Good Thoughts

What constitutes a Good Thought, Zoroaster ? Good Words and Good Deeds are easy to define. But a Good Thought is a less obvious thing.

Having examined most of my thoughts from yesterday and today, I have to conclude that most of mine are neither Good nor Bad. Here are some random examples. " This is the first time I have ever seen a peanut butter making machine" ; " I am not going to eat this Dragonboat Dumpling"; "I'll just knit one more stripe".

But, determined to discover a Good one, I thought back to the very first thought I had on waking, which I concluded was Good on every level.

I had been dreaming text. I remembered that the last words I dreamed were: THE MOTHER'S LEGS HELPED BY ANOTHER'S FEET. This is, when you examine it, an amazing thought. Why I dreamed it I have no idea. This gives the thought the first attribute of Goodness, which is Inexplicability.

The second attribute of Goodness is Morality. This thought is about helping someone. No one would dispute that this is a Good Thing.

The third attribute of Goodness is Ambiguity. Is someone helping their mother by running an errand for her? Is mother having someone else's feet transplanted onto her legs?

The fourth attribute of Goodness is Internal Rhyming. one cannot help but notice that Mother rhymes with another. This gives a pleasing sound to the thought.

The fifth attribute of Goodness is Unusual Focus. This thought captures our imagination by keeping all the action below waist level, but not of course in a crude way.

The sixth attribute of Goodness is perhaps the most debatable. The attribute of Not Really Being a Proper Sentence. Personally, I like that in an attribute.

La Matelotte

It's obvious, opined Pliny the Elder. I love you yet means I love you still.

Maybe, I said, but I feel sure there was a fourth line. It would have had to to rhyme with yet. I can't think what it could have been.

I can, said Pliny. How about this:

Mewsette , Mewsette,
My love and my pet,
I love you yet
I sometimes forget.

Pliny! I said, that wasn't it, but it's very clever. You've turned an ambiguity into an ambivalence.

Thankyou, said Pliny. And now tell me about La Matelotte. What is a matelotte?

Well, I had no idea. It sounded like a lively dance. When I got home I discovered that a matelot is a French sailor, so I guess a matelotte is a lady sailor. I didn't think they had lady sailors in the 18th century though.

No said Pliny, but a lady could dance with a sailor. What did the program notes say?

Nothing. Except that Marais, the composer, once wrote a piece of music called Le Tableau de l'Operation de la Taille. It was about an operation to remove gallstones.

I should like to hear that, said Pliny, looking nevertheless somewhat doubtful.

You can, I said. On YouTube.

Bacteria

Me: Was that poem any good or what?

Pliny the Elder: What?

Me: Was that poem ......? Oh.

Pliny the Elder: It has many faults. The reference to prawns in line one for example . One needs to have read the previous blog to understand it, and then, also the word order makes the meaning highly ambiguous. Furthermore the first verse gives the impression you were writing in prose and then realised you had a rhyme so you simply reformatted the lines.

Me: O Pliny, you are too perceptive.

Pliny the Elder: One cannot be too perceptive.

Me: What did you think of the second verse?

Pliny the Elder: I liked the ant running scared but could not approve of your rhyming bowl with bowl. That is not considered a proper rhyme in poetry. And I happen to know you squashed 3 ants that morning, not just 2.

Me: I was constrained by my 4 line stanzas. It takes at least 2 lines to kill an ant on location.

Pliny the Elder: Point taken. Poetic licence is allowable. But now to your final verse. Why did you run the lines on so? And your ending is extremely weak, not to mention that you omitted a final full stop.

Me: That was deliberate. I was cooking jam remember.

Pliny the Elder: Yes, but cooking jam is not indicated by leaving out a full stop.

Me: Alright, but didn't I save it by calling it the Poetry of Inattention?

Pliny the Elder: No. I really think you should have blogged about Bacteria as you intended.

Me: I know, I meant to, but Bacteria deserve more attention than I could give them cooking jam.

Pliny the Elder: That gives me little confidence in the safety of consuming it.