The hope remains


1

Friends

Alone I slept in the centre of our bed
Instead of in that mouldy sleeping bag
I slept so near the edge it wore away
And I slid to the floor one night last May

In the middle the wide space seemed too large
No-one there to hold me in their arms
I did not read a book,I was worn out
Pondering on the means and on the doubts

I’ve been lonely like a little child
That mother sent to Office in a file
Waiting for the “open now” command
Will I get to heaven or be condemned?


The file is cold,the Word has little shame
Not guilty of my lack of love and name
I got Office 35678
I can ‘t make attachments , it’s too late

The world collapsed upon me like a cliff
I fell down this dirty yellow rift
Nobody could hear my screams and yells
Perhaps being truly dead may be less hell.


I crawled into my bed as into arms
Solid reassuring, warm and calmI
I lay there in the middle , tried to pray
I can’t believe you’ve really gone away


I pray for all my family by name
My sister, brothers,cousins and the lame
I pray for readers who send notes to me
And for that random apple on the tree


I pray for friends who don’t believe in God
And pray for others ,mentally down-trod
Then I feel at loss and dream of you
Polishing my old black boots anew


Still I feel the emptiness inside
When I wake I think I feel your smile
Yet it’s not the same as being enrobed
In the arms of one who has great love



I guess we change but slowly and with pain
Like the folk who marched, their hope RemaiN

Mary talks to herself

Art by author

Mary put on her purple unlined wool coat
This coat seems too large, she told Emile. her smiley, little cat
Well, yes, it does seem to drape loosely over your massive bosom,Emile answered
That’s better than it clinging to my mature body, she remarked sarcastically yet sadly
Oh,no, said Emile, males love to see women’s figures
Well, they will not see mine. unless I do arithmetic on the blackboard;I must be losing weight
Is it dementia, the naughty cat enquired woundngly
Don’t be ridiculous.I have not forgotten who I am not gone out to Waitrose to buy the Oxford
Dictionary of Humming and Frightening Neighbours
True, he replied.Why not put another jumper on.It would look nice left open over a teal
merino wool rollneck
But I only have pale iris, she complained poisonously
Never mind,I don’t expect the police will arrest you for that.
Mary walked towards the bus stop, humming “The future” by Leonard Cohen
She said to herself, can’t you sing something more positive
Joan of Arc , her self replied
OK,I prefer Dance me to the End of Love
But that is about the Orchestra at Auschwitz
Well why does is it not called,Torture me and Kill Me as I sing
I don’t think anyone would buy that.And as Cohen said himself, poetry takes us to places different from what we expect
So even the composer is not the total Authority?
No,we are merely channels for the Other World
Mother,Emile miaowed, are you ok?
Just a touch of schizophrenia, Emile.Ignore me.I forgot you were with me
I didn’t know women liked to be ignored.Cats don’t
Well, you do now
And so mew all of us

On falling down the black dot at the end of a sentence

January 31, 2012

kathryn1000 profile image

If you can’t acknowledge your hatred if you deny it exists, even to yourself then it may cause havoc in your life.This does not mean letting it rip either.
It is very painful to hate someone you love.This is the dilemma of the infant and of all of us in life.
Perception and its possibilities and flaws are of the utmost importance ; ideas, wide and narrow focus in seeing .They came to my notice in the books
 “A Life of One’s Own”
 “On not being able to PaintMarion Blackett-Milner]

Wonderful books, still available.

Narrow Focus kills

Blind sight scattered my wits

Like whitened bones

Across the deserts of my mind.

I descended into blackness.

Love shrank into the tame cat

By the fire,unacknowledged hate

Grew to fill the room.

I stared too much,

A full stop grew gigantic

Crowded out

All the words in the sentence

I saw nothing but this dot

Now a gigantic black hole

Into which I was dragged.

An energy coming from within my own head

Sucked me into the black hole.

That place was the wrong sort of dearkness.

Within that full stop,

Love Fundamental became invisible.

Disappered into the dark.

I dragged my eyes away

And saw the moon appear , so eerie,

It shone,grey silver.

If I had opened my eyees wider

I would not now lament

What I destroyed in the deep hole

Of the black dot that drew my eye

Into a tunnel of darkness

It blinded me to the light

Did not let me read the sentences

Beside the full stop.

An error of focus left hate

Unacknowledged,unmitigated unredeemed,

Kept from love or goodness

Afraid to spoil my love with hate,

The fear of hate became

That which spoiled all else else,

By freezing Love itself.

The heather is divine

← 

.

I’ll draw a graph of Mother Earth
I’ll need a lot of paper.
It won’t be easy,I know that,
But Geo’s my alma mater.

Geo came into our maths class.
We had to find her metre.
If we did then we could write
poem with which to greet her.

With ologies and eulogies,
The earth is deep in waste.
Give me some green graph charts
I’ll do some cut and paste.

I’ll rearrange the entire globe,
Without a deal of fuss.
If anybody notices
They won’t know it was us!

I’ll put all the mountains in the world
Inside one continent.
And if I am that way inclined
The globe will look quite bent.

I’ll put the lions and tigers too
Into Parliament.
Let them eat, not cake, but men
And don’t charge them a rent.

I’ll paste  the seas that I shall find
Onto my washing line.
With less water round the world
The weather should be fine.

Oh Geo was a darling child,
So promising and bright.
Mixed up by the graphs and charts
I hope she’ll see the light.

I’ll put the stars into a box
We have far too many.
Yet only one sun and one moon,
Would you  be my granny?

Geo return,I love you so.
I’ll give up cut and paste to show.
That you are all I ‘ll ever know,
I don’t want no more

Sin keeps me alive

Are you truly penitent?
Well my first name is Penny.
I mean,are you sorry?
I don’t mind
It’s your sins.
Being called Penny is not a sin
Why did you come to Confession?
I was bored.
That is a bad motive
You seem very critical
I am a priest
So was Aaron
Who  was Aaron?
Moses’s brother.
I thought you meant someone  Catholic
Well,my first sin is I am mortal
Do you repent?
Is it my fault?
Well, assume it is and I can absolve you
This is meaningless.
Well, it’s a sort of game as Wittgenstein  might have said
Don’t bring him into it!
Why not?
He said, whereof we cannot speak, we must remain silent.
That is not  quite right
Well,/i shall remain silent
I absolve you from your sins
Leave them alone!
Don’t you want to get rid of them?
Sin is all that keeps me alive!
Well, that  is a new perspective
And so say all of us