Latish May: writing and images

  • Already it’s the last day of the month.
    That is usually when I think of you
    Walking by the river,the path green
    With moss and small grass blades.
    Is that your shadow across the window?
    I still expect you though you’re long gone.
    Damply trudging through the meadow,
    Hand in hand we never noticed the cold,
    Though my fingers were painful with chilblains.
    I don’t see you any more,nor the chilblains.
    Would I walk on knives for you
    Like the girl in the fairytale,No.
    But almost anything else.
    Sand runs through my fingers,
    I’m a human timer,though not for eggs,
    But for love,my time is running out.
    Though even in a moment one can receive love
    In the smile of a stranger.
    Why should love not be short
    Like a grass blade?
    Or tiny like a grain of sand?
    Dante only saw Beatrice once,
    But it sustained his life for ever.
    That’s worth dwelling on.

  • http://www.arduity.com/toolkit/risk.html

    This is a website called Arduity which is about difficult poetry,how to understand it and has many good discussions about risk and so on.I recommend it just may make reading poetry less scary.Cats praying

  • wild cat

    http://vandelaydesign.com/blog/blogging/common-blogging-problems/
    Tthree more cats
    I just saw this which I feel will be of interest to many people though not to cats.
    If you are a cat,please out your paw down here
    This will help cat owners with finger issues.Cats............... funny day

    This image is intriguing as it appears to be naive but it uses a rare kind of geometry known only to a few people… mostly introverted men with their heads in the cloud……………yes, you can store your head on the cloud for free now with
    GOOGLE HEAD
    You may be the first people in the world to know about this.That’s because so far we have got a name but no product…but we are working hard.

    We feel it’s only fair to say you need to have your head screwed on before you can unscrew it for storage.If your head is fastened by other fixtures please consult a psychiatrist at your earliest convenience

    loo

    If you have no convenience use your discretion instead please.Do not use a vicarage garden.I suggest a disused coal mine.
    coal mine
    Be circumspect and remember the old proverb:
    Discretion is the better part of valour
    What does it mean?
    signed by K.Flannery O’Braithwaite-Ulysses M.A.D.Phil. {Knittingham U.K.]


  • Jack had just taken early retirement from his job as a maths researcher in Knittingham University.His large collection of maths books was overwhelming the home he shared with his excitable,chic and sharp tongued French wife Simone.
    Simone was still working at the university cleaning computers heads all day long.. so she claimed.Now she was hoping that she and Jack could do more entertaining…..if only he would get rid of some of the books!No-one could climb over them to get into the dining room unless they had climbed the alps in early life.
    After Simone left for work wearing pink cord trousers and a dark blue denim knit jumper with a long lasting beige foundation from Max Factor covering her red face, and blue mascara to match her jumper not to mention her blue and black striped leather trainers.
    Jack gave the cat,Louisa, a hot bath in goat’s milk.Now instead of being grey she was cream coloured!
    I’ve been dyed,she shrieked politely but Jack never replied…he was daydreaming….
    He pondered,as he dried her what to do with all his maths books.He had thought of making a large collage but who would want it?
    Or he could donate them to the university or have a fire in the back garden.

    Suddenly he looked up and saw a very charmingly pink faced woman peering into the window.
    It was his neighbour Kim whose husband had disappeared last year,possibly inside a wheelie bin,though no-one was sure.

    Hello,Kim,did you want me?” he cried nervously… only realising the double

    entendre too late
    .
    I thought you might like some company for morning coffee.What a pretty cat………..what is her name?”

    Louisa was wary of Kim.Maybe the purple trousers and orange jumper might give the cat an epileptic fit… she was a sufferer, just like St Paul.She hoped to be converted but so far was disappointed.She longed to see a vision of cat food in the sky.

    Can cats go to Mass? she mioawed to Jack.
    Yes,but they can’t have Communion,he responded shyly.
    Well,we don’t eat bread but I love wine!

    I’ll mention it to the Pope next time I see him,Kim said with a roguish smile.Her make up looked to be waterproof as the drip in the ceiling was right above her head and heavy rain was falling.

    But first Louisa,you would have to confess your sins.All your sins
    I never did a thing wrong,the cat replied haughtily.
    Well,you know the Church is only for repentant sinners,so if you never sin,you can’t repent…
    so it follows indubitably that you can’t join the Church!I studied Aristotle once that’s why I get all logical with emotion.I only wish I’d got to Wittgenstein..I could have loved that man….though now I seem to recall he was gay…still,who knows perhaps I could have charmed him?

    If that were true about the Church,would Jesus be allowed to join?
    Certainly not.He was perfect and also he was Jewish.So why would he want to join the Christian church?
    As he began it, he might like to see its holy life,Louisa purred loudly.
    Really,I think this is a very odd conversation murmured the parrot,Felix Semper.

    Not so odd,responded a tall dark man who just appeared from nowhere.
    I am called Jesus he said,but I’m from Malaga.
    In Spain many men are called Jesus,he continued melliflously.
    Is that so, cried Kim murmured tenderly
    I never met a Jesus before.If you married me it would give people a shock if I said I was married to Jesus! she whispered loudly behind her hand.

    Marry you!Is it leap year? Women have never proposed to me before.
    I was just thinking out loud,she replied demurely.
    Nuns used to be married to Jesus and wore a silver wedding ring.
    I was educated at a convent school.That’s why I’m so very neurotic.

    Are you really neurotic? Jack,screamed uninhibitedly
    I have a whole shelf of books by Karen Horney here.Self Analysis, is just one.
    I could give it to you now….

    Not in front of Jesus,she muttered chastely.
    Have you no moral feelings?
    No,I’ve never had any feelings of any sort. but it’s done me no harm.
    I’ll ask Simone when she gets back, we’ll see if she agrees!
    I’m just like a computer with a human body.
    I sometimes think I’d like a suit of silver armour.
    Bless you,my child,Jesus murmured kindly.

    When they looked up the tall dark man was gone.
    They looked around but he had left no footprints.
    Should we call the police?He came in with no permission!
    How disgraceful.
    How dastardly.
    How disgusting
    How damnable.
    How divine.
    How dumb.
    How deplorable.
    So on they murmured until it was time to cook lunch..
    Sardines on toast for three… surely they could have fed Jesus with some loaves and fishes…that’s what he liked

  • The trees stretch silver branches
    In the late December sun ,
    The robin perched there watches
    As we offer him our crumbs.
    The elegance of shapes laid bare
    Forgives the winter cold.
    And side cast sun rays clearly
    Touch the embers of my soul.
    Too soon the quarter moon will rise
    To send the sun away.
    So let us all wipe clean our eyes
    To see what Winter is..
    And all the while the world rotates
    Regardless of our fate.


  • Photo0295
    I threw my words up in the air
    So they would fall at random.
    I put some paper on the floor
    For these words to land on.
    Lying like a mixed up puzzle,
    I pushed them with my fingers.
    Until I made a verse from them
    Which suits wild drunken singers.
    A Jackson Pollock of the page.
    Post modern verbal mistress
    As Picasso haunts Greek labyrinths
    With post modern art’s distresses.

    A beam of light passed through my eyes

    And showed to me a world disguised.

    So near,yet far,we do not see,

    Unless by gift of grace redeemed.

    That world is full of peace and calm.

    Its colours mingle,like a balm.

    In such a moment all thought dies,

    Revealing Love which underlies.

    Colours caress my naked eyes.

    Sunlight blesses new designs.

    I stand enthralled,and do not wish

    For one delight,other than this.

    My breath slows down, and filled with joy,

    I rove my eyes with bliss to toy.

    Everything is just itself.

    This is now my living wealth.

    Beneath the noise of city traffic,

    This mellow joy,love soporific,

    This depth and peace, is always near

    When we choose Love and turn from fear.

  • One day the answer in a crossword was”Black walnut”
    Which then lead me to write this poemHot March days 049.

    I love you like I’d love a black walnut.
    You’re so rare I can’t eat you.
    I’ll put you in my pocket
    and take you with me
    when I go in town
    I’ll feel your crinkles and your wrinkles,
    But nobody will know.

    I love you like I’d love a comice pear.
    I’ll put you in a golden bowl.
    I’ll let the sun shine on you,
    Till you are ripe.
    I’ll put you in my bag,
    Take you to a meadow of buttercups
    And devour you.
    And nobody will know.

    I love you like I’d love a flower.
    I’ll give you my best vase.
    I’ll stand it in the window.
    Then I’ll look at you all day
    With my peripheral and my central vision,
    Till your pattern is embedded in my brain.
    I’ll sleep well and dream of you all night.
    I’ll wake up and remember it all.

    And nobody will know.

  • Theorem. Every positive integer is interesting.

    Proof. Assume the opposite that there is an uninteresting positive integer. Then there must be a smallest uninteresting positive integer. But being the smallest uninteresting positive integer is interesting by itself. Contradiction!
    Hence the theorem in true


  • Trying to keep a hold of you.
    trying to keep a hold of you.
    Don’t go,
    Don’t go.
    I’ll not let you fall down that gap,
    I’ll always try to pull you back
    Little sister.

    You slipped away from us.
    You slipped because you could.
    You saw a gap and fell right down,
    You were serious,my little clown.
    Come back now.
    Come back now.
    My baby.

    I sang all those songs for you
    But I still needed a mother too.
    A mother too.
    If only I were stronger,
    Would you have stayed here longer?
    Little sister.

    As you rocked in your little chair,
    the demons of the past were there.
    Your blue eyes shone,
    Then you were gone.
    My sister.

    I saw you in a vision in a long blue gown,
    With a golden halo wrapped all round.
    You smiled and said you didn’t know
    That I had really loved you so.
    You were sorry to go like that,
    And would I please feed your little cat.
    My sister.
    Little sister.

  • Private

    I just read that in some countries maybe the USA dentists can remove a wisdom tooth and transplant it to replace another tooth..not sure about the nerve.Teeth have roots like little tree roots………I wonder if they could be gold plated and used as ear rings? There must be something one could use them for.
    My teeth have been a pest.In 1974 I had a wisdom tooth removed by a fairly junior dentist.Now it is so much better that you hardly know they have done it.Though you do get pain ….
    When the junior dentist took out my tooth I went and sat in the waiting tom where a lovely old man sat.He called to the nurse
    “Fetch this young lady a cup of tea.She looks dreadful!”
    To which she riposted
    “You should see the dentist.He’s in a terrible state!So much blood.He looks far worse than she does.”
    So I said..
    No,I said nothing at all.

    Still, it was free in those days.
    Well dentistry,like all surgery, is improving all the time here.But lately I’ve grown tires of it…I’m sure many people feel the same way.
    I must pay my bill soon.
    Fortunately i am very fond of my dentist.I knew him as a junior and now he’s got adult daughters but to me he still looks the same.It’s a strangely intimate relationship.Still it was a day out for me…It made a change.
    Next it will be the doctor…he has his mood swings…but he’s very clever.
    And I read the Times free in the waiting room.I’m a very fast reader.It’s not good usually to be fast but sometimes it has its uses in waiting rooms
    or in trains.But it’s more economical to read slowly.. you need fewer books.
    Or re read the old books.I like to do that.
    I may try writing a poem about a dentist.But it is not something I would put here.I know you like humour mote here.
    Humours … that’s more complex.Like bile and so on.
    As in “Ill humour”


  • Jim Brown was in his new conservatory admiring the windows he had just

    polished.His 82nd birthday was coming up in a few days

    Marie,his stunningly attractive yet irritable,nasty and over educated

    wife,a leading authority on Wittgenstein and most likely suffering from

    Asperger’s syndrome into the bargain,….oh a cliche prone author too—!

    had made a huge whole orange cake and planned a large gathering of friends

    to celebrate his survival for so long whilst married to her,not easy she

    knows.

    He heard a sharp tapping on the door.

    There lay Lucy their next door neighbour spying through the key hole.

    “Are you on your own?” she queried tersely yet rudely.

    “No, yet I’m suffering from chronic existential anxiety” Bill lied politely.

    “Well,I just saw Martina on her second hand Raleigh bike going to the

    market or the Charity Shop or possibly leaving home for ever….”

    “Well,I still have the cat here”,he whispered loudly as if he were free

    associating in a dream

    “Let me in and make me some coffee” she asked courteously,

    “She’s an odd one” the cat Emile thought naughtily.

    “Where’s my Carnation cat milk?”

    “Real or instant?” Simon answered suavely yet naturally.

    “Won’t it wash off your brand new coral lipstick from Chanel of Paris?…

    not to mention your factor 60 sunblock.”

    “God’s whiskers” she murmured quaintly to herself.

    “How does he know it’s Chanel?

    Is he a spy or what?

    Is he in M.I.5?”

    John got some instant coffee and debated whether to put in a little LSD to

    add some visions to their morning!No,a short breathing exercise would do

    he concluded after 9 minutes of obsessive anxiety.

    He sat down in his favorite old wooden Habitat chair having poured the

    coffee into some old plastic mugs.

    “Did you know Habitat is going b..b bankrupt?” she brightly stuttered

    turning pink with happiness and the menopause which so far had lasted over

    30 years.

    Suddenly Lucy sat down on Bert’s lap and began to kiss his right eyelid

    “Careful,my darling!” he muttered insensibly.

    He was savouring the annoyingly uncommon pleasure when the chair fell to

    pieces as it frequently did at such times, throwing the elderly but

    versatile and experienced couple down onto the new Mary Quant patterned

    pure New Zealand lambs wool carpet.Suddenly they heard the peal of Mary’s

    bicycle bell.Shortly she walked into the room carrying 78 bags of

    groceries for the birthday party.

    “What’s going on here ?”she murmured seductively in a piercing shriek.

    “I’m so sorry,Jenny,please accept my apologies,he has this thing about

    chairs.It’s a fetish,I believe,according to Sinald Floyd.””

    “Have you got your mobile?” shrieked Tom agonisedly in a whisper.

    ”I can’t get up.” he screamed softly.”Am I dead?”

    “What cannot stand up must forever remain lying down” As my old philosophy

    tutor at Cambridge used to say,muttered Marty.

    “Why,that’s bit extreme,” said Jane uneasily yet gallantly.

    .”MY tutor said “Who cannot speak must forever remain silent.”

    “Oh,who was your tutor?”

    “Elizabeth Ansconbe!” Amy admitted furtively.”She knew Wittgetensin well.”

    “Mine was Iris Murdoch!” called out Alf.

    Later they heard a silent siren.It was the emergency ambulance.

    Dick,the paramedic bounded into the room.

    “It’s this chair” said Marie urbanely.

    “Can you mend it for me? My husband can’t manage without it!”

    “Anything else,madam?” Rick queried anxiously.

    “Any coal to fetch in,tins to open,blocked toilets?”

    “Later maybe.”

    Danny looked at Joan.

    “Your eyes look like two deep pools in the Caspian sea.”

    he whispered into her left ear.

    “Are you on another creative writing course?”she quipped urbanely.

    “Yes, we’re on eyes at the moment;what colour is that eyeshadow you have

    on.”

    “This is called winter teal” She admitted uneasily yet seductively.

    “Did you know I’m a transvestite?” he admitted happily her.

    “Yes”,she replied dishonestly.Kitty like to give an impression of

    omniscience owing to her ontological insecurity and her ignorance of

    theology and also her narrowly trained mathematical mind.

    Unfortunately that frequently gave men the wrong impression.

    Mamie cried out to Al,

    “Get on with it,my sweetie!” So he took out a big tube of glue from his

    jeans’ pocket and set to work reconstructing the chair.

    “Oh,dear,Stewart looks a bit odd”

    “!No,he looks quite prime to me.”

    “Is he an integer?!”

    “No, he’s a transcendental real number”

    “He’s a number all right.”

    “Never mind,we’ve just got new wheelie bins so I’ll put him out with the

    rubbish,”

    Marty joked on hearing Amy’s remarks to Zach.

    But Simon was not yet dead.He merely had fallen asleep.

    He dreamed of his days at Oxgridge University studying illogic and unreason

    with Rudolphina Catnap,the famous female philosopher.Oh,happy,happy days!

    Danny made the ladies some Ceylon tea in the fabulous oak kitchen with its

    pure linen curtains in raspberry beige. and its black enamel sink with

    matching double oven and microwave.”Why no halogen?”Iris Murdoch might

    have asked.

    “What is a human life,”he pondered.He was studying logic as well as writing.

    He began to tremble like a leaf in the wind to use a freshly recycled old

    cliche.

    “Help” he called,”I’m having a panic attack.Hurry I’m dying,I believe.I

    need a priest“

    “You can’t have a panic attack,” shouted Marianne

    “Paramedics heal themselves.”

    “Does God heal those who heal themselves he wondered as he lay under a pile

    of broken china?”

    “Where’s the tea?” called the ladies.

    Ah,if only Wittgenstein were here,he would know,thought Emile.

    But I disagree.Only God would know that and He won’t say usually as he

    speaks another language known only to the few.Though sometimes one may

    hear it on the wind deep in a thick forest.

    That’s what I believe.

    Here endeth the first lesson… so be off!

  • How does your handwriting look now?

    Like an inky beetle crawling across white paper

    following a map or wandering haphazardly

    Across some page?

    From colored inner space come different dreams,

    And images swimming like fish

    within our inner seas.

    But, essentially, it’s love that fills our hearts,

    Directs the movements of our hands.

    Yet love can twist,stretch, bend and snap.

    Sometimes love fails,

    Sometimes love wounds,

    Sometimes love gives pain.

    Oh, my Love…

    But deep inside,goodwill prevails.

    Good will come again..

    I do not doubt.

    Don’t doubt,my love.

    Love lost…

    Love found….

    Love will remain.

    .

About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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