The doorbell phoned

Mary was trying to find an online shop where she had once bought a red winrer coat~
Instead. she landed on Amazon
Oh, there’s a nice frying pan,she thought.
She enlarged the screen and saw the words,Amazon Echo
That’s a strange name for a pan, she muttered
Then she realised it was a new fangled device which may be collecting messages& images for MI5
I wonder if my email has anything suspicious in it?
I have written to two people weekly then my sister and my six brothers
Are any of them under suspicion?
Soon,Mary realised that the Echo would not collect anythbg unless you had one installed in your home
I suppose it’s a bit like God.We can read about him,
go to church or pray but meeting him would be totally different
But Jesus hinted that if we fed the hungry or washed the feet of a beggar we were meeting God
In Knittingham all the beggars have shoes, she murmured
Maybe I could wash their hair?
God may be right here,but just as the blind can’t see colours we may lack some sense that would enable us to see God or even angels.
Annie knocked on the window.
Shall we have a cup of tea? Oh.I say, are you getting an Echo?
I don’t think I need one, unlike a shadow.I thought it was a frying pan
I recall you have burned two plus 7 milkpans
Don’t keep going on about it,Mary begged
Annie made some tea and Emile wandered in
Would you like tea,Emile?
Only if it’s green, he mioawed
I thought green was mould on food,Annie said
But tea is not food, is it? Emile cried
Only the milk and sugar,Annie mumbled
I’ve never seen green milk,Mary said nervously
There’s always a first time, the cat uttered in a manner resembling the Oracle
at Delphi.
But can you even buy green milk?
They all sat quietly meditating until the door bell rang
Mary picked up the phone
Hello,I am your door bell
She put the phone down and told the others about this new kind of crime where non-human objects would try to persuade you to wash them or put oil into them.
I can’t believe it ,Annie said as she stared round the room wondering which gadget
might phone Mary next.
Her mobile rang,
Would you like to pay for your Funeral?
I’m not even dead yet, she replied.When I am I’ll call you.Do you do 3 for 2?
Do you think Trump might phone?
Yes, he needs money to pay his lawyers
Well.I am not going to give him any?
Yet Jesus mixed with sinners
They were thieves & whores…. just ordinary people, not like Trump
I wish you were a whore,said Emile
How horrible,said Mary, why did you say that?
Well,I long to see Jesus, Emile smiled to her
He will let you know the time,she informed him.Meanwhile just keep living the best life you can

And so say all of us

Take your love and in your arms enfold


Did anyone believe blind rage expressed
Could benefit the agent without harm?
Did anyone read Freud and then digest?

Feelings need the heat of blacksmith’s fires
Held inside until they find their form
An image worthy of our right desire

As well as rage, we should mistrust love too
Be backward in expression till more’s known
Or risk an avalanche of cruelty.

Take care of others, they are not our fools
From sacred meetings all mankind has grown
We misuse folk to test our worth and tools

Holding in the inner fires our wish
The blackness of the heart can turn to gold
No contradiction hides such sacredness

Take your love and in your arms enfold.
The future of the world is growing cold
We liked to have the choice for rage and death
Until we found the charred remains of bliss

The future is fiction

The future unpredictable as gas
Its fictions must be written by our hands
On tablets with the clarity of glass
Which crack  like bones  dried out  on foreign sands

The prophets’ meanings , unnnamed, cannot pass
The sentences bind stories till they blend
The whispers and the excess of his blasts
Till all are crucified  by  loss of sense

The arches of the heavens will surpass
The  golden eye ,the mind its telescope
Then all  at once humanity is trash
The microcosm, a particle   escaped

Will Evil  change our hearts  till blood is  brass
The valves  are closing,   polished  into death