Time

Do we wait for hints from other Realms?
Though hints can be  confusing to the dead
Oh, let life run  like seas that overwhelm

We first look after those who are  becalmed
As hints can  be a nuisance when unfed
Do we care for hints from other Realms?

Spiritual  rules become embalmed
And hints fill shyer people with deep dread
As does life  with seas that overwhelm

Was our life an accident designed?
Do we want our hints  to be unread?
Do we share our hints from other times?

What is compassion  worth when  life’s unkind?
Where are the arms that opened when we bled?
What is life  that seas  should overwhelm?

What is life  for those who have no bed?
Sacred are all children  underfed
Do not wait for hints   and special signs
The  little voice  beneath the noise calls time

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Love Bade Me Welcome – from Love (III) by George Herbert

 Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back.
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack’d anything.

A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungrateful? Ah, my deare,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.

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Behind glass… a defense

caught-red-handed-2

Have you ever felt you were behind a pane of glass? I did once many years ago after a friend committed  suicide.It must be a protective  condition but it is painful and odd.Everyone else seems ok ,you imagine,but you are not a part
.In reality many people may be feeling like you do and putting on a performance while out at work or socialising.We are probably wiser as we grow older as we know more people better and see we are not  unique in our suffering and pain; we know that feelings pass,even the worst ones and we may have become better at judging others and knowing if friends die  by suicide it’s probably not our fault

When one feels that way it has to be accepted for the time being, like all feelings,I found reading poetry helped me and also being with others in a group where I could sit and listen without pressure to speak.I like this poem from then.It was a favorite  of Simone Weil,the mystic.

LOVE BADE ME WELCOME  by George Herbert

 

 Love Bade Me Welcome – from Love (III)

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back.
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack’d anything.

A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungrateful? Ah, my deare,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.

Sin,does it still exist?

30002.jpgI have been  wondering why the term sin has almost died out in our language and I think  for many of us who were brought up in a very strict version of Christianity it became too painful  for us to think about it.
We were made to feel ashamed  of our failures so much so that we abandon the whole idea of sin.
We don’t know as children that it is very difficult to live without making mistakes and our emotions run away with us so that we hurt other children….
But now looking at the world as it is,maybe it would be better of more adults admitted making dreadful mistakes.And we know  free will may not be as free as we think.But if we accept we do sin then it makes us more tolerant of others around us…If we were perfect it might make us self righteous and judgemental which to me seems a perversion of religion.Yet this is happening  in the world today.
I have read that it is very hard for Catholics,even lapsed one,to be able to  have a successful psychoanalysis because the conscience is so harsh.We cannot easily alter it.
So it is not surprising we don’t like the word sin.
It is interesting that being thought of as sinners means we are quite powerful,If our errors are caused by human weakness it is more painful to see ourselves as weak and vulnerable yet we are.We all need others.

Grace may enter here

We used to learn from talking to our friends
Our neighbours in communities now gone
Gone too are the preachers and the saints
And there’s gap to fill but how’s that done?

Oh,  buy a tabloid like the  Daily Wail
It’s full of gossip lies , crude images
Like  the words we swapped by village wells
Lies and truth and problems that enraged

Now the people we live by are  who?
We know not of their work,religion,place
We see their faces as they pass at speed
We see no smiles, no love, just a strained face.

There is a gap  but we must keep it clear;
For sometimes grace will  enter, conquering fear

 

We

Yet  our humanity they desecrate.

The anger of the trapped bull  made to fight
In ring enclosed with no way to escape
Full of useless  strength and less insight

Even with intelligence and light
His self respect and being are both raped
The anger of the trapped bull  made to fight

Like our nuclear weapons and their might
If we use them we destroy all hope
So full of useless  strength and no insight

In discussions , all sides  play polite.
Yet  our humanity they desecrate.
The anger of the trapped ones  made to fight.

Most leaders are   giant infants with the gripes
Not thoughtful people willed to dedicate
Full of useless  strength and no insight

The theatres of new wars, of blood,of hate
Are where the moment leads,ill consecrates.
The torment of the  huge  bull  made to fight
Full of useless  strength and less insight

Post-truth, post-God, post meaning, post remorse

Who should speak, which people have a voice?
Can we trust the ones who’ve told such lies
Post-truth, post-God, post meaning, post remorse?

If we’re wounded, who shall give recourse?
Does it matter to them what we’re tortured by?
Who should speak, which people own their voice?

If we hear bad news, what is its source?
See the bodies  hear the babies cry,
Post-truth, post-God, post meaning, post remorse?

Can we spread democracy by force?
Is it still democracy post-war?
Who should speak, which people own their voice?

Which of all the methods is the choice?
What is politics the reason for,
Post-truth, post-God, post meaning, post remorse?

If I speak, will you believe I lie?
The tongues of angels whisper, what of Troy
Who should speak, which people have a voice?
Post-truth, post-God, post meaning, post remorse

 

 

Poetry can convey what prose cannot

Photo0124.jpghttps://www.theguardian.com/education/2000/feb/23/tefl2

 

“Given these difficulties, is poetry worth the effort? What can a good poem offer the language learner that a good newspaper article or authentic dialogue can’t?

The answer has to do with things such as richness of meaning, diversity and ambiguity. In ELT textbooks students are usually presented with oral and written texts whose meaning can be fairly confidently ascertained: these texts have a meaning and you, the learner, can discover it. Poetry is different. The reader is a much more active participant in working out the meaning – or rather the range of meanings – of the text. The reader brings his or her own experience to the poem. The idea that the meaning of a text can vary according to the person reading it will be a new and refreshing one for many students.

A well-chosen poem encourages teachers to ask questions such as, “What do you think this means?” When students realise that “I’m not sure” is an acceptable answer to such questions, a whole new way of thinking about meaning is opened up.

So using poems in class encourages a diversity of views and a healthy debate about meaning. What else? Well, good poems deal with issues and concerns that are important to students – growing up, love and loss, the animal world and our relationship to it, perhaps even (sadly) war and peace.

The key phrase here is “well-chosen”. You’ve got to find poems that are at the right level for your students, both linguistically and in terms of content. This isn’t easy. On the other hand, there’s no point in feeding students an unrelieved diet of whimsy.”