Month: February 2014
I can’t love you without
I can’t love without
I can’t love you
without loving the whole world too.
I can’t open my heart
unless everyone can be part
Wait for me.
I’m not afraid.
Wait for me.
I may be delayed.
I see you in my mind
Smiling, sad and kind.
I can’t love you
Unless I love the lost too.
Give me your hands
Outstretched across the strands
We’re all one.
Life has begun
Share this:
Stan has therapy
Passion flowers
Stan is feeling low and sad
His good wife Mary has gone mad.
Stan is feeling Guilt and Fear
He knows now that it’s wrong to leer.
Stan has been a naughty boy.
He let a mistress with him toy.
But Mary found his mobile phone
When she was at home all alone.
His mistress lived next door to him
Which made it simpler for to sin.
While Mary worked hard teaching maths
The lovers lingered in the bath.
He was meant to do the chores.
Chopping wood and painting doors.
He had to bake the cakes and bread.
So that the household would be fed.
But Stan into temptation fell,
As did his neighbour Anne as well.
They enjoyed so many hugs,
And lying down in woolly rugs.
So, Mary, she was most appalled.
She screamed and yelled and cried and bawled.
So Stan has gone for therapy.
What sort of changes will he see?
He lies down on a long brown couch.
Behind which the therapist crouches.
He says to Stan,”now let it rip.
I want your mouth to be unzipped.”
Was your mother kind to you?
Did she train you on the loo?
Did she wash yopur mouth with soap?
Was she prone to sulk and mope?
Stan thought this man verbose.
So he kept his own lips close.
When he got the bill to pay.
He told the therapist,”No way”
“You have been the one to talk.”
He glared like a crusading hawk.
“You should pay me,not I pay you!”
What was his therapist going to do!
“I’m glad you’ve managed to speak out.
Your sanity is not in doubt.
I’ll tear the bill up for this week.
And next time I want you to speak.”
So Stan unleashed his every thought
Just as the Freudians once had taught.
I don’t know how he feels inside.
But language is a useful guide.
And as he sees his therapist,
His mistress is not greatly missed.
He wanted more attention,
So now his bad ways are all gone!
He got a part time job as well.
So he could pay his therapy bill.
Mary is still teaching maths.
And now it’s she with whom he baths!
Share this:
Apples
It’s not that
It’s not that I don’t love you,
only that I don’t want you to become such a fixed part
of my mind’s furniture
that I sometimes stumble across unknowingly in the dark.
It’s not that I don’t hate you
only that I don’t want you to become limited to being
my resident devil
who’s reponsible for all the badness in me .
It’s not that I want to become indifferent to you,
only that I want always to see you afresh
when my eyes greet yours
and not ignore you as you are always here.
It’s not even that I don’t care about you
only that I want to be unburdened
from the guilt of love
and to love freely when it’s the right time
or not at all.
It’s not that I cannot sing for you
But that I want to sing for others too
when I find my voice
and to sing my own song as the spirit moves in me,
or not at all.
It’s not that you are lacking in any way
only that I need to be alone some days
to digest all I’ve gathered
You know, I am never myself without you,
that’s all.
And it’s not as if we can’t be together
But we’ll be more fully together
when we live our own life
You know I’d never have sung my songs without you
No. never at all.
My lover
Share this:
Unknowing
I was familiar with Christian mysticism and the Cloud of Unknowing then I came across a beautiful article about a Jewish man’s discovery of mysticism and enlightenment.The article is not very hard to read.
Struggling through life
Share this:
Too many books are full of love
So many books are full of wrath.
I hope his tricks boil.
The lass may be much meaner on the far side of the fence.
Do you catch my lips?
Where have all the hours gone?
Share this:
The games of love
I gave my heart away to a false love
By his strange stories I had been beguiled.
He whispered such sweet nothings like dove.
He charmed me with his words and with his smiles.
I was a fool an so I paid the price
For I was hoping that real love had come.
But now I know desire made me unwise
He needed power, his love was a shrewd sham.
We must beware when for such love we seek..
We must see clearly or we’ll love a ghost.
We must not assent when we’re feeling weak.
For then mirages manifest the most.
Remember too that love is called a game.
And do not answer when he calls your nam
Share this:
Getting Into Hot Water
I love this
Share this:
A happy middle
l Silverstein > Quotes > Quotable Quote
“There are no happy endings.
Endings are the saddest part,
So just give me a happy middle
And a very happy start.”
Well.I disagree.He wrote that because it rhymes
Share this:
Like startled flowers
The hailstones pounded the window
as violently,as if they had minds
bent on killing;soldiers in rows and ranks rushing onwards;
as each fell another and another took its place.
Cold and mathematical they had a simple precise force and geometry.
Into this warlike scene,floated two white butterflies
Crossing and recrossing the spaces between the hail
they followed a random path;now together.now apart
Their unplanned,loving dance leads to mating, procreation and a future
while the hailstones can only die.
Seems sometimes fragile freedom is more productive
than the fierce mechanical modern world can imagine.
I see the butterflies now like startled flowers
hunting for the sun
Share this:
There’s a tear in my soup
Take your hands off my flea.
Bake your sands in the sea.
Once written twice the guy.
Too many books boil the brain
Lovers make good bedcovers.
One odd fellow does not a lover make.
Keep writing on till the send button goes.
Waiter,there’s a tear in my soup.
He tore into the soup with all his might.
I shall love you till I have resigned.
We write sonnets on the wall.
We have no wailing malls here yet but people are getting more careful/
The dentist took out my beef….and it was roasted too!
What is lurking in the bread?
Share this:
Sodden England is wetter than ever
We used to have a climate so mild
we rarely had winds that were wild
But since Christmas last
No day has gone past
Without rain that would drown a small child.
We wonder why England’s so wet.
Are we like old Job so be set
Exams and ordeals
Which make all of us reel…
Are good and evil beset?
Scotland wants to break right away.
And they have not much rain these days.
Are we English at last
To be punished for our past?
Not even the Pope likes to say
Share this:
Leave a little space for 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 make a little space for creation
Keep this all in mind
The in-between is where life starts.
The emptiness and fullness, in-between.,is where we share.
Posted by K2 at 12:39 
Share this:
Gouache
Take you hands off my fee
A half naked idea passed by wearing a tie
He has hammered his wails into the bookshelf and now it groans with my books
Take your hands off my fee
Feel free after you pay me.
We’ll weep again,don’t know where,don’t care when.
I’m bureaucratic but not psychoticI
I am a psychoanalyst .Keep talking wildly for fifty minutes.Then stop woodenly and pay me
Can you plea negotiate?
He can strangle ten cats with his glove.
May I put my elastic bands into the cat’s handbag?
Why is there so much handwriting on your wall?
Is this part of a pattern?
She was as handy as a pick on a golden locket
They called it slang ,I swear, you dick headed prick.Pardon my French
What a lemony twang there is from your hair!
I hang on his evil words trying to bring them to earth for burial
May I hang myself from your picture redail to see if anyone wants me?
I am as happy as a freshly boiled soaked haddock
Please do not move this oak as such notions often upend the world
The dispossessed will be persecuted until Heaven
Are you happily pampered? If not ,don’t come here
What is a bard’s day or night but a long flow of rhythm?
He was headed like the best notepaper.He had his address on his hat
What is a hard stop and how is it related to a full stop
I find buttons hard to swallow
What a hair’s breadth from an idea,she was.But she could not make the leap
He has his leg up my chimney but it’s on fire and so am I
Send for the fryer brigade and peel some potatoes
Haste makes love seal better.
Share this:
Be calm
Sequence
-
Oh, cradle my soul in your light
-
As I am in darkness tonight.
-
Fill me with your love
-
On earth,not above.
-
Your touch is both gentle and bright.
-
Seeing and feeling are one.
-
As senses conjoin yet are none.
-
I know it is so
-
The darkness shall glow
-
You are both god and person.
-
It seems like the heavens are weeping
-
Rain and snow fall while we’re sleeping
-
The clouds are grey black
-
As Northward they trek.
-
As for records, are they all we are keeping?
-
We dwell in a body of flesh
-
With others we love to enmesh.
-
Let’s get up and dance now
-
Love shows us how…
-
We dance to the tunes that refresh
-
We humans need meaning to create
-
The meaningless can agitate.
-
But stories abound.
-
Pick the best you have fo found
-
Get in there and start to narrate
-
In nature time goes round and round
-
Life’s a spiral, the wise man has found.
-
Each time I pass you
-
I see you anew
-
Until gently we are laid in the ground.
-
The end is the beginning,they say.
-
So say what is important today.
-
For time flows like a stream;
-
What is ,soon has been.
-
So we are foolish to encourage delay
Share this:
Concentric circles
Simple wisdom
-
She has eyes in the back of her head
In my childhood people often said things like this..sayings,adages often very wise.In this case,it’s a very vivid way of saying this person sees a lot,maybe more than others like.Because being looked at is nice but being scrutinised is unpleasant for most of us,I feel.
On the other hand,with love it is different.
He can’t take his eyes off her
If you take this literally it sounds odd.But most language is dead metaphors.
It conveys strongly how compelling this woman is to a certain man…is he afraid she will vanish?And his friends may say he’d be wiser to look round a bit more before committing himself to the possible anguish of love which may be unrequited.
These sayings are very powerful sometimes.Keep putting one foot in front of the other
You may think it’s trite,,, but I don’t.It’s saying ,just keep walking,keep moving………. and eventually it’s likely you will get to a better place,emotionally speaking.
You may think if someone said that when you were feeling low that they were just unable to say anything original but in a way,it says what is important.
Life is a journey and we keep travelling along even if it’s hard.I think though that the way you say it matters, and how you are already towards that person.
Movement is important in life.Blood circulates,air goes in and out of our mouths and noses,water goes through us and out again carrying impurities.Put me through your kidneys,Lord
Make me pure again…..
No!No hymn like this,please.Of course,some poets have a gift of inventing new forms in which to express these important matters in life.Even adverts sometimes have compelling wordings.
Go to work on an egg
is very funny and we remember it.And it’s memory that recalls these adages to us when we need them
“I may feel bad but I am a person who keeps my word so I will do what I promised even though I feel so upset”
“We always have clean sheets every week and we always will as long a I am here.”
Saying these things to ourselves is helpful in my view.And we are strengthened by doing what we wish to do and not lying drunken on the sofa all day.
I am concerned that many of these wise words seem to have gone from our vocabulary,
Keep the ball rolling.
This means to keep life flowing even if only slowly I think… it;s using the idea of a game with a ball [Greek bole… to throw]
Ball games are crucial to our identity as English,Welsh Irish,Scottish,French etc
and then the game is a metaphor for life where playing well counts,not winning because in the end there is no winning or losing but we live the best life we can… in our own way ideally… that’s where poverty or slavery are so destructive.But even there,we see some people live with dignity and courage to shame the rest of us.Your own life is your work of art.
Share this:
Dear Dr.Kay
Dear Dr.Kay
Please help me.I have far fewer fiends than my friends do and I feel envious.Where did they get them from?Is it too late for me.I have a little devil here in my house but he’s shy.I do have a demon too but after being out through the wringer he’s become an angel.
I don’t wish to become sinful but do I need to use more coarse language to attract fiends and if so how can I learn it.I believe TV plays are one possibility.
Is there a helpline for fiendless ladies?And is it free?I am getting short of money as the dentist has stolen most of it and wants even more.
Or should I get a man to take me to a nightclub?What will happen?I hear yiu have to go to bed now on the first date.Well,suppose you don;t like their odour and their beards?
Is there a website where I could buy 3 or 4 fiends? And if they become toxic can I dispose of them safely like old computers?
Thanks for reading and looking forward to a response
Yours sincerely
Nut case
Share this:
Come back,beggar man
I saw you on the pavement
with your old brown dog
You were shabby,poor,ragged,
Sat on your tartan rug.
You had water for the dog,
You hugged him and you sang,
But the people walked on by,
And no-one looked at you.
No-one looked at you.
But you still sang your song.
And you sent me so much love
It crossed from eye to eye.
I felt it coming in.
I heard that you had died,
Though you were only thirty three.
Only thirty three.
I wonder,where’s your dog?
I felt our souls had touched,
You gave to me so much
As I wandered in my grief
Through the roads and round the streets.
In your glance, you touched my heart.
I felt love swimming through,
From you right into me.
Will you come again?
I see all these dim, grey men
Who cut your benefits
To give more wealth to few;
So that the needle’s eye,
which is waiting when we die,
is forgotten, for they want
protection for their wealth.
I wish that beggar man
would come back here again.
I liked to hear his songs
But I can’t recall the tunes;
Maybe I’ll write songs myself,
That’s the highest sort of wealth
Our creativity
Is a path to dignity.
Come back every one!
I wish you had not gone.
come back in my dreams
and give me some new themes.
I’m singing like you sung.
it’s this world that’s so wrong.
come back beggar man,
I knew you were the one.
Share this:
On Things Best Left Unsaid
Very much worth reading
- “I read 50 Shades of Gray. It was interesting.” Right. I was enjoying my meal but now…
- Adding “for your age” to any sentence. A swing and a miss in the compliment arena.
- “Hold on. I need to take a selfie.” Selfies are never needed.
- After a meal: “Oh God I’m so full.” A simple “Loved the meal” will suffice. How you stuffed yourself to discomfort can remain a secret.
- “You look tired.” Gee, thanks. I didn’t realize. Now I’ll go about my day as normally as possible.
- When giving a present: “It was on sale.” Pat yourself on the back for the bargain instead of announcing it.
- When receiving a present: “Is there a gift receipt?” Woe is the gift giver in this situation!
- “I need more fiber in my diet.” Eww.
- “Do you want your upper lip waxed?” This should never be offered. Ever. End…
View original post 62 more words
Share this:
Difficult books
I am still surrounded by difficult yet interesting books and wonder if I should do a degree in philosophy first!So another day gone without me writing a post.Still there are the twp reblogs you can look at meantime….
So watch this space
Share this:
I’m never quite sure what eyes can see
When I was alive and a girl what’s more
I never went to bed in case I snored…
I avoided the bathroom and never used soap
Unless it was dangling from a rope.
Unless it was examined through a microscope.
When I was a girl and never saw a boy
I bought some plasticine and made a toy.
I never went to bed alone at night
I took a cat which sure could bite.
I took a cat and we had a fight..
When I was a ghost I haunted fools
Like the teacher at my school.
I never went to bed as I never sleep…
And then I fall into a heap.
And then I fall into the deep.
When I was a woman I was claimed by a man,,
He said,I have a frying pan.
We went to bed and he knew me…
And all my body was his to see.
And all my body was buzzing like a bee……
Then I grew old and withered and lined
We both fell into a decline.
We went to bed and we kissed and joked
Lit cigarettes and we both smoked.
Lit cigarettes and we both stroked.
Share this:
What had caused me to behave with depravity.
Sometimes I just write to make myself laugh and I hope others may laugh too.
I went to the doctor today
I was filled with elation and gravity.
I told him I was unable to say
What had caused me to behave with depravity.
He asked did I want any pills
I threw them all down the lavatory.
He said women have weaker wills…
This makes living with one such a purgatory,
I said I have lost my tom cat
If you see him, he’s called Mr. Mcavity
He offered to tame me a rat.
So I asked him to send me to Coventry.
I whirled around in my bed
Surely dreams should be celebratory?
I know no man ever bakes bread…
Yet they call it history not herstory.
Oh,why not let go of the reins
Run wild with the escapatorii
At least they have blood in their veins
And stiff whiskey runs through right through their arteries
Share this:
Cliches
Share this:
Poetry makes me breathe differently
Dreaming
Sometimes writing makes me breathe differently.
I can see the silence settle around me,
Like a prayer shawl.
i accept it gratefully.
There’s a thin feeling to the day
As if the sun might have tried harder
to come through
But it had a blue feeling
And the clouds were greedy,
Wanting too much to melt
And shed their moisture.
Some perfume please,I think it was £27.99
Yes,I like that one even more than jasmine oil.
Pour it down over London
Like a blessing.
A black woman laughed and patted my arm,
You’re so funny,she cried.
And I smiled coyly
As if someone hidden was taking my photograph.
Sometimes life’s too sweet
And needs a little pepper.
The chair creaks as I lean forward
Trying to see everything at once
As if it all happened now,not yesterday.
I like dreaming.
Share this:
Snails
When I was only three years,two months old
I saw some snails sip water on a path.
They seemed to me both shy and also bold.
So in delight I gave a joyful laugh.
We loved the flowers along the promenade,,
Whose colours sweet and bright bestowed dear love.
The railings made a playground with their bars.
And all I recall now is sun above.
A little island in an artificial lake
Was also a new playground we adored.
Into my virgin eye the pleasures I would take
To multiply them each by half a score.
Though emptiness and innocence are free
Which adult can allow such states to be?
Share this:
Hints for life
Cat got your song then? I thought you’d licked it once or twice then mioawed all night
I am Miss Taken.How do you sue?
She fell head over wheel and got the handlebars into a brand new formation before dying of boredom
I always read above the lines of lassitude as I long for your trembling touching timidity to pass by on the other side.
Laughter is the best sedattive not invented by man.
Waking up on the wrong side of the body is disconcerting if you are not dead yet
I wanted to dither on the dotted line but he read me the riot tact and that was the end
Butt clenching strain made him feint in a lively manner with a spanner from the works
Heart-stopping dearness made me love him
I love you more than strife and health
And hence they all lived happily ever dafter
The quiet before I was born was delightfully calming.. like being dead could be in the womb of God
Share this:
WELCOME BACK FRANCIS
This is interesting
A couple of years ago I listened to one of those Great Courses lectures on St. Francis of Assisi. I patiently waited through all the talk about his early beginnings, his military experience, his illness, his rejection of society, and his eventual creation of a new order. Most of it was dry and rather matter-of-fact. Where was the meat? Where was the mystical Francis I’d heard about? Where were the stories, the hagiography, that made Francis one of the most loved and recognized saints of all time? I walked away from the lectures shaking my head in disappointment. It wasn’t until later that my reading caught up with the reality. I had been very naïve believing a history and art professor would ever broach the subject of mystical experience. It wasn’t done; even an academic degreed in comparative religion would shy away from this discussion. How sad because isn’t…
View original post 580 more words
How my heart sings 