In our street

Our Street was my whole world when I was little

Two rooms made up the ground floor of the house

They were called the front room and the kitchen

In the kitchen there was a bath

Because it was a miners cottage

We didn’t use th bath very much

Because we had to light a big fire to heat the water although I didn’t know that at the time.

Everything was as it was.

We used to play rounders in the middle of the road or the girls would play with skipping ropes.

The boys went to the park and tortured frogs

That’s how it all begins.

I loved our street and the cobbles and the ice cream  man’s  horse.

But underneath there’s always an element of fear

Lying in bed, I was afraid of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs

Why was I afraid when the stairs came up from the kitchen where my mother might be making a cup of tea.

We don’t like to think about the vulnerability of children even when they are not being abused. 

By today’s standards we probably were being abused

Instead they are teased like boys who were told, don’t cry you’re a big boy, you’re two years old. 

I remember the queen’s coronation in 1953 

We had a party with jelly and ice cream at tables down the middle of the road

I didn’t really understand why the Queen matters because we lived a hundred and eighty miles away from London and I thought everything important happened in our town and nowhere else.

I do remember Harold Macmillan saying ,you have never had it so good

I was totally puzzled by his statement what was it we’d never had so good?

Although I did start reading the times when I was 10.

For the previous 2 years I had read The Guardian until one day I asked  my motherat what was rape

She never replied but we changed our daily paper I can’t believe I was reading the times then it’s in ludicrous

There is something that wasn’t talked about much called print hunger where you will read anything even the print on the  soap powder box rather than just gaze around like you do when you’re small

What is so frighteningabout being without something to read?

Is there anything we don’t want to read yes the school textbooks

In our street the top half was covered in tarmac and the bottom half was covered in cobbles

It was because it was the meeting of two different parishes with different financial regulations or should I say different priorities?

Some of the men prefer cobbles, others say we must move with the times the motor car is coming we’ve got to get the roads ready for it

I didn’t like it because I like the little weeds that grew between the cobbles and the bits of tar that you can play within the summer

There was no contest in my mind but they didn’t consult me fortunately

I think cobbles were better for the horses except when they were  wet

No doubt I would have objected to cobbles in a previous era

I suppose I prefer the earth the natural world to the world of pavements and cars.

Thank goodness there were no motorways in the 1950s

We were content with our outdoor toilets and our washes at the kitchen sink.

Partly because we knew nothing else but that and what your mother and father did that was right wasn’t it?

That’s the end for today

Near the Chiltern hills

Near the Chiltern hills the River Lea

Dances like a lamb in spring,in glee

The water’s pure and sweet like wine, like sun

But all is changing as the river runs.

Industrial use and boats pollute the stream

The dirty water does not mirror dreams

At Hoddesden the mill destroys the scene

There are no Argonauts, no golden fleece.

At ancient Waltham  where the river  slows

I see the ruined monks,where did they go?

King Henry wanted money,wanted all

Soon  so soon,his dynasty would fall.

Then soon the Lea will meet the mother Thames

They run into the sea, the rivers end.

Is this the mystic love that some would like?

In the darkest shadow, hides the light.

When its moment comes the golden gleam

Returns our minds to nature and it’s schemes

The sea from the pier

You are smiling on the pier above the sands

The rippling waves stretche out like children’s hands

You look so strong I cannot comprehend

Your fatal illness and its grievous end

You were never  patient on dry land

You were living well and  feeling grand

We crossed the road ; I held your cold thin hand

  I suffered so much torment,would I mend?

I saw a fluid shape as dark it pranced

Through the open door it swiftly danced

With the  well known wiles of Tudor kings

Hoping they can make it on the wing

I learned with grief , it came to take you back.

Across the river wide ,my love, my lack

We must live until we die

Is feeling low to be admired

Is deepness good, my heart enquired

Superficial’s criticisd

For in the depth love may arise.

When we rise high then we will fall

Like the wheat when rich and tall.

When trodden down it makes our bread

It feeds the soul the heart the head.

All that’s good must be destroyed

Before it finds it’s true employ

Do not fear your death and end

For in the darkness love descends

We become the food of worms

Of Beatles and the things that squirm

But without these creatures there’s no lifel

0pen your heart and feel the knife

From the seabed to the sky

We must live until we die

Then in death we are the food off

From which all new things are conceived

Like the circle we rotate

Life goes on in every state

Ever in the sentence

Never begin a sentence

Be careful with apostrophe’s,semi- colons and death

When in doubt, leave [it] out Don’t end at an adverb,generally.But it’s ok if not too frequently Don’t invent new words.

They might mean something in another language Think about sentences then they will think about you,possibly Learn with leisure using audio books.

Pray before the beginning of a thought

Never forget brevity.

Nor levity. Be natural.

Leave out ad hominem, QED and ipso fracture.

A fraction of infinity is as big as infinity.

That’s what infinity means , honestly! If you are a genius, write what you like, but warily

Chance favours the double bind as Gregory Bateson might have said.

Prepare your mind before deleting.

If your spelling is bad, vote to leave the EU and learn proper English properly.

Never use a nom de plume if you like Brexit Croissants are being withdrawn from the UK asap..

Can you spell croissant? Well forget it!

I remember love

Hollyhocks,delphinium and phlox Foxgloves,cat mint, nettles,near by docks

The blind man breathed in air full of wild scent

His daughted named the colours now absent

High up on the Kentish cliffs we sat

Capel-le -Ferne I found it on a map We listened to this girl, we did not speak Absorbing by our senses,proud and meek

Now I recollect the details very well

In those dream like memories I dwell Snapdragons growing just beside my chair

I smell the scent as if I were still there

I may be blinded by the tears of loss

But I remember, love, our happiness

Eh bien,mon IQ n’a qué 65

Eh bien, mon I Q n’a que 65 ans et pourtant j’ai un diplôme de maths

Vous ne pouvez pas les acheter.
C’est ce qu’ils disent tous
Je suis un crétin, vous êtes des crétins, ils sont des crétins
Et moi?
Tu es un imbécile.

Je desire un moron pour mon lit~je suis enchante par les imbeciles comme moi
Je ne suis même pas français
Je ne regrette pas mon oncle est un topologie daemon.Quelque chose desirez vous?
Pourquoi avez-vous cette lettre dans votre main?
C’est un refernce de mon tuteur. “Ce garçon est tellement stupide qu’il ne peut même pas épeler Feck et il n’a jamais entendu parler de Sodome et Gomorrhe.
Pourkwa Sod em and Gomorrow? Je suis auntie bbc supernatural
Je ne sais pas mais je suis un analyst de classi sequel comme epsilon delta et Leib Knits sweaters,Ou est Kant? Kant est mort! Oh,non,non, je suis finnish, I can’t go on like this. I am Dutch.
Double?
Treble!
Kant aime Leipzig.Je t’aim frogs.Ma mere aime le chat et mon pere aimes ma meres.J’ai trois meres
Traumas?
O h Freud again

Or can we keep it sepia somehow?

Doctor can I have some therapy
I can’t like all these others whom I see.
I need to move to  better contexts soon
Gee, I sense  there is impending doom

Well, how much does it cost, what’s the  full fee?
Can you cure me if I work with you?
Will I need to dream in colour now
Or can we keep it sepia somehow?

I just say whatever comes to me
Free associations  cause us glee
I have been in therapy  before.
That resulted in the last World War

I still can’t like the others  but Freud said
Misery’s not quite madness when you’re dead.

Mary tidies up

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Mary was in her bedroom which once had been a study.There were books every where all randomly arranged
Shall I toss away “Functional Analysis “by Riesz-Nagy?I can’t remember it but it’s a classic text.She looked at her other books and found three rhyming dictionaries…. and Strunk’s guide to style.
Is American style the same as English ? she asked herself.I’d better read that.
When she opened her desk drawers hoping to find a ring she had lost she was thunderstruck by how dirty the white bases were.She sat there on her folding chair musing on this and wondering about Purity and Danger by Mary Douglas.
A whole jar of nail scissors and pens stood ,previously unnoticed, by the window.So that’s where they went,Mary thought.Things seem to appear and disappear disconcertingly at random.Perhaps she had never achieved what is called object constancy by Freudians which must not be confused with objecting to constancy.That is something quite different. that some men like to do
Mary had some clear polythene bags by her and Emile watched as he hid inside the open wardrobe under Mary’s dresses and cardigans.She found some shoes under her desk so put then into a green bag; the socks she collected in a white one and the pens and art stuff went into a box.
What chaos there was in the room with face cream and books on the bed and boxes of tissues and cotton wool balls strewn about.
Emile came out of the wardrobe stretching and yawning as only tom cats can
Shall I ring 999 , you look tired, he said mellifluously.
Oh,how kind, she responded politely in her delightful way
Soon Dave the transvestite paramedic appeared wearing a maxidress from Marks and Spencers’
Does that need ironing,~Mary asked him
No, it drip dries really well, he answered gracefully
I wonder if I should buy one,she muttered cautiously
If you go to your GP you might find you can get one on prescription
Do you think so? I’ve never heard of that before,she responded
Well, you could say it will cure your depression and grief from losing your dear old man
He will say that no double blind experiments have been done to prove dresses help women to feel better. when bereaved she told Dave cautiously
How about a double bind operation,Dave asked scientifically
What do you mean? Mary said philosophically
We tie ourselves together with string and then kiss and hug and see how it goes… one never knows when old
Well I don’t see why we need string.Someone might think we are a parcel and post us to China or even North Korea.
How about Israel?
Why do you think we’d end up there?
They have some great museums.And we could Wail at the Wall.
I could do with a good Wail,Mary replied as tears ran down her pink and cream cheeks.But I am unsure if one wails there out of grief or is it something more? Like sorrow about the Temple being destroyed.Why do they not get over it?
Well it’s rather like England and the Tudors… all those films and books as if Henry 8 th deserved such fame for ever
I’d prefer the Temple to him, said Mary fastidiously.That was a place of worship and beauty
I’d love to see the Temple.If only we could go back in time,Dave informed her.But the main point is Mary I love you so I must leave your bedroom before I die of repressed desire and lack of your tender touch
I am sorry Dave,I never knew you felt that way about me,Mary told him .Perhaps we should go to the kitchen and make some nice hot tea.And I just bought some biscuits from Marks and Spencers which are much better than any others I’ve had
So they sat at the pine table drinking Ceylon tea and eating custard creams as they watched the sun through the Acer next door.Why the neighbours had a laptop hanging from a tree nobody knew.Was it to make themselves seem superior?Was it going to be connected to the electricity so it would be like a Xmas decoration?Time will tell.Or it may fall off and kill some slugs and snails… isn’t life interesting

Whose the voice?

Weŕe born into a  culture, is there choice?
Ridiculous  to imagine a blank slate
We learn to speak from  a parental voice

We could not be conceived as was Jesus
When by some magic,Mary took the bait
Weŕe born into a  culture without choice

Who  can live with all the unmeant noise?
What to hear and what eradicate?
We learn to speak from   a beloved voice

Freely  once the Bedouin  camels grazed
Their black tents  in the desert now erased
We´ŕe born into new  cultures, whose the choice?

Once each hamlet had its different ways
Now multinationals  thrust on us  bad taste
We learn to speak  but whose is this new voice?

Grey fog freezes, noone knows the way
Looking round for God, we feel  dismay
We´ŕe born into a  culture of  whose choice?
We learn to speak   by mimicking   and grace

Evocation is more important than

In an information culture,
evocation is more important than ;
explicit saying  counts against us.
People need to be well
into believing
being educated is more
than information:
 the incoherencies
 what they’re saying,
the musicality
 of people’s voices
and intonations;
would get more
from them.
Effectively, psychoanalysis is
something other, not the coherences;
 it listens for words
that are saying more
It’s got something to do with  being;
it’s a form of listening,
not distracted by incoherence
but evoked by it.
Because it hears what’s underneath
Within or hiding.
Wanting to be found
But unable to get the words

The fading limericks

There was an old lady from Chester.

Who did not allow wounds to fester

When stung by a bee.

She charged it a fee.

So now all the insects detest her

This lady was said to be bright. 

So we used to meet up in the night 

She was no use to me 

For I could not see. 

So I gave her away for a light .

Although I had tried to be free 

She had a deep tie just to me 

I tried to back out 

I was right, have no doubt

But she tormented me with trained fleas

I suppose it is guilt that destroys

Without any sign or much noise.

We lose our own souls

We’re no longer whole

This makes me feel ultra annoyed .

Kindness is not always best

The world is designed as a test .

God will mark it at night

To our mind’s  great delight

When do we get a right rest?

Eternal the rest may not be.

I always long to be free

Eternity’s  short

That’s not what we’re taught

From lessons and lectures I flee 

When we get to the end of the road 

The fountain will have overflowed. The road will be wet.

Goodbye etiquette

Poor poetry is always a goad

True medical comments from doctors to each other

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Copy 123 ans colorof www915578_677494075723807_1586045350618218828_n

Art by Katherine

Discharge status: Alive but without permission.

Between you and me, we ought to be able to get this lady pregnant

She is numb from her toes down.

By the time he was admitted, his rapid heart had stopped and he was feeling better.
• Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.
• On the second day the knee was better and on the third day it had completely disappeared.
• She has had no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.
The patient has been depressed ever since she began seeing me in 1983.
• Patient was released to outpatient department without dressing.
0I have suggested that he loosen his pants before standing and then, when he stands with the help of his wife, they should fall to the floor.
• The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.
• Discharge status: Alive but without permission.
• Healthy appearing decrepit 69 year-old male, mentally alert but forgetful.
• The patient refused an autopsy.
• The patient has no past history of suicides.
• Patient has left his white blood cells at another hospital.
• The patient’s past medical history has been remarkably insignificant with only a 40 pound weight gain in the past three days.
• She slipped on the ice and apparently her legs went in separate directions in early December.
• The patient experienced sudden onset of severe shortness of breath with a picture of acute pulmonary oedema at home while having sex, which gradually deterioratein the emergency room.
• The patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.
• The patient was in his usual state of good health until his aeroplane ran out of gas and crashed.
• When she fainted, her eyes rolled around the room but there were no animals present in the waiting room

Sunday morning in Knittingham

Mary woke up at 7:00 to her surprise Her cat Emile was lying by her side with his head on the pillow

Gentle stroking his soft relaxed body

She said to him you are not a human being you know Emile. If your head is at the pillow your body is not underneath the duvet.

Oh that’s alright mother he replied; with my Fur on I don’t need to be underneath the duvet. To be honest I’m frightened about slipping down the bed and suffocating

That’s not like you Mary murmured. You are still quite young so you will be able to push yourself up with your legs.

I know such fears are totally irrational. But the fear seems to be real Perhaps I’m afraid of losing myself in you you he said thoughtfully

Oh that’s stuff about psychology it’s not the pathway I wish to follow today.

Why don’t we have some good hot tea. They went downstairs to the kitchen and Mary put the kettle on and put the teapot ready to use when suddenly there was a knock on the front door.

I’m not even dressed yet Mary cried. Although my night dress does look like a frock

Yes it does said Emile. In fact it was better than most of your frocks. Open the door quick quick.

When she opened the door she saw a well dressed artistic looking man.

Hello he said I’m your date for today.

My date for today what are you talking about?

Well I joined this dating agency for older people and they gave me your name and address saying you were looking for another husband.

Well that strange I said Mary because I’ve never joined any agency. I wonder if if you’re looking for Annie my next door neighbour??

No I’ve definitely got the name Mary on my phone they sent me the email last night.

Well why don’t you come into the kitchen and I will make you some tea because you look tired and hot

We all went into the kitchen and found the kettle was boiling. Then Mary said to the man what you would like to drink?

I would like to NESCAFÉ blend 37 he said nervously.

That’s good because I have just bought some she told him although I don’t drink coffee myself but the cat likes it. My cat is called Emile :come and say hello.

Hello sir you devil. What is your name may I know?

Well I’m not certain he cried. Just call me Simon.

How old are you Simon. You are grown up you should know your own name by now.

Well do you see, I used to belong to a religious order and when I was older I was given the name Simon but it’s not the name that’s my parents gave me when I was born. That name is John but not many people know that now.

Did you join a dating site because you don’t know how to get a new woman in your life?

Yes you have guessed correctly I have no idea how I can meet interesting women.

Do you mean you know how to beat boring women?

Be precise I have no idea how to meet any women at all having spent 20 years in the monastery. Of course I used to have some nuns in the parish who we used to meet but it’s not quite the same is it?

Well said Mary how fascinating. Do you think God guided you to my door because I am a widow! I have been wondering whether to look for another man but since I am very clever some men are afraid of me.

They went into the living room and sat down on the sofa while they drank the coffee!

Simon very coolly looked at Mary’s pictures on the wall. I do like your Picasso prints he said

Would you like to come with me for a walk in the woods he continued.

That sounds delightful said Mary.

But I haven’t got dressed yet and do you remember that I have never seen you before so I would like you to bring two references from someone and notable in the area and I will then decide whether I want to go anywhere with you or not.

That’s not very friendly said Simon in a sulky manner

Well you have a strange story. I did not join a dating agency so I don’t know where you got my address from and if I was your sister you will not want me to go out with a man I’ve never met before I would you?

Well I suppose you are right. I am going to church anyway this morning so I will speak to the parish priest and ask him he will give me a reference

Yes I believe I have met that priest at a bring and by sale in the church hall. Yes you speak to him and then if he is willing to give you a reference we can have a date

Would you not prefer prunes the little cat cried.

No thank you said Simon. Thank you for offering that was very generous of you!

You are welcome cried Emile have you run up the stairs I’m going back to bed he shouted to Mary?

But Mary did not hear him because she was wrapped in thoughts in the kitchen wondering how this man has got her name and address. I think it must be Annie she though to herself because she is very clever at picking up men. And she thinks that it would be good for me to get married again or even just go to bed with somebody. Emile is not really enough company for me although he is very charming. If I get another husband then Emile may find a wife and start a family it will be lovely to have some kittens in the house again.

And she went upstairs and had a cold shower

And so will all of us

My husband brushed my hair when it was long

I ate an apple with some  quiche lorraine
Tomorrow I shall eat the same again
Boredom or monotony  is bad
I’m sorry but I’m feeling very sad

I like chocolate,I like double cream
I’ll soon get diabetes, intervene
Get the doctor here and I will weep
My feelings like the underground run deep

I threw away the beef  and ate the cheese
Don’t blame me,I  never aim to please
Of course I am a liar but just when?
That’s the koan, soon we will be Zen

We need skin  or we would fall apart
I don’t want to see Dom Cummings’ heart
I   never liked  his manners and his dress
Thank you,Father,now I can confess

Boundaries are also contact zones
Think like this and you will write a poem
Love like mine is precious do not spill
The  precious blood, the Body on the Hill

Stroking other people is so nice
I pretend that I have seen a thousand lice
Then I hope that they will all stroke me
If only it were summer  they might see 

My husband brushed my hair when it was long
Now he’s dead I cut it off with prongs
I want him to come back  but noone can
Like Catholic sex  it’s sinful  so it’s banned

He used to make the dinner every day
Now he’s left me I shall have to pray
Does God expect me to survive on grass
As a meal  after we go to Mass?

I gave him flasks of tea to  drink in bed
I read the Emile stories,Satan fled
When he smiled and nodded then I wept
Why did noone help me pass the test?

I washed his clothes as often as I could
8 pyjamas, hankies ,was it good?
In the end he wore a dressing gown
It has coloured spots on and it’s brown

 

An interview with Wendy Cope

Photo0316.jpghttps://www.poetryarchive.org/interview/wendy-cope-interview

 

“What do you see as the role of humour in poetry?

I don’t set out to write humorous poems it’s just sometimes my sense of humour gets into them – well quite often. As a reader I suppose I laugh when I recognise something – I think laughter often is when you recognise something is true but you’d never actually allowed yourself to think that or you’d never heard it put quite so well. I think it’s possible for a poem to be funny and serious at the same time and I get very annoyed with the assumption that if a poem is funny then it can’t be saying anything important and deeply felt. Some of my poems are just playful and could accurately be described as ‘light verse’ but I think in a lot of my poems, although there’s humour in them, they are saying something that matters and something that’s deeply felt and I don’t think…I think those things can co-exist in the same poem.”

The naked and the read

After dinner Mary and Stan often went for a longish walk.They liked to go to a road where the richer people of Britain lived.,where there were some Georgian houses and one Tudor house.
At dusk they would stroll by looking into the lighted windows to see how the rooms were decorated.And if the front garden was large sometimes they crept in to see more
One beautiful house they liked from the outside was spoiled for Mary by the garish tartan wall paper.
What sort of people would live there, she asked Emile who was in her handbag.with his head peeping out
Well,they have a cat called Percy, he mewed softly.
Why Percy?It is a noble name from the British past of course,she answered…
Earls of Percy were involved in affairs of state.
Well.Percy is a Chinese cat,Emile said to her wittily.
He ought to be called Hu Ar U then,Mary joked ,or tried to as her sense of humour was somewhat lacking or maybe just odd.Still she looked lovely despite her moth eaten clothes bought in Sales in colors nobody else wanted like purple and lilac and bottle green.
She and Stan crept slowly up the garden path and peered nervously into the empty sitting room trying to identify the paintings on the walls.
All of a sudden, a woman who was completely naked came into the room and lay modishly on a sofa as if she were a trained dancer.She was a sight for sore male eyes.
Are they about to have a drawing class,Stan whispered.
She must be a model for a Life Class or an abstract woman ,with cat ,if Percy gets into the frame,Mary mused
Percy might scratch her then.Stan muttered.She could scream.
Suddenly a loud voice was booming at them.
What the bloody hell are you doing in my garden?
There stood a big man in plus fours and and an oversized red jumper with matching cheeks
We were admiring your wall paper,Mary said.I think it is very unusual.
He smiled in gratification.
I chose it,he cried.All by my self.
But why is there a nude lady on the sofa,Stan enquired.
I am so annoyed, the man told them.My fiancee likes to walk around nude but she forgets to draw the curtains first.
Does she want to make an exhibition of herself,Stan enquired hopefully.
We wondered if it was for a life class, you know,students learning to draw and become artists of note.
Well,that’s a good idea said Arthur thoughtfully.
The woman got up and came over.She opened the wondow.To their astonishment she was Annie,their neighbour and Stan’s mistress too.Stan might have known but he had kept his face immobile after years of practise.
Fancy seeing you here,Annie whispered creatively in her sweet little voice
I am trying to seduce Arthur but with no success so far except a marriage proposal.
You need to be more discreet and indirect, said Stan.
If you act like this he will think you are an artist’s model and likely to be featured in the Tate Modern Annual Show of Infamy .Now, would a man like this marry or even sleep with such a woman as you appear to be walking around like Eve before she ate the apple?
I don’t know said Annie but my clothes are all in the tumble dryer,anyhow.
Did you wet yourself? Mary asked her kindly.It’s nothing to be ashamed of.We all do it now and then especially since public conveniences were shut down across the UK.And now ,even winter coats are machine washable.
Well,I knocked over some lemon barley water in a big jug and so I decided to wash all my clothes. while I was here as Arthur as a tumble dryer
That’s a very strange tale Arthur told her.You look ravishing hanging out of the window with your nipples pointing up.Let me take a photo of
you.Say,Cheese
But will you put it on Twitter,Annie asked anxiously.
No,dear.I am not so cruel.Why don’t you get your clothes and make us all some tea .
I can’t make tea,she yelled and without pausing she dialledd 999.
What is it Fire or Ambulance the lady receptionist asked politely.
It’s a kettle.
Is it on fire?
No,it won’t boil.Can you send Dave the paramedic ,please, as he makes good tea.
We are quite busy so it may be two hours or more she was told.
I thought this was an emergency service,Annie said.
But who defines what an emergency is? the lady asked her philosophically.
I will die without this tea,Annie informed her in a ringing tone
Ok ,hang up and I will send the ambulance now.
Arthur seemed a little surprised
I have private medical insurance,he cried.But they don’t make tea not even for old people.
Well,in the UK tea has always been essential to the National Health
But it will soon be drying up and we shall get flasks from the dustmen on Sundays instead.
I just don’t believe it,Arthur said and he then passed out on the rug which stood in front of a bookcase full of leather bound volumes of poetry.
Will he live?
Will he die
I don’t know but I shall cry
Awry then

Butterfly, goodbye

I know that’s how death will come, Suddenly flying into another orbit when I am photographing flowers

It’s not a gentle transition.

No-one will know where I’ve gone. One step wrong and I’m off the high wire

And plunging into the no safety net. Flying for a while Jumping into hyperspace,spinning electrons Startle my wide eyes.

Transiting the new black sun

I’m on a double gold helix,

Spider on her web,

Knitting furiously Into the future heaven on gossamer wings.

Butterfly goodbye, I’m off to see the stars. And the black holes.

No one will come with me.

I’m shaking off,evaporating into mist.

I’m a flying saucer on a circus mission.

I can’t say no to a new invitation. Make it fast and break with tradition.

Time is passing smoothly till that break In the music,

I’ve been transmuted into a different key someone else will play me on their violin

I’m a tune, I’m a thought, I’m a whisper in your vision. Goodbye,darling. I’m under orders Ready to leave for my performance On the electric carpet.

Death dancing to a tune on a violoncello, Arpeggionne sonata

I’m playing your words upside down In a new foreign translation, Accompanied by solo artists,ice cracking

I’m going in.

It’s too sudden.

I’m flying. Spinning faster to amuse the clowns, too many ups and no downs.

I’m going right out of orbit

I’ve broken the pull of gravity, And fly with pure equanimity Into my future life,

I’m off at some moment

An instant,a crack,a loud smack

That was me passing

The quiet voice of love

The still small voice is easy to ignore.

Why does love speak in this quiet voice

Underneath the bustle and the noise,,

Coming from it’s habitation poor

On the peak the frightened prophet heard

Hiding in a cave, while tempests shrieked

He heard God’s whispers, in this place so bleak

Absent was all life bar little  birds

Now we are cocooned with food and heat

The BBC controls the voices heard.

Jezebel is coming we must act

Lineker the prophet sends out Tweets.

Wisdom is a sparrow on the wind.

Listen to its song for we have sinned

You still live inside my mind today

It seemed to me, my vision and my mind
A template to project into the world
Brought you into being by my side.

I miss you, love, so slow the seconds wind.
I crept into the space between the words
I made you in my vision and my mind

Is there only chaos, no design?
Are we dust around the spaces whirled?
I bring you into being by these lines

I smell your skin and see your eyes alive
I move my head but you have disappeared
I feel both from my vision and my mind

Why did all the pit props fall down blind?
I crept beneath black coal, with darkness smeared;
A person alien to humankind.

Who fears death, when life is sharp and hard?
What means love, when no-one else is here?
I imagined you in vision and my mind
Reality is so much more unkind

Why not?

I’ve got writer’s block. Oh,put your head on it

I have dried up. Are you a river or a man?

I can’t write .You lie,my friend.You contradict yourself

I think I am dead.

I kept telling you to stop thinking! Now,stop dying My eye offends me

Oh,cut it out.

I’m blocke

Get someone to plumb the depths of your mind

What with?

A teaspoon will be enough

Should I pray? Who can answer that?

Can I wear a hat in Church.

Only if you are a Jew.

But they have a synagogue

You are so conceited you could get a synagogue on yours and a mosque as well.Or St Paul’s Cathedrall

You think my head is swollen?

Take some ibuprofen and follow the beat What beat?

The heart has its reasons and it beats as well

I’ve had enough Is it as good as a feast?

Don’t keep asking questions

Why not?

Just do as I say Why?

Not everything has a reason

Why not?

Swiftly say a prayer and then be kind

Anger,rage and fear camp in our minds
The thunderstorm means God has stubbed his toe
A misread prayer, a human  grace denied

Mother left the bacon with its rind
Father thinks the cat must learn to sew
Anger,rage and fear, in our small minds

The children bite the dog,is that unkind?
The old man passing thinks it must be so
A misplaced prayer, a human  grace defied

Many  choose strange  words  to torture  time
Paranoia’s useful,  as science shows
Anger,rage and fear, unpick our minds

I wonder if we’re looser as we rhyme
Or must all difference lead to exchanged blows?
An unknown prayer, all  goodness  man derides

I see I  have a very refined nose
I’ll kill you if you say it’s just a pose
Anger,rage and fear burn up our minds
Say a prayer,  breathe out and then be kind

I have a brother up in heaven

Our brother, Aneurin Bevan, we can feel your pain There is no fun, what will be done On earth, especially in Britain?

Give us this day our daily bread, Save us from  losing our free bus passes Forgive us our mistakes as we forgive those who mistake us

We unconsciously wanted the kingdom the power suits and the glory

Forgive us our naivety,

Save us from our own evil Amen

Now it turns as rapid as dismay

The sky is now pale lilac edged with dark
The   trees where small birds sleep are almost black
A mystic may enjoy a vivid spark
Through having senses other mortals lack.

The sky’s more pale than  it is darker grey
I see a pink, a blue in clarity
Now it turns as rapid  as dismay
Until  devoid of  such variety.

And darker still ,in grey it edges down
Until it’s less distinct from those large trees.
But  with my words  to keep me from a frown
Darkness comes and so my words must cease.

A mirror to the outer world in verse
May save  us all from  wintering with a  curse.

On the motorbike

There were three of us on this motorbike,
Father Dan with me,
And he had Jesus in his bag.
That makes the total three.

Transubstantiation, oh my Lord
I looked at his black bag.
Is Jesus inside there, I thought?
Should it have a tag?

It’s a secret never told
Father Dan gave it me to hold.
So I had Jesus in my lap,
No wonder now I feel a gap.

We zoomed off up an unmade road
As fast as Dan could go.
I felt bewildered and bemused,
I loved my Daddy so.

Father Dan took back his bag,
And went inside our house.
I got my marbles out to roll,
I feared I’d see a mouse.

So Three of had taken a ride
And after that, my Dad had died.
Father Dan said Mass today
Still with Jesus, so I cried.