Open culture offers a lot of free courses and books.It is well worth visiting it
Lyra's a Bohemian girl She makes even dead men's hair curl! She wears vintage skirts And old blue denim shirts. She has whopping golden earrings And black fishnet stockings. Lyra carries a black velvet tote Full of the latest poems she wrote. Lyra's a Bohemian girl. She makes even her own hair curl. Lyra's in love with an ancient Emperor, His unreality does not prevent her. She believes she is an Egyptian Queen She sees Mark Antony in her dreams. As she lies there covered in face cream, Her unconscious plans more wondrous schemes Which cause her psychoanalyst to despair. About a man who isn't actually here. But the Emperor's mad desire Has set Lyra's Bohemian mind on fire. Desperate Freud got a bucket of cold water And threw it over this delirious daughter. He was,at the end, unable to maintain The distance and silence he claimed. Lyra made even Freud go crazy. Lyra is one highly desirable Bohemian lady
Radio plays Bach
We wait for snow to fall
I like the winter
The fire is hot
I look at Oldie cartoons
I am smiling now
Humour is the best
I can’t tell jokes very well
But I am learning.
A very old man
Gave me his seat on the bus
I must look fragile.
My hair is too short
I look like a prisoner
My man liked it long
I don’t like my hair
But I can’t see it myself
I have no mirror
Why think about that
When the world is so cruel?
I am not perfect!
When the so called “good” fall into sin
And contemplate the idiot shades of grey
What is there to lose and what to win
When past belief is thrown into the bin;
When there is no clear cut path or way
So painfully we wonder where to go?
How endure the skinless feel of day
As long the seconds stretch and love goes slow?
Is silence best, as what words could one say?
Who could begin?
He was with me then As I searched for a new place In which I could live But he does not speak He is my companion He wants to help me I don’t believe yet That he won’t come home ever. But I just pretend When I am with folk They tell me I am stronger. Oh,comparisons! Yeah,I need no-one No words of comfort or love I must be a stone. My stoicism A wonder to the heavens My dead face fakes peace.