I scratched my thigh mosquitos lately stang My blood ran down like streams by aspirin thinned I suffer scruples if I think I’ve sinned In this case I have done nothing right or wrong
Except that scratching makes the wound look worse I should wash it, let it heal allby itself My hand goes down and scratches it in stealth We think we’re in control, so then we curse
I took a photo while the red blood flowed It got onto my sheet, I’ll leave it there As if to say I’m bleeding so still here I miss the love I had,I know you know
What is life when we do not share words? The single suffer loneliness absurd
Noone locked their door in Flamborough town Too hot in trainers, my feet swelled with pain We shall never see those cliffs again Now you lie in earth, all muddy brown
My metatarsal arch collapsed, like Dunwich drowned Wandering on a cliff path in light rain Noone locked their door in Flamborough town Too hot in trainers, my feet swelled with pain
In Bridlington the cashpoint let us down The town was dirty,unkempt,in the main Where was Hockney, will he come by train? Bempton Cliffs astonished,sea renowned Noone locked their door in Flamborough town
Scotland’s first official Makar in modern times, Edwin Morgan was endlessly inventive, inquiring, energetic, internationalist, and deeply committed to his home city of Glasgow.
A book of poems in his honour, Unknown Is Best, was produced to celebrate Morgan’s eightieth birthday in 2000. His own poem, ‘At Eighty’, was characteristic of the poet’s work, faring forward into the future, embracing change: ‘Push the boat out, compañeros / Push the boat out, whatever the seas…. push it all out into the unknown! / Unknown is best, it beckons best…’.
This seems an unlikely sentiment from a man of Morgan’s background. He was the only child of loving, anxious and undemonstrative parents, Stanley and Margaret (née Arnott) Morgan, politically conservative and Presbyterian. His father was a director of a small firm of iron and steel merchants. Edwin George Morgan was born on 27 April 1920 in Glasgow’s West End, and brought up in Pollokshields and Rutherglen. He attended – unhappily – Rutherglen Academy, moving on to complete his schooling at Glasgow High and entering Glasgow University in 1937. When he was called up in 1940, he horrified his family by registering as a conscientious objector. He reached a compromise position while waiting for his case to be called, and asked to serve in the RAMC, with which he spent the war in Egypt, the Lebanon and Palestine.
He was demobbed in 1946, returned to Glasgow and took a first class Honours degree in English Language and Literature. There was a chance of studying at Oxford, but Morgan preferred to take up the offer of a Lectureship in the Department of English at Glasgow University, where he remained. Having become Titular Professor in 1975, he retired from the University in 1980. He was a much-valued colleague and himself appreciated the structure and salary that academic life gave him.
Morgan first published under the name ‘Kaa’ in the High School of Glasgow Magazine, in 1936, and went on using that nom de plume in the Glasgow University Magazine, emerging as reviewer and translator under his own name in a variety of periodicals after the war. His first collection, The Vision of Cathkin Braes, was published by William MacLellan of Glasgow in 1952, and in the same year the Hand and Flower Press issued his translation of Beowulf (reissued by Carcanet Press in 2002). For fifty years Morgan maintained this double output, translations from Russian and Hungarian, Latin and French, Italian and Old English keeping pace with his own work, showing astonishing variety and technical skills in both. He won the Soros Translation Award in 1985, and spent the prize money on a day trip to Lapland on Corcorde.
The oven is an halogen,it’s so good It has a golden light which aids my mind It grills my steak till it goes brown like wood
I don’t like meat that oozes with red blood I’m guilty.I have sinned and been unkind The oven is an halogen,it’s good
No oven is of use during the flood Do you like to eat the bacon rind? I grill my bacon till it’s brown like wood
I cannot eat a trout which has a head I scream into its eye both dead and blind The oven is an halogen,bright, good
Since we killed the Jews and others sad God wrote yet his words escaped our minds Jesus, Joan of Arc, the cross, the wood
The genocides utopian were thought good One person or ten trillion, guilt denied It fries the soul, and dries up all the blood
Was it the philosophers that lied No dignity and yet excessive pride The sun is fierce, it’s blinding us to good The darkeness, the Inferno in the Wood
Stan was teaching social statistics to a group of elderly neighbors.Since he was 109 it gave them all hope to see him demonstrating his prowess with various techniques.He was planning to do some logic and philosophy too. Annie his mistress was sitting by the door so she could answer the bell if any paramedics turned up for tea. “I’m not going to calculate the standard deviations” he murmured.”I just want you to grasp the general purpose.” “Deviations,they’re not normal are they?” enquired his neighbor “Henry,an ex-English teacher.”So how can they be standard? It’s confusing..” “Are you thinking of deviants?” Stan enquired calmly yet firmly ”Certainly not,at my age .I’m a bit past that!””Still , it adds a bit of excitement to the class.” he thought. How do words in ordinary language relate to those in Statistics?”asked Henry kindly “They are just more precisely defined in statistics.To say someone is a deviant is a rather vague term.” “No,it’s not!My neighbor is a deviant.He dresses entirely in yellow.” “Well,that must be hard to do.Certainly unusual.” Stan agreed boldly. “But in another country that might be the norm.So it’s a matter of context. In statistics, it’s more boring.There’s a formula.It’s totally independent of context.Have you ever wondered why so many mathematicians have more than a touch of Asperger’s syndrome?”
“No,it’s not something that wanders through my mind much”replied Henry A shudder passed through the room at hearing the word “formula“, which perhaps they considered something of a deviant!Anything with letters and numbers mixed together is certainly not welcome in many people’s minds, along with their more unusual sexual tastes, desires ,and inclinations which were kept secret even from themselves in many cases.
“Time for tea.” called Annie,hoping to divert their attention.She carried in a platter of mouse sandwiches kindly donated by the local ambulance service and some iced Victoria sponge she and Stan had made the day before while Mary was giving a lecture on doughnuts and algebraic topology. “Just a quick word about next week.We’ll take a look at ratios and proportions and maybe see how that relates to the concept of rationality.” “That sounds fun!” Annie called encouragingly.Henry decided to act on a deviant desire and fell onto her lap. ”Oh,dear!” she gasped loudly as the chair collapsed under her. ”Why can’t you be deviant at home?” “My wife won’t let me!” He kindlily answered. “And look,” Stan continued,”we’ll have to ring 999.This chair is in fragments.I thought for one day we’d be able to avoid calling them out!” “Well,life is not controllable.” said a quiet but fierce looking lady with sharp green eyes. ”That’s what makes it tolerable“ She then greedily consumed a large piece of iced cake . “I can stand the thinking if the cake is good” she whispered to her shy friend Amy. ”That’s rather a feeble argument,”Amy retorted.”You can’t really compare cake and statistics.” “I’ll compare anything I like!” the green-eyed woman snarled loudly. “You do what you like but you must keep a sense of proportion!” “Now then,have you rung 999?” Stan queried of Annie.”Yes,here they are,and they’ve got a stretcher for the chair!” “Well,that’s certainly unusual,even deviant“,Stan thought anxiously to himself. ”Where do they get their funding? Is there a fund for distributing money to help chairs which are not fit for purpose?
1.Avocado pears have protein in them.Eat alone or make a melon,avacado and grape salad Have some bread & butter 2 Mix chopped apple,carrot,celery with cubes of cheese.Eat with French dressing 3.As 2, add nuts or raisins or mushrooms sliced 4 .Cold meat plus any salad especially potato and nasturtium leaves 6 Cheese sandwich [ iron it!] 7 Cooked pasta shells with any vegetables chopped plus a Lemon and Oil dressing 8 Make toasted sandwiches in the toaster in a special toastie bag 9 Cooked rice with chopped peppers, chopped cooked beef, spring onions And slices of orange [ thin] plus olive oil and ginger 10. Weetabix with milk, raisins and walnuts
Sitting on the high backed,v Ercol sofa in the large sitting room of her new neighbours Tom and Edina, Mary sipped at the PG Tips tea she had been given in a pseudo-art deco mug.The tea tasted pseudo as well! Would you like some delicious cake,Mary? Edina asked her rather loudly Mary jumped. Oh excuse me, my nerves are all on edge, she cried.I’d love some home made cake Edina took out a penknife and cut a slice of the large cake.Alas it was coffee flavoured and Mary was not fond of that.This was agony to her especially coffee flavoured butter cream filling as she liked all the other flavours..Suffering from this is a new psychiatric disorder called uncakeophilia disorder Why are you using a penknife in here a,Tom asked his wife angrily.We have lots of kitchen knives and other silver ones I found it on the floor,Edina said pensively I don’t suppose you washed it, Tom answered furiously Mary leaned back and shut her eyes for a moment.I hate noise, she thought. No, dirt is good for the immune system, Edina murmured What rubbish, you are so lazy I can’t believe it! her husband told her. After 39 years you should be used to it,Edina told him sensibly.Who made all these new curtains and vacuumed the roof? she went on languidly Did you vacuum the roof in your last house,Mary asked her? We lived in a flat before so I never had to do it. Well, it’s unneccessary,Mary said , why not learn Esperanto? Where do people speak that? I have no idea but it’s a language,Mary cried decisively But can it really be a language if it’s not the native tongue of any country?, Well Yiddish is a language yet few people speak it,Tom told them It would be difficult for the dead to speak,Mary said in a sad voice It used to be spoken by millions of people in Central and Eastern Europe. Why didn’t Hitler teach them English,asked Edina? You think he only hated their language,said Tom in surprise.I’ve never heard that before. It is bloody ridulous,Mary said in her soft yet vibrant voice…he didn’t kill them because of their language and they spoke German as well,Maybe even French,Polish and other tongues Just then they heard a strange choking sound .It was Emile the talking tomcat trying to get out of Mary’s large plastic handbag Good grief ,Tom shouted.Did we invite this cat? Does he drink tea from cups? Is he real? Well, yes , I love tea, Emile mewed.And don’t shout at Mary like that! I am not letting a cat order me about,Tom screamed like a lunatic But it’s not nice for Mary.She is a highly sensitive person and I love her Now, they tell us,Edina whispered.She is married to her cat I didn’t hear you,Tom said,Is she harried ,did you say? No I said married But her husband is dead Well, now she has taken the cat, for better or for worse.Edina said in a humorous yet angry manner.For richer for poorer… a cat can’t earn a wage Edina and Tom were shouting at each other not realising what impression they were making Mary called. out, Why invite me to tea and shout like this? Did you never shout at Stan? No,I didn’t need to.He listened to me. Well, you are very quiet, said Emile, so Stan had no i to fear you might shout I might have shouted when I read Fermat’s Last Theorem.Mary admitted furtively Was Fermat your teacher,Edina asked? No he died a long while ago Fancy dying and all you have to leave is a theorem Well, it stops the family fighting,Mary said wisely Suddenly the door opened and in flew Annie, the flame haired mistress of the late Stan Why was I not invited to this tea party ,she asked rudely?Are we in Boston? Sorry,dear,said Tom.Not many people like to come here because Edina has a bad temper No I don’t she shouted.You have a bad temper I get so tired of all these projective misperceptions,Emile said in his intelligent voice My therapist was not a cat, but I kept projecting on to him and he looked just like a cat to me until he barked one day.He was in fact a dog.I realised Was that the end of your therapy? Yes, I stole all the money from Mary’s purse and there was none lef.tAnd I learned about projection, that was enough Good heavens,Mary murmured.I thought Annie had taken the money What!You thought I was a thief.Annie bawled What next? Well, you’re more like a sister and I didn’t mind as I know it’s so demeaning to ask for money. See, said Tom to Edina,I said you should not ask me for money after we make love Why not, she enquired? I need some new art materials Can’t you use the housekeeping money? Well, if you are happy to starve,Edina said sarcastically Don’t use sarcasm.Only prostitutes take money.,Tom added.I did say you can buy whatever you like in the way of clothes and so on on our credit card How do you know it’s only whores? Many women do need the money as they may be single mothers trying to feel their family and not getting Universal Benefit on time,Edina told himBut other women might demand jewellery, and expensive houses like Wallis Simpson That’s a fair point,Tom muttered.It’s more complicated than I realised. Money is a big problem in many marriages,Mary called But I earned my own and Stan retired early and got a pension so I had no need to beg him for money But did he beg you,Edina asked? No, we just kept in the bathroom under the soap.So it was clean. I wonder if viruses can spread on money? Tom said I feel sure it is possible but how would we test that out. his wife asked Best to wear gloves but when you take them off the viruses might fly all over the place I didn’t know they could fly, said Emile.Are they invisible? Well, we don’t really know but people often get bad colds when they go on aeroplanes Annie turned pale. Are you ill, Annie? asked Tom I am having a nervous breakdown.I’ve caught paranoia from a £5 note. You can’t catch it,Mary said in her kind voice.It’s not a physical illmess and they are plastic nowadays so they can be wiped down Well where does madness come from? It is horrible feeling so anxious. This is not much fun, said Edina.I thought it would be lovely meeting the neighbours but we go from tarts to paranoia and back.Is this wise? They all sat looking glum,Then Annie revealed all I am a Russian agent sent here by Putin.I befriended Mary on Putin’s orders He must be stupid.Why spy on Knittingham? Well, you will be surprised.Mary is an expert on differential operators On bicycle chains, asked Tom? How ignorant people are.Annie shouted.Did you never see anything odd about calculus and little things appearing and disappearing? Well, to be frank, no! I don’t believe we learned calculus said Edina We learned quadratic quotations Do you mean equations,Mary asked? I don’t know what I mean,Edina said nervously And neither do we, said the others Calculus is a bit like the Mass.Important things happen but we can’t see them.Everything looks the same but it’s not Then they heard a siren.In ran Dave, the heroic paramedic in his new pink dress. and coat Don’t drop the bomb, he told Tom audaciously I’m not President Trump,Tom imformed him gravely That’s what they all say,Dave said to Annie Who can we trust Just Emile,said Mary.And Annie. Why don’t you trust me said Tom? I am waiting to see how you behave,she replied Like a kind of exam? Yes, it’s called Trust your neighbour and yourself? How to know the people who might be dangerous to your life and mental health There’s not much mental health in Britain now,said Tom.I’m a doctor! Well, don’t shout at the patients, said Annie I only shout at home, That is horrible, surely those you love need kindness? Tom burst into tears and Emile lent him his hanky I don’t think we’ll meet any more of the neighbours Edina said Enough is enough.Kindly go home Pleased to meet you, said Dave.Do call me when you need coal bringing in or have a heart attack No way,thought Tom as he drank a bottle of brandy in the bathroom I feel we made a mistake… we will have to move as soon as we can
Stan was standing on a small step ladder washing his windows yet again with a clean blue microfibre and elastane cloth and some Windolene he had bought in Tesco’s I don’t know why I bother, he whispered to Emile, who as usual was watching from the back of the sofa, which he was “milking” gently with his paws. With all the rain, the outside of the windows was besmirched by leaves and bits of mud.A wiser man might have left it alone but Stan had O.C.D which made him very jumpy if he failed to carry out certain tasks… so he made use of it in house chores and baking perfect cakes and buns..and in taking snaps of frogs, birds and flowers.Mental disorder can be useful sometimes. All of a sudden he heard clattering footsteps… Up the garden path walked two women dressed in the latest style of 3/4 length silk cargo trousers with matching blouses, all in a subtle shade of violet. Except for their faces, of course, which were both a light shade of beige; they had Revlon peach blusher on their cheeks and Chanel scarlet lipstick…on their lips.They also wore dark blue nail varnish from Rimmel “Good morning, Stan!” called one of them.”We are Anne‘s cousins from Pittsburgh.She told us to call on you today.” “Well,I never knew wearing expensive makeup ran in the genes… can there be any other explanation?”Stan cried. “Anne told us we must wear it all the time in the UK.” she responded,”even in bed.” “You seem a bit fast,” he answered, “I’m not sure I want to go to bed and as you seem like identical twins,which of you should I bed?” They burst out laughing….oh,what a noise! “I was just saying what she told us,not meaning that you need to go to bed with us.In fact, we sleep together at night.” “As children that would be normal,but don’t you think you should separate now?People might think you are gay!” “We never worry about stuff like that… and by the way,this is Ruby and I am Rosie.” “I’ll put on the kettle and make you some coffee,” the dear man said in a kind tone of voice,before he went into the kitchen and swallowed a handful of red and green striped valium tablets. “I wish the psychiatrist would give me some talk therapy.I don’t like taking valium but I seem to be having visions again… and I don’t want to get worse..I never heard Anne mention cousins in the USA. I wonder if CBT would help me?”he said to Emile. “I see visions all the time,” the cat replied in a matter of fact and calm way. “Do they not make you feel anxious?”Stan called. “No ,I just watch them drift by,” purred Emile.”I enjoy them.” “I wish these two women would drift off.” responded the weary yet charming old man.Ruby and Rosie came inside and admired the kitchen where colanders in many colours hung from the wall into which someone had knocked a few dozen nails. “”Why do you have sixteen colanders?”asked Rosie. “Why do you think everything has a reason?”Stan replied. “I can see you studied philosophy,” Ruby cried disconsolately. “No, I have just read Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein eight times,” he quipped merrily. “Wow,is it not boring?” “No.it’s so good it put me off reading lesser books.And I love to understand things or not understand” Just then Stan tripped on the rug and fell over unconscious .Emile picked up his mobile with its full Qwerty keypad and texted 999. “Why are you texting?”asked Ruby. “Well, it difficult to mioaw down a phone and now I have this Blackberry it’s so easy…. why even a mouse could do it.” “Do you know many mice, Emile?” enquired Ruby wistfully Rosie slowly made some instant coffee, walking around poor Stan ,unconscious on the floor…and she and her twin sat down on some white Swedish chairs at the old oak table and drank it, gazing shyly at the huge weigelia blooming outside in the shed. The front door opened and in ran Dave, the bisexual paramedic. “Is it you, Emile.Have you lost your hankie again?Are you sad?” he moaned nervously. “No, it’s Stan… but at least he’s not broken the chair” Stan came too and looked up… “Oh, lovely,I feel much better for that nap,” he said brightly. “Don’t you have a bed to sleep in?” said Ruby querulously.”I like your mean expression, my dear man.” “Now, look here said Stan,”I’m too old for any monkey business. Besides, I don’t know if you are real.” “We just wondered why you slept on the floor.” “A man has to do what a man has to do,” came the mystifying response. “Now that Dave is here,he can take one of you and I’ll take the other.” “Where will you take us” the twins asked delightfully…. “Do you fancy the cinema… they are showing Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday” “Don’t tell me he’s still on his summer holiday!” riposted Ruby “Let’s go in the ambulance.I’ll lie on the stretcher” offered Rosie generously.. “I’ll lie by you,” said Dave.” and Emile can drive.Stan and Ruby can lie on the floor.” Sometimes life seems so simple, it’s rather like a dream controlled. Controlled by what, asked Emile,clutching his Blackberry. But answer came there none… And that was very odd because.. they’d vanished every one… To read more, why not take out a subscription?At just £100 a day, it’s value for money…as money no longer has any value!
Oh, lidded kettle boil me water fast. I cannot live without your heated blast Your spout is small but perfect for its use. And, as your lid is hinged, it can’t get lost An electric kettle made by Russell Hobbs A teapot with a spout and lid with knob Are what the English need in times of storm If crisis comes, we need tea hot, not warm I don’t object to diverse kettle brands. We had a coal fire once with kettle stand. Its metal black from soot and burned by coke We made our neighbours tea which seemed to smoke. Ah, kettle , instrument of civil life, We cannot boil our water on a knife.
I am unsure why I’ve got interested in using gadgets for other purposes You can make a sandwhich.Wrap it in tin foil and then put on a table.Get the hot iron & press it on one side for a few minutes.Repeat with the other side [check the times on google]T To boil an egg, fill th kettle.Put the egg into a polythene bag tie the top and dangle it into the water Boil the kettle then leave for 5 minutes for a soft egg Repeat if you want a harder one
Now I wonder if I could cook a steak with the iron…. well we don’t iron our clothes much so we can use it for other things I see that jeans should be washed only twice a year [The Times] in between the washes an hot iron pressing should kill the germs! Short of cereal bowls——- use a small pan or pie dish
Could we boil our underwear in a kettle? Oh,no, my underants have shrunk.Still they are clean.Give them to the cat To be continued
My fingers have turned white like chicken breast My toes are blue,I need a woollen vest Tomorrow snow and ice will come again Alas I have no gloves,I need my man’s He has two hands as warm as toast is brown He’s familar with the layout of the town I hold one to keep warm and feel his pulse We never speak , we breathe each other dulce
Come back,dearest, do not leave me here Why not try again,I’ll persevere Can’t we go together, hearts unseared. Dad left me at the end of Southport pier
After 15 minutes or less it will give off a noise like a siren
Omelette pans are very small But they can cook two eggs till they’re fraught Just perfect for one My Eden is come I need sliced tomato in oil
If I have a man needing food A tin of corned beef is so good He can show off his prowess With the little key harassed I just hope I shan’t see his red blood.
My husband like gravy and sauce He had a mellifluous voice He liked roast beef on Sunday And Cottage Pie Monday On Tuesday,I cooked a sliced horse.
Now the weekend is no longer fun Bitter chocolate mould makes me feel glum The nutmeg tree died I did not cry But now and then I try to hum
My book awas criticised for its lack of appendicitises and spelling terrors My Irish accent perforated Ulster I had de Gaulle stones but they passed I have very nasty onions on my feet.My big toe is like a thumb My arches have elapses The book was ok but the appendix was cursed Well having 7 miscarriages saves a lot of money.Why don’t I shoot myself in the butt? I said I’m going to Killarney, not barmy With joints like mine,I’d never smoke one Why do people smoke food? He’s bought some new brutes for lockdown Lose weight.Have a nervous breakdown
We’re not taught wisdom in a school We’re taught notation as a rule When we cross a road we know Just how fast the cars can go To write that down in formulae Takes much longer than a day First we need symbols and signs Arab libraries, our gold mines Numbers counted ancient sheep Goats and reindeer upward leap Connections, patterns shapes and forms Cold as glass and clear as dawn Then the Plague and Newton fled To a country farm and bed Sitting by the apple tree One fell down and hit his knee Another one fell on his head It would be worse if it were lead His thoughts turned onto gravity Thus his inner eye could see Maddened by his locked down state He saw a way to break checkmate Calculus was his way out It’s hard to say what it’s about Tiny numbers dance on pins Demons minute wave their sins Come and go in waves or balls They throw light on the great Fall Use them now or let them go They’re not real, yet they act so After many hundred years We can tell the speed of cars Accelerating they go far Ever changing like love’s eyes Ever true like a sunrise. But if you want to cross the road Better use the Highway Code Thinking too much on the kerb What if s make our minds too scared The body and the senses cry Take good care and you’ll not die Who knows if Covid 19 Will make another genius dream?
Our toe nails grow more slowly than do weeds We do not use them for defence like claws And if we tear the skin, our toes will bleed
Take care of fingers, toes,give what they need If we were tigers, we would have great paws Our toe nails grow more slowly than the weeds
On a dirty toe, do not plant seeds Grow no runner beans, though you enjoy And if we tear the skin, our toes will bleed
Do not grill your digits, please give heed I give my commands for this is War Our toe nails grow more slowly than do weeds
Fortunately toe nails do not breed Lions have got big teeth, that gives me pause If we break the skin, our toes will bleed
On my shin, a lion might love to gnaw How strange a world where killing is a law Our toe nails grow more slowly than huge weeda Do not kick the bin, your feet might bleed
Mathematics A+ What can we say? English Literature:A [ she’s read it all and more] Whatever it is! Sarcasm: Could do better if she didn’t try so hard & was willing to hurt others Anxiety A+:Must trust in God if possible or if not tremble all day Honesty: Ought to get less honest if she is to survive in our Society Kindness:Too much for her own good.We hope to put her into Special Needs soon to learn to be more cruel and how to tell lies Physics B+ : she is obsessed by mercury and so are all the class Chemistry D:She doesn’t know what this is yet Biology: C- The less said the better. Latin A+ : The best pupil but will it be of any real use? French A+: Definitely likes languages and patterns.Is it autism? Concentration A+ : Needs to decide where to direct this now.Seen looking at maps of Lake District under the desk when the English teacher was talking about Thomas Hardy.He never went up North Ambition: lacking any ideas apart from writing a book about Topology [ whatever that is] She does like doughnuts though Thoughtfulness: must do worse Virtue: Ditto.Jesus mixed with sinners I tell her. Greed:Judging by her extreme thinness she needs to develop this rapidly {oh,happy time]
ArtC+ Just look at these cats.Would you agree they have human eyes?
The nuns are scared of her and so are the boys.What to do?
There’s no rule that says every person who writes poetry must read poetry. Plenty of poets write for the sole purpose of personal expression. Poetry writing can be therapeutic, cathartic, and enjoyable. Nobody needs to read in order to write such poetry. But there’s a difference between writing for oneself and writing for an audience of strangers.
When you don’t read or study poetry, it shows in your work. There are identifiers that expose a lack of readership; here are some of the most common clues:
Forced rhymes: You can only think of one word that rhymes with lonely, so you force it into your poem even though it makes no sense or interferes with the poem’s focus.
Meter mishaps: You can’t find a way to arrange the words so that the meter remains intact. Oh well, you decide, and break the meter pattern for that one line. You hope nobody will notice, but everybody does, because that one line throws off the entire flow of the poem.
Square pegs: Similar to meter mishaps, this is when the language is forced to meet the meter, resulting in phrasings that sounds super awkward because the poet is trying to say something in five syllables that simply cannot be said in less than ten.
Word blizzard: Probably the most common mark of an unread poet is the sheer wordiness of a poem. There are often tons of unnecessary words, and the poem reads more like natural speech or choppy prose than crafted poetry.
Art has no editor: This is the mark of many amateur writers, not just poets. But it’s especially common for poets to think that a poem must remain pure, existing in its first-draft from for all of eternity. No editing! These poems are unrefined, peppered with typos, and often display all the other hallmarks of poets who are not well read in their form.
Hello Mary. what are you doing today? There stood a vision dressed in a teal jumpsuit it was Annie, Stan’s mistress,[ when he was alive.] Quite what her status as a former mistress can be is unknown,but she remained on friendly terms with Mary ;she had helped Mary a good deal while she was grieving,mainly by being present yet undemanding not to mention making frequent cups of tea and putting out the washing
I’m going to stay with the Pope in Rome ,Mary cried out from her pink armchair
Are you being sarcastic, ironic, or have you gone mad? Annie replied politely
Well I was trying to be sarcastic but I am not very good at it yet I hope to improve as time goes by because research shows being sarcastic improves your creativity
But can you be sure which part of your life will become more creative, Annie ask her thoughtfully with a little grin
For example you might become more creative in the way you trying to attract men
Well that would not be difficult, said Mary ,as I do nothing to try to attract them at the moment and on the other hand it could be rather time-consuming
Would it improve my ability to write in a creative manner or to be more creative in what I cook?
I have no idea Annie told her. the only problem is is that if you practice on me it might affect our friendship
You are far too childish, Mary told her. Is that sarcastic?
Tell me, the ex mistress of your ancient husband!
What do you mean ancient, he was only 23!
23 what? said Annie
Are we being sarcastic?
Well if we can’t know the answer then we are not being sarcastic because I am sure we would realise if we were
I am glad you can express yourself in such a brief manner
What have briefs got to do with it?
I just found a bag full of dry ones and I have been folding them and putting them into the drawer
Do you mean knickers?
Yes, I do, but I couldn’t remember the name
You’re pulling my leg
No I’m not. I’m nowhere near your leg
Don’t tell me that you are not familiar with the expression meaning “you are joking”
Why do you assume I am not familiar with anything?
I am giving you the benefit of the doubt
Doubt is a very dangerous State of Mind
Shall I wear the pink knickers or the blue ones I spend all morning trying to decide so it is best not to doubt anything but to believe that what you do must be correct and everybody else is wrong
That’s alright as long as you’re not stealing people’s husbands
If they can be stolen so easily what does that tell us about the state of the marriage? Nothing nothing at all, men are so easily beguiled that is in the best of marriages they’re not be enough to keep them faithful for ever
Don’t be so horrible I was trying to be sarcastic Should it not come naturally like loving?
What kind of loving do you mean? If you mean physical loving it doesn’t always come naturally to human beings’
.many couples go for help in having a baby and the doctor discovers they didn’t realise what sex was
They thought by sleeping in the same bed, the wife will get pregnant
It seems very hard to believe but compared to thinking about Donald Trump
and his lies, it is nothing
Shall I put the kettle on, said Mary
That is sarcastic Annie said because you know that I always put it on when I am here it is more like dropping hints Mary cried All these things are very hard for scientists. You don’t solve mathematical problems by dropping a hint nor does anyone drop hints to you whereas in interpersonal relationships it is very important to be able to drop hints and to be able to take hints when they’re dropped in front of you Mathematics and physics much easier than everyday life because they contain no sarcasm no irony and no hints whatsoever I wonder if Wittgenstein would agree with you.
As he is dead we cannot know but I am almost sure he would agree
I was just being sarcastic,that’s all!
It seems like that Mary and Annie are going to have to spend much longer practicing sarcasm before they were able to go outside and be sarcastic to neighbours or Friends
well Emile’s view is that he will not accept sarcasm from anybody
He will bite the hand that feeds him if necessary because he knows that Mary will forgive him when he apologizes
On the other hand it would be easier if he didn’t bite anyone And God might be angry with Emile for being a trying animal to live with
Lying in the heather with you,love The world below,the cliff edge of the hills Swainby,Stokesley, Stockton,Saltburn sea Happy, free, still unaware of bills
The butterflies, the little flower bells The scent of honey and the Yorkshire bees I see your face as clear as it was then But you have crossed the Styx and not the Tees
Yet still I feel your arms that held me near I see you smile , so happy to be wed We hitched a lift right to Osmotherly The entire hill seemed like a marriage bed
There is a place where that sweet day exists I take your hands and kiss your inner wrists
When the pain of grief and rage abate We grieve again,more conscious of our state The sharpness of the anguish was a cloak That made the world of others seem remote
Now like a shadow come back from the dark We feel what we have missed, the vital spark We see a broader view, we see we’re small And little seems of interest,nothing calls
We wander on through mud and sharp thorned briar Scarcely hearing wild birds in their choir Giving up the one we lost, we seek, An open heart, remembrance and peace
Thus layer by layer we grieve and we don’t know Is there a fine ending to this Show?
Embraced entire , your sacred smile held me Until we both were one deep in our souls As still as a white dove held tenderly
For a little time so warm and free As if your smile contained me, made me whole Embraced and loved , your sacred smile touched me
As we cross together the dark sea I wish this sacred love could always hold As gently as a dove ,as tenderly
And if I felt the brilliant light touch me My eyes would weep,my tears would turn to gold Embraced and loved , oh sacramental tree
Would that humankind were truly free That in the darkness, we could find our home As dies the fragile Word on Calvary
We fear the Tempest and we hear the Storm The still small voice will whisper , not perform Embraced entire , your smile encompassed me As still as a white dove, as tenderly
Never now to be embraced and loved Even touch or kiss is disallowed I see a sparrow bathe in my old tub Does a bird desire both touch and love I might believe that of my collared dove But who will touch me now,my heart is mad Swollen,with emotions well endowed Never now to be embraced and loved Every touch or kiss is disallowed
Your face is map enough for me , Your gaze,your smile,your frown,your glee. And if I want to know the rest The shape your posture‘s made is best For showing what your life is now. A look,a gesture all this show. Till who you are is then disclosed And I am in your arms enrobed. Love vanishes when analysed, And thinking too by Love’s despised’ Choose the means to fit the end And then I’ll be what you intend
They knew what we moderns learned this year When deprived of company and touch We need to feel, we need the hands that care
As cats will sleep in heaps beside the fire I would warm,caress you, humans must Cats knew what we humans learned this year
I remember when you brushed my hair When you held me close your skin was musk We need to feel, we need the hands that care
Even touching gently your skin bare Gave me solace, made my world seem just Cats knew what we humans learned this year
Crying babies,nursing them’s a prayer But refugees lie restless in the dust We need to feel, we need the hearts that care
They knew what we moderns learned this year When deprived of company and touch We need to feel, we need the hands that care
Poor in money, yet in loving rich Glue my broken heart up lest it cracks Ancients knew what moderns learned this year We need to feel, we need strong hands that care
How my heart speaks 
