When I told my father that I use nasal strips at night, he was worried that it could lead to more serious drugs. “Dad, nasal strips are not drugs,” I said. “I’m not sure about that, but I do know that using nasal strips aren’t natural, and if God intended us to use them, they’d already be attached to our nose.” I looked at my dad as if he were from another planet. After a while, the nasal strips didn’t stop me from snoring and disturbing my partner at night…
It’s time for a little humor and fun with our unusual new words post. I’ll keep it short and sweet and let the smiles and laughter stand for themselves. But perhaps you even known a few Ask-Holes in the past and the memory of it leaves you shaking your head.
Our word for today is Ask-hole (noun) and describes a person who constantly asks for advice, yet always does the opposite of what you told them. 😳🤔
when from our dreams
life to empty shelves
a blessing to the seeker
for something else
and parchment sleeves
are poor disguise for truth
when given place –
a willing page or two
purpose bound to story
has suffered long the pen
as lifetimes passed
with will to wake
who for this
was meaning sought
line by precious line
what sweet desire
. . .
“When my daughter was about seven years old, she asked me one day what I did at work. I told her I worked at the college … that my job was to teach people how to draw. She stared at me, incredulous, and said, ‘You mean they forget?'”
- Howard Ikemoto
Brassaï – Pablo Picasso drawing, 1960.
Text and image source: Ravenous Butterflies https://www.facebook.com/120492754734710/posts/3667599523357331/
“A simple ‘thank you’ can mean the world.”
Again, one line, above☝️, with a little explanation.
Today, I was working from home, and spent the morning phoning most of my pupils families to check in with them, and make sure they were okay, accessing the learning easily, and generally, checking their wellbeing.
The amount of parents who said thank you, and even one who wants to bring something in to show her appreciation, meant the world to me.
I don’t need gifts, and I said that to the parent in question, but those thank yous meant everything. It is so toug, right now, as a teacher. We want to do the best for our families, and our students, but remote learning will never be the best way, regardless of how you deliver lessons.
So, instead of hearing gripes, every call was filled with positivity.
I can sleep with…
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At dVerse Bjorn has invited us to write about war. dVerse Poets – Poetics – War Poetry
“Only the dead have seen the end of war.” Plato
Whispering Suicide Cheap little saccharine songs for mud, manufactured jingles to make you numb to death, mixed ideologies competing for your mind, hollow promises for free, tacky coloured rectangles of cloth whispering suicide to the flesh of youth who dream of becoming, who are the heroes in this moral vacuum of life's bitter ebb, where are the children of this rancid death cult now. ©Paul Vincent Cannon
Mary Ann Evans wanted to escape the stereotype of women’s writing being limited to lighthearted romances. She also wanted to have her fiction judged separately from her widely known work as a translator, editor and critic. Her use of a pen name may also have been a desire to shield her private life from public scrutiny, avoiding the scandal that might have arisen from of her relationship with the marriedGeorge Henry Lewes.
Lewes met writer Mary Ann Evans in 1851 and by 1854 they had decided to live together. Lewes and his wife Agnes Jervis had agreed to have anopen marriage. Jervis had three children with Lewes and four with an unnamed lover . Lewes, having assumed the role of father to all the children, was unable to divorce Jervis but he and Eliot remained together until death.
Eliot was not what society considered beautiful however Henry James…
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The Sounds Of Loneliness
Only the lonely
hear the sounds of loneliness
the silence of no company
no one to talk to
the sound of a kitchen faucet
dripping in the sink
the never changing
ticking of the clocks
no squeals or laughter
the only music playing
is sad and melancholy
sad, lonely songs
for sad, lonely people
the telephone rings
but it’s a wrong number
or a robocall
about your car warranty
the quietness is overwhelming
nothing but silence
these are the sounds
~The Tennessee Poet~
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Senryu Kissed by the sunshine Rosy pink cheeks glow And eyes are sparkling Copyright © 2020 Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing