Cliches for all

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https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-squeaky-wheel/201306/the-seven-hidden-dangers-brooding-and-ruminating

It was the best of times, it was  the  worst of times in a very real sense.
Mary  dreamed Stan was in heaven enjoying the company of Wittgenstein,Jesus and Pascal , not to mention Lady Jane Grey Ann of Cleves,Juliet,Cleopatra and an angel.
At  least  at this point in time he can’t sleep with them  ,she thought as she woke up.Though did that matter? Can men be faithful and monogamous?
Look at Leonard Cohen.Was he better off flitting from flower to flower? Was he so stunning that women threw themselves at him and he could not resist?Sometimes people are actually afraid of intimacy or feel life is short and want some new experiences.Was he a wolf? It t akes one to know one
It was indeed  almost the worst of times when Mary remembered she had no food in the house except cat food for Emile.He was all she had now as  her daughter Lyra lived in Australia and Stan was in heaven, she hoped.
Here I am, she thought, pondering unanswerable questions and not looking after myself .It is probably  best to err on the side of buying food and going out rather than lying in the bed wondering  if life has any inherent  meaning. or  if we must create our own.
Even discussing that with someone else would be better.But men folk don’t want to discuss serious topics with their lovers.
It was an even worse time when she recalled a man who once  loved  her leaving her because she asked him if he knew what post-modernism was one night after going to the cinema to see a comedy.She realised then that she would have to play a part,To act like a woman.So far it was but moderately successful owing to her myopic view of life
If only I had kept quiet, she told herself,I could be  lying beside  him now enjoying a few kisses and hugs and asking him how to light  the electric fire.Still ,there’s many a slip twixt cup and lip
Now then, said a  loud voice.Stop   ruminating and get  up. One stitch in time saves nine.
Who are you to say that to me, she called nervously ?
She wondered of stress  had driven her round the bend.She had begun reading a book which said mental illness in not an illness like flu.
It is a reaction to bad events and  other life strains.
It doesn’t matter who I am,just do as I say, came the answer
Mary recognised the voice.It was her dad who had died when she was 9.
Dad, she called, why are you here now?
Because Jesus told us to  love our family, he revealed pleasantly.
Why now after all these years? she persisted.
I have missed you.
I always did have a bad sense of direction,he told her.But do as I say.You won’t recover easily if you never get up.Stan is here but he is busy cleaning the gold cutlery for an angel.
Alright, but I never knew there was cutlery up there, she murmured as she put on her  new clothes.She had bought some purple trousers and two new jumpers.One was pink and one  was teal.The trousers were exceptionally comfortable  being  in a last years’ sale  by a famous label..She  then found some Weetabix in  the cupboard and some long life milk.As she drank her tea she admired the acer’s brilliant red leaves.
Almost too bright, she thought.It’s  due  to the hot September.Plants are affected by their environment and so are we.Especially by bad or hot tempered men and women
Poor people may have  more than in the  past but they tend to live in the ugliest areas of the town with no gardens nor parks.
And seeing the better off walk by wearing expensive clothes it is surprising there are not even more muggings.
She recalled seeing  a man with a Rolex watch and gold earrings on  talking on his new iPhone as he wandered through the Mall.I suppose we think everybody else is like us; we don’t mix with  very poor or very rich people on the whole.Unless we are one of those two types.
Mary went outside and found a neighbour wheeling in her bins.
Thanks ,Tom, she cried.I wondered who it was.I am very grateful.What is post modernism,by the way?Nobody will tell me.
Emile was watching from the window sill.
I knew it was Tom, he mewed.
But you didn’t tell me,Mary replied.
You didn’t ask.
Tom wandered off ,while Mary admired the autumn trees lining the road.Tom turned  back and looked at her but she didn’t notice.
Time for coffee, she muttered and went inside again.She was embroidering a  table mat which said “Rumination is for the birds”.Where it had come from was a puzzle.But it may be a good thought

And so say all of us

Blythburgh thoughts

Blythburgh, Holy Trinity Church - History, Travel, and accommodation  information

Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
Not much contrast from the soft silk sky
No birds nor any brightness, light won’t play

The ones who act so manic are not gay
If there is no truth, there are no lies
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey

On our backs on Sutton Bank we lay
My acts outcry, my grief I shall defy
No birds nor any life. the light won’t play

Who is born a hunter.who the prey?
The lion has lost the unicorn nearby
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey

I think of brexit, oh the blush,shame
The spirits flatten;rise up,do not die
No birds nor any life, the light won’t play

I wonder what the loss is or the gain
I wish we were in Suffolk by the Bly
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
No birds, no life ,I’m languid, would you stay?

We live because we are breathed by sacredness

Before we go to bed we vegetate
No need for teacher but a compost heap.
And as we vegetate, we drift to sleep
While in our dreams our little mind debates

But mostly we’re unknowing in this dark
Where God himself may manifest at will.
His dazzling darkness makes our souls be still
And wait for strikes by living ,glowing sparks.

But in the morning ,we come back to strife
Take up our work and suffer every stroke.
From sapling to the oldest,strongest oak
Each must choose again its proper life


Every look we cast at others strikes
Reflects and shows us what we have become
And when there is no movement, we are done
Our mind and heart have chosen what they like


. So in our end we vegetate again
And no more rise to labour in the day
We fertilise the fields passed on our way
We show the end of woman and of man.


A daily round becomes our life and death.
We live because we’re breathed by sacredness

Confess again

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May I confess my sins online,Father?
If you must.
Well, I don’t like Boris Johnson
Is that it?
Sorry to be so boring.
Everyone today is confessing the same thing
I just saw him!
Yes, he hates himself too
Is he a Catholic?
Well. Hitler was.
But was Johnson brought up as one?
Well, he knows how to confess sins
That’s no use unless he stops committing them
Right, he has no firm purpose of amendment.
He  compliments Trump for his racist outbursts
He may even complement Trump.
Stitch them together and there is still something missing
What?
Humanity, humaneness,caritas, agape,care,kindness
I  see you went to a good Seminary,Father.I used to like the Latin Mass
But not Latins en masse
I prefer them to the English
That is a sin.We must love equally
Can’t we hate equally instead?
I am  ambivalent about that
You’re a Paradox
Where do they  originate? 
Somewhere Unorthodox.
This is getting rude
No it’s not!
Don’t contradict me
That’s Latin!
It’s an order
Or a disorder?
Stop playing games
Who’re you? Wittgenstein?
He’s dead
What a shame
Actually would he  enjoy living in England now
No, because he was Jewish.
So are lots of people.
Somehow they get hurt  or even killed at times
What times?
Nazi.times
Stalin-times
Tsar-times

GoodFriday-times
Greedy-times
Allthe-time
In the Times
Of the times
Oh, time!
Well it’s about time we stopped it.
About time
On time
In time
After time
Time and Motion
Soon we’ll have the Flood
Why has Boris not built an Ark?
Because he doesn’t Noah how to
Because God didn’t see him
Because there was a  full stop at the end of the sentence.
Is that not normal?
Not on WhatsApp!
What is up?
What is down?
I don’t know, where’s the Eskimos snow


The eyes see what we fear or what we need

He thought I was an enemy , he said
The eyes see what we fear or what we need
I gave him love,but hate grew there instead

If you need to hate, try someone dead
Do not say cruel words that make us bleed
He thought I was an enemy , he said

Do not dwell where people hate the good
If they curse, it’s best to pay no heed
I gave him love,but hate welled up instead

Emotions mingle, wanton like fresh blood
Let them be till form can be perceived
He thought I was his enemy , he said


Do not confront the paranoid nor mad
The agony of their minds has them deceived
We give them love,but hate wells up instead

Never take such people into bed
Let them run away, they’ll be relieved.
He mistook me for an enemy , he said
I gave him love and care now I feel bad

Without a plate

Food is not a meal without a plate
The history of our race is one of rites
The dignity of setting, time and date

Single folk may eat meals from a tray
The gobbling of the burger’s out of sight
Food is not a meal without a plate

A prayer of blessing, heads bowed as we say
Then we eat, converse into the night
With dignity in meeting, time with space

The plates, a simple white, we dedicate
To the love of sharing and of light
Food is a fine meal upon a plate


From the high chair, toddlers aggravate
Let them be themselves, without dislike
Learn their dignity without disgrace


The Sunday roast, the laughter we incite
Forgivenesss and regret for our mistakes
Food is not a meal without a plate
The dignity of setting, time and date

Virtue ethics

Below is an extract

Virtue ethics is a broad term for theories that emphasize the role of character and virtue in moral philosophy rather than either doing one’s duty or acting in order to bring about good consequences. A virtue ethicist is likely to give you this kind of moral advice: “Act as a virtuous person would act in your situation.”

Most virtue ethics theories take their inspiration from Aristotle who declared that a virtuous person is someone who has ideal character traits. These traits derive from natural internal tendencies, but need to be nurtured; however, once established, they will become stable. For example,  a virtuous person is someone who is kind across many situations over a lifetime because that is her character and not because she wants to maximize utility or gain favors or simply do her duty. Unlike deontological and consequentialist theories, theories of virtue ethics do not aim primarily to identify universal principles that can be applied in any moral situation. And virtue ethics theories deal with wider questions—“How should I live?” and “What is the good life?” and “What are proper family and social values?”

Confusion is a pool but not a lake

With words. he pulled some in and pushed some out
He wanted love but still encountered doubts
Should he make commitments then feel trapped?
Should he disappear from lovers’ maps?


He joined an online dating site and smiled
His profile photo strong and slightly wild
He got ten ladies asking for a date
Did they want a lover or a mate?


He gazed upon their photos,felt confused
Did he want a wife or perhaps a muse?
He could not bring himself to use the phone
Spent the evening time at home alone

He fell into obsessive thought and dreams
A new friend may be party to a scheme
Could he trust his judgement or their truth
Soon he lost his temper, gnashed his teeth


Should he seek a therapist for aid?
Was his mind withdrawn or in decay?
Should he join a gym or grow a beard?
Was he what they wanted, what they feared?


In the end he thought his life away
He died in bed alone one autumn day
It does not matter deeply what we choose
But life is more important than these clues

What control

Photo by moein moradi on Pexels.com

Seems the seven plagues are coming back
Now we are in Lockdown for control
Of care for others, seems there was a lack
Oh, the seven plagues are riding back
We never saw the swift and silent rat
Where are those lost entities called “souls”?
I say, the deadly plagues are fast and wreck
The total Lockdown. who then will console?
Noone will admit they knew the facts
Killing any virus is a knack
Both high intelligence and smooth sweet tact
Suddenly I hear the thunder roll
What’s the good of weeping by a crack
Noone worships tears in sugar bowls

Is evil de rigeur?

Why should we do evil if we care
Care about the world and humankind?
What is evil, what is good, what’s fair?

To feel we’re God, implacable our stare
Igniting terror in a human mind
Why should we do that if we do care?

Some do evil deeds to show they dare,
Making their own heart a place malign
What is evil, what is good, what’s fair?

The truly strong are anxious and aware
Letting their love flow in reason’s time
Why should we do that if we don’t care?

The good are like the tortoise not the hare
Slowly with perception ,impulse reined,
Acquainted with the evil ,good prefer

The true mind is the one refined by pain
Seeking no revenge,but to so learn
Why should we do evil if we care?
There is evil, is it de rigeur?

Try better

Would you like a waiter?
No, thanks .I am a vegetarian

I’d like water
Mine or from the river?

Would you like your tea in a pot?
i’d prefer it sitting on my chair

Can tea sit?
No, but it can lie
Lie!
On your food



Do you want milk in your tea?
Who is this Milk?


Did you learn Greek at school?
I just picked it up.Is there a vaccine?


Was it ancient ?
It seemed fresh to me.But the ancient is safer


Why did you give up history?
It seemed like nonsense
Now everything seems like that
Well,I can’t give up Everything.


Can I hold your hand?
Act like a man.On second thoughts, No.
Why not, since I adore you
You don’t even know me
Make the most of that
I do try.
Try better

Why do women have their toes sucked?
They like a man at their feet
I think it’s very common
Indeed, vulgar.
Do you like it?
I can’t lift my foot to my mout
h
Can I help?
No, my joints won’t bend
The only answer is to cut yout feet off.
I’d rather bite my nails
Very wise.
Be off or I’ll bite your
s.

Are you British?
I sadly admit I am
It’s not your fault Boris’s great grandfather was Turkish
Did they come in a dinghy?
No, on an inflatable mattress
It’s still illegal
Was it illegal then?
A magic carpet is better
For what?



It kept the rain from Emile’s eyes

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When the weather turns out wet
Emile has to wear a hat
Mary bought it in a Sale
Making sure it was for males.

Yellow with two cotton ties
It keeps the rain from Emile’s eyes
Mary has her own hat too
Bought in Orford, it is blue

Emile as he is a cat
Up a tree does love to sit
But when he’s leaping tree to tree
With his rain hat , he can’t see.

Mary said, “well stay indoors
You can help me with the chores
I’ll make a harness with a cart
You can carry soap.dear heart.”

“Otherwise go visit Anne
Eat the curry in her pan
Scratch her doormat,sniff for mice
Eat her cake and churn her rice”

I think I saw Stan on the stairs
It’s that velvet coat he wears
I may go and have a rest
I can lean upon his chest

Shall we visit him tonight?
Emile,dear, you must not bite
If he is a spirit now
You may only give a bow

Annie came in looking flushed
By the milkman she was kissed
One more man and she will die
Mary says she needs meat pie

Then the ladies make some tea
Gossip till their minds are free
Mary wants to write a book
If dear Anne will learn to cook

Stan is hiding in the coats
He is checking what they write
Then an angel flies to him
God wants enemies within

So practise love and hope and faith
Even though you have no grace
Say God is dead but do not taunt
Jesus preaching on the Mount

Be you friend or be you foe
Through a needle’s eye we go
See, you’re full of love and grace
Now go home and wash your face

Going to church

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Daddy went to Mass at 12 oclock
I followed him and crossed the busy road
I was wearing my best Sunday frock
I was only three,I knew no code.

I went down Melbourne Road and saw the church
I saw the trees. a robin and a wren
Mothers went to early Mass in thirst

Taking holy wafers now and then

Daddy disappeared and so I cried
The verger knew my family by sight
He lifted me above the gentlemen
I saw Daddy smile at me again

He carried me on his own shoulders home
Mammy said,I wondered where you’d gone

My grate art

drawing genrleman.jpgHow much does it cost to get a hair cut?
Sorry, we don’t do  just  one hair.

How much is a shampoo and set?
Ten pounds more than you expect.

How much is a blow dry?
Sorry, I am out of breath.

Can you dye my hair?
I can dye it but I shan’t

Would red hair suit me?
For what?

Will a perm attract men?
No,  they are too impatient.

How shall I look when I’m dressed up?
The same.

Am I overweight?
No, under-height.

Do you like my new coat?
Stop phishing for compliments.

Shall I have a full body massage?
No, get married again

I can’t get married again
Why not?
I have never been married

Can I date on the Internet?
In theory.

Do you have to pay for joining Soul Mates
You’ll pay with your heart

Why are pronouns important?
To or for whom?
I see

Never store your water in a shoe

Can we change our point of view alone?
What can give perspective to a poem?
Shall I outline what we ought to do?
Shall I sketch the patterns,are you blue?
Move your eyes and you will move your soul
Looking at the men queue for the dole
Do you want to mix the c
olours first
Oh,I drank the water, what a thirst
I shall use my tea and this gouache
Let the colours wander as they splash
Women nursing babies need good food
If you have no children, do not brood
When Hitler went to Munich in a r
age
We got a new perspective of the age
I didn’t go myself for I was framed
I was just encrypted ,it’s no shame
Never use a rubber when you’re wrong
Never kill a blackbird while it sings
Never go to bed with any one
Make it two or three, we need some fun
Never use art pastels on your cheeks

Never use a water jar that leaks
You must be spontaneous as a rule
To produce cartoons, you must be cruel
You must learn techniques and then forget
Never tell the Universe we met.
Remember every line I draw for you
Never store your water in a shoe



The last card

Self improvement ends when we depart
On the final train ride of our life
Silent is that little clock, our heart

When we lose our teeth that is the start
When we have no man to make us wife
Self improvement ends when we depart

When we reach the edges of all charts
Unknown oceans, crossed by unknown lines
Silenced is that little clock, our heart

Can we be improved by self regard?
Can self help kick us up till we’re divine?
Either way it ends when we depart

No more tricks as we play our last card
All that I possessed, no longer mine

Silenced is that little clock, our heart

How peaceful is the dust, it does not strive
Nor agitate itself about soul stained
Self improvement ends, we die, depart
Silent are the speeches of our heart
s

Do not ask



Astounded by love’s impact, my tears fell
As if a door was opened up by you
The reservoir of grief, the flooded bell,
The marble on the shore, the hidden view.


I stayed still and by you I was held
In your golden cloud, I felt embraced
You covered me with warmth,I was your child
A candle in the gale,a shining face

I was silent,I was even dumb
They who see a face can not unknow
Love is not a method nor a sum
Nor can logic point the way to go


Do not ask for knowledge or belief
Do not ask reprieve from human grief


A metaphor

There is a green hill far away
There are hundreds, let’s make hay
We don’t mow our hills for grass
They have heather tops alas
No local birds do a fly pas
t
As the Pennines are so vast
I took a test I never passed
in the Lord I put my trust

If the lower fields are green
There are worms at work unseen
From Winter Hill we saw North Wales
The hills aren’t green, they’re hit by hail
They have snow and they have rain
The Irish Sea must take the blame
The Atlantic is so strong
Never admit that you are wrong



The green hill is a metaphor
Blessed is the God who saw

Oh,mother

Oh,mother dear wherever have you been
To leave a cat all day is very mean
Emile,I need my freedom now and then
I can’t love Dave but I would like a man
I must go out to buy a handsome coat
Cognac is the colour I love most

Emile cried, whatever do you think
I saw some frogs a-courting in the sink
I was on the draining rack up there
They asked me to avert my amber stare


Are frogs faithful, don’t they just leave spawn?
They are cold towards tadpoles unborn
We saw them by Moss Bank in shallow pools
Mary wonders if all frogs are cruel


Stan came in with his angels right behind
They are tired of heaven, they’ve resigned
Here’s a pin upon which they can dance
Mary was delighted and entranced


Do you need a dinner now you’ve died?
I wouldn’t mind a steak, the old man sighed
Some buttered new potatoes and a fool
Rhubarb or vanilla would be cool


I have done no shopping, Mary cried
I have no money for the food you like
Shall I get a pizza, fish and chips
That will put some colour in your lips


I am only joking, Stanley said
I shall merely visit you in bed
Emile wept with joy to see his Dad
What a spirit, is he going mad?


In came Annie in her long green coat
Her eyes were black and scratched was her throat
I fell into the Croal when eating chips
See the bruises on my purple lips


Never walk on water,Mary screeched
Even when you cross all Southport Beach
Stay away from danger,I’ll ring Dave
He will dress your bruises with his gauze

Annie did not tell them all the truth
She had fallen off the sloping roof


With good will

At last my one ambition is fulfilled
I have a desk where I may write at will
No more the dining table or a board
A two desk family is safely moored
Men must have their study if they write
Though grandad was a coalminer at night
And Father was a writer in gold paint
Embellishing the Churches with quotes quaint
He also did The Stations of the Cross
Then he died, what torment ,oh what loss.
We went to see his grave and said a prayer
Jesus was so quiet, hardly there.
But I believe in love and always will
Now I’ll write my poems with a quill

The valued sin

If you need to find the perfect man
Find one who’s a good companion
For as we age we are not acrobats
Preferring to dance slowly as we chat
If you can go further, keep it quiet
Or all your lonely neighbours may cause riots
Very few lack a last faint desire
Eying others in the Oldies’ Choir
But when at home we like to read and talk
Take the cat out for his daily walk
Only jealousy revives the beast
So with a married women flirt at least
There is value in all kinds of sin
Whatever life you choose, you’ll always win

Keep a cat

The writer told me psychopaths love dogs
Those who murder rarely keep a cat
I wonder if a thief might love a frog!
The author told me psychopaths love dogs
Cookbook writers might go the whole hog;
Sad ghouls enjoy the company of bats
The writer told me psychopaths keep dogs
Those who murder never love a cat

Thieves

The thieves took only one of my blue mugs
Spode, I think,from Holt where cars break down
I still keep my wildflowers in the jug
The thieves took only one thing, sweet blue mug
My husband gave me China.so he browsed
All Spode, I think,in Holt where we broke down
The car was large but caused frustrated howls
The thieves took only one thing, a blue mug
My gifts from Holt, the bed ,the wedding gown

The Sun Sinks

The sun sinks but it burns like a  great fire;
All the sky’s aflame with  fierce intent;
Who thinks of death as weakness, is a liar
Before the end  our glory must be spent.

The  graphics of the branches look Chinese
As  blackened brush is drawn across red silk
Infinite yet countable  my days
Running like a river without silt

Thus I am not transcendent in myself
But joined to all that lives I feel I am.
So in conjunction we will find our health
Ambivalence contains both lion and lamb.

The fire of  orange leaves me with a glow
As into night I with all creatures go

Amber eyed

Amber eyed, the cats hunt in the night
The smallest creatures shiver, try to hide
Eyes like ours can’t see the quivering grass
Set to music by the mouse that passed

In the day time,slumped on cushioned chair,
Jeremiah breathed the heated air
Slept all day while we worked for the cash
To feed this cat with more than mere green grass


I went to post a card, the winter dark
Miah followed me, oh, cruel car
That struck the headlong beast, without a pat
Gone the much loved animal, my cat


Remember cats will follow where you walk
The cars kill more than hunters from the Ark

She tried to smother me


I dreamed she tried to smother me one night
I had had suspicions with deep roots
I screamed ad yelled and kicked her, as one might


Then she tortured me with brilliant light
As her minions climbed down from the roof
I dreamed she tried to smother me
, alive

She looked so ugly, she gave demons fright
I wished I were a donkey kicking hoof
I screamed and yelled,confused
ten megabytes

Her muscles strong, her grip was over tight
I tried to crash her laptop, no re- boot
I dreamed she tried to smother me last night

I wished I were a tiger with cruel bite
Or God whose name to angels was a proof
I screamed and
shouted 999, please write

She was more sadistic than astute
She gave me pain, this action her debut
I dreamed she tried to cut me off last night
The two pint flask
saved tea, my perfect right

The warp and the weft

I used to teach maths to those willing
They already knew weights and billing
I liked them to solve all my problems
Without making use of odd goblins


My problems were many and varied
By men I was too often harried
I tried to look plain and demented
And rarely was I ever scented


I feared I would bore myself speaking
The same age old problems repeating
So I never prepared for my classes
I made errors, correct, for the masses


I don’t know why we did complex numbers
More severe than the Ferry cross the Humber
We also did groups,rings and fields
Gambled and stuffed jellied eels


So why am I here writing poems
Or collecting gold one pound coins?
I have no idea, my reader
But I have got no faith in our leader

Be wary of viruses merry
Eat raw tomatoes and cherries
Spend all the time you have left
Discerning the warp and the weft