Month: September 2013

The 6 Most Shockingly Irresponsible “Fitspiration” Photos

Very wise post

KevinMoore's avatarReembody

The Reembody blog, up to this point, has been a thoughtful exploration of human movement, a subject about which I am extremely passionate.

Today, however, I’m mad and I’m going to tell you why.

I have been planning a blog post for a while on fitness misinformation, and it was originally going to be the same kind of thoughtful deconstruction found in my other installments. But then I read this and it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever found in my newsfeed: so beautiful, in fact, that the rest of the health and fitness propaganda floating around Facebook like turds in a pool started to really, really piss me off.

So thoughtful deconstruction has been postponed for another day. Instead, we’re going to take a good look at a few of those turds and get pissed off together because, when someone preys upon your insecurities in an effort…

View original post 1,993 more words

Why I am posting several poems daily

I had many of my poems on a site called HubPages.Two weeks ago they emailed me to say I was in their top 6 per cent of writers.Three days after that  I found I had been banned.They did not warn me or offer me any choices.I  had just posted a new  poem about finding your sacred vocation in life.

I think it may be because of some demands Google Adsense is making,I did not have ads on my pages but I see most  people do,It’s all to do with money

 So I am  moving my poems and stories off that site day by day.

Leave a little space for grace

 
Source: Kathryn
 
 

Grace

 

 

 

When you speak,leave a little space.
And I’ll leave a little space before I respond.
A space where my mind can gather in her nets
to see what your sentences draw up.

 

The inner seas call out.
They ebb and flow
Tossing treasures onto the shore,like
Sea shells where once your ancestors dwelt.

 

Sometimes it’s good to walk that shore line
with an empty mind.
The vast space of the sky and ocean
can be freeing.

 

Space for dreamers’ boats to sail.
to unknown and alluring places.
Is the wind fair?
It seems partly chance
and partly readiness.

 

When you speak to me,
I’ll wait a moment;
Then, in that space, my words will rise
to engage and mingle with yours.
Something new is born…….
Our creation.

Leave a little space,
A little space between us.
Space is the place for grace,
for the spirit to enter us.

Leave a little space for the unknown,unborn,the waiting.
We must spare a little space for creation
In between our minds.
The in-between is where life starts

With your meditative heart.

 You play on a clarinet;

I play on my  cello.

Your music is poignant;

My music is mellow.

I can’t play from your music;

You can’t play from mine.

Our music must be transposed,

But will not be the same.

I have longer fingers.

You have bigger hands.

You play some from memories

which I don’t understand.

I play from my own history,

You compose your own.

You have tragic feelings,

which I have never known.

Would you play my music?

Then it must be transposed;

but we can’t transpose our feelings,

Unless we are shown

how to draw out symbols

From the dark Unknown.

I love the music that you play

and I know you do love mine.

But can we play together

with a meaningful design?

Transposing keys and feelings

Is an arduous,lengthy task;

Much easier to play falsely

and never,never ask.

I can’t share your lifetime hurts

and you cannot share mine.

Is it easier to share happiness

and in love to entwine?

Oh,play your poignant music for me

with your meditative art.

I shall listen with my ears

and listen with my heart.

And then I shall respond to you.

My instrument is here.

I am playing  quite new  music.

I feel you drawing near.

Suddenly we are moved to play

A completely new design.

I seem to feel your feelings

And I can hear that you feel mine.

Together we seem to make a work

Of torment and release.

This music is so tragic,

Yet its design has brought me peace.

Play on,play on,for now I know

I begin to understand,

without more words or gestures

than those from your curved hands

The love song of J.Stanley Prufrock

 

Love apples
Love apples

Cat disgusted
Happy cat

Oh,Stan is feeling happy.
His wife has gone away.
She’s gone out to Australia.
She won’t be home till May.

Oh,Stan has got a mistress.
She lives next door to him.
She is very curvy.
She won’t go to the gym!

Her first name it is Annie.
She loves Stan and his cat.
She wears far too much makeup.
Her cheeks are very fat.

She wears bright coloured stockings.
Her handbag’s apple green.
She wears a dark red jacket,
In case she meets the Queen.

Stan loves Annie dearly.
He loves his wife as well.
What will be the outcome?
I’m damned if I can tell.

They’ve been in this threesome
 For twenty seven years;
Even though Stan’s mother
 Said it would end in tears.

Mary is Stan’s wife.
They only had one child.
Her name is little Lyra.
and she is very wild.

She looks quite like a tiger.
Her eyes are very sharp.
But Lyra’s a musician.
She plays an Irish harp.

Stan wanted more children,
But Mary went off sex.
She never let him love her
Except via a text.

She called him her sweet baby.
She called him little lamb.
Stan gets very angry.
For Stanley is a man.

He wants to join with Mary
Like couples usually do.
He wants to unite with her
But she always has the flu.

So now she’s giving lectures
In the southern hemisphere.
So Stan makes love to Annie
And swigs ten pints of beer.

The cat Emile is watching.
He keeps a daily log.
Stan has bedded Annie
Right there on the rug.

He’d vacuumed it that morning
To Emile’s great surprise.
The antics performed on it
Have opened Emile’s eyes.

Now they go to the kitchen
And microwave a meal.
Then Stan says to Annie
“I like the way you feel. ”

 

Stan and Annie have amazing news

Emile is happpy

Stan and Annie have been having such a lovely time since Mary went off.Stan has quite given up his addiction to microfibre cloths and polishing the windows.He and Annie can now make love at night and go out for trips in the day time.
Emile’s diary is getting quite full although he is worried he may be banned from sleeping on the foot of the bed soon as he may be in their way.How will he know what they get up to?

Luckily there is a gap at the bottom of the door so he should be able to see them in the mirror opposite the bed.They usually light the bedside lamp so as to see into each other’s eyes.
~Annie is a very bold,confident woman.Despite being rather plumper than is medically advised she loves her body and lives happily in it now she has true love.
One morning Stan goes down to make some tea whilst

Annie comes to.

“Stan,come here quickly!”

“What’s wrong,my little lamb chop?”

“I feel sick!”

“Was it those old sausages we ate up last night?”

“No,it’s a different sort of sick!”

“You don’t mean………..?”

“Yes,Stan,I’m afraid a miracle has happened!”

“But you are 55 and I’m 90.Surely we can’t have a baby!”

“Well,the ways of God are strange.” she murmured.

“I don’t want to bring God into it.” he riposted.

“Are you not pleased we are still fertile?” she asked

him humorously.

“Well,in the abstract I might be but in the concrete it

could be awkward.” he said furtively

“What do you mean?”

“Well,Mary will be coming back in a couple of months,you

know”

“We don’t have to tell her you are the father.I could

pretend it was the new Vicar at St Andrew’s”

“But he’s gay!”

“Not many men are able to resist my charms and skills.”

“I can believe that,”Stan answered lubriciously.

“But will you have to seduce him soon before he notices

you are pregnant?”

“I wasn’t thinking of actually going to bed with

him,”said Annie with a smile.

“Oh,dear.I was looking forward to that,”Emile murmured

under his breath.

“That would have made my diary into a best seller.”

“Gay vicar seduces middle aged harlot who is now

expecting.”

It sounds a bit like the old Bible stories except they

had no vicars in those days.But miracles like older

women bearing children did happen so…who knows?

Stan and Annie got dressed and went into the kitchen.

They were both looking confused.

“You don’t want an abortion do you?” he enquired

tenderly.

“No way.” she replied softly.

“I love you so much,I could not wish for more than to

bear your child.~”

“In that case,I’ll tell Mary.She is a very wise woman in

many ways,though a bit lacking in the earthjer side of

life.She has not slept with me for thirty years or

more.”

“Perhaps she thought you were too old?” said Annie.

“No,she never enjoyed it.She just put up with it as she

wanted a baby.”

“Maybe you did not turn her on!”

“I did my best,but she preferred reading Proust and

Wittgenstein.”

“I wonder of she has Asperger’s syndrome?”

“Well,they do find social life trying but I suppose she

can’t blame you for loving another?”

“No,she’s very broadminded.I’ll suggest we all move in

together.I’ll divorce her but she can have the big

bedroom and we’ll have the guest room with the en

suite.”

“I think this will be fun.”

“Well,not all of it but it will be intriguing,”

“So no need to seduce the Vicar,then?”

“We’ll leave him out of it.He might fall in love with

you and then what would happen?”

“God only knows,”She answered humorously as she went

into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

Read more about this next week or it may be too late!

 

Stan has a bug:light verses

 

 6819924_f1126074c2_m alteredStan woke up with a sore throat.

He had to write his wife a note.

He could not speak without much pain.

Oh,damn,he’s got a bug again!

Mary made him lemon tea.

He listened to the BBC.

He read the Guardian front to back,

Did Su doku,called the quack!

This is Dr Browne right here,

but only gurgles could he hear!

He drove straight round to visit Stan,

He felt concern for this old man!

Stan was lying in the hall.

Dr.Browne asked,Did you fall?

No,said Stan,I hate my bed.

I thought I’d lie down here instead.

It may be draughty,never mind.

Dr Browne is very kind.

What about this long settee?

It looks quite like a bed to me.

I hope you are not feeling gay!

Oh,my God.What did you say?

I mean it seems a trifle odd

To compare a sofa with a bed.

I wonder if you love me, Stan?

Stan said,Doctor you’re a man!

I only love the sweeter sex!

Dr Browne looked very vexed.

Doctor I never knew before.

You are gay.,Oh,zut alors!

Yes,but I am very chaste.

I never go below the waist.

So you just hold hands and kiss?

Yes,my man,it’s utter bliss.

But were do you meet your lovers gay?

I find them mainly on E-bay!

I place small adverts in the Times.

I joined a club for tasting wines.

Some I meet by chance alone.

Can’t you settle on just one?

I feel that lifestyle can’t go on.

But you are unfaithful to your wife?

You do not lead a saintly life!

Oh,Mary is not keen on sex,

She sits in bed and sends out texts.

Once our Lyra had been born,

She treated me with utter scorn!

Then I met my mistress Anne.

I went next door to ask for jam.

She came out and took me in.

Do you think that was a sin?

I’m not God, I do not judge.

He gave Stan‘s arm a little nudge.

Don’t you want a tiny hug?

Who knows,it may scare off that bug!

So Stan and Dr Browne embraced.

I assure you it was completely chaste.

Stan went off to make hot drinks

While Dr Browne admired his Quinks.

Do you use a fountain pen?

I use my Shaeffer now and then.

I got it when I went to college.

Through that pen has passed much knowledge.

But now my mind has gone quite blank.

I’d like to be completely frank.

Was my learning utter waste?

Not at all,it kept you chaste.

While you had your head in books,

It kept attention from your looks.

But now you’re empty,Je t’adore.

With that he made for Stan’s front door.

Stan was gobsmacked by this visit.

He called to Emile:Oh,what is it?

Even though I’m 93

All I meet want to love me!

The English are mainly very queer.

Oh,said Emile,Oh,dear,dear!

Goodbye,I say,goodbye.

 

Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn
 

Standing together,
We lean forward touching foreheads lightly
Eyes closed for a moment
Tenderly we respect
The other’s boundaries.
Yet I feel your heart beating too,
As it it were me.
We lean for a few more moments like this.
Wordless.
Holding the broken places,with love.
Then we turn and walk away
Such moments last forever
In the eternity that Love creates
Foreheads touching,
Skin to skin..
Boundaries of the inner and the outer
You are another;
A real human person
Wanting nothing;wanting everything
I shall remember your smile.
You were with me once
And now we go our ways
Our own difficult journeys.

One meeting of souls
Creates its own symbol

May you be blessed
May the fire not burn you
Nor the water drown you
May the Lord keep you always near him.
May He protect your spirit.
May he give you strength always.

Two love poems

 

Source: Kathryn

Some evenings,the sky turned pink
We were happy,lying in the grass
Watching the sun set.
Arms around each other.
Seemed like eternal life had come
Earlier than forecast.
Those weathermen are always wrong!
They need new training
In that timeless moment
In between two raindrops,
In between two tears.

Source: Kathryn
 
 

As I get nearer,

I feel your warmth.

Warmth draws me in.

Beloved.

I see you here,

touch you gently ,

my hand

on your face,

your skin.

At this boundary

of the world and you.

As we touch,

I feel

the peaceful breath.

The spirit,

the wholeness of the flesh.

touching gently

we acknowledge

the Otherness,

the holiness

of life itself.

In the form of the beloved.

My love.

 

My beloved.

Light touches

Skin soft yet firm

Divides yet unites;

Paradoxically elegant solutions

to these lyrical questions.

How lightly you touch me,

Yet I feel you so much.

In turn I touch you.

Life is a pattern of mutual grace;

we are all touched

By the light and the darkness.

Forgive us,O God,

For forgetting your face.

Sun piercing through red maple leaves

Patterns the flagstone path.

Hear how the blackbirds call,

As we wander,paradise is not for humans.

Though in the end,every living moment

Is paradise on this warm skin of our world,

as it spins again in the void:

And He said:

Let there be Light.

And there was light

We need to be mended

The wailing wall

The wailing wall

I shall try to explain,

but the world is not logical.

the bank notes are old and crinkling.

your face appears like it’s own negative

the wind glows and the sun howls.

why is the rain blue?

i wanted a new weapon but the rainbow was

too long,i need something small and portable,

like a pen i once had.

just a pencil and paper will be fine,

but please look round.

we’re all related in the DNA

but the fighting goes on for what?

does it matter my great grandfather was a Viking

who killed when necessary

or my grandmother sang in Gaelic

and swooned over dead children?

i can’t see but i hear their voices murmur.

a blue and a brown will go together

like harris tweed.

shall i give you some needles to patch yourself

before it’s too late?

i have long threads and connections for you,

if you will listen.

you don’t need the A to Z of London

in this world

it’s not relevant any more

to know exactly where you are,

just use the finger tips to feel the cave walls.

do we know whether to go back or forward

or even upside down?

trust the sense of bones and nerves

and the sea in our veins

linking us all

into a human ocean

all one.

Rainbows flew from his hands

You have come here gradually,

From the whirling chaos of the dreaming infant

anchored by the maternal hand to earth

To your present adult state

Do not try to fly back to heaven today.
Be patient;your guides will,with no effort,
Teach you the patterns and the dance.
All you need is to be open and to trust,
For you have a place in the world
 We need your contribution.No-one else
Will see this world from your perspective.
And as you trust the chaos now,fear it not
Should it return.Every creative act
 involves the breaking of these barriers
by which we keep the chairs and tables
anchored into themselves.The patterns may break up
But new ones are somewhere near.Patience
 With this suffering is the only route now.
You cannot go back.Heaven comes only after
 You have grown roots into this earth,
Grown sunward,and travailed the storms
And stinging blows;have grown your flowers and leaves
 And let them fall.
Accept, The only way you can go
Is the earthly way.
You are part of us.
We love you.Our hands are reaching out
If you just lift your eyes.
In the Chaos,God danced and rainbows
Flew from his hands and tears fell from his eyes.
Those tears which fertilised the earth,
He wept, knowing of the pain to come;
And yet,he did not cease to dance

When my voice trembles

 

 

Source: Kathryn

S

When words no longer work

wonder

wish

want

When words won’t come

compensate

contrive

When my voice breaks

snaps

sunders

strains

When I want to talk

touch

tenderly

towards

But you are not able

about

abandoned

absent

You are no longer

listening

live

longing

When I need to find a meaning

In the shape

form

structure

But I ‘m stranded

Stuck

Sucked under

Swallowed

Then I reach out to you

I want your touch

tenderness

tranquillity

temerity

Sometimes words don’t seem enough

endless

empty

emotive

ejaculatory

Yet words can console

conjure

quilt

charm

captivate

cover.

Stretch out your hand

across the emptiness

and touch me with your fingers

friendship

faithfulness

forgiveness

frailty

fever

touch my heart with words

and I will hope

expect

await

be grateful

grave

garbed in joy

When words don’t feel enough

When all we want is touch

Or to see

sigh

sob

sing

Words can be shaped

changed

contorted

controlled

challenged

Words are all we have

To make us love

To make us live

To make us alive

To make us sing

To make us stand up

To console,words are

quite enough

 

 

 

 

Just one letter

With my last male friend our friendship only altered by  one letter of the alphabet

Friendship became friendshit

After that,it was all downhill…. or should I say dunghill?

You know what I mean?

I prefer a real old fashioned letter.Like,you know

Dear Person

 

Love,Tra la la

 

 

Friendship and tact

Don’t flatter yourself that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates. The nearer you come into relation with a person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become.
Oliver Wendell Holmes

Love skin,love bone

I run my fingers tentatively

down your cheek,

asking you a question

with my eyes.

looking at each other,

you touch me too.

This is my skin

my boundary.

Yours is thicker,

like rubber.

I run my fingers down your chin.

what is this little bone?

I like it.

I like your skin

I like your bones.

I like you.

you please me.

you are tasty.

I like your taste,

your skin,your eyelids.

I like your eye here,

and your other eye too.

Nice one!

I like this hair on your head.

May I touch your hair?

do you like hair?

hair makes me laugh.

I have a fondness for laughing.

I love to laugh.

I enjoy laughter

I love your laughter.

If not, smiling is good also.

Or a gleam in the eyes,

showing the inside smile,

the smiling heart.

I like your inside,

Outside

and possibly

your backside.

your upside and downside.

your side sides.

I snuggle you all around with soft wool.

I knit you into my scarf.

I’ll have to wear you round my neck now!

How unusual

How flexible.

How charming.

How alarming

How creative

How interesting.

What an idea!

what a notion

but you are too big for me to knit

So I’ll just touch your hand

with my fingers.

and you touch my hand

with your fingers.

What good hands we have

with such fingers.

fingers are for touch.

fingers are keen to touch.

I like touch.

what would we do

without fingers?

I like your skin.

skin is good

We love skin

We love.

We.

I want skin to be ours

and yours

is mine

and mine

is yours

where is the edge of the world?

skin has no end

it’s infinity

au naturel.

what order!

what design!

What wonder.

what awe.

where is the world’s skin?

tenderly we touch the world

as the world embraces us.

It’s called love.

Love.

The fleeing lovers:a sonnet

Puzzled cats by Kathryn

When yet another lover flees my king sized bed
and leaves me cold and lonely in the night
I wonder on the thoughtless  words I’ve said,
Or if  for him my eyes ddon’t glow woth light?

I lure them in with all my female arts.
They feel I’m like a spider with a trap.
to lure ,devour,digest my  handsome guests,
Some think there should be warnings on the map,

But most who find me feel they have been blessed.
I give them my attention and desire
I give them gentle care and sing sweet songs.
I give them comfort by my winter fire

Oh,come back ,sweet one,don’t desert me yet,
The clothes I washed for you are still quite wet.

 

A heart like a cold stone

Have you ever had a dream,
That you were all alone?
Have you lived with someone handsome,
With a heart like a cold stone?

Have you drowned in deep,cold rivers,
And been lost in shadowed caves?
Have you lived with too much fusion,
Till you drowned in ghostly waves?

The waves run down the sea shore,
Then up they come once more.
The tide turns and life alters..
Deep on that ocean floor

.
You were so beautiful and silent,
Like a sword without its sheath.
I should have let you take me,
The way you took away my breath

Conjunctio

 
They lay down in awe and fear,
Of what their love was bringing near.
They gazed into each other’s eyes
And so did rhapsodize.

They lay down to gaze into
the eyes and soul and heart so true.
They gazed until,when overcome,
They were united into one.

Their souls and bodies were conjoined,
And thus their hearts were well entwined;
As honeysuckle on the walls,
In joy’s sweet arbours does grow tall.

Their loving lips and eyes and hands
Gave pause to time’s soft flowing sands;
And while they touched and gazed so long,
The birds sang out in glorious songs.

The eyes are mirrors to the soul,
and love will make us grow more whole.
Gaze lovingly on humankind..
And hold care in your mind.

Lies of love.. a sonnet

 

I wear my heart displayed upon my face.
Attentive readers find their meaning there..
Where feelings thought too deep to be embraced
Can shine demurely where they do not scare.

As Freud observed we're never quite disguised
Betrayal is our body's real motif
The message comes conspicuous from the eyes..
Bright sparkles or your tears of blackest grief.

The answer to a question seemly leaps
So Yes or No is visibly revealed.
The blush that spreads so fast across the cheeks
Both bold and shy unable to conceal.

Your face tells me you lied when Love you wrote.
Yet let us part with song as we are poets.

What nonsense….or is it worse?

Always keep some nuts in your pocket when you go out.I do,for sure.I love to feel them if I am worried
He had a broken start in life and his motor never got him going properly.
And his doors were locked shut so he was lonely.He forgot he had his own key,you see.We must all remember that.
She has a following soul but no humans follow her blog.What do you advise?
To eat cake?We’re not in France!l
I froze in any other game but cricket.I kept  the boundary in a marked manner
Her nose on any other face would need a pleat.
All  those toes and never had his own feet.~what a shame
Icecream goes down the little red lane,even when it’s too sweet .
Hold my nose,whilst I tweet.Who are you? I’m just a sheep
Hell,no!I know why any other fame is indiscreet.
I have only a solitary ghoul living with me but he is very sweet if lonely for his own kind.
So is there a love site for ghouls on the Web.Ghouls in love?
I said,Ghouls, not,fools
All the world is a love site for fools
Ghouls full of longing please apply to be rehomed with birds and bees
There was a hole full of tomorrows in Eden but they missed it with the big Apple
I saw all the horrors and skipped them till I was old enough which is now
I am a sole tactician with discretion and ammunition but no weapons except care full poems
He has a beer in the Mart and a lemon tart for his heart…… he wants to die suddenly in the pub garden with a playgirl from Page 3
Abandon Whips.Vote by Conscience… what,a  Revolution? I don’t relieve you
All the bands on the ship went flat together.What a bit of luck!
All hands to the Quip…keep it smiling.
About your face… it’s almost a poem in itself.Don’t say a word!Say a sentence,
Above a board a bread knife hung.He wondered what to eat after that? I suppose the handle is wooden,he mused to himself.
Absence makes the heart grow longer but not much!
A face in the hole looked squashed but he recognized his partner,Jane.What a pain she was and no mistake.
He keeps his face up his sleeve.. it’s his pet neurosis.He gives it all  his care and love..But is that wise, to love a neurosis?
Achilles heel was very sore.To be blunt,it killed him.Or permitted it.We all have our weak spots.Sometimes our whole being seems like a weak spot.In that case you need armour.. or amour as the French might suggest
An acid test is given to people who gossip.If they test positive,they are sent away to live in a green forest clearing brambles and nettles, with their bare hands.

Give me sunshine,give me rhyme

I love you till the end of time

Only the rose

 

You know there’s that little place in the inner wrist

where it’s so soft and tender?

Where I need your touch.

Where I touch you.

Wrist to wrist,noone will notice;

But we notice,

I feel your pulse beating,

Or is it mine?

Take the rose,

Take the rose for your table.

And when you see it

Remember,

Remember everything

What we said,

What we never said but implied,

And only the rose will listen

As you sing your song

The rose will be there

In the heart’s garden

Dreaming,

Dreaming us back into being.

As we fade gently away

With evening time.

Love’s journey

Signs and symbols guide the route.
Love gives the soul her appetite.
Though the night is black and starless,
The inner guide is never careless.
The notes are struck,the tune is played,
Plain melodies are overlaid.
In this chant and benediction,
Healing comes for desolation.

Though the passage way is narrow,
This pathway is the one to follow.
Struggling through the mud and mire,
We see in darkness tongues of fire.
The sacred centre of our life
 Is never found without some strife.
Just then the dark and light combine,
To create a symbol for the mind.

What your words could do

Winter in England
Photo Kathryn

 

Maybe you didn’t know

When you teased me so.

Maybe you never knew

What your words would do.

I float across that space

Where lovers once embraced.

And thus I bring torment

To you whom love I sent.

When you close your eyes

Your daytime face then dies.

You look across dark seas

To sacramental trees.

Your dreams are full of loss.

Is night or day the worse?

When you return next here

Will love outstrip your fear?

I gaze upon your face,

Forbidden to embrace.

My arms ache deep inside,

As if in agony tied.

Torn apart by grief.

Love is now a thief.

Where has God‘s face gone

As brightly shines the sun?

The pains of life are sharp,

Cutting through the heart.

But still we turn towards love,

With all the strength we have.

Trusting in the dark,

Trusting my own heart.

I step into the void.

Love can’t be denied

Entranced by the dance.

Flood me with love
Flood

I wonder

I wonder why the geese fly high;

Creating patterns in the sky?

A group enraptured in a dance.

The stunning art of Providence.

I wonder why most trees are tall?

Standing close.I feel quite small.

The branches shiver in the breeze.

Ballet of winter,dancing trees

I wonder why the sun curves round

A path I see here from the ground?

The sun gives light which softly shines.

An Arche de Triomphe for the pines.

I wonder why two robins fed

On our crumbs of seeded bread?

Such sweet songs of courtship sound!

Life goes round and round and round.

 L

Mystic light:a poem

I have had several mystical or spiritual experiences in my life.So I thought I’d write this poem.I think many people do have mystical experiences but we don’t talk about them.

World of colour
Colour delights

Colour delights

Mystical experience

  • A beam of light passed through my eyes
  • And showed to me a world disguised
  • So near,yet far,we do not see,
    Unless by gift of grace redeemed.That world is full of peace and calm
    It’s colours mingle like a balm
    In such a moment all thought dies
    Revealing Love which underlies.

    Colours caress my naked eyes.
    Sunlight blesses new designs.
    I stand enthralled,and do not wish
    For one delight,other than this.

    My breath slows down, and filled with joy,
    I rove my eyes with bliss to toy.
    Everything is just itself.
    This is now my living wealth.

    Beneath the noise of city traffic,
    This mellow joy,love soporific,
    This depth and peace, is always near
    When we choose Love and turn from fear

Real knowledge will hurt

Source: Kathryn
 
 

 

I don’t want to see reality

But I don’t want to lose your care

I want to go on being selfish,

Yet having you always there.

 

I don’t want to acknowledge your feelings

I ‘m aware I have been very curt

I want to go on not noticing you

Because such real knowledge will hurt.

 

The longer I go on being blind to you,

The longer I choose not to see,

The more I will hurt you ,my loved one,

The more hard and unfeeling I’ll be.

 

I don’t want to see reality

I’m frightened of what I may find

I hope a friend will be with me,

While I traverse the dark shades of my mind.

 

My atoms wing like butterflies

 

A map’s a guide to find a world

Knitted by angels,plain or pearled,

And though you need a map as guide,

Keep your own eyes open wide.

 

I spent a year caught in a map

Until I found a big enough gap

I crawled out through this exit slit,

So here I am,like some half wit

 

Words can act like heroin,

You live so high ,where I have been.

But onto earth I gladly fall.

The air the sun the rain is all.

 

My senses are my lovers long-

My ears,my eyes,my skin my tongue.

The winds caress my naked flesh,

To dwell on earth is all I wish.

 

I’ll live with mice and birds and plants,

I’ll share my food with miscreants

I’ll keep my words inside a tin,

And only, now and then,go in.

 

I’ll live with cats and spiders three.

And like a wild flower grow quite free.

I’ ll give my words to those who hear,

And eventually I’ll disappear

 

Earth to earth then ash to ash

When soaked with rain I shall disperse.

My atoms wing like butterflies,

And to the Flower I’ll fly,disguised

 

Your face is map enough for Me

Your face is map enough for me

Your gaze,your smile,your frown,your glee.

And if I want to know the rest

The shape your posture’s made is best

For showing what your life is now.

A look,a gesture,all this show.

Till all you are is then disclosed

And I am in your arms enrobed.

Love vanishes when analysed,

And thinking too’ by Love’s despised

Use the means to fit the end

And then I’ll be what you intend.

Take lessons from a leaf

Norfolk UK
Norfolk UK Drawing

Poem

Sympathy is sometimes good,

Especially for those not  made of wood.

Empathy can be superior

If to metal,your brain’s nearer.

Do you want to be fulfilled?

Don’t get ground by coffee mills.

Would you like to be superior?

Do not venture to your interior.

Journeys often end in struggle.

As they make the mind more muddled.

Archaic words can be a joy,

But sometimes such words annoy.

Do you like tea from Ceylon?

Alas my own supply’s all gone.

Do you want to study grief?

Take your lessons from a leaf.

After short weeks on a tree

To be thrown off is destiny.

Into earth the leaves return

To  makee food for journeying worms.

So it will be for large and small

Regardless of status,place and all