It is too often forgotten that the gift of speech, so centrally employed, has been elaborated as much for the purpose of concealing thought by dissimulation and lying as for the purpose of elucidating and communicating thought. – Wilfred Bion
The widowed man and I near drowned in tears When meeting by the bus stop down the road Missing those who loved us all these years
Through loss itself , we’re vulnerable to fear The face shows each one’s horror like a code The widowed man and I gave way to our deep tears
We think we’re on a plateau, we ignore That we are on a downward slope, age goads We’re missing those we loved despite old scores
The cold wind and the rain were listening ears To our sad speech when comfortless, alone We’re widowed and enraged by salty tears
Is this pain a selfish one to share Waiting for our little bus to show? We’re missing our old lovers and their care
Now we know not what to eat or dare
We both catch on, this hint that life’s unfair So widowed both, enfeebled by lost tears Between us we have loved a hundred years
yt
“I should perhaps here state explicitly something that will, I suspect, already have become clear; that I have no wish to dilate on the psychodynamics of the literary imagination. I must, however, state my impression, my conviction, that people who possess negative capability to a high degree seem not to conceive of themselves as opposed to an alien environment which they have to master by “irritable reaching after fact and reason,” but rather as a part of the universe which is capable of absorbing the whole into itself and then re-creating it by distillation in imaginative works; in other and psychoanalytical words, their relationship to “external reality” remains identificatory, without any drawing of impermeable ego boundaries between themselves and other people and other things. And secondly, they seem to be refreshingly free from the conventional notion that activity is masculine and passivity is feminine, and can therefore oscillate between active and passive states of being without feeling that their identity is threatened by doing so. As a result they can, for instance, imagine themselves into characters of the opposite—or rather other—sex as readily as into characters of their own.”
The brother silenced by disease lies still Like a cat lies in the hedge awaiting death Where are his choices, where his powerful will?
Freedom’s an illusion we distil He felt he had free choices on his path Oh,brother frozen by disease be still
To the strongest , losing choice is hell But death will come despite our crashing wrath There are few choices, little we can will
The lowly lean on God when they are ill Like Jesu did, they bear their heavy cross Oh brother will your frozen muscles kill?
Only rich folk ask to be fulfilled They have their own wishes as their boss Accepting all we die.sweet animals
He’s left it late to act , which man can choose
To find the ghostly fire where burns the rose? The soul prepares and bears the body still We only choose our attitude , go well
I wrote this in November but I reproduce it as it relates to my post about Dreams
This photo is by Mike Flemming 2020 copyright
Enlightened by the feel of soft sunbeams Knowing it is stronger to sit still The entrance opens to the hall of dreams
The eye grows wide. our vision limpid leans Until our reverie has got its fill The mind’s intentions and its wandering schemes
Warnings come in nightmares, how to heed? The pain grows stronger like a workman’s drill The pathway leads to far more fearsome dreams
Are we puppets strangling on our leads? Who ‘s the master, who must pay the bill, Receive the mind’s intentions and its schemes?
High and low let interact and tell How to find our way and what to kill The entrance opens to world of dreams
The mind’s intentions, its mutating schemes
We must heed Liam Hudson’s (1985) warning that dreams are our “last wilderness,” to be protected with the same fervour as the rain forests, the ozone layer, and the whale. As the only natural oases of spiritual vitality left to us, dreams are among our most precious possessions and we must stand up to those who would diminish the value that we place on them.
So my copse has ripened to a wood How many living creatures dwell within? The shades of green, the sunshine, and the Good
Once we had three apple trees,a glut Today, too old to fruit, they stand there still My copse has turned into a little wood
Neighbours hint that I get my trees cut Yet these leaves of green make my heart full The shades of green, the sun the wind ,the gods
Once we read there was a total Flood Now we have the bush fires and their will Still, my copse has turned into a wood
Trees have their green sap where we have blood They will never wound, will never kill The shades of green, the sun the wind ,the gods
Just like Eve and Adam we may sin The maple waves away my mental pain My copse has turned into my private wood The shades of green, the long path, come my Love.
The child too shy to join a little group Or shamed by her old clothing and her shoes The one who feels they don’t fit in or match The one who suffered early from the blues
The barren wife, no virgin yet unused The girl so clever yet she was well bruised The middle age of suffering ends and views The loneliness of age with none amused
The man too nervous to make any move The man who cannot pass yet cannot love The aging figure hopelessly bemused The sperm still leaping,never to be used.
Some are in and others are outside How few stayed with Jesus as he cried! If we were more like him we would now mix With the people who fall through the cracks.
A hint of suffering in the edge of eye A hint of sadness by the mouth denied A hint of being tired of one’s own life A hint that maybe someone wants to die
My brother charmed the ladies on the bus He charmed the teachers and the parish priest When at home he spared no charm for us
When I asked him why he said,because. Those do best who say the very least My brother charmed old ladies on the bus
I asked him to be kind; said he was I ate the green herbs at his marriage feast When at home he had no charm for us
With age he grew much closer, in the blood He was not a friend , he was a beast My brother charmed old ladies and the fuzz
Now he’s changed, he’s almost getting good We seem more like each other in life’s tests When at home he had no charm for us
I don’t know why he fought.I had no rest But I bequeath him love if I go first My brother charmed old ladies on the bus Now at home he has learned charm for us
An act of war when no war is declared Makes war a problem of the entire world Now we see a plane burn in the air Was this just an accident bizarre?
No land is safe, all meadows killing fields We all are soldiers, none of us have shields We must pretend for how else can we live To make the children safe, what must we give?
Once we had imperatives,now gone There is no order, ethics are undone War is undeclared , we now shall share The fate so many suffer unprepared
Global markets lead to global war The essence of the incident lies bare
I wonder what’s the reason we call a sad mood blue My fountain pen is coping but I have not got the glue I see your eye is staring and I know it is a clue Send me to the theatre and I will get the cue
I wanted to get dressed today but I couldn’t find my shoe I watched a film of cows on heat, all they say is moo Would they change their attitude if I was still with you? Take me to America. take me to the Zoo
I have got no appetite.I need someone new The food is very boring, it’s made with UHU You put it in the microwave and send a text or two Blimey,I forgot it was a homemade real beef stew
Well, the moon is shining and Paul Robeson gleams in glee I want the stars to play with me, they pray for very few
In my fantasy I swear till blue The colour of the sea and sky in June My velvet skirt and tights are the same hue
I have a pair of boots, a tube of glue In case my skirt falls off in a sand dune In my fantasy I wear much blue
My skirt did slip down yesterday, it’s true When I put the key in and it turned My velvet skirt and tights were liked by Hugh
Hello, it’s only me so wet with dew After walking through a mass of ferns In my fantasy still wearing blue
When I have a fever or the flu I wear blue pyjamas as I burn My velvet house-coat is just that same blue hue
Should we call the doctor and complain The traffic’s swerving round from lane to lane In my fantasy I’m wearing blue My velvet skirt and jacket ,where are you?
How any degrees are there in a right mangled triangle?
Is any parallelogram square?
Is a square a rectangle?
How many angles are there in an ellipse?
How many angels are there altogether?
Can a cube go flat?
Why was there only one snake in Eden?
How many apples did Eve use to make her pudding?
Did you ever get excited by quadratic equations?
Did Q E s want to be solved?
Do you feel equipped to follow my Log?
Why not do it yourself?
Why not have an uncivil partnership?
You saw it here first
1
Soup of the Prey
Onion Croup
Chicken Froth
Vegetarian Bean Duped
Ma’s Night Jelly
Avocado Prayers with Lemon and Olives Boiled
2
Corned Beef Crash with Lash
Toad on the Whole
Fish with Lips
Sausages Past
Beef Miaow and Ballad
Roast Pram and Hint Sauce
Holly Flowers Wheeze
Willy Fun Barmy
3
Iced Reams with Rasps
Mice Sudden and Fried Eyedrops
Fresh Foot Salad and Beans
Bilberry Fooled
Cart Blank Mange
Caramel Bastard
Tiger’s Pudding
Demo Scene Ah
4
Cheese and Whiskers
Toffee au lait
Free Bed and Butter thrown in
Chips with Bolt free for all rages
Pot of Tea free with any blood
Thank you to our customer for praying now and again
What was he doing, the great god Pan,
Down in the reeds by the river?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat
With the dragon-fly on the river.
He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep cool bed of the river:
The limpid water turbidly ran,
And the broken lilies a-dying lay,
And the dragon-fly had fled away,
Ere he brought it out of the river.
High on the shore sat the great god Pan
While turbidly flowed the river;
And hacked and hewed as a great god can,
With his hard bleak steel at the patient reed,
Till there was not a sign of the leaf indeed
To prove it fresh from the river.
He cut it short, did the great god Pan,
(How tall it stood in the river!)
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,
And notched the poor dry empty thing
In holes, as he sat by the river.
'This is the way,' laughed the great god Pan
(Laughed while he sat by the river),
'The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music, they could succeed.'
Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,
He blew in power by the river.
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!
Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly
Came back to dream on the river.
Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:
The true gods sigh for the cost and pain,—
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.
You know you are superfluous,alone When going to the dentist makes your day Lying in the chair without a groan Although you shut your eyes and say a prayer
A gentle hand, a polite word or four The nurse who gives you water is so kind I hope I shall not go there anymore But what is lurking,waiting in my mind?
Shall I find dating site and see The kind of man attracted by my smile What is love and what will come to be I feel a lack of cunning and of wiles.
As the clock ticks, we are getting old Who will help us when we feel so cold?
I brought home a kitten from a friend So tiny yet so fierce he bit my hands We could not find him when we came back home He was tucked in with the sheet under the foam
We had no garden so we took him out Wrapped in a wool cardigan,I think He lay contented on my knee all day Looking at the trees and coloured sky
When mature he roamed the night away Sleeping in a rocking chair all day Benjamin, we called him, was run down In the rush hour by a speeding clown,
The amber eyes of Benjamin would glow
He gave us happiness,we loved him so
Do you remember when we bombed Iraq? No doubt the war was for the good of man Yeah, some would die, and others feel their lack
By and large, what does it mean to sack? Real democracy was said to be the plan Do you remember when we bombed Iraq?
In Downing St will Blair have a blue plaque? His conviction, where did it begin? Yeah, some would die, and others feel their lack
Now the Leader wanders in the gaps But we no longer call such deeds a sin Do you remember when we bombed Iraq?
At night when we can’t sleep, we see attacks Where to start, well Trump suggests Iran Yeah, some will die, but there is heaven for wrecks
Since we write, we read our scripts again Civilised, we use our manners well Do you remember when we bombed Iraq? Yeah, we chose to follow Evil’s tracks
Annie went onto Mary’s patio at 10 am and began to water her many tubs.The watering can was filled with rain water though the weather was now a little drier.Emile ran behind her admiring her tight black jeans from Calvin Klein and her red blouse from Bowlands of Wrath.Suddenly the bedroom window opened and Mary leaned out.
Hi Annie,I have not gone away after all.I
Why not? asked her caring and dear neighbour loutishly.
Well,I completely forgot because I was out last night meeting a man from Soul-mates and got home so late I slept right through the alarm.
A pity you didn’t bring him back,said Annie licking her lips.
I cant bring any man here so soon,Mary informed her.I rang the hotel and cancelled my booking.With the weather so odd even Blackpool Illuminations would not cheer anyone up.I didn’t know which clothes to take either.
Isn’t it interesting that as we get better off we get problems like that,remarked Annie. When we were young we had so few clothes we had no trouble packing.
Mary laughed.My first year after University I bought two cotton dresses in Woolworth’s.I thought they were ok but later discovered they were almost transparent.Anyway we wore them and threw them away.But now few women wear dresses.Look at you in those jeans and you a pensioner!
Annie gazed up to Mary, revealing her thick Revlon skin polish and L’Oreal cream rich foundation in golden grey-beige.Her parted lips were coated in moisture rich coral lipstick by Mussolini and Co. of Argentina and Vienna.
Mary was wearing a long nightgown made of pure nylon decorated with photos of cats of all breeds.Emile had given it her for her birthday.He had managed to type it into the google box on his laptop paying with Stan’s credit card from the Bank of Vichy and Nice,France.
I want some tea,Mary said.Soon she appeared in a polyester house dress from Daxon of Paris and the Ruhr. lt was covered in pictures of snakes.
Why,those snakes are rather horrible, Annie said.
I know snakes are in fashion but I shall avoid them.I saw some trousers in Marks but they might give a man the wrong impression.
That is sexist ,Mary told her shyly.They might give a lesbian the wrong impression too.
Oh,dear. Isn’t life hard now when we have to be so careful what we say.I wonder if it is because of social alienation and the rapid changes in demographics that we need rules when before we knew all our neighbours and they knew us.With strangers we need more rules.
I agree, said Mary defiantly.And I just saw a book called “Compassionate Assertiveness Training”She laughed.
Shall we send one to Donald Trump.Can you believe what America is like if a man like that can be President?
Well,it’s a democracy so if Satan lived there he could stand if he had the money..
The two women suddenly fell silent.Emile was puzzled as they rarely paused like this once they got going
Is he the anti-Christ, purred the little cat.
Satan or Donald Trump? asked Annie.
Well …. we’ve never seen Satan as yet…But we must watch out in case he comes here to punish the weak and the sick.
Well that gave them all a moment of wonder before Mary grilled some bacon and cut some bread from a loaf she got in the Victoria Bakery.
Here you are,she said to Annie,handing her a sandwich.Better eat anyway,whatever happens.Give me some hot tea,quick
And so pray all of us.
For he’s a Bally Woodfiller,
He’s a Wooly Sad Triller
And all day so are us.
Gently dancing in the sun,
Wildflowers grow;
they bloom,
are gone.
With no thoughts,they have no cares;
And their lives are gentle prayers.
May I walk in such a way
That I am alive to this day.
So I see with widening view,
And joy and sorrows embrace too.
Then my time will come like yours
And of us nothing shall endure.
As to the earth our bodies go,
All are one;it shall be so
Now Cain does not kill Abel his own kin With his drones he kills men faraway As if his hatred can’t be held within
We can feel enraged as can women,men When others needs decide the game we play So envious Cain killed Abel, his own kin
In the end , dark Cain could never win Regret,remorse,reaction,reckless day He had no space for calming rage within
With new powers, Cain can bomb Iran Convulsive hate enjoyed, then perhaps dismay? But Cain does not kill Abel. his own kin
Have we learned no lessons from Japan?
I am become death,I heard O say Visions of the burning with no skin
There will be reactions some grave day More death, more suffering, what can we declare? If Cain does not kill Abel what comes then? Does hatred find new targets, distant men?
My husband had never looked livid He died down in ourA and E. His colour was vivid His hair was all withered He cried,Where the hell do I be?
I said,you’re in bed with a lady So I’ll arrange for a speedy divorce. You’ll have to hurry, If you wish to re-marry. If needs be, I shall use polite force.
He winked at me solemn as Moses After wandering the Sinai for years. He said,Dear I love you There’ no lady above you Don’t spend too much on my hearse.
Would you like me to marry my lover? He’s gone cold waiting out in the shed! He said,don’t ask me yet for My mood’s on a see -saw Take whom you like when you wed.
But first give me a nice service Sing Pie Jesu for me! Your voice is so sweet It shall be my last treat. Oh,Lord,how I deeply love thee.
I said that is very ambiguous Do you love me best or Jesu? He said I love both Yet I love God the most. So there’s not very much I can do.
He imitated a dying philanderer. But alas it was only too real. My hand on his nose Almost gave up the ghost. It froze and it stuck like a seal.
Oh,doctor can you separate us For I am not yet quite dead? My only concern Is to take a short turn As my boyfriend is alone in the shed.
You sinner,the doctor said to me You committed adultery twice. Well,I had to be kind My boyfriend’s half blind. Is that an excuse for my vice?
I didn’t want love in the garden As we might have frightened a snail. It’s not quite infidelity To love a man gently When your husband’s as dead as a nail.
Anyway,my heart is no longer alive,doc In the shadow of death ,life is weak I pretended to be wicked As my husband often bickered Diabetics make their carers feel bleak.
I see you were lost in fantasia, While singing the psalms to your spouse. I shall forgive you No-one else lives like you. You have often kept your wedding vows.
What do you mean saying often? He’s the only man I’ve ever loved. For his sense of humour Cleared out all my gloomour I called him my chicken,my dove.
The force of procreation is violent And drives lonely women to bed. God made us like this As he made grass snakes hiss. Upon hearing this the doc fled!
My lover is a man of many words Most of them are totally absurd When I asked him why he had to speak He said ,I was only thinking on my feet
I met him is the staff room yesterday He says he is putting on a Shakespeare Play I guess it’s chance just who we get to meet Are we only learning on our feet ?
He is wholly reticent on the phone His silence makes me feel I am alone So we went to Express Pizza for a treat Are we only eating with our feet ?
He reads Tolstoy, he reads Sherlock Holmes He reads those little numbers on the phone He is a vegetarian,how sweet Are we keen on keeping off our feet ?
He likes learning languages so much We have to dream in Yiddish,Greek and Dutch He has been to Russia. quite discreet Are they prone to sleeping on their feet ?
I like cooking lemons and meringues He is getting violent hunger pangs I thought it was a hurricane with sleet But we were only freezing on our feet
We must be creative as we talk
Listen and pay heed if men look fraught
Lord have mercy, I am far too light
I am levitating on my feet
![M4103903 [1024x768].JPG](https://words-cat.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/m4103903-1024x768.jpg?w=640&h=853)
M
How my heart sings 