The caterpillar cried

Is there a nutmeg in the house,the caterpillar cried.

I’ve been upstairs and locked the door,what else might I try?

I used mace for many years the beetle told us all.

If you budget carefully,the expense will not appall

I have no time to go to town,the moth indignant cried.

And anyone who says I have will very truly lie.

A Penguin cookery book fell down and hit the sleeping cat;

I’ll ask the Vicar what she thinks of coincidence like that.

We looked for maces everywhere but nothing did we find

Except an old lace petticoat  beginning to unwind.

Is there an alternative? the mouse asked timidly.

Personally I don’t put dried mace into my tea.

A housefly and a  bluebottle refused to speak at all

Because they’d just got married and were saving for a ball.

I find it hard to live like this and I shall go to bed

But all the creatures loudly cried, Oh,when will we be fed?

A little collection from my other blog

The library of ideas

 I thought I'd write some poetry,
Though my thinking was too blind.
So I called into the Ideas Library
To see what I could find.

I looked through rows of new ideas
but none of them appealed,
I turned and tripped and banged my head,
where ideas can be concealed.

If you bang your head extremely hard
You really do see stars.
but don't do this to loosen thoughts,
It's the riskiest method by far 

I spent the night in hospital,
Awakened every hour
I was advised to watch my step
And avoid the Ideas Tower.

I wonder if there is a shop
Where ideas and dreams are sold?
For just a small expenditure,
Put your creative mind on hold.

But if you can't afford to pay
The library is still there.
Just look around and use your mind.
Ideas are everywhere.

The interaction of the world
With vision,thought and mind,
Produces many new ideas.
Those who seek shall find

Just a load of cliches

I once lived in a notebook but now I live in your head with your dreams.

And I scheme.

He was warmed to the truth by tea and intoxicatologigated by me

I see!

I am right round the corner from him.You might say,we are at right angled cross purposes

Is there a  cross surplus?.

As all set out,storms set in,then we all fell out if you see what I dream.

I   am mean

You are as truthful as as a chorus of wrongs in rites of the Church choir

Don't leave me in the lurch.I'm a liar.

He’s as tense as a mournful frog in a bog in Ireland in wintery discontentll

It's all meant

As far as the wife can throw,I flew.

I shall  sue Sue.

I was flooded as a whole.My emotions welled up and ran all over me like faries’ hands..

Like elastic bands

I am honest as the day is wrong.

Give me a song

He was torn in three by tomcats with balls of steel

They will appeal

I have lost a whole stone and still no moss will grow on me.It grew on the stone!

Now I feel so alone

As Gluck would have it, music is heavenly singing by invisible choirs of cats.

He was bats

I sought him here,I sought him there.I sought him with angelic flair.

But noone catches Tony Blair.

I am as snug as a lapdog in a bog with a brick on its head

Can I sleep on your bed?

She was as tender as an apple tart is round.

 and quite sound

As the crow flew,I had to fly as well to avoid it escaping me..I leave no crow alone

They usually get stoned

Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite

Oh,doctor I am in a flap

Oh,doctor I am in a flap
I cannot turn this childproof cap
I cannot take my medicine
So I shall toss it in the bin

The beta blockers make me down
I am in a study brown.
The mini aspirins make me bruise
And my mind is quite confused.

The ibuprofen hurt my heart
Yet without one I cannot start.
The thyroxine has no effect
So now I feel my life is dreck.

The codeine fails to make me high
I'm not addicted, though I try.
I'll have to take a shot of gin
And alcohol will make me sin.

I'll go to parties in a dress
That makes men's hormones more or less.
I'll take a big one home with me,
And give him poison in his tea.

And when I am in jail at last
I'll feel remorse for all my past.
For as I suffer dreadful pain
God has hit me yet again.

It's not enough that I am blind
And suffer terrors in my mind
Not enough that lovers cruel
Give me stick instead of jewels.

Or maybe life does not make sense
Especially when I feel so tense.
Maybe random are my days
and my life has gone astray.

I think that I shall buy a cat
And love it tenderly and chat.
But if my cat gives me a scratch...
I'll light its tail up with a match.

All the world must me obey
Else I'll be enraged all day.
I want my own way all the time.
Other people must conform.

I am here and full of ills
What do you think of these blue pills?
If they take away my heart
That at least will be a start.

Then they can remove my brain
To help me with this damned pain.
Why not kill me right away
Then I'll be from pain astray?

Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite

She loved her adverb more than me

My wife has left me for an adverb.
I don't know which one it is!
Is it slowly,quickly, nearly?
Life should not be like a quiz.

She told me that she "nearly" loved me,
When "dearly" was what I had hoped.
Life is full of lost illusions...
How do we 'reaved lovers cope

I think I should have kept it secret,
For now I sit and sadly grieve.
Do you think my wife is cruel?
What a strange excuse to leave!

Would she leave me for a pronoun?
Would she leave for a full stop?
Would I leave you for a quote mark?
Would I fall down in a black dot?

Come back,darling for I love you.
I have learned I must take care.
I will go for grammar lessons.
I am sure I can learn flair!

We can write a poem together,
You can choose the topic,dear.
I will hold my pen and write for
They say true love drives out fear.

Did I fear her? Did I love her?
Was she worthy of my heart?
Did she dislike my hairy nostrils?
Was that why we had to part?

Come back Mary,come back Mavis.
Come back Sunny, come back Sue
Without my wife I feel so lonely.
What is a left man to do?

Shall I vote for love or money?
Shall I throw my self away?
Shall I get a new agenda?
Will a new life start today?

Come back Miriam,come back Sarah!
Where have all the women gone?
Come back Rivka with your grammar.
I can feed you a cheese scone.

I work hard and I can cook.
I put fresh linen on the bed.
I can pay my bills in full.
But without my Love,my heart is dead

 

When true love’s gone

When true love's gone and doom hangs over head
When life runs like a river to the sea
Then shall I take new lovers to my bed.
And with their carnal touch consoled be?



When true loves lie and break my woman's heart.
When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path.
Then, shall I my life of evil start
And on the world shall I bestow my wrath?


When true loves lie and wreck all loyalty.
When puzzlement makes all the world seem mad.
Then I shall upend causality
And let myself do deeds which make me glad.

For I have love's sweet child inside my soul
And I shall tend her till at last she's whole

 

No sight is like the rising of the sun

No sight is like the rising of sun
When promises of dreams seem  clear and still
My heart  though sore ,can fancy  love has come
Without hard times and exercise of will.

No morning is without new dawn of hope
When all our conflicts shall be put aside.
Imagination is  far flung in scope,
Never  noting dreams may fraughtly lie.

No love is like my long lost love for you
Once known,once felt,it settles in the heart.
Yet I do believe love can be found anew
But only when the lost  true love  departs.

So bother me no more with reveried bliss.
Go leave me with my  life,though all’s amiss

A Romanian from Devon

I once had a friend called Michel
He was an immigrant, what the hell?
He flew here from Heaven
Our bread for to leaven...
Yeah,the Lord is a Romanian from Devon.

He blessed all the birds and the bees
But the Government he sure liked to tease.
You are too corrupt,
He cried as he supped.
So they slung him up here on' tween two  trees.

After he died we had storms
And fires and floods and alarms.
We never perceive
Rather, we deceive...
So by our fragmented fears we are torn.

Collect up my fragments,Oh Lord
Strike me not dead with thy sword.
Reglue me with care
as my faults I lay bare.
Add my soul to thy heavenly hoard

Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite

In such captive grief

How like a prison is my cubicle
How wary is  my body on this chair.
How still my heart and yet how truly fickle.
How fast it flies to you who are not here.

How elegant your letters and your thoughts
How gentle was your touch upon my throat.
And yet you killed  my words and all I brought...
You were no lover but a randy goat.

As in this mental jail I'm  neatly trapped,
I'll use this time to write and  also pray.
Perhaps my mind can extricate a map..
From which I'll plot the route to get away.

The prisons which seem external are inside
Yet in such captive grief some folk have died

A song about my cat

My cat went a roaming to find a new home.
Sing kitty,sing katty,sing Oh!
This cat was so clever he had his own comb.
Look up,now look down,stone the crows!

He went into the neighbours' and drank all their milk.
Sing,fridge raiding kitties.No,No!
Then he laid himself down on a piece of fine silk.
Sing,what the dickens,my lovely pillow!

He went to the butcher and ate all the steak.
Sing greedy,he's ruined my flow.
Then he went to the hairdresser for a shampoo.
Where else can a puttitat go?

He had no plastic,no money,no cheque!
Sing,cheater,sing creature,sing woe.
She sent for a Copper who paid the cat's bill.
And so  my puss came out all aglow.

Now my cat was glossy and plump and refreshed.
Sing:fancy,it all goes to show.
So he came home and said this place is best.
And he picked up his cello and bow.

He scraped some Sibelius and also some Grieg.
Sing: Northern lights can always glow.
But,he looked so self satisfied,I felt annoyed....
One should not let one's narcissism show.

But he was so handsome,I was glad he came home.
Sing,grateful,sing katefull,sing Ho!
And I hope he will never again want to roam.
Sing glory.sing story;Sing So!

Preys Postmodernism

Postmodernism’s the fashion ne’er manque.
We must study Foucault and his scribes.
Get reason trapped and do not court  delay.
You need to find your intellectual tribe.

Where is the goose which laid the golden egg..
Invented meta-talk and fairy tales?
Which narrative is balanced on a peg?
Which philosopher gets re-homed by a whale?

Where is the whole truth and the nothing but?
Whose ‘ the eye which sees reality?
Who ‘s the judge who makes the final cut?
Where is the God to whom we owed fealty?

Now nothing is what anyone can say.
I understand it’s meaningless to pray

 

New words

Tellekinesis…………… moving the television

Belliekinesis……………. belly dancing.

Alienekinesis…… ……………….ethnic cleansing

Bollockinesis………………..moving bollocks.] is that vulgar?]

Followerkinesis………………. magically  forcing your  blog followers to move with you to another platform

Malekinesis………….. moving  a man physically or emotionally.

Maleumkinesis…………….. moving evil around

Veilkinesis……………… making women’s veils fall off from a distance…

Pedekinesis……………… dancing

Chirokinesis………………. it’s not been invented yet

 

 

Kinesiophobia in the mind

Created with Nokia Smart Cam

When I was writing the last post I assumed kinesiophobia was fear of physical movement or travelling but maybe it could also mean fear of changing our minds and looking at things from alternative perspectives.If you have  not lived in different cultures even as  simple  a move as going from a working class home to a University may cause great anxiety. Changing your religious or political  belief or even knowing that someone else has especially if it’s someone close to you is a major step.I know several people who still practise Catholicism but do not believe any of its creeds.But to formally give them up might be too big a step.Conversely,it would be even harder in some circles to move from atheism to religious belief in the sense  that you might be mocked.This odd because there is no scientific reason against belief in God.

Ironically it was  being made to study theology at school which was a watered down version of Aquinas  that made me have doubts.I thought,so they are not sure.. and the head mistress was not tolerant of discussion.My attempts brought me into conflict and led me into  mental pain eventually..

I suppose we need some movement in our ideas and our assumptions but not too much or we lose our footing.Sometimes we must hide it which is what I should have done when I was still at this convent school.

People who try to convert others  like evangelical Christians or  excessively  left wing/right wing  political groups should realise the  dangers of  asking people  to make  a giant leap of faith

Be hopeful

Kinesophobia’s hard to measure;

Deprives   the sufferer of fine leisure

They cannot travel in the bus

For fear their nerves will make a fuss.

 

Trapped inside a moving car

Hardly knowing where we  are.

Do we trust the driver’s hands?

Dare we give some kind commands?

 

Others suffer when at sea

They drink gin for safety.

It’s all about control and trust.

Probably from our  very own past.

 

The breakdown that we fear may come

Has already  visited and gone.

We project our past into tomorrow

Which  blights  our soul  with  fearful  sorrow.

 

All of life can give us pain

Don’t add more by worrying.

We’re often stronger than we think

Hey,who has stolen my hard drink?

 

It’s  so easy to offer wise advice

If we’ve not been in that same  place.

Acknowledge,listen,then accept.

Grace may come to us direct.