Day: July 30, 2015

.But in some sense such a meadow no longer exists.

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W.H.Auden wrote a wonderful poem called “Look stranger on this island now”Look ,stranger on this island now.
The leaping light is leaps yet.
Standing silent is hard what with all the mobiles
And the traffic.
Something is making me sway
But it’s not the sound of the sea,
It may be the distant sound of bombs.
I may vomit.
Here at the edge of a field
Lie people killed so some other people
Can have a better future.
The chalk wall is collapsing into the foam
Not to mention the odd earthquake which

Wrecks the East.
Nuclear.

My heart quakes because I love you,
And I’m afraid you prefer the computer.
And all this comes into my mind when I stare
Across the horizon.There’s something wrong.
We are standing on the edge of an English meadow
In spring.But in some sense such a meadon
No longer exists.

Look stranger on this island now.
Delight is stll possible,
Is it probable?
The foam at the edge of the waves
Leaves a white curve on the sand,
I walk through and remember you,
Even though I lost you.
You were tall with green eyes,
And you died of computer news overdose.
I miss you so much ,and the world in your eyes
I want you to tell me, where are you?
Here and there,we remember similar stories
Of heroes returning from far away battles
But the battles are here
And the heroes have departed.
I remember Odysseus and his journey.
But like the green meadow
We have no soul for that,
We’re on the edge
And waiting.

A fallen tree

The rain fell and the clouds hung overhead

As I walked on the moors to meet my man.

If only we had found a heather bed.

We’d would have done what men and women can.

The sun was absent anf the trees all bowed down

The wettest winter for a hundred years…

Yet full of love ,my face displayed no frown…

My heart was full,and absent any fears.

The moon too was watching as I ran

Her silver crescent pierced the clouds with joy.

I could not wait to meet my loving man.

And with his hands and face I longed to toy.

But when I reached the spot where he would be,

Nothing waited but a fallen tree.

In summertime I love to meditate

How sweet to sit among these luscious trees

Protected from the sun’s too powerful heat

To hear the distant humming of the bees

And for our loving eyes to swiftly meet.

In summertime I love to meditate

to count the breaths as I receive the world

To be united with all beings in this state

The flags of joy are light and soon unfurled

These summer days are long and filled with light

Though storms may come and fill the sky with rage

Small birds then gather for a sudden flight

As I write sentences across this page.

For every season has its light and shade

And for such states we humans are well made

Still racist in the UK

I

PasqueFlower2In my entire life so far  I have been physically  attacked three times.That is not counting all the things my brothers did to me as that was jus “play”.However I only informed the police after one more potentially serious attack quite near our house.

I described the man as tall with blonde hair and blue eyes.I got the reply “Was he black?”

So I said I’d not yet seen a black man with blonde hair and blue eyes.All the people who attacked me were white and as far as I could see they were not Jewish either.. nor any other group of people who are  often used as scapegoats in society.One of the attackers was a woman and someone in the hospital knew her… she was crackers.They knew her well.She didn’t  pick me out..I was just too near her in Victoria St in London on my way to see the Abbey.Instead I saw St George’s hospital.At that time you got seen within a few minutes in A and E.

If we are richer now,why is A and E so much worse?That does  puzzle me.If you are dying you get good treatment but otherwise it’s very slow.

I have been asked several times where I come from now.When I say England they look surprised.I hope I don’t get sent back to Scandinavia and end up in a log cabin  in Norway like Wittgenstein.They tell foreigners to go home but when they do they aren’t acceptable there sometimes.It’s too late now to sens us all back where we came from… somewhere in Africa I believe!

Why do poppies cover the battlefields so politely

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We have to be breathing right to hear
the silence from which all song arises;
we have to be breathing slow
and gently
We have to be breathing right to feel it,
the tenderness in which we are held by nature.
We have to be breathing quiet
and soft
and to be looking receptively,

No desire for  objects

We have to be breathing right to recall it
the music we heard when there was silence.
We have to be being breathed
by the world
We have to be part of the whole..

and so,we forget  it as we are pounded

with  the noise of radios and traffic
and people talking loudly on cell phones
walking by the green fields and river
past the secret heron
and the coots nest
past the daisies

When I am dying I shall think,
Why was I not breathing right?
Why was I scarcely breathing?
Why did I forget those moments?
Why did I not live more deeply?
Why did i not sing more sweetly?
Why did I nor love more dearly?
Why did i not listen more carefully?

Why did I not sing more sweetly?
why did I not see more completely?

Why don’t we talk more gently?
Why don’t we look more intently?

Why were the poppies growing so wildly?
Why were the battlefields growing nightly?
Why did we murder  men so lightly?
Why did we not love more rightly?
Why are the poppies  covering the soil  so  politely?
When did the young  soldiers   leave so frightfully?

Why are we not here  more quietly?

Having to collect mail with underpaid postage; it is from a Charity.

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On Monday I got a card through the door saying someone had underpaid postage so their letter was not delivered.I  managed to get down to the sorting office today.It was from Friends of the Earth.So I refused to pay £1.54 to take it.

I just rang FoE and they said it was a letter asking me to increase my monthly donation.I decided to cancel my donation as it’s the only way to stop this recurring.I  am weeding out a few of these donations as I will probably have less money in the future or even this month!

I shall continue ones like Medecin sans Frontiers

Do not give money to an appeal asking you to text a certain number because when I did this they phoned and demanded a monthly amount.The man was extremely skilful.This is really a serious problem for people especially older ones.

I have also got cunning schemes from supposed insurance companies on my mobile now…

In the land that dreams dwell in

In the land which dreams dwell in

where love and joy and life begin;

how swiftly the deep rivers flow

from those lost lands of long ago.

I wander through wild poppy fields

Underfoot the dark earth yields….

I see the flowering fruit trees start

Their blossoms gather round my heart…

I hear the sparrows sing with joy

And bees their busy wings employ.

In those lost lands I saw your face

And now I long for your embrace.

Are you real,am I deceived?

From this earth we all must leave.

Earth to earth and ash to ash

Glory,pride and boasting pass.

Leave me now,my dearest one

Soon I too will be called on.

Nothing lasts but truth is real

Keep the truth and your ideals..

Earth to earth, we rest in clay

We must give all self away

Softly on this earth I roam

Seeking still my love and home,

for until the very end

Love and kindnss may descend.

Soft as wings of butterflies

Tears well up and wet my eyes.

My heart has melted into yours

Thus we grow and die like flowers