LANGUAGE OF WINTER GEESE

I have done work on this, altering some phrases and bringing in a new verse,the penultimate one.I am saying that though we may use the language we were born into we can use it in new ways,maybe creating a completely new vision or description of our worlds.Or we may even invent new words but we are born into a society and a language which structures our perceptions and relationships from infancy onward
English is a very rich language as it has been formed out of a large numberof languages of different peoples who have lived here [invaded] from the Romans onwards.Celtic tribes ,Ancient   Britons,      Anglo Saxons,Vikings,Normans,Flemish immigrants etc etc.We also have many words emanating from classical Greek.I think that is because until a hundred years ago Education,for those privileged to have access to it,was almost entirelystudying Latin and Greek,[ both language and philosophyfrom the works of Plato,Aristotle etc]It you wanted to do maths at Cambridge you did Classics first.So all those higher up,educated, wealthy people were familiar with these languages and the classical authors.They would also be very familiar with the writings in The Bible,but probably not Hebrew,Aramaic and related tongues.The Bible was probably read in Latin until the Reformation.So the English Bible is a translation of a translation at the very least.

WILD GEESE FLYING OVER OUR  GARDEN
Leaves have gone so suddenly
Small birds float on the wind
Like boats astride a choppy sea.
Their swaying soothes my mind.

Wild geese fly past at dusk again,
They head towards the North.
The holly berries glow in sun,
                                                     Holy is joy‘s birth

I gaze intently at the sky,
The clouds hang dark and low.
If I were just a  wild  white goose
I’d know which way to go.

But I am left with just these words 

To seek my own life’s goal
Words which  will convey to me
Wisdom from  the old

We use our words in unique ways.
We structure them to form
A new design not seen before
A new sentence is born

I throw my words with love towards you
I hope you safely catch ..
Return me answers from your heart 
And I’ll do my best to match.

ON FALLING DOWN A FULL STOP AT THE END OF A SENTENCE.I can’t recall precisely how I wrote it this poem.It came from a strange elsewhere in my mind.I think it carries an interesting message……if you can’t acknowledge your hatred, if you deny it exists, even to yourself then it may cause havoc in your life.This does not mean l ofetting it rip either.It is very painful to hate someone you love.This is the dilemma of the infant and of all of us in li

I think I began to write it by choosing a long word at random and seeing how many words I could make from that.Then through staring blankly and in a friendly manner at these words a poem began to come into existence.It seemed to write itself especially towards the end.It certainly surprised me with its advent.I can hardly believe I have written it,though wide and narrow focus in seeing are of special interest to me.They first came to my attention in the book “A Life of One’s Own” by Joanna Field [Marion Blackett-Milner] and in her later book “On not being able to Paint”
Wonderful books, still available from e.g. amazon

Blind sight scattered my wits
Like whitened bones
Across the deserts of my mind.
I descended into blackness.

Love shrank into the tame cat
By the fire,unacknowledged hate
Grew to fill the room.

I stared too much,
A full stop grew gigantic
Crowded out
All the words in the sentence

I saw nothing but this dot
Now a gigantic black hole
Into which I was dragged.

An energy coming from my own head,
Sucked me into the black hole.
That place was the wrong sort of darkness.

Within that full stop,
Love Fundamental became invisible.
Disappeared into the dark.

I dragged my eyes away
And saw the moon appear ,eerie,
It shone,grey silver.

If I had opened my eyes wider
I would not now lament
What I destroyed in the wormhole
Of the black dot that drew my eye
Into a tunnel of darkness.
t blinded me to the light Did not let me read the sentences
Beside the full stop.

An error of focus left hate
Unacknowledged,unmitigated,unredeemed,
Kept apart from love or goodness.

Afraid to spoil my love with hate,
The fear of hate became
That which spoiled all else,
By freezing Love itself.

Is blogging a genetic trait?
I’d like to buy new genes today.
My parents never owned
A word processor or a phone.
So it’s their fault I lack genes today.

My cats are all full of genes
They still don’t know what I mean.
So I put them to bed
When they had been fed.
So now I have all their outfits to clean