Poets, lovers, and lunatics have such seething brains.
lost and alone, dismal depressed heartsick
I didn’t want to get angry again so soon
I spoke with her in the late afternoon
and I thought I was now immune
you can blame it on the moon
I’m still just a bitter lunatic
blame it on the moon
It’s just the dark of the moon.
Nobody is perfect, even Shakespeare got his share of criticism.
A very close friend has just told me that I shouldn’t share my negative thoughts and feelings in this blog. She told me that I should always be positive in the things I write. She told me that I shouldn’t share so much of what’s really going on with me. She told me that even when I feel like shit, I shouldn’t write about that.
The things she said didn’t feel like legitimate and constructive criticism. To me, at the time, (a few short minutes ago), it felt like a personal attack. It seemed as though my friend had a hidden agenda, and was ‘getting at me’ about the things I wrote on July 26th, 27th, and 28th when what she really wanted to say was something else all together.
She is entitled to her opinion. And I could be wrong about everything.
But this is my blog, and I was writing about what’s been going on with me. As far as I am concerned I can write whatever I want, as long as it isn’t a personal attack on someone else, it isn’t obscene, and it isn’t unethical.
I think it’s perfectly acceptable for me to say that I hadn’t really been operating at the very top of my game.
You know what? I had been feeling pretty good today, but that conversation with my friend, about me writing posts entitled; Worrying About Life, Feeling very ill, and I have my problems, has put me right back to square one.
So, now I feel like shit again, with a big dollop of annoyance and hurt thrown in.
I guess that I’m now supposed to turn this whole tirade of hurt into something positive. So, I will leave you with this;
Why hoard your troubles? They have no market value, so just throw them away. ~ Ann Schade
That’s pretty positive. And, this is a nice picture.
jack collier email@example.com
I am what I am, and that’s a man.
Your feelings are not my feelings, and my feelings are not your feelings
your standards are not my mine, my standards are not your standards
your past is not my past, and my past is not your past
your life is not my life, and my life is not your life
you are not me, and I am not you
and yet we are friends and lovers
I had my share of nightmares
didn’t think there could be much more
then in walked Rodrick Usher with the Lady Elanor
only the moon and stars know,
where you got those pretty blue eyes,
that smile while you tell such elegant lies,
you must have fallen down from out of the sky,
you must be some sort of witch to torment a guy,
who’s unwise as to fall hard for your delicate disguise,
your every word of tenderness a tormenting sweet caress,
but I know just who you are, and I know your long goodbyes.
she sang me a starlight sexual lullaby,
a thousand times, or maybe more,
and in the end, she didn’t care
There are two people in your life you should never lie to
Lying to ‘Plod’ is almost never a good idea.
It seems had occasion to use the word ‘Plod’ a couple of days ago, and in my version of the English language ‘Plod’ means the Police. And then I started to think just how many other words we English have for a policeman, or the police in general. Turns out there’s quite a lot.
- the Bill ~ a shortened form of ‘the Old Bill’.
- Bizzies ~ a Scouse word, (from Liverpool), meaning the police are always too busy to spend time investigating ordinary crime affecting ordinary people.
- Bluebottle ~ from Cockney Rhyming slang ‘bottle and glass’ meaning arse.
- Bobby ~ Sir Robert Peel established the Metropolitan Police in 1829, and Bobby is a short form of Robert. (Also see Peelers.)
- the Boys in Blue ~ Self-explanatory, the police wear blue uniforms.
- Constable ~ a word from English medieval times when a constable was a King’s officer of the peace in armies and castles. English policemen aren’t officers, they’re constables.
- Copper ~ an old English word meaning ‘someone who captures’ ~ weird, I thought it had to do with a constable’s badge.
- the Cops ~ from ‘Copper’.
- Crusher ~ English Victorian slang, from ‘beetle crushers’ a slang name for the heavy boots Victorian policemen wore.
- Cuntstubble ~ a very derogatory modern term for a female police constable.
- the Filth ~ no idea what the etymology for that is, but it’s a pretty derogatory word.
- the Fuzz ~ again I have no idea what the etymology for that is, but it’s another derogatory word.
- The Heat ~ said to refer to the red lights some police vehicles carried ~ I doubt that very much.
- the Law ~ obvious. But also a shortened form of ‘the Long Arm of the Law’. Like Canadian Mounties the British police always get their man ~ eventually.
- the Met ~ London’s Metropolitan Police ~ the largest police force in England.
- the Narcs ~ an undercover narcotics agent ~ also a police informant.
- the Old Bill ~ who really knows? It’s a strictly London term, and I suspect it’s some very nasty cockney rhyming slang.
- the Pigs ~ just derogatory and originating in 19th century England.
- Peelers ~ From Sir Robert Peel ~ see Bobby above.
- Plod ~ Mr. Plod the Policeman is a character in Enid Blyton’s Noddy books. But if you’ve ever seen an older policeman walking, then you’ll agree that they do plod along.
- Polis ~ Scottish / Glaswegian slang, and if you’ve ever heard a real Glaswegian talk you’ll know why they say Polis for Police.
- Rozzers ~ 19th century English slang of mostly unknown etymology. It may be from Polari slang, (homosexual slang).
- Scotland Yard ~ this was where the police force was first established in London on October 6th 1829. (Great Scotland Yard at the rear of 4 Whitehall Place). The headquarters of the Met. are always called Scotland Yard, (now New Scotland Yard).
- the Sweeny ~ cockney rhyming slang ~ ‘Sweeny Todd’ = ‘Flying Squad’ The Flying Squad is an elite arm of London’s Metropolitan Police, the Met.
- the Thin Blue Line ~ describing all that’s between the ordinary populace and anarchy.
- Woodentop or Woody ~ a uniformed police officer, a derogatory term used by plain-clothes detectives.
As you might expect, many of these terms are more than just a little bit derogatory, and the one’s that aren’t date back to Victorian times. Anything from London is more than likely cockney rhyming slang.
Of interest to my American friends, an Englishman would never, ever call a policeman ‘Sir’. That honorific term is only used for someone an Englishman really respects, for Example a very senior member of our Royal family. Sadly, these days not many Englishmen respect the police any more.
standing outside of 10 Downing Street, they are a pair of proper policemen, in proper policemen’s helmets
My muse as always, is Aphrodite. ~ Shakespeare in Love
my goddess of love, sorceress, divine spirit,
you were there when I needed you most,
when I was lonely, miserable and lost,
drifting aimlessly from pillar to post,
you visited in dreams as a ghost,
and as a goddess lifted me up,
for that I shall you worship,
forever, no matter what,
you live in my heart.
Aphrodite, Goddess of Grace and lascivious love of Ares ~ eternally unrequited
Only out of suffering emerges the strongest souls.
jealousy and doubt
the demon soul eaters
visit in the blackest night
darkness lonely frightfulness
another run around nightmares
of lying half-truths dishonest deceit
she was a dark witch circling the firelight
she made it so very easy, and my soul was lost
not all women are witches
but all witches are enchanted women
never accept a kiss from a witch at midnight
Life is out there waiting for you, so show up.
better, smarter, stronger
collaborate, persevere, longer
wanting, needing, dreaming, deeper
close friend, partner, motivator, supporter
purpose, planning, decisions, actions, deliver
balance, harmony, confidence, calm, peace, living
so lonely and alone no longer
just a solitary traveller, meditating
Just a small town boy lost in one more lonely midnight.
I had lost all control
I need to make true changes
torn and conflicted I had no home
I had been filled with angry resentments
California Nights showed me I need new goals
when night comes again, I’ll be looking at the moon
yet you know I’ll be thinking of all those California Nights
just one more lonely night
but don’t stop believing
To be wronged is nothing unless you remember it.
in the darkness of the soul’s resentments
the healing light of dawn still shines
as a thousand spiritual friendships
allow harmony’s true happiness
to heal all our inner distress
the girl riding shotgun