Month: Jan 2020

The branches  in the breeze  sway , cats miaow

Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs
No asking where to go or what to do
Before the blossom and  emerging bulbs

No outdoor flowers  decorate  my tubs
The waxy flowered cyclamens are few
Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs

As I watch the sparrows my heart ‘s stilled
The  politics, the corrections are subdued
Yet  trees will blossom  over crocus bulbs

The leaders seek to force a war by will
No reflection, certain what to do
Would I were a sparrow on the sill

Will the warships move their mighty hulls?
From bow to stern they ‘re filled with bombs for U
Yet  trees will blossom  over  tiny bulbs

The branches  in the breeze  sway , cats miaow
Was evolution wise for chimpanzees?
Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs
Our species cannibals ,  can we not love?

 

 

 

 

 

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?

Yes, my husband is a changed man since he died
I have  dreamed  of him  so frequently  he hides
One night we knelt  down on the kitchen floor
With brillo pads in hand we scrubbed the door

Then we cleaned the oven for two hours
Death has given him  such odd new powers
He never speaks nor asks me what to do
Thank the Lord our fireplace  no flue

I see more of him  now  that he is dead
For every night these dreams  live in my head
He does not go to work nor write more books
He goes to Ealing and he wants to cook

Should I buy some ground in the church yard?
I have his ashes standing by the lard
In the fridge the suet   waits for me
To make an apple dumpling for our tea


Oh, yes he likes to know what I shall eat
He starved to death,his heart was far too weak
But yet he likes to see  me eat and sleep
And have a little   cat next to my feet

So far I do not love another man
I should become pan-sexual if I can
For then I need  not worry who to please
I hate to lose myself  but like to tease

Should my husband see   me in the bed
With another pillow and a head
He might feel unwanted  and be sad!
Yet he left me and now I’m feeling mad

Why  clean the oven, clean the kitchen sink?
Why change the plugs and make the cat drink ink?
Why have breakfast, why eat bread and jam?
Why cook bacon in the frying pan?

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?
Why get up  when I shall later lie?
Why get washed when dirt  comes back again?
Why wash my hair and use a fountain pen?

I wonder why the floor is full of mud
And whether nature gave me enough blood.
Life is so precarious  use it well
Before we hear the  tolling of  the knell

 

 

A glowing screen

Our names wiill come up on a  glowing screen 
This is why we fund the NHS
Everyone  wants fame, to be a scream
But I  just want post traumatic  congress

I sit  down peering   furtively, bizarrely
Eventually I’m sitting there  alone
I knew I’d not fit in that  group of monsters
I am hyper vigilant  when I’m at home

Now I feel both desolate and rejected
They did not want my blood , it is too red
Then I found myself ejected
Without a lump of honey on my bread

The doctor wanted 20 different readings
At this rate it will take forever more
I see a mist of red,  my temper’s  rising
Help me to  the flexi- exit door

If this be love

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Image by Katherine

If this be love,then let me have your hate.
If you be true then let me hear your lies.
For this,  my heart, your message comes too late.
For now my need is  for the thoughtful wise.

 

If this be marriage,let me have divorce.
If this be holy,  hasten I to hell..
For love comes in its time without such force.
And of its message ?ho am I to tell?

 

If this be love,then let me dwell alone.
If this be love, I will be forever chaste.
Your  love is like a blow that breaks my bones
A love that lays your world and mine to waste

 

Real love can shake us to our inner core.

Of your self centered love. tell me no more

 

The doll

They gave me a small watch on Xmas Day
But with a watch a little child can’t play
I envied both my sisters with  new dolls
As on the old settee the dolls were lulled

I stood  there uncomprehending and alone
Had I reached unknowing a milestone?
Then my sister lent  me one of hers
I broke that little  head  upon my chair

I was holding her with tenderness
Scarcely breathing in my velvet dress
So   I sat down to   rock  my babe  awhile
The horror of   her  cracking head was vile

Now I play with  numbers and with  words
And   look back sadly at that little girl

 

We broke the symbols down and we are mad

Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread
Nothing  stays the same ,much as we hope
He drowns with refugees,  he crawls in mud

Life and God aren’t static.souls have fled
Do not deny  the loss,  nor  its great scope
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread

Europe cracked ,  a billion billion   dead
Unacknowledged evil  is the rope
He burned with  Europe’s Jews ,we lust in bed

The War’s not gone, it lives inside the head
We do not need a thousand microscopes
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread

The symbol’s done, the  bread of heaven ‘s bad
We “Christians” were not there when Jesus  spoke
Christ burned with  gypsies, queers , was shot unclad

It’s over, people,what  we  never read.
We  ruined  the world ,  destroyed the ones who fled
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread
He drowned  and burned was shot,he’s truly dead

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anthropomorphism is my default now

 

 

 

This photo is copyright   to me

 

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthropomorphism

I treated this strange creature  with great care
I  knew she was not human, so unfair
She looked like my old cat before it died
Someone give her food,  make sure it’s fried

She could not mew nor bark nor did she speak
I did not tell her that she was a freak
She liked to use her hair as a defence
Peering out  as if in recompense

But if I’d cut it off, she would have screamed
As she watched  the music  fly in streams
She saw her visions and she talked to Lights
Noone  human   is vouchsafed such sights

But still I   liked to gorge on her cheese flan
She might not act  quite human but   who can?