I dream at nights of my old friends
My husband and his loving hands
I dream of all the cats we had
Alfred who slept on the bed
He laid his head upon my foot
As I wrote a poem of love
Jimmy who was small and black
She bit my hand if I got up
I did not wish to wet the bed
She did not understand a word I said
The last night here she gazed at me
I think she knew she would not be
Lucky was the nervous one
Black and white , apartheid none
He liked my husband’s shoulder dear
He draped himself and lost all fear
Now the cats have all gone off
I am frightened by a cough
My husband comes to me at night
Fortunately he cannot bite
He touches me with tenderness
Smiles and wished me,God Bless.
When I waken I feel lost
So I have to wear a watch
I seem to have no solid self
I feel nervous of an elf
I don’t mind an angel sweet
He could rub my aching feet
I will have no other man
They are frightened of women
They don’t like to lose at Chess
They don’t like to wash my dress
They will brush my winter coat
Never ask me what I wrote
I do not wish to anger men
They might shout and bawl again
I think maybe I will turn gay
Ask a lady, what to say?
They may not understand my needs
Killing flowers to help the weeds
Talking all the weary night
On the whole they’re parasites
Also they may menstruate
I can’t give them seeds to take
So they will leave and get a man
This is where it all began
Eve and Adam,God and man
Cain and Abel, apple flan
Noah and his Ark so fine
I wish I had one in the rain
I wonder when the world will end?
I am old so be my friend
Day: February 22, 2020
Beyond
Of Genocide. who could sing or write
Just silence,impossible and stark
Yet was transmuted in a poet’s mind
Into a dance of final light and dark
Walking to their death by Mozart’s sound
Their special prayers were offered,what great trust
In Cohen’s mind the source of love engraved
Like Job before, he knew the sacred dust
Mysterious is the Lord with his demands
Christians went to Mass, reviled the Jews
Few of us will suffer, understand
Past pure reason ,feeling…God help who?
Beyond that flickering candle flame called God
We see the shadows lost, we see the Dead.
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Cliches
He got his hooks into my bleeding heart
He trapped me with a stone which had no moss
In Plato’s Cave I saw but shadows long
I wondered why I let him be my boss
All my eggs were in one ovary
I had no baskets in my abdomen
More haste has made me backwards in my tasks
I did not know my husband was a man
Innocence prolonged led me astray
The early birds had stolen all the worms
Well, let tomorrow be another day
My utter foolishness has made me squirm
The time for preparation is a need
Not much good has come from haste or speed.
