Day: March 15, 2017

Look out, not in, and find salvation there

 

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Now therapy usurps the place of faith

And into our own minds we’re told to delve

Whatever we now think , we have to say it

In that way Freud thinks we find a  truer self.

The therapist is like a looking glass

They  just reflect whatever we have bared.

But if we look to long, it comes to pass

That Satan and his devils are prepared.

They may enchant us  into false self-love

To value pride  and then deceive  our souls;

Yet  to  humble people comes the  holy dove

And self-forgetting is what makes us whole.

Confused, alarmed and  reckless with  despair

Look out, not in,  and find salvation  there

I am washing my lair.

I can’t go out,
I am boiling my mittens
I am washing my lair.
I am retiling the ceiling
I am freezing the cleaner.
I am filing a grudge
I need a new body of work.
I am rhyming worse.
My ghost is calling.
The phone is dead.
The computer is asking for my vital  head tricks
I am a liar
Believe me.

A rain of roses from the sky above

 

If I were to choose a flower for my love

A rose of perfect form would be my choice

A rain of roses from the sky above

Might express what I can’t yet voice.

I might well choose a daisy with no thorns

I might choose lush lipped tulip for design

But never would I send a flower forlorn

Should you reject this loving heart of mine.

But, no, I choose these roses for your bliss

For Blake wrote of a tiger not a dog;

Yet if I am made bloody by a kiss,

I shall be turned at once into a frog.

The rose with other names would still be sweet.

So, to you , with fragrance I entreat

Then numbness folded round me like a wheel.

A strange and lonely feeling held my heart
Gripping like some pincers made of steel.
From my beloved, I had had to part
Then numbness  folded round me like a wheel.

And quietness loved,  has now turned into threat
Nero-like, I  fiddle with my  tunes
Pie Jesu’s not made top ten yet!
Larks’ ascents aren’t worth much to a loon!

I phoned a friend, her voice did me no good
It echoed in the chambers of my mind
Where metal walls echo the coursing blood
And escalate these feelings so unkind

Though he l loved has gone and is now dead.
I  see his face upon my  heartless bed

A day can take to flight as does the Spring

A  day as warm and bright as in the Spring
The pine cones shiver in the gentle breeze.
The trees in bud, the birds  revel in song .

Our memories   cannot store the very thing
The air on skin, the feel  of blossom trees
A  day as dear  with light as is the Spring

On  days like this, once more we do belong
And nature will respond to make us pleased
The trees in bud, caressed with new bird song.

The sounds  of earth are silenced when phones ring
Our flesh has turned to ashes long deceased
A  day  can take to   flight as  does the Spring

We  are betrothed, the bridegroom’s in the wings
The new act starts, the play’s by  conmen seized
No consummation now, but for  the winged

I  wish that I had written more to please.
And yet the air is fresh  and we still breath
A  day of charm  may revolution bring
The trees still bud,  yet birds rebel in song.

And if love ‘s good enough, we may survive.

We need to self-deceive to stay alive
To function in this  terrifying world
And if  no trauma comes we may survive

If we watch the shadows in the cave
We have our  story ready  to unfold
We need to self-deceive to stay alive

We follow rules on how we must behave
As if into a void we might be hurled
And if  no trauma comes we may survive

The adages and  proverbs  satisfy
Unless we are attacked in our own world,
We  cannot self-deceive, are traumatised

We need the hold of  friends who’re kind and brave
We need this love that  rises when it’s shared
And if love ‘s  good enough, we may survive.

We will not scratch our wounds if we are wise.
We will not  rush to speech while wounds are bare
We need to self-deceive to stay alive

The words that mother said we can embrace
That we are loved,  despite fragmented face
We need to self-deceive to  function right
And if  no trauma comes we may survive

We live on earth and act in plays we write

We live on earth and act in plays we write
The  shadowed  drama unfolds  scene by scene
In Eden,  sin brought knowledge to our sight.

Then Freud desired to  bring the dark  more light
It’s  hard to suffer, harder still to learn
We act on earth in plays we partly write

We each have lived in ways without much light
But fire brought power and light  then  darkness gleamed
In Eden,  sin brought knowledge to our sight.

Christ was born, and yet we lived in flight
From guilt about the apple bit unseen
We act on earth in plays we   try  to write

Our play  with good and evil  has  its might
For meaning’s worthy of  our human schemes
In Eden,  wrong brought knowing to our sight.

We look and see the Christian story failed.
For the Holocaust  itself was not derailed
We live on earth and act in plays we write
The Christian play we had gave  slight insight
As refugees, as children drown who fights?