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Dr Sam Burton Oct 2014
Saturday is back

for you and Jack

So hurry and pack

Nothing to lack

Or forget something on a rack

Or in a sack

Eat Big Mac

Get some nicknack

Sleep in a shack

When it is black


Sam





Today is Saturday, Oct. 4,the 276th day of 2014 with 89 to follow.

The moon is waning. Morning stars are Jupiter, Mars and Uranus. Evening starsare Mercury, Neptune, Saturn and Venus.



In 1922, Rebecca Felton, a Georgia Democrat, became thefirst woman to serve in the U.S. Senate.





A thought for the day:



It's hard to beat a person who never gives up. -- Babe Ruth



QUOTES FOR THE DAY:



Avarice is the vice of declining years.

------------------------

Beauty is but the sensible image of the Infinite. Like truth and justice it liveswithin us; like virtue and the moral law it is a companion of the soul.

------------------------

By common consent gray hairs are a crown of glory; the only object of respectthat can never excite envy.



George Bancroft





Fortunately,psychoanalysis is not the only way to resolve inner conflicts. Life itselfremains a very effective therapist.



Karen Horney



"If you always do what interestsyou, at least one person is pleased."



Katharine Hepburn



"Keep love in yourheart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness tolife that nothing else can bring."



Oscar Wilde



POETRY



Last Night



Michael Broder





Idreamt of making sense,
parts of speech caught up in sheets
and blankets, long strips of fabric
wrapped loosely around shoulders,
goblets, urns, cups with unmatched saucers.

You were there, and the past seemed important,
what was said, what was done,
feelings felt but maybe not expressed,
signs randomly connected
yet vital to what comes next,
to a coming season,
next year's trip to Nauset Beach.

I woke up wanting to read a poem by that name,
and I found one with a lifeguard's chair,
a broken shell, gulls watching egrets,
home an ocean away.


About this poem


"I wanted the poem to enact the dream it purports to recount. If dreamsare wish fulfillment, then this dreamer yearns for some kind of cognitivecoherence. The s ense the dreamer seeks turns out to be nonsense, and yetpoetry finds a way of making it s ensible after all."
-Michael Broder

About Michael Broder


Michael Broder is the author of "This Life Now" (A Midsummer Night'sPress, 2014). He is a freelance writer and lives in Brooklyn, N.Y.

*
The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization,whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience.


(c) 2014 Michael Broder.
Distributed by King Features Syndicate





HEALTH and BEAUTY TIP



Applying Moisturizer

When applying moisturizer as part of your daily routine,make sure not to use it directly around your eyes -- this skin is more likelyto retain fluid, and moisturizer will make the under-eye area appear puffier.But do remember to use some on your neck and throat; skin can become dry there,too.



JOKES



Lawyer Joke



An American attorney had just finished a guest lecture at a lawschool in Italy when an Italian lawyer approached him and asked, "Is ittrue that a person can fall down on a sidewalk in your county and then sue thelandowners for lots of money?"

Told that it was true, the lawyer turned to his partner and started speakingrapidly in Italian. When they stopped, the American attorney asked if theywanted to go to America to practice law.

"No, no," one replied. "We want to go to America and fall downon sidewalks."



Pregnant



Seven months pregnant, my hand on my aching back, I stood inline at the post office for what seemed an eternity.

"Honey," said a woman behind me, "I had back pain during mypregnancy. I was bedridden for four months because my baby was sitting on anerve."

Then the man in front of me piped up....

"You'd better get used to it now. Once those kids get on your nerves, theycan stay there till they're 18."





Parole Board

The Bureau of prisons just announced the release of a serialbank robber who had looted over 30 banks before his capture.

The parole board says he is completely rehabilitated and has found employmentat his home in Prague.

Yes, that is correct...

They were able to right a bad czech.



Quick Funny or not so funny



I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day but Icouldn't find any.



Bad Timing



A parish priest, Father O'Brien, was being honored at adinner on the 25th anniversary of his arrival in that parish.

A leading local politician, who was a member of the congregation, was chosen tomake the presentation and give a little speech at the dinner, but he wasdelayed in traffic.

Sooo.....Father O'Briend decides to say his own few words while they await thepolitician's arrival......

"You will understand," he said, "the seal of the confessional,can never be broken. What is confessed in there to me, is never repeated on theoutside. However, I got my first impressions of this parish from the firstconfession I ever heard here.

Realize, please, that I can only hint vaguely about this, but when I came here25 years ago, I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place.

The very first chap who entered my confessional told me how he had stolen atelevision set and, when stopped by the police, had almost murdered theofficer. Further, he told me he had embezzled money from his place of businessand had an affair with his boss's wife. I was appalled. But as the days went onI knew that my people at this congregation were not all like that, and I had,indeed come to, a fine parish full of understanding and loving people."

Just as the priest finished his talk, the politician arrived, apologized forhis tardiness and then started in on his speech.

"I want to thank you all for letting me say a few words this evening inhonor of Father O'Brien. 25 Years is a long time. In fact, when he arrivedhere, I had the honor of being the first confession he heard at thiscongregation."

Now that is bad timing.



Have a very niceSaturday!
say my name
go on and say it
its the password
that unlocks
our hidden history
i am willing to tell it to you
if you’ll listen...

the vision you see is false
all that is real is what you feel
all this love
this ocean of dreams
seems miraculous
but you are a miracle more beautiful
than all the fields
blossoming in the spring
rising up from their trances
the earth dances
in spasms
in wall-casts
in masks
i speak to you
of beauty and suffering
the love we bear is unfathomable
a sapling sprouts from our shouting matches
so stash away your secret treasure
let others go like loose feathers
wings of the bird who resembles serpents
winged flowers
stirred with our fingers
and licked copiously clean
cleanliness is your virtue
vultures lick your bones clean
of this sad excuse for culture

your metaphysical sorrows are a bore
but your **** shoulders i certainly do adore
so much space i can taste it
and so much love i won’t waste it
for those who are wondering
the cremation grounds and their metaphors
are the tantric dance-floors of eternity
where the divine goes to boogie

have i told you lately that i love you
well i do
so go out and make love to the universe
make love and ***** the galaxies
until the milky way squirts amrita
across the multiverse
and all you hear are squeals and giggles
coming from shooting stars and nebulas
sri ram jai ram jai jai ram
i am that you are
so hung
all day long we run
for nothing
chasing nowhere
when you come back home i am waiting
elevating
awake and breathing
grateful to have learned your secret
and repeated your stories to the dawn
i am sworn to the opposite of secrecy
and will shout your glory across the heavens
J. W. Mar 2010
i see no ense in winning, as all success becomes regression,
owning ones life is to reach out and grasp and to catch only the wind.
strange, it is cars that bring faceless names and namless faces
closer to their finale in life than to where really we want to be
we hold a wheel, we push a pedal, it makes no difference.
inside ourselves we may be Lords, Kings even Gods and
here you see me in the world, on the half deserted streets
conjuring myths of control, no apparent ceiling to clothe my limits

no surprises with no mystery. no questions with no unpredictable answers, what a way to live.

safety rules this day, caution covertly dictates my speech,
the fear that I may stumble upon my dreams and realise them unfulfilled
takes my feet and nails them down.

i am a tree, rooted heavily into this soil
here I stand and weep for all that is stained with routine.
all that is tragically familiar comes forth alone and alone it remains with me.
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
Z
they came like a                     hurricane
wave after wave of         unceasing rain
each drop a smeared               false    reflection of
faces of friends          of family      we once did love

and as the torrential rain         spilled
more         of our people were killed
and the world we knew              quickly eroded
the iron in our bones broke     brittle    and corroded

drenched in this forsaken        diseased   sea
we become more of what     we feared  to be
as cold and      dead       as the death around us
losing all sense of        what was     right    and just

yet still   we fight endlessly         to survive
yet    still our hope    is still     stubbornly    alive
the dead walk.
Jackshit May 2019
P ressuring yourself
A ware of the warm truth
R aining around the lone wolf
A wake but dreaming of another youth
N ot happy nor joyful
O nly hurting in a dream
I n a state oh so dim
D ense with feelings oh so hurtful
Mateuš Conrad May 2022
i miss being a young man, in his late teens...
i don't know what happened to my 20s...
honestly: i really don't...
     i was out of the usual treadmill antics of
a boy's 20s...
    by the time i resolved all the difficulties that
can be associated with a psychotic breakdown:
women started telling their children:
mind this man walking past you...
man... man... i forgot being a boy...
        i was secluded in my boyhood of my early
and late 20s... i only came back to society: slowly...
cautiously... once i passed the mark of turning 30...
who said that they'd welcome the quick passing
on the tyranny of beauty? Plato...
   and who might add: the idiocy of youth?
    that bravado... that cockiness... self-assurance:
as false as they come? i guess i could be accredited with
uttering such words... there's this middle path
when life becomes bearable... after your 30s until
you hit 60... and then... those consolidation years...
  facing up to mortality...
                  not until then...
   but i miss the boy i was when i was 14 through to 21...
when women could and would mystify me...
when i wanted to pursue them...
           i was allocated the "tribe" of men:
women don't take a ****! women don't ****!
   don't be silly!
            they eat but they don't take a ****!
            don't be silly!
                     of the relationships i've had... ha ha!
"relationships": my grandparents (on my maternal side)
ended their relationship by sleeping in separate rooms
in separate beds...
   well... it was more of a fling: hell!
i had the chance to visit Russia for a month...
spend a month in St. Petersburg...
    visit the Russian version of Versailles...
         travel overnight to Moscow on the train
listening to Bob Dylan on the top bunk bed...
   managed to see Metallica...
      kiss the girl while everyone took out their
cigarette lighters when Fade to Black was being played...
i remember that song oh too well...
in my bedroom covered with posters of bands...
falling asleep to that song
   while dreaming of next day's commute with
the Ursuline girls... coming from... Hainault and beyond:
Debden... Loughton...
  
sure... she slapped me when she picked me up from
the airport... since that slap i punched
myself harsher... what was i going to do?
complain? she would have kicked me out of the house
and with as little of a knowledge of Russian as i had...
become a homeless person in St. Petersburg?
so i took the slap... i subsequently took it out on her
by ******* her for 7 hours one night...
i hope she felt a Spartan cohort of 300 having fun with
her... i hope i exhausted her...
i still remember that slap... i hope she remembers
those seven hours of bedroom antics...

i did behave in a "hypergamous" way... like a woman...
what are the chances of visiting Russia: these days?
i played nice...
                   i wouldn't mind returning to her to simply
slap her *** during *******...
but i was 21 and stupid back then...
i once heard a friend of my estranged uncle say:
slap her about at the beginning...
then she'll stay... i did that with my cats...
one of them was ******* in my bed...
i didn't know which one it was...
first time i saw **** in my bed i inquired
by slapping both of them...
the second time i caught the culprit! he was taking
a dump in my bed...
now? after slapping him...
       then washing him... then curling him into
a towel like a mummy and placing him in the sun?
we're the best of friends... he keeps slipping into
my bed from 10pm through to 1am...
i'd hate to do that with women...
     slapping a girl just to get some respect?
i don't need to: i don't want to do that...
i don't want to do what i did with my cats
to become translated to women...

              ergo? i miss the 14 through to 21 year old
boy's libido...
   i wish i could want that ******* Khedra more...
it has almost been 2 months since i last saw her...
i'm already due to get a haircut... and a shave at the Turk...
ergo? i need to trim my ***** hair elsewhere:
no, not the beard on my face...
   she stopped sending me selfies...
i stopped sending her pictures of flowers from my garden:
currently? the chives are in bloom...
pretty little purple flowers... reminiscent of
the Scottish thistle...
               it's not that i'm out of practice:
i just don't feel the need to feed the need for ***
anymore...
   i have lost the hunger for it...
     not that i'm impotent... but i just...
                 need it... sparingly: on a whim...
last time i was woken up from an asexual slumber...
god forgive me...
i was grooming my female cat... and she raised her
backside into my face...
i know! i know: *******...
ergo? i cycled like mad across the north eastern
part of London looking for a brothel...
i already knew where the brothel was...
but i cycled all the way to Tottenham Court High Road...
back to Stratford... £160 for an hour... pretty steep...
back to Goodmayes... £130 for an hour...

point being: when i was with this Russian girl...
oh man... sleeping in the same bed...
maybe that's why i never took relationships too seriously...
the sleeping arrangement...
it's already difficult sharing a bed with 10kg Maine ****
cat... imagine sharing it with a woman...
each and every, single, *******, night...
one side of me became: NUMB...
yeah... that B is a surd... it's silent: NUM' -
hello apostrophe...
                
because i couldn't possibly fall asleep not hugging her...
but by that "logic" half of me would
get cramps... and dead-meat numbing
effects...
   oh to hell with that!
why do all the rich people need so many bathrooms?!
you need at least three bedrooms!
one in which you sleep... one in which she sleeps...
and one in which you ****!

i miss being mystified by women, reading Stendhal...
that's not coming back...
too many practicalities came along...
me and a single mum?!
we're creatures of habit... before we are even
associated with politics or society...
man is a habitual creature....
by 30+? you have your habits...
and they are non-negotiable...
  
   personally? the most pristine distance to cycle
casually... i'd say... over the distance of a marathon...
so... 50+km... / 26+ miles... that's relaxing...
anything less is sort of boring...
that's why i forget the countryside from time to time...
and cycle into central London...
why?

a) i'm cycling in to... look at some girls...
   randomly... girls and architecture...
andy williams... music to watch the girls go by...
b) hmm...
           cliche, that point (a)...
    get ******* at traffic...
     being a traffic shepherd...
             elevated status of pedestrian...
   danger... leeching off buses and trucks...
leeching off ambulances... just the general
sense of commotion... people spotting...
bore and yawn and yawn and bore...
c) ah... spatial orientation...
if you start off at around Collier Row...
and cycle toward Barkingside...
and you take that B174 (Romford Rd.)
       route... you have that beautiful precursor
of a London skyline... and you start thinking:
well... i'll be there in about an hour and half an hour plus...

i found my favourite route "roundabout" today...
South London... i don't care what anyone says...
immediately: in the immediacy of cycling across
the bridge... London feels different in the south...
a little round around via London Bridge
and back up north again via Southwark Bridge...
and... whatever 20+ miles back home to do some
work in the garden...

****... no pretty girls along the way...
nothing that might stand out...

i know why i'm reluctant regarding visiting that brothel...
last time i wanted to perform oral ***
on a ******* she asked me to pay extra...
hell... if Khedra was willing to perform unprotected
***... because... the two of us...
are hygienic Nazis... i'm thinking...
slob... slob... the one time and place i can turn into
a slob... i want to pucker up my lips to those
other pair of lips...
but... i don't want to be paying extra...
i'm imagining... falling asleep on my stomach
and pushing my mouth into a pillow...

and hallucinating daffodils...
no... tulips! anything floral and the female genitals!
hmm... ha ha: yummy yuck!
maybe that's why i prefer to eat a rare beef steak...
lick, ****: but: if you're going to bite...
gently...

hell: if women can explore their sexuality...
can i, too, please?
i'll just word it... without having multiple partners...
but it's so much easier with prostitutes...
what dating apps?! never heard of them...
the money is on the table...
lucky for me i tried ******* for the first time
aged 35+ years old... and i was like:
i prefer coffee...

coffee an nicotine in the morning... first thing's first...
n'ah... nein nein... NO! i don't do powdered
crowds...
what m shift tomorrow? Wembley... play-offs...
whoever it playing i'm pretty sure i'll be looking for a
wife...
but i want my mojo back...
   i want to go back into that brothel and ****
like a 21 year old... i want to rekindle a hunger
for a female body...
          on the throne of thrones:
it really doesn't help... abstaining from all
that libido insomnia of over-exposure to *******...
sometimes... i tried a whole month dry...
it changed: **** all!
i need to be in the mood...
   i haven't been in the mood for about 2 months...

**** on me! cacas mihi on (take on me
variable wording ancients tongues etc.)
i fall back on something sinister...
Dante took Virgil as his guide...
    ******* from Horace! ******* from Horace!
he's mine!
i fall back on translating Latin texts...

Horace:

quid obserstis auribus fundis precces?
non saxa nudis surdiora navitis
Neptunus alto tundit hibernus salo.
inultus ut tu riseris Cotytia
volgata, sacrum liberi Cupidinis,
et Esquilini pontifex venefici
inpune ut urbem nomine inpleris meo?
  quid proderat ditasse Paelignas ****
verlociusve fata te votis manent:
          ingrata misero vita ducenda est in hoc,
novis ut usque suppetas laborisbus.
optat quietem Pelopis infidi pater
                egens benignae Tantalus semper dapis,
optat Prometheus obligatus aliti,
  optat supremo conlocare Sisyphus
in monte saxum; sed  vetant leges Iovis.
Voles modo altis desilire turribus,
                 modo ense pectus Norico recludere,
frustraque vincla gutturi nectes tuo
                    fastidiosa tristis aegrimonia.
vectabor umeris tunc ego inimicis eques
                meaeque terra cedet insolentiae.

an quae movere cerreas imagines,
ut ipse nosti curiosus, et polo
      deriepered lunam vocibus possim meis,
possim crematos excitare mortuous
desiderque temperare pocula,
      plorem artist in te nil agentis exitus?
    
you dare bring requests toward clogged ears?!
not so on the voice of naked sailors does the
deaf rock and not so during winter does Neptune
shakes his trident (three-tooth), like you with the word,
who so weighs himself by laughter serving up
Canidia's ******, slandering love, the holiness of
   Cupid.
               do you not call yourself the priest of
the Esquiline practices, you're not raving,
whatever the saliva will bring?
    haven't i overpaid the Paeligni(ne) witches?
do i no longer detect poisonous poisons?!
    even though the parks have extended your age,
you will feel death's pressure all the more.
Pelops' treacherous father Tantal(us),
emptied from the godly feasts, desires respite,
    Prometheus with an eagle by his liver lacquers,
without end, Sisyphus rolls the stone up the hill
endlessly - Jupiter doesn't allow a respite.
you're looking for an escape, jump from the highest
floors,
     with a Norico sword: a naked breast unravel
   (unravel a naked breast)
   or... tighten the rope, on the neck looped...
   chased by not-mind (misunderstanding),
with disgrace's stigma.
in the meantime: onto the back i'll jump on astride,
i'lll big back the earth - incredible joy.
wax(y) puppets will get up, into motion admired,
i will break off the moon from the sky,
    i will revenge satisfaction,
      i will, the dead and the burnt i will resurrect,
with desires' loving magic i will return tormenting,
these tears are for nothing -
      a phantom will enter the suicide.
are you still going to be able to
                               place resistance against art?    


of note:
- Cotytia - rendered Canidia in English
was the first witch of ancient Rome...
- Esquiline "practices?
   Rome was founded on the seven hills...
one of those hills was the Esquiline hill...
the other six are:
   Capitoline, Quirinal, Viminal, Caelian, and Aventine...
- the Paelignī? an Italic tribe - etymologically
associated with the words
    an cognate-mix of
       privignus (stepson) & paelex (concubine) -
most associated (wrongly) with the Sebine women...
mind you... step-parenthood was very prominent
in the upper eshelons of ancient Roman society...
- Pelops - a king of Pisa...
- Tantalus - father of Pelops...
- Noricum - a Celtic confederation of tribes
these days associated with the geographic region of
Austria and Slovenia

eh... language has changed so much...
how Latin didn't survive... i get it...
the modern tongue has many more prepositions...
a long time ago...
nouns / verbs could have inbuilt
conjunctions, prepositions... articles...
that changed with the atoms...
                oddly enough... certain languages haven't
changed that much... Kierkegaard mentions
this changelessness of God...
               English has changed beyond recognition...
******?! hasn't changed that much since
the 13th century...
how we managed to get Italian from Latin...
and... Spanish and French...
              well...
                      today i don't feel like being in awe...
Ryan O'Leary Apr 2020
When lockdown is over, the
threat of Covid has passed,
people will re-think their
lives, in particular, values.

What matters most will be
a common question as this
form of virus will re-appear
in differing forms in the future.

Urban/City living will become
an area of these adjustments,
money of course, how much,
questioning its importance.

— The End —