Month: Jan 2018

There’s no test

To let go of expectation is  the best
The task that comes before and after all
Your image, your importance, there’s no test

The  life we lead ‘s to very few confessed
The birth, the growth,the life and then the fall
To let go of expectation is  the best

Who could ever want Eternal rest?
Every European builds a wall
Your image, your importance, there’s no test

The fact of being alive, we must digest
Some know zilch and others “know it all”
To let go all expectation is  the best

Like worms inside the earth,  we will undress
The readiness is all, a story told
Your image, your importance, there’s no test

Life ends for the weak and for the bold
By the dark earth we will be consoled
To let go of expectation is  the best
Your image, your importance never last

Down comes Love

Photo0180_001

Now I see the shadows on the wall
And in my heart. I feel the savage loss
Down I come, and with the dust, I fall

Once I scarcely saw the bad at all
And did not think of love and what it cost
Now I see the shadows on the wall

Down amid the weeds I find my call
And  mixed with dark green leaves I am compost
As down I come, and to the dust, I fall

Brilliance cannot last and life appals
In between my cells comes sudden frost
Oh, I feel the cracks within my walls

We  love between the lines with all we feel
Then broken by the cold we join the lost
Down we come, and into  dust, we fall

Must we live and what shall living cost?
Is it ours to judge the present past?
As I watch the shadows on the wall
Down  comes Love and  holds me as I fall

 

That there Paul Klee

I got water in my shoes again today
First of all it rained and then it snowed
So I shan’t be going out  in case I stray

I  bought myself some wellies on E bay
My feet are big,I wonder if they grow?
I got water in my shoes again today

I finally grew to love that there Paul Klee
I like the way his lines just seem to flow
I shan’t be going   out  for Shaw’s new play

In winter time the air gets rather grey
Which  matched with the darkness of the soul
I got water in my shoes again today

Life is  good and we drink tea all day
We get fun looking out for  barmy trolls
I shan’t be going  in the dark to play

On and on the endless waves  shall  roll
Then the church bell  answers with its toll
I’ve got water in my  eyes again today
So I shan’t be  putting on a Shakespeare play

Look, Stranger by Auden

https://allpoetry.com/Look,-Stranger
    Look, stranger, on this island now
The leaping light for your delight discovers,
Stand stable here
And silent be,
That through the channels of the ear
May wander like a river
The swaying sound of the sea.
Here at a small field’s ending pause
Where the chalk wall falls to the foam and its tall ledges
Oppose the pluck
And knock of the tide,
And the shingle scrambles after the suck-
-ing surf, and a gull lodges
A moment on its sheer side.Far off like floating seeds the ships
Diverge on urgent voluntary errands,
And this full view
Indeed may enter
And move in memory as now these clouds do,
That pass the harbour mirror
And all the summer through the water saunter.,

 

 

We hear God howl

I learned a hymn in our old kirk.
I realized then that God doesn’t work.
I think he sometimes laughs and cries.
When one thing grows,another dies.
We went to church and we all sang.
The organ played and the big bells rang.
But we never heard the answer then
till a strange loud voice called out,”Ah! Men!”
I’m not sure if we were made to sing.
Yet, what but joy can we each bring?
The psalms will comfort us at night.
And in the dawn we see the Light.
Then we rise up and our songs float out.
The cats miaow as they run about.
The dogs join in to bark and growl.
And from the sky we hear God howl

Water colour love

W

Like two watercolour pictures  left outside in   rain
Our colours mingled till just love remained
Two watercolour paintings without frames,
Became  one picture  over time.
Yet two of us still there.
Our colours blended naturally,
Now all the hues are shared.
I love your colours intermixed with mine:
Together they have made a new design.
A Watercolour picture softened by the rain,
We may go, but  our Watercolor Love will  yet remain

How does my mind sound?

001.jpg
Cubism simplified by Katherine

I bet Saatchi bought Tracey Emin’s bed because he was  confused and thought he was in Harrods shopping for new furniture.
I could paint better than Jackson Pollock because I can’t see in 3 dimensions.So I would not hesitate the throw paint all over a  large rectangle of paper.It’s a bit like Jesus feeding the five thousand…. as if they were birds
Wow,I missed my vocation.To be  divine.
I like Picasso.He liked bulls so logically it follows I like bulls  yet that is false so logic is rubbish or I  am of unsound mind

How  does your mind sound?

The candle flares, the match ignites the wick

The candle flares, the match ignites the wick
The light made decorates the  Sabbath meal
Catch the moment,life goes all too quick

From the chaos, fragments must be plucked
Call it sense or do we have to steal?
The light flares as the match ignites the wick

From your fragment, make a  world of love
Do not question whether  it is real
Live the moment,life goes all too quick

Love is not created by the stick
Fear is what the little children feel
The light flares as the match ignites the wick

Watch children blowing bubbles and then kiss
The  happiness  before which saints might kneel
Catch each moment,life goes all too quick

From the inner eye the shutter peel
In that little space the world’s   revealed
The candle flares, the match ignites the wick
Catch the moment,life goes,ah, too quick

To strands of words

Can I be an addict to this form,
Not to drugs or drink but strands of words
The villanelle which enjoys many rhymes

How is it I give my little time
In making necklaces for singing birds
Can I be an addict to this form?

Well, writing many poems is no crime
Yet conversation’s better if it’s heard
A villanelle  gives voice by its two rhymes

I shall  wander round these capes and horns
Seeking solace ,nerves  still over-jarred.
Can I be an addict to this form?

Dare I say I write merely to warn
That gambling is not good unless it’s spare
Like villanelles  which have only half rhymes

My dearest love, I find my words unfair
When you never hear them nor refer
Shall I stay an addict to  your form,
The  man of humour,love and appetite.

 

 

What is a photon?

14595750_798175196989027_2325083202367244304_n.jpghttps://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/photon

 

photon

NOUN

Physics 

  • A particle representing a quantum of light or other electromagnetic radiation. A photon carries energy proportional to the radiation frequency but has zero rest mass.

    Example sentences

Origin

Early 20th century: from Greek phōs, phōt- ‘light’, on the pattern of electron.

Pronunciation

photon

/ˈfəʊtɒn/

The floor

My stomach ached and my rear end was sore
The book did not distract me from the pain
Weak as milk, I crawled across the floor

And there was no other through the door
If I fainted I would rise again
My stomach ached and my rear end was sore.

I grabbed  a book and read the words of Shaw
My nose bled brightly leaving a great stain
Weak as milk, I crawled across the floor

Oh, where was my cat Alfred  with his paws?
He could  sit  and never show disdain
My stomach ached and my rear end was sore

Would I were a worm without a brain
Would the good of humankind were plain
My stomach ached and my rear end was sore
Weak as milk, I cried upon the floor

Do not test  the patience of your friends

Do not test  the patience of your friends
You loved ones, your dearest and your foes
By silent drawing back when near the end

In any case soon darkness will descend
And into dust and debris we will go
Do not test  the patience of your friends

Stretch out your hand across the ocean wild
Despite the gales and fiercest winds that blow
Do not draw back when life’s near the end

Silence  makes us holy or defiled
Let that not be turned to evermore
Do not  try the patience of your friends

To those you loved and hated, your words send
Forget the  testing and the keeping score
And silent drawing back when fear doubt lends

Life can have an open or closed door.
Meaning is what  we humans are here for.
Do not despair  or  throw off your old friends
By silent drawing back when  near the end

No appetite

Shelves of well used books on food and wine
Stab me in the heart and in the mind
Now it is a task to eat at all
No appetite, no will,no hunger call.

The peppers red  have turned to mush and juice
Courgettes dissolve to water if left loose
The bacon looks as tempting as a toad
The bread is going green ,so a la mode

Yet Weetabix is not a dish to share
No man or woman’s tempted by such fare.
An egg on toast may pass for a real meal
One swallows it with no attempt to feel.

Yet starving is a slow and foolish way
Get a gun or from this madness  stray.

 

How the famous died

Hawfinch_Northmoor_2018-1Picasso: Got bored by a bull.
Elizabeth 1st:Died owing to not breathing any more
Monet:went dotty and fell into a deep bed of poppy seeds
Cezanne:Ate the wrong apple.
Mary Queen of Scots: lost her head.
Henry Moore:Got trapped in the Underground.
Michaelangelo:Fell of his ladder.
Manet:got confused with Monet and fell of his chair.
Kierkegaard:Trembled too much.
Bertrand Russell:Got stuck in a layer cake.
The White Queen:went grey and died of depression.
Pascal:His heart had too many reasons.
Descartes:He just  stopped thinking one day.
Plato:The cave entrance got blocked by spammers .
Socrates:He tried to dial Ogg thrice and the phone box caved in.
Wittgenstein:Became too late for his own good
The Siren:replaced by a foghorn and died of boredom and rage
Salome:Her head fell into the washing up bowl
Delilah: was strangled by Samson’s hair.

Babies speak Greek

Hawfinch_Northmoor_2018-2My biggest disappointment in life was going to school
How come?
I thought we’d be learning Greek
What in the Primary School when you could not even read English
Well babies here speak English before they can read anything
A good point.
Perhaps they speak Greek too but their parents don’t know.
Why not?
Because they don’t speak Greek.
An intriguing theory

How to speak Yarkish

How much is to Yark?
Where is it?
In North Yarkshire.
Why do you speak like that?
Like what?
Well how do you pronounce  pork?
Park!
And how do you say Park
Paheck.
Why the heck?
We love the word “heck” especially with no aitch
What’s an aitch?
It’s what we leave off until we pass the 11 plus
Suppose you fail?
Do you mean fehil?
Why the aitch in the middle?
To separate the vowels
You mean the vawls?
Now, you are doing it
On Ilkley Mohor ba’ht  ‘at
Be orf
You  must mean, be arf
To b or not to b
To h or not to h
Go and come no more
Frum Hilkley Mohor ba’ht ‘at

Power  destroys the lives  of all its whores

Whirling in the winter wind, dead leaves
Dry and brown and broken ever more
Send their substance to the souls bereaved

People pray and yet do not believe
Christ was born  and angels  him adored
On the winter wind float dying  leaves

By our spirits may we be deceived,
Even in the heart’s most hidden core,
Sharing   presence with all us bereaved?

Look into the sun and fire  perceive
Power  destroys the lives  of all its whores
On the wind float  lingering, burned out leaves

For men of power think they can  God deceive
Yet even kings will die despite their  force
To lie in marble graves,  of love bereaved

Wrapped in cloths of linen, cream and coarse
With no coffin, Jesus  high  is borne
With the wind, with ashes , with dead leaves,
The photons of his love  light  hearts bereaved

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1917-2017

The men we lost in Europe,it destroyed
A generation  childless ,loveless,dumb
It’s madness making  suicidal wars

Women  lost their lovers so employed
Were made to live  in chastity like nuns
The men we lost in Europe,love destroyed

In our own heart love  dwells at the core
And like attracts what’s like itself to come
It’s madness making  suicidal wars

 

Does it matter if we’re nuns or whores
Life flows like our blood does when we’re  done
The men we lost in Europe,us destroyed

Should we wonder what our life is for?
Is this  what they call a practice run?
Is madness causing  suicidal wars?

Kings and Queens sat on  their idle thrones
While the poor fought till they were but bones
The wars we won in Europe,it destroyed
Do men  enjoy these  everlasting wars?

Red berries

Yes, red berries glow in  clear sunlight
And holly tree’s  sharp leaves give home to birds
But I am weary, ready for the night

Yes,in winter no mosquitoes bite
But coldness slows the flow of mind and word
Yet red berries sway in   breeze and light

If I were a bird, I might take flight.
To ourselves compassion must be turned
For  all are weary, ready for the night

Compare a  nuclear bomb to nature’s might
Violence and destruction  come unearned
While  blood red berries boast in   base sunlight

Crowds are gathered ready for a fight
Verbal  violence lashes and hate burns
Now I  weary, ready for the night

One wrong word might make our world  ignite
Danger sends its lovers their invites
While red berries  taunt in  love’s sunlight
I am weary, ready for the night

Poetry of WW1

Northmoor_StDenys (1)
By Mike Flemming 2018 Copyright


https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/70139/the-poetry-of-world-war-i

 

On Receiving News of the War

Snow is a strange word;
No ice or frost
Have asked of bud or bird
For Winter’s cost.
Yet ice and frost and snow
From earth to sky
This Summer land doth know,
No man knows why.
In all men’s hearts it is.
Some spirit old
Hath turned with malign kiss
Our lives to mould.
Red fangs have torn His face.
God’s blood is shed.
He mourns from His lone place
His children dead.
O! ancient crimson curse!
Corrode, consume.
Give back this universe
Its pristine bloom.
                         (Cape Town, 1

What has water got to do with it?

drawing genrleman.jpgHow much does it cost to get a hair cut?
Sorry, we don’t do  just  one hair.

How much is a shampoo?
Ten pounds more than you expect.

How much is a blow dry?
Sorry,I am out of breath.

Can you dye my hair?
I can dye it but I shan’t

Would red hair suit me?
For what?

Will a perm attract men?
No,  they are too impatient to sit for that long

How shall I look when I’m dressed up?
The same.

Am I overweight?
No, under-height.

Do you like my new coat?
Stop fishing for compliments.

Shall I have a full body massage?
No, get married again

I can’t get married again
Why not?
I have never been married

Can I date on the Internet?
In theory.

Do you have to pay for joining Soul Mates
Check your grammar.

Why are pronouns important?
To or for whom?
I see

Can I go to Bath now?
Not unless you’d like to get in with my husband
I mean on a train
Sorry, the bath is not on a train.
I was told to go to Paddington.
Why, is it a good place to pick up men?
I don’t want any men,I want Bath
I know you are foreign but we say  ” a bath”
I want to get to a Bath as I am meeting my sister  there
As well as my husband.I wonder how much  hot water we have
What has water got to do with it?
I see, you want a dry bath?
It would be nice if it were dry as I have no mac
No,dear.You don’t need clothes in a bath
You mean  they are all nudists?
Who?
The Citizens of Bath.They can’t come here anyway.
Nobody can except my husband
And you
Well, we are married.
Can you prove it?
We have the same surname
You might be siblings
Wow, that sounds grand but I only speak SQUINGLISH
And so say all of us