The way adults play

After my caring duties were finished,I realised on reflection that I had begun
to behave like my husband did
He was very crticical of radios and several times replaced them seeking the
perfect sound.I spent some months doing the same thing and as I can listen via the TV
I did not need to do it.But now I have readmany books about bereavement I’ve discovered it is common.It’s as if you take the loved person into yourself
I can’t start drinking gin because of medication
Nor can I drive.
Maybe, it’s ironical,I was silently critical of his radio needs and so that is the one I have taken into myself
I had already got 2 cheap mobile phones so that in A & E one would always be working
I then became obsessed with phones however so far I have limited myself
to Motorola [ a budget phone!) I feel quite contented as I use it mainly for reading
e- books and looking up weird information when I lie down feeling ill
Like, what does Lacan’s writing mean ? I don’t know why they use such abstruse
language
I look up recipes for exotic dishes which I do not make
Better than looking at railway timetables, perhaps?
I call my best friend on it & my family.
My vaccination appt came on it
Why should I get an expensive phone?
I don’t want to worry about dropping down the toilet or losing it and like most of my stuff nobody will steal it.Those criminals who got in realised when they saw my old TV that they had made a mistake.
Now I’d like to know how many different phones canI have on one landline?
Purely for scientific reasons of course.

Well, children play!

We feel better playing because it has no purpose,we are doing it for enjoyment

The silence glows

Aldeburgh,Sizewell,Dunwich Heath
The nuclear bomb shall bring eternal peace
Housed between the town and the Reserve
Its blackness is ignored by little birds


If force deters, then we shall all be saved
Or this our world will vanish without trace
Innocently playing on the shore
Children find old marble unrestored

Birds may sense the blackness of our hearts
For, even though unused, the bombs take part
They are here where Britten once composed
And so the sanctuary ends unsaved,destroy
ed

In between the lover and his rose
A screen electric in the silence glo
ws

A seed may grow

When you are far,so far away
The longest night,
The shortest winter day,
will be places where
I might die.
The heart's interior
no-one else
Can view.
When you are lost,
I cannot find
your face...
Its outline on the pillows,
My fingers shaped to trace...
The new design,
the stellar rhyme,
Where have you gone?
You slipped from out my arms.
You slipped away.
Was night or day
Ever cut by such a narrow line?
In your embrace I lay.
You seemed so strong.
Yet,sighing, took the path away.
I can't see where
Is
it
night?
Or is it
day..?
I tried to write
to bring white light,
It's dark, and still.
I long for you to come.
Oh,will we ever quite
Find out our way?
Or is that pure illusion?
As we stagger through
the wandering furrows
in the fields
They shoot us down.
What is this confusion?
The war goes on
The world goes round
The mirror gapes at each new clown.
But in a crack, a seed may grow..
I can't see you,
But yet,it's so.

Mary on the bus

Mary stood at the bus stop in her chocolate wool winter coat which Stan had always loved.
It hangs so well,he had told her.
The optional imitation fur collar had been removed as she preferred natural garment  made from wool with no ostentation.As a matter of fact she has one of Stan’s woollen vests on under her gold silk top.Her hair fell in light blonde curls around her pensive face and her eyes looked as if she were seeing a dim vision of the Matterhorn in midwinter after drinking a double brandy

Suddenly she realised the bus was there ;she put her card up to the machine before looking for a seat.The bus was rather full so she sat down next to a youth with an i phone hanging from his hand.
Suddenly it rang.His chosen theme was, Please release me, sung by Tom Jones.
Mary smiled as, if she were near Tom Jones she would need no invitation to free him.
The youth began to speak rather louder than normal.

Mary tried not listen but it was impossible.She was too hot as well..Wearing Stan’s vest was a mistake as the bus was overheated.She turned pink like sunrise over ICI in Billingham as the pollution had a beautifying effect.

I’m sorry I wore your vest,she told Stan.
I should have given them away but I was trying to save money on heating.Still I will be home soon.

Where is your microphone, the youth demanded.It must be one of those new tiny ones.
A microphone? Mary said curiously.
Yeah, he cried.I assume your phone is in your pocket.

Actually it’s in a pocket in my knickers,she informed h m in a manner resembling that of a mildly dotty scientist.We used to wear these knickers in the gym at school.

Did you not wear a top? he enquired,his eyes running over her hourglass figure like water falling off High Force in Teesdale in summer storms.

Well.I didn’t have a bra until I got my grant to attend university,she told him sensitively.

Well,that’s news to me,he said.So you had to wear a bra at University? That was before feminism,of course.Did you burn it later?

Certainly not,said Mary.I’d been longing for one but my mother didn’t seem to notice my development which was her way of coping with adolescent girls.
Of course my brothers may have noticed but they were too nervous to tell Mother I needed any support.We were all so shy and afraid.Anyway be quiet now,I want to speak to my husband.
Have you had your phone on all this time? he asked anxiously.
No,I don’t need it to talk to him,she responded
Why,where is he? the youth enquired sardonically.
He’s on my knee,Mary informed him.In this bag.She pointed to her hessian shopping bag.
I have just been to the Coop for him.I ought to have got a cab as he is quite heavy.

Jesus Christ,cried the youth,hastily pressing the bell before leaping off the bus into a small pond that had been created b Hurricane Desmond.He swam away into the cold night.
Well. that shut him up,Mary said to Stan.
Mary,don’t become less gentle and kind,Stan said in her ear.
I can’t be gentle now,she said.It’s a nasty tough world without you to help me and tell me what you think of Jeremy Corbyn.And do I need to have a roast dinner at Xmas or just some toad in the hole?
I am sorry,sweetheart he murmured.Maybe you need assertiveness training.
I’ll just get more aggressive,she replied.Micro-aggressive perhaps
.You’ll need more than micro in this era,he continued.Mary forgot to get off the bus and found herself in the Leisure Centre by the River Lee
What about the river,Stan, she asked?
Would you like me to throw you in?
A policeman standing near by ran over.
Madam, is it suicide or murder, he asked her.
No,it’s a life sentence,she said humorously as she put her hand up her skirt to get her phone.
That’s a silly place to keep your phone he said.Anyway don’t call a cab,I can run you home in my car.Have you got any China tea?I could kill for a hot drink.
I have some lapsang souchong,she told him.Do you fancy that?
I do, called Stan from the bag.
The policeman passed out.
I told you not to get a boyfriend yet,he continued to Mary.
I’ll do whatever I feel like,she said rudely.I could use a comforting arm around me.Stan sobbed quietly
.She said,quickly
Don’t worry.I’ll get Emile to sit on my knee.Goodbye for now.
Goodbye whispered Stan faintly.
Good bye…. goodbye
Goodbye