I’d rather swim through it


Scilla-greilhuberi-2020Would you like to  be my friend?
No,I don’t   value him highly

Would you like to fall in love?
I’d rather swim through it

Would you like a new car?
I’ve not got an old one

What is your name?
No, it’s not, it’s Nat

What shall we eat tonight?
I can chew my nails after putting mango chutney on them

I don’t like to eat snails but neccessity is the mother of invention
Will you saute them in olive oil?
No, I’ll stuff them into a tomato
You need a big one
I’ll crush them
How cruel cookery can be
But not as bad as Goering,Stalin,Hitler or Nero.
Snails won’t know that
But we know

Where are the children?
I didn’t know we had any

Why are we in bed?
Because we are married
Since when?
Gosh, you’ve got dementia already
Well, we do live in a Care Home
Wow, only 29 and in a Care Home
We run it

Fragility is measured by the glass

As fragile as the sacred crystal glass
Which  broken was smashed up like any cup
Till its particles invaded us at Mass

Uncontained,  how will this  moment pass?
Suffering  breaks us down, what helps us up?
Hearts as fragile as  a crystal glass

Do not climb the cliff  in love’s mad  rush
Height  endangers, vertigo, a drop
Whose particles invade us at the Mass?

Feeling like the flower tramped underfoot
Never to be raised,  true life has stopped
When fragility is measured by the glass

Did Jesus know that physics  would  forecast
That he could be alive mixed in, not mocked
His particles  shall dance with ours at Mass

When we die, the shop is out of stock
There is no other I in any book
As fragile as the ancient crystal glass
Whose particles  fly solo in the Mass

A cruel hill

We measure walls and windows and the rain
But not the patterns painted on  the  pane
We measure flour and butter and  the tin
But not the love with which we mix them in

There is  no  linear scale in human  minds
Where you are up above and I’m behind
Complexity and wisdom  intertwine
No measure seems quite apt  for those who’re blind

There’s something  Nazi in  the way we rank
The industry of measurement now stinks
Every human  is a  unique  world
Yet into the abyss , they might hurled

We do  not   get perfection as we kill
The Christs who stumble up   their cruel hill

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