Fitting the within

When your world cracks open and  throws your body down
When your world evaporates and turns you into steam
When your world disfigures you and you seem like a clown
Don’t be quick to build again, there’s value in these schemes.

Many worlds are possible and here’s the pattern book
Don’t be hasty in your ways, better far to look
Fearful on the precipice and fearful on the hill
Fearful of the loneliness, yet cold lovers can kill

Stand alone on trembling legs and see  a different view
When you find your destiny, you feel renewed.
Everything is blurry now,  poor eyes cannot adapt
But when the legs get steadier, vision will correct.

No mother dear nor father strong can help you with their care
We must be quite separate for our new world to bare.
The world is new inside the gap where symbols grow and swirl
And across the sky above the stars dance all a whirl

Safety and security if taken on too soon
Lessen the alternatives and may lead down to doom
Courage to the child we are, courage in our hearts
In the forms now visible we will find new shape.

Less like armour plating,  more like pliant skin,
Fitting us externally and fitting the within

Life etc

Soul making is a phrase from Keats.

{ link to article by Jeffrey C. Johnson in Paris Review]

We saw Wolf Hall on TV recently and it is so wonderful.I am just writing down a few of my thoughts not about that but about Anne Boleyn… I meant it to be funny but I could n’t manage that after seeing the play.

ANNE BOLEYN

Anne Boleyn withheld to win
As Henry lusted in his sin.

Once a virgin, sweet Madonna;
Henry turned in rage on her.

She bore him but one living child,
For her quips, she was reviled.

Henry knew not the fault was his
It seems the king had syphilis.

Or Anne was rhesus negative
then just her first born child would live.

We, women, make our worst mistake
When power for love we wrongly take

Our strength lasts but till we submit.
We need less love and far more wit.

Whatever lusty men may say,
their “love” dies when they get their way.

And they will take their wife by force
As cannons pound on oaken doors.

As for women, we must not
Promise gold we have not got.

Conception is a game of chance;
We come to be by happenstance.

We sin in pride in promising
What only God or Nature bring.

We deceive and trick and charm
At last our hearts bang in alarm

The man who begged upon his knees
Chops off our heads when we displease.

For Emperors and Kings and Lords
Wield fearful power by the sword.

Yet when for judgement they shall stand
How will point the knowing hand?

And just like us they’ll ashen be
When true majesty they see.

Into dust and crumbled ruin
They will go by their own doing.

Each day create with grace your soul.
Cracked shall be the golden bowl.

Keats wrote this extract below [read all by clicking on soul above[ and he died when aged  only 25 years:

I will call the world a School instituted for the purpose of teaching little children to read—I will call the human heart the horn Book used in that School—and I will call the Child able to read, the Soul made from that school and its hornbook. Do you not see how necessary a World of Pains and troubles is to school an Intelligence and make it a soul? A Place where the heart must feel and suffer in a thousand diverse ways!

Go elsewhere

Life’s   for  strangers in the city here,
Who left their birthplace wanting  better pay
So many  people’s faces look afeared

The mass of crowds  brings on this paranoia
While Georgian buildings,  beautiful, decay
Life’s   an  alien in the city here

From the doorways ugly faces leer
Like evil children,  tantalised dismayed
Many people,  nobody is near.

The birds don’t sing, sometimes I hear them jeer
They fly in circles in a  bold display
Life’s as hot as Hades, living here.

My eye is dry, it lacks a single tear
While I become more static with despair
Many people,  nobody who’s near.

Why can’t I be merry, like cards say?
Why do thoughts so savage my heart flay
Life is  lonely in the city’s lairs
If you like kind and calmness, go elsewhere