For the Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,...
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain

Laurence Binyon
Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943), published in The Times newspaper on 21st September 1914

How many church buildings are there in Britain? When I wander about I love to visit churches. Some of the buildings are amazing and are an extraordinary expression of architectural genius. Alas others look like a box of Grey dull Lego bricks having collapsed and held together in ugly clumps. Often the interiors are a stunning reflections of peoples expression of faith and desire to be with their chosen God. Other interiors are plain and are warmed by the congregation's approach. Yet so many churches are shut to become demolished or turned into businesses or homes, their exterior hints at a past more keen at attending church. Some churches although abandoned by a regular congregation and have no presiding minister/priest/religious leader are kept open and maintained so that people like me can wander in and feel the atmosphere and marvel at the buildings existence. I think we should all say a prayer in thanks giving for places that we can sit and be peaceful in. Have a lovely day x

William Golding 1911 - 1993

POZZO:

(with magnanimous gesture). Let's say no more about it. (He jerks the rope.) Up pig! (Pause.) Every time he drops he falls asleep. (Jerks the rope.) Up hog! (Noise of Lucky getting up and picking up his baggage. Pozzo jerks the rope.) Back! (Enter Lucky backwards.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Turn! (Lucky turns. To Vladimir and Estragon, affably.) Gentlemen, I am happy to have met you. (Before their incredulous expression.) Yes yes, sincerely happy. (He jerks the rope.) Closer! (Lucky advances.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Yes, the road seems long when one journeys all alone for . . . (he consults his watch) . . . yes . . . (he calculates) . . . yes, six hours, that's right, six hours on end, and never a soul in sight. (To Lucky.) Coat! (Lucky puts down the bag, advances, gives the coat, goes back to his place, takes up the bag.) Hold that! (Pozzo holds out the whip. Lucky advances and, both his hands being occupied, takes the whip in his mouth, then goes back to his place. Pozzo begins to put on his coat, stops.) Coat! (Lucky puts down the bag, basket and stool, helps Pozzo on with his coat, goes back to his place and takes up bag, basket and stool.) Touch of autumn in the air this evening. (Pozzo finishes buttoning up his coat, stoops, inspects himself, straightens up.) Whip! (Lucky advances, stoops, Pozzo snatches the whip from his mouth, Lucky goes back to his place.) Yes, gentlemen, I cannot go for long without the society of my likes (he puts on his glasses and looks at the two likes) even when the likeness is an imperfect one. (He takes off his glasses.) Stool! (Lucky puts down bag and basket, advances, opens stool, puts it down, goes back to his place, takes up bag and basket.) Closer! (Lucky puts down bag and basket, advances, moves stool, goes back to his place, takes up bag and basket. Pozzo sits down, places the butt of his whip against Lucky's chest and pushes.) Back! (Lucky takes a step back.) Further! (Lucky takes another step back.) Stop! (Lucky stops. To Vladimir and Estragon.) That is why, with your permission, I propose to dally with you a moment, before I venture any further. Basket! (Lucky advances, gives the basket, goes back to his place.) The fresh air stimulates the jaded appetite. (He opens the basket, takes out a piece of chicken and a bottle of wine.) Basket! (Lucky advances, picks up the basket and goes back to his place.) Further! (Lucky takes a step back.) He stinks. Happy days!

A wee bit more of Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett...

Trolls and Bullies

There is a subculture of trolls who create internet accounts just to be nasty. They think it to be very amusing, intelligent and their freedom of expression to write what ever they like regardless of what relevance it has to the conversation. Also we live in a world of Internet Bullies who think they have a monopoly on freedom of speech and whatever they write should not be contradicted or else their writing becomes the most vile and hurtful documents of undigested hate. I pray for a kinder more understanding world.

Solidarity with the People of Poland

I wrote to the Polish Embassy giving my support to them and the Polish people living in Britain and this was their reply:
Dear Mr Lindsay,

Thank you for your message of support and solidarity with the Polish community in the UK.

We too are shocked and deeply concerned by the recent incidents of xenophobic abuse directed against the Polish community and other UK residents of migrant heritage. The Polish Embassy is in contact with relevant institutions, and local police are already investigating the two most widely reported cases in Hammersmith, London, and Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire.

We call on all who fall victim of xenophobic abuse and on all witnesses to report such incidents to local authorities.

Yours sincerely,

Embassy of the Republic of Poland in London

Support the Polish people, wonderful allies of the UK

Let us all send a message of support to the Polish people that we are not like the horrible people who send hate filled messages to these wonderful allies of the UK. They stood shoulder to shoulder with the British during their darkest hour in World War 2 and have been staunch friends of Britain. Let us send a message that we deplore this reprehensible action by a few ignorant louts who pretend to stand for the Banner of Britain. The Polish deserve to be clad in the Union Flag and made special noble friends of the UK. The e-mail address of the Polish Embassy is london@msz.gov.pl

Scottish Parliament might Veto Brexit

An interesting development from Scotland: Nicola Sturgeon has warned that the Scottish Parliament will try and block the UK leaving the EU using an obscure legal mechanism even if it infuriates the English.
The First Minister said Brexit requires a legislative consent motion (LCM) from the Scottish Parliament as it impacts directly on Holyrood’s devolved responsibilities.
She confirmed that SNP MSPs would seek to block any such motion, even if this meant that this blocked the UK from leaving the EU, because this would reflect the overwhelming Remain vote in Scotland.

One of my favourite second-hand book shops is closing in October. I am so sad about it as it is a brilliant shop with many wonderful second hand books. Its lease is running out in October 2016 and is forced to sell each book for a £1. Halcyon Books is in Greenwich and I have been going there for nearly 30 years.

Cheerio EU

What now for dear old GB? The ramifications of Leave will drive the lovely English mad. Scotland and Ireland will leave. I will become a migrant and all the English people in Spain will return. Dear old England might break into a federal system and what of Wales? I just hope England does not fall into revolution as there are a lot of very angry people about. There are Brexiteers who are regretting their decision bless them, cast a vote without thinking then regret it. We are certainly living in interesting times.

Scary opera

If you want to watch a scary opera then Bluebeard's Castle by Bartok is the one. I have just finished watching the Solti version. The music is scintelating the singing is fantastic....but take care.... don't open the 7th door.....

I think most people are terrific. Sometimes you have to get past their initial reticence but beyond that I have enjoyed a fun time and a good laugh with many people I only knew a moment earlier. Thank God for Churches, Pubs, places of work, Shops, Bus stops and anywhere else you meet people. Without a shadow of a doubt most people are great.

We shall overcome, we shall overcome,
We shall overcome someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We shall overcome someday.

The Lord will see us through, The Lord will see us through,
The Lord will see us through someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We shall overcome someday.

We're on to victory, We're on to victory,
We're on to victory someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We're on to victory someday.

We'll walk hand in hand, we'll walk hand in hand,
We'll walk hand in hand someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We'll walk hand in hand someday.

We are not afraid, we are not afraid,
We are not afraid today;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We are not afraid today.

The truth shall make us free, the truth shall make us free,
The truth shall make us free someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
The truth shall make us free someday.

We shall live in peace, we shall live in peace,
We shall live in peace someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We shall live in peace someday.

Do you know someone?

Do you know someone
Who is alone?
Could you be with them and make them happy?
Could you make them feel alive again?
Could you help them to meet other people?
Could you have the time to be their friend.?
Could you chat and make them laugh?
Could you show them that they have friends?
Could you get them out of their house?
Could you make them less alone?
Could you?
Would you?

Do you know someone
Who is ill?
Could you help with little tasks?
Could you help to make them comfortable?
Could you see they take their medication?
Could you see that medical help is provided?
Could you contact their relatives?
Could you provide first aid?
Could you sit beside them and be a friend?
Could you watch over them?
Could You?
Would you?

We live in country with many people who live on their own.
They could be your neighbour,
They could be a friend you hardly see,
They could be your mother or your father
They could be a sister or a brother
There are many lonely people fighting for dignity
There are many lonely people who have not spoken to someone for months
Knock on the door of your neighbour and give them the time of day.

Have a wonderful day.

I cannot write about hate

I cannot write about hate,
it is a language so alien to me.
The language of destruction a void of hope and
free from anything worth cherishing other than the void.

I cannot write about hate
that kills without thinking of the connection between humans and human worth.
Why kill and have no feeling or remorse for the act.

I cannot write about hate
as I do not understand its destruction of the heart
and its total ripping apart of senses that makes a person human.

I cannot write about hate
as when I do it makes me feel so immensely sad,
the depression weighs down on me like a huge tree has died and fallen on me crushing me into the ground.

I cannot write about hate
as when I do some of those barbs that scratch and gnaw and destroy begin to  enter into me,
they burrow into my head and fester.

I cannot write about hate
as more the festering bile wells up within me I become the hate that destroys without feeling, that destroys without any notion of decency, that destroys without any emotion or sense of wrong.

I cannot write about hate
because the hate takes over and destroys all the atoms of love and kindness and gentleness and delicateness that being a human being needs.

I cannot write about hate because I become Hate.

GRAHAM C LINDSAY

Jo Cox 1974- 2016 RIP. They should really cancel the referendum but if they hold it I will vote Remain in her memory. No election deserves the death of a human being. With her loss I will replace her vote. I respected her as a decent human being who stood for policies that I did not always agree with but she deserves to have her vote count. For once, and I vote in every election available, I will give her my vote, as I will still be alive and she will not. This is not out of emotion this is standing up for decency and marking my colours to the mast; that we will not put up with people murdering our elected officials. I vote remain because she would have voted remain. In this I use her vote as a demonstration that our democracy has meaning and that votes and people count, that our people are a great people. I give my vote as a protest that this murderous action has lost us an amazing talent that people from all walks of life and politics recognises. Democracy to me is about expressing an ideal for all sides and I for once will let someone who lost their chance through no fault of their own have their vote. I believe in doing the selfless act and in doing so mark my tribute to lost potential. I doubt that one vote will make a difference to the overall result. I stand my ground and use this one vote as a blazon for Jo Cox.

3 Poems

Early Space Travel

There was an old woman tossed up in a basket
Nineteen times as high as the moon;
Where she was going I couldn't but ask it,...
For in her hand she carried a broom.

Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I,
O whither, O whither, O whither so high,
To brush the cobwebs off the sky!
Shall I go with thee? Aye, by and by.

ANON

The Hiccup Fairy

'Twas the Hiccup Fairy,
That hiccetycupping blonde,
'Twas the Hiccup Fairy,...
Touched me (hiccup) with her wand,
So for every hiccup
I gave her a kick up -
She landed in Belchy Pond.

ADRIAN MITCHELL

A Farm Picture

Through the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,
A sunlit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding;
And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away.

WALT WHITMAN

Stop selling automatic weapons

Oh dear I was reading about the man who killed all those people in Orlando. It Is tragic to think that this murderous event could have been so easily avoided. Its time that shops in the US refused to sell automatic weapons and politicians had the courage and created a new amendment that banned automatic weapons being sold to the public. There is absolutely no reason why a member of the public should have automatic weapons. If there is no courage and commitment against these weapons then the same thing will happen again.

We in the UK unite with the people of Orlando so that we stand shoulder to shoulder with people who have lost family and friends.
May the sadness of this dreadful event bring us closer in friendship and unite our countries against guns and terrorism.

why kill?
why take a gun?
and fire it at people?
why murder people?
What possible reason makes people kill?

What stops a person talking?
If something annoys talk it out
Why has the gun got to be the conversation?
Why cant people talk together?

A human life is worth more than dogma
A human life is precious beyond words
A human life is a gift to be savoured
A human life is god given

I hope that one day we can love and not hate.

I am Twit
Twit I am
Am I Twit
I am Twit

Where can I go
Go where can I
I go where can
Can I go where
Where can I go

My heart is not there
There my heart is not
Not there my heart is
Is not there my heart
Heart is not there my
My heart is not there

There must be some truth here
Here there must be some truth
Truth here there must be some
Some truth here there must be
Be some truth here there must
Must be some truth here there
There must be some truth here

What is there to do right now
Now what is there to do right
Right now what is there to do
Do right now what is there to
To do right now what is there
There to do right now what is
Is there to do right now what
What is there to do right now

Stand up stretch out get up and Sing
Sing stand up stretch out get up and
And sing stand up stretch out get up
Up and sing stand up stretch out get
Get up and sing stand up stretch out
Out get up and sing stand up stretch
Stretch out get up and sing stand up
Up Stretch out get up and sing stand
Stand up stretch out get up and Sing

GRAHAM C LINDSAY

What's on your mind?.....So what does this site want me to say? Is it a stream of consciousness that results in some elements of humour and a daily diary of events. Life is not all Ha Ha He He Ho Ho but without people, who come into our lives in their many different guises, we would be much less. Have a lovely day.

WALTER DE LA MARE from Tartary

If I were Lord of Tartary,
Myself, and me alone,
My bed should be of ivory,
Of beaten gold my throne;
And in my court should peacocks flaunt,
And in my forests tigers haunt,
And in my pools great fishes slant
Their fins athwart the sun.

If I were Lord of Tartary,
Trumpeters every day
To all my meals should summon me,
And in my courtyards bray;
And in the evening lamps should shine,
Yellow as honey, red as wine,
While harp, and flute, and mandoline
Made music sweet and gay.

If I were Lord of Tartary,
I'd wear a robe of beads,
White, and gold, and green they'd be --
And small and thick as seeds;
And ere should wane the morning star,
I'd don my robe and scimitar.
And zebras seven should draw my car
Through Tartary's dark gleades.

Lord of the fruits of Tartary.
Her rivers silver-pale!
Lord of the hills of Tartary.
Glen, thicket, wood, and dale!
Her flashing stars, her scented breeze,
Her trembling lakes, like foamless seas,
Her bird-delighting citron-trees,
In every purple vale!

WALTER DE LA MARE

Today, I had a wonderful day. I celebrated not only my work mates as being my work mates but as the fact that they are close friends with individual problems and enjoyments. I bless the day I started where I work.

My House Is Gone

The rain is harsh,
The rain is cruel
The rain destroys
My House is gone

I sit and weep
I sit and cry
I sit in bits
My House is gone

The things I had
The things I loved
The things I felt
My House is gone

What can I do
What can I say
What can I be
My House is gone

It is not fair
It is not right
It is not just
My House is gone

My heart is bust
My heart is cold
My heart is void
My House is gone

GRAHAM C LINDSAY


I wrote this poem in dedication to people who lose everything due to the unloving nature of the torrents of rain that power down on people's lives with its unkind unfair and unforgiving destructive force. Rain can be an unloved hateful retched unrelenting murderer of possessions, the warm nest that we build up around us taken like a callous thief that cares nothing for the years of caring, years of love and dedication, years of life that has given many pleasures and memories that in one horrible hour of destruction through the watery boiling cascade of upturned river banks so feeble to hold back the phantom monstrous flood engulfs the nest of many wonder filled years.

five poems

The Christening

What shall I call
My dear little dormouse?
His eyes are small,
But his tail is e-nor-mouse.

I sometimes call him Terrible John,
'Cos his tail goes on -
And on -
And on.
And I sometimes call him Terrible Jack,
'Cos his tail goes on to the end of his back.
And I sometimes call him Terrible James,
'Cos he says he likes me calling him names...
But I think I shall call him Jim,
'Cos I am fond of him.

A A MILNE

Beautiful Soup

BEAUTIFUL Soup, so rich and green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!

Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!

Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,
Game, or any other dish?
Who would not give all else for two
Pennyworth only of Beautiful Soup?
Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?

Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beauti--FUL SOUP!

LEWIS CARROLL

Don't dilly dally on the way

My old man said "Foller" the van,

And don't dilly dally on the way".

Off went the van wiv me 'ome packed in it,

I followed on wiv me old cock linnet.

But I dillied and dallied, dallied and I dillied

Lost me way and don't know where to roam.

Well you can't trust a special like the old time coppers.

When you can't find your way 'ome.

CHARLES COLLINS

Hoddley, poddley

Hoddley, poddley, puddle and fogs,
Cats are to marry the poodle dogs;
Cats in blue jackets and dogs in red hats,
What will become of the mice and the rats?

ANON

The Witches

Round about the cauldron go;  
In the poison’d entrails throw.  
Toad, that under cold stone   
Days and nights hast thirty one  
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,  
Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.  

     Double, double toil and trouble;
     Fire burn and cauldron bubble.  

Fillet of a fenny snake,  
In the cauldron boil and bake;  
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,  
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,  
Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,  
Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,  
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.  

     Double, double toil and trouble;  
     Fire burn and cauldron bubble. 

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,  
Witches’ mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark, 
Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe  
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

     Double, double toil and trouble;  
     Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Macbeth

EDWARD LEAR The Quangle Wangle's Hat

On the top of the Crumpetty Tree

      The Quangle Wangle sat,

But his face you could not see,

      On account of his Beaver Hat.

For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide,

With ribbons and bibbons on every side

And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,

So that nobody ever could see the face

            Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.

The Quangle Wangle said

      To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, —

"Jam; and jelly; and bread;

      "Are the best of food for me!

"But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree

"The plainer than ever it seems to me

"That very few people come this way

"And that life on the whole is far from gay!"

            Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.

But there came to the Crumpetty Tree,

      Mr. and Mrs. Canary;

And they said, — "Did every you see

      "Any spot so charmingly airy?

"May we build a nest on your lovely Hat?

"Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!

"O please let us come and build a nest

"Of whatever material suits you best,

            "Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!"

And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree

      Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl;

The Snail, and the Bumble-Bee,

      The Frog, and the Fimble Fowl;

(The Fimble Fowl, with a corkscrew leg;)

And all of them said, — "We humbly beg,

"We may build out homes on your lovely Hat, —

"Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!

            "Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!"

And the Golden Grouse came there,

      And the Pobble who has no toes, —

And the small Olympian bear, —

      And the Dong with a luminous nose.

And the Blue Baboon, who played the Flute, —

And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute, —

And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, —

All came and built on the lovely Hat

            Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.

And the Quangle Wangle said

      To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, —

"When all these creatures move

      "What a wonderful noise there'll be!"

And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon

They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon,

On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree,

And all were as happy as happy could be,

            With the Quangle Wangle Quee.

EDWARD LEAR

The Johnsons had a baby

The Johnsons had a baby

They called him Tiny Tim, Tim, Tim

They put him in a bathtub

To see if he could swim, swim, swim

He drank up all the water

He ate a bar of soap, soap, soap

"Mummy, mummy, I feel ill

"Send for the doctor down the hill"

In came the doctor

In came the nurse

In came the lady

With the alligator purse

"Doctor, doctor, will I die?"

"Yes, my son, but do not cry.

"Close your eyes and

"Count to ten."

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

Out went the doctor

Out went the nurse

Out went the lady

With the alligator purse

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE When that I was and a little tiny boy

 When that I was and a little tiny boy,

    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

A foolish thing was but a toy,

    For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man’s estate,

    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

’Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,

    For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came, alas! to wive,

    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

By swaggering could I never thrive,

    For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came unto my beds,

    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

With toss-pots still had drunken heads,

    For the rain it raineth every day.

A great while ago the world begun,

    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

But that’s all one, our play is done,

    And we’ll strive to please you every day.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Twelfth Night

What is reality

God knows what reality is. Discuss. External physical reality and internal psychological reality is it real or purely a play of syntax. Wittgenstein spoke of reality being nothing but a game of words. Einstein stated that due to the nature of light we see everything not in the present but in the past. So reality is how we interact with words and light.

Be Your self

Be your self
Be the man,
Be the woman,
Be the gender
that you are.

Be open,
Be closed,
Be loud,
Be quiet,
Be You

Find yourself
Lose yourself
Make mistakes
Make some sense
take a leap

Open a door
Close a door
Stretch up and reach beyond your grasp
Take an easy choice
Move forward

Rip up old stories
Start a new chapter
Dive in without thinking
Question every step
Get some new shoes

Have a laugh
Have a good cry
Be gentle and caress
Be saucy and spank
Let yourself go

Exercise each muscle till it hurts
Laze until you fall asleep
Cuddle up with your favourite person
Shut the door and be alone
Make your space your own

Sing a song
Dance a step
Play a chord
Write a word
Enjoy yourself

You are wonderful and every action should be all of you. Do not be afraid to be you. Each day is a different day so have no regrets as none of us are perfect and mistakes happen. Don't suffer because you are a human being with sexual, intellectual and many, many divergent needs. Have a wonder filled day.

"Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties."

"Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to
conscience, above all liberties." Milton's eloquent argument for freedom of speech...are we losing our rite to express what we think?

The Cloths of Heaven by Yeats

The Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light;
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W. B. Yeats

To be, or not to be : that is the question: Mental Illness is real.

To be, or not to be : that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.–Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d.

I bet that each day a new Hamlet contemplates these lines; how many of us are going through depression and the meaning of existence and by a quick violent action we can end our misery? Mental illness is real and cannot be brushed away as a person needing to pull themselves together. Please have a look at mental illness charities today and see the good works they do and if you can donate. Thank you.

Pippin Hill

As I was going up Pippen Hill,
Pippen Hill was dirty;
There I met a pretty Miss,
And she dropped me a curtsy.

Little Miss, pretty Miss,
Blessings light upon you;
If I had half-a-crown a day,
I'd spend it all upon you.


ANON

Perjink

I love the Scottish word perjink. It describes a person who is very proper and decent but who has wicked sense of humour. They always are smartly dressed and has twinkle in their eye. Totally reliable. They are the salt of the earth and stick to their principles.

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! by Walt Whitman

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.


O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills; 10
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.


My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; 20
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman

Oodle in Shakespeare

Take a text and replace all the vowels with oodle. This was suggested from Twitter for my name but I will try it with a text. Since it is Shakespeare's 400th anniversary I will try it with part of one of his speeches.

Toodle boodle, oodler noodlet toodle boodle: thoodlet oodles thoodle qoodleoodlestoodleoodlen:
Whoodlethoodler ‘toodles noodlebloodler oodlen thoodle moodlend toodle soodleffoodler
Thoodle sloodlengs oodlend oodlerroodlews oodlef oodleoodletroodlegoodleoodleoodles foodlertoodlenoodle,
oodler toodle toodlekoodle oodlerms oodlegoodleoodlenst oodle soodleoodle oodlef troodleoodlebloodles,
oodlend by oodleppoodlesoodleng oodlend thoodlem? Toodle doodleoodle: toodle sloodleoodlep;
Noodle moodleroodle; oodlend by oodle sloodleoodlep toodle soodley woodle oodlend

oodlemoodlen

three poems

The Frog


What a wonderful bird the frog are -
When he sit, he stand almost....
When he hop, he fly almost.
He ain't got no sense hardly.
He ain't got no tail hardly either.
When he sit, he sit on what he ain't got -
almost

ANON.

I Had a Boat

I had a boat, and the boat had wings;
And I did dream that we went a flying
Over the heads of queens and kings,
Over the souls of dead and dying,
Up among the stars and the great white rings,
And where the Moon on her back is lying.
MARY COLERIDGE

A Letter to Evelyn Baring

                Thrippsy pillivinx

Inky tinky pobbleboskle abblesquabs? -
Flosky! beebul trimble flosky! - Okul
scratchabibblebongibo, viddle squibble tog-a-tog,
ferrymoyassity amsky flamsky ramsky damsky
crocklefether squiggs.
                       Flinkywisty pomm,
                                       Slushypipp

EDWARD LEAR

I thought that I would never see this situation happen in real life but. I was walking to work when I saw a crowd, a fire engine, a tree and a ladder. I nearly started to laugh when I saw the fireman descending the ladder holding onto a black cat. When he got to the bottom of the ladder a lady was standing with an open cat basket. The cat scarpered into the basket and when the door closed of the basket. we all applauded. The things you see when you walk to work. I couldn't get the grin off my face..