselves… to develop and achieve a place suited to our talents.. but what is best for me is when I lose myself in something.I was reading an old blog of a friend and was quite absorbed and went into a different state of mind..then I regretted I don’t manage to lose myself enough being a housewife and having much on my mind and being busy.
Sometimes it can happen when we love a person.Sometimes a wonderful landscape feels like home.. other times a sunset across the Irish sea from the cliffs of the Isle of Man where myriad butterflies swirl and float over flowers and rocks.
Modern life, the News,talk,excitement of the wrong sort seem to lock us into our self and frighten us so we forget the value of fining something in which to lose ourselves and grow as a result. Sitting by a river fishing,knitting,sewing,a book, many things can elicit this response And remember how horror filled was the self consciousness of adolescence and how good to forget one’s self being more comfortable and accepting of appearance and image..How to live like a wild flower for a time… and be happy not to be a rose but just a tiny wild geranium or a moderate sized gentle pink flower in a arden
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Trust the unknown force that grew you,
Trust the unknown force that grew you,
From the joining of two cells.
Act of love, of self giving,
Thus to grow a newer self.
Trust the dark,the unseen aspects
Of the life we all do live.
Trust that there is wisdom elsewhere,
To your emptiness to give.
Wait in patience for the time
When inspiration comes at last
Trust in darkness,silence,lowness.
Opposition forms the cross.
Pain is bearable in lowness,
Like the worm in earth I dwell.
When I look I see the sunrise
And I trust all shall be well.
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- Fear of the Unknown (treasuryofdailyprayer.wordpress.com)
- God ain’t impressed with religion (godislovechristianblog.wordpress.com)
- Ex-pope Benedict says God told him to resign during ‘mystical experience’ (theguardian.com)
- Against Nature (unapprovedmusings.wordpress.com)
- Stages of Spiritual Growth (integral-living.com)
- progressive theology (highergroundacloserlook.com)
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Riemann’s cat
Two whole worlds.
One small cut.
One little chink.
Hard to find.
Very,very hard.
One small place
Where a very little cat
Could slip right through
The geometrician ‘s cut.
Cat could slip right through.
Just,slip straight through.
Joining it’s own reflection
On the opposite side.
The mirror’s other side.
And if I caught that tail,
If I caught her little tail,
She could pull me through,
She could pull me through,
So she and I too
We’d be on the other side,
The wrong way round,
On the opposite side.
So when you looked in,
If you looked in,
You would see me there,
Looking out at you,
From the opposite side.
From the opposite side.
And the cat beside
Looking very small,
Very,very small;
But very,very real.
How do you think you’d feel,
If I was looking out,
Staring at you
From the opposite side?
I can’t get back.
I can’t find Riemann’s cat
and without that pussy cat
I can’t find Riemann’s cut.
I think I’m in a trap.
I cannot find that cat.
So she can’t find the cut
To get me back,
She can’t bring me back
To where I was before.
Oh,how queer,
To have two of me in here.
I hope I’ll get on well
With my other self,
Behind the looking glass.
No one looking in,
But two are staring out.
From that other world.
I am looking out,
I’m looking out
To see if you are there.
One of you’s with me
That makes the total three.
Oh,dear me,
I should not have grabbed
Little pussy’s tail.
I didn’t really know
Where she meant to go.
“Wherever have you been?
Where do you think you’ve been
To get so filthy black,
And where’s your pussy cat?”
She never came back.
Never came back
From the opposite side.
Mummy thought I’d lied.
I don’t tell lies,
But I can see my cat
Staring out at me.
Staring out at me
From the other side.
From the opposite side
Of my looking glass.
My lovely looking glass
Has trapped my tiny cat
On the opposite side.
On the opposite side
On the other side
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A favorite poem:As Kingfishers catch fire by G.M.Hopkins
As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.
I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is —
Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.
Source: Gerard Manley Hopkins: Poems and Prose (Penguin Classics, 1985)
How my heart sings 