We call it anguish

It’s Saturday again.
Wonder if  it’s real.
Waking up with no-one here.
Confused by ends of dream and memory.
Desires and fears;
Scanning the room for signs.
But of what?
I have no cat.
Put the kettle on.
Make a drink.
It is real
Sharpness bites the heart
We call it anguish
Like tigers fighting in a small space
Make  heart larger
Breathe
Carry on

Please wash beforehand

church-at-night-2

I made this image from a photo using Artweaver

Please wash before  playing cards
I didn’t know playing cards washed but I am happy to  obey

Pleae  be   polite to other customers  whether real or imaginary
I   think only Godel can solve this one and he went mad

Please call a cab  if you are drunk
Even if I am not going anywhere?

Don’t get overexcited about your new husband
I didn’t realise he was new.

To avoid being put in a mental hospital, do manual work every day
and always be polite even to politicians, hallucinations,mathemativians and anyone else hanging around

When you can sit down drinking tea all day and  doing nothing
that is Nirvana

Sewing is good especially mending and replacing buttons
First, take off the buttons from your cardigan
Find a needle and some matching thread
I use easy thread needles as I am limited by visions
Once they go,I thread my needle and sew the button back where I took if from
Don’t do it too tight
But, not too loose either
If unhappy,repeat this  over and over until bedtime

Knitting is good but wool is expensive
Try buying online but make sure which country you are in first
Get a friend to help you
No friends?
Try being polite  and listening to others before you speak to them
Otherwise, go to Church and pray.
But miracles don’t happen every day

Are you too picky?
Are you too excited to realise most people have not heard of quantum cookery

 

 

 

 

 

As kingfishers catch fire by G M Hopkins

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Being ourself

https://www.sparknotes.com/poetry/hopkins/section5/

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.
Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

The only beauty

The shops look all the same to me.
plastic human models with no heads
are placed in the windows
showing us how we might look
if we bought the latest fashions.
People walk, by dropping paper and cans
some look at me,most don’t
I’m invisible now ,I’m a ghost.
I haunt my familiar spaces
the library green and the path by the pond
The phone shops tempt us with larg notices:
Only £39 per month for the best the latest,the new
maps and locations
faster access to email and photos
. Look here I am,another selfie.
The only beauty is a pigeon in the sun
and a black man with gentle,luminous eyes
smiling at me as he sweeps away the paper
tossed down by the blinded people
who jabber beside the coffee shop.

 

Singing in the wind

I have heard grass singing in the wind.
I have walked through poppy fields in sun
I have suffered when dark rain descends

I have watched trees’ shadows in the ponds
I have known the arctic wastes of pain
I have heard grass singing in the wind.

Another soul is writing with my hand
Yet I have wept while loaning him my pen
I have suffered when dark rain descends

I have known the edges of the mind
I ‘ve sensed hollow silence un-contained
. I have heard grass singing in the wind.

I have sorrowed  people wh’re confined
I have watched the antics of bad men
I have suffered when dark rain descends

I have seen the storm by camera lens.
I have felt the solar system bend.
I have heard grass singing in the wind.
I have suffered when dark rain descend