Outside wa house ‘t new umbrellas drip~
Wun is red and wun is pretty beige
They’re wa sunshades, t’weather’s hit a blip
If A wer a child A’d sail a ship
Or dash in pools u’ water in mi rage
Outside wa house ,’t new umbrellas drip ;
Times there were Mam’s moods got a grip
Then it wer quite hard to re-engage
Hide wa sunshades, mother’s hit a blip
Mam we’ lovely but she lost her top
Seemed we ‘ad been reading ‘t naughty page
Outside wa house ,’t new umbrellas drip ;
Nuns told me off for speaking in my voice
To get to Cambridge I must Me erase
Now I is a foreigner down ‘ere
No Mam ,no evil nuns ,no wicked sneers

There’s a secret nuclear bunker ar the bottom of my street
It’s on the Ordnance Survey Map along with flocks of sheep
The other one’s in Essex near Brentwood says the sign
Dont get on a train just yet, it’s not the Central Line

Are they for the Government or for my neighbours near?
Who is going to drop a bomb and escalate the fear?
Why d’ye think our tax goes up Boris drugs the goats
He’s building his own bunker now, with a private moat

If the bunker’s secret, who’s it hiding from?
Who can’t yet read English, but knows best how to stun
Is it Meghan Markle or little Lilibet?
Or someone quite invisible who makes the neighbours sweat

Should we all dig trenches and say we grow our spuds?
Either way this is the end,I feel it in my gut

https://fb.watch/71oFtR3c6X/

I feel soft ghostly hands around my throat

That want to pull me to the  darkest deep

My husband cannot leave or be remote

He wishes me to join him in his sleep.

 

I shall resist for I desire to live

Though  blind now are my hours without his face.

I have no more I hope to give

Since he withdrew from me his  kind embrace.

 

As lonely as a swan without its mate.

As tired as swallows after they migrate

I must accept my unconsoled fate

I'll  not  accept this be a constant state.

 

From my loss I shall recover when

The birds return and summer comes again

I have spent  a hundred nights alone
No face to greet  me  when my dreams depart
No comfort  from the warmness of your arm

I  hear your key  but it’s a false alarm
A tear runs down  my face  and then more start
I have spent  a  thousand nights alone

A   river with no bridge  nor stepping stone
This water which keeps  lovers  late apart
No comfort  from the warmness of an arm

I see you are now dust, where are  your bones?
Where eyes to show  me  when you are contrite
I have spent  ten thousand nights alone

In the night you prayed for all who groan
You  smiled  when I  once spoke  of future life
What comfort could I  bring  to the Unknown?

I shall find a way to carry on
I will find the secrets  and the  light
I accept a million nights alone

When we were joined , who knew when we would part?
I am left with fragments of  a heart
 I have spent   so many  nights alone
Give me comfort  ,take me in  your arms

Katherine  March 7, 2017 

The world is exists but I just wish to flee
The flowers come into bud but I can’t see.
The birds have built their new   small nests again
Birds forget, but memory feeds our pain.

When I get trapped inside this mud black silt
I forget the tools my mind has lately  built
Again it feels eternal and unkind
The sorrowing  fills the endless realms of mind.

The mind  helps us to mediate and muse
We need it to give weight to different views
But   inwardness can  build up dangerous walls
We lose ourselves in shadow  and may fall.

The life within us will rise up again
If  we  can accept our mental pain.

I so loved your beautiful
coat of many colours
I almost passed out

Other women made such
Spiteful remarks
I knew it would be hidden

You wore a cheap mac from
A large chainstore after that
Depriving my eyes of drowned joy


And then I became afraid
Of women’s tongues
Destroying what they never found

Envy does not want to like
Handmade clothes
Colours of dawn or sunset

Wants others grey and plain
Treads on their bare faces
In disdain

Do read this interesting article by David J Rogers

https://davidjrogersftw.com/2021/06/16/why-do-writers-painters-and-other-artists-bloom-late/comment-page-1/?unapproved=14397&moderation-hash=e41a1752bdbcd5930ade9b82be66136d#comment-14397

Oh,mother,I have stitched up what you tore
The cuts you slashed, the hate for me you bore
I’ve mended all the holes,I darned and wept
Thinking of the love we could have kept
I tended all my siblings when I could
Even when they hit me and spilled blood
I do not hold a grudge for what evolved
Life is not a problem to be solved
You were left a lonely widow too
You lost your mother young, so sad and blue
Yet you did enjoy to buy a hat
How I longed to help you choosing that
I wish you’d had more money and a man
You feared for us your offspring, had no plan
I lay awake afraid that you would leave,
Terrified and tortured by your needs
Yet I love you still, where is your face?
How I’d love to be by you embraced
Where do mothers go when they pass on
Mother,mother,show me where you’ve gone

Oh,my brother you must go ahead
You always ran away when we were small
I never thought that I should see you dead
Oh,my brother you will go ahead
And in the ground the worms will be well fed
By your loss of voice I am appalled
Oh,my brother youwill go ahead
You always ran too fast when we were small

You cannot speak, your voice was getting weak
Your eyes looked pained but you made no complaint
Even when the news was very bleak
You cannot speak, your voice was getting weak
A single leaked tear down my cheek
I forgave you in my late lament
You could not speak, your voice was getting weak
Your eyes looked pained but you made no complaint

Inside my shell I dream of pearls,
Caterpillars,snails with whorls.
I dream contented, all enwrapped
With reverie and dream I’m lapped.
The inner seas will comfort me,
While gods allow my eyes to see
Oh,sweeter than confectionery
Is my worn old dictionary.
The words whirl round and fall to shape
The sentences, which my world drape.
This furnishing is rich and strange
Yet magically self arranged.
Oh,sweeter than the love of manI
s reading works of poets long gone.
And feeling deeply their dark tides .
Upon which our boat may glide.
The sea infinite we float
on Is the same warm sea where ancients swam.
Sweeter still is this spring air
And the blossom spreading fair
.We’ll drown ourselves in deep green field
To the gods of poetry yield.
We’ll rise again and spring up tall
To grow more rich until we fall.
Sweet it is to live and die
And to write my poetry
Touch me with your ardent souls
My mind and yours shall all be whole

Grief  and love are linked by  metal chains
Imagination cannot  foresee change
When love is killed, its ghost will haunt  and blame

In our wanderings in our mind’s domains
The furniture of mind is rearranged
Rage and love are linked by a  steel chain

The mind itself can change the human brain
The one most strong may be the one insane
When love dies, its shadow will  remain

The hate of loss  is like the mark of Cain
The rational one can be almost deranged
Grief  and love are linked by a  steel chain

What is lost will  heal in its due time
Murderous love   comes from the most estranged
When love’s killed its  ghost will  cause  much pain

Suffering most acute is now in place
Chronic losses cause a pale strained face
Grief  and love are linked by a  gold chain
When love’s killed, its ghost will haunt  and blame

A (first line)
B (second line)
a (rhymes with first line)
A (repeat first line)
a (rhymes with first line)
b (rhymes with second line)
A (repeat first line)
B (repeat second line)

The summer weighs us down with sullen  heat
Even cats and dogs  sit still as stones
Gone are early flowers with fragrance sweet
The summer weighs us down with sullen  heat
The hot flagstones return my angry beat
As people  scurry by ears to their phones.
The summer weighs us down with sullen  heat
Even cats and dogs  sit still as stones

I made this from a photo

You were always running away
And I frightened could not keep up
I only wanted to play

I was run over by a bike one day
But you did not stop
I was six years old, I could not cry

I always missed the right moment
Perhaps there was none.Now you can’t say.

We think there is a future when we can repair
How time flies, does not delay

https://youtu.be/HXjn6srhAlY

I ate my words but could not them digest
The cruel hint, the sentence over -stressed
As if I tried to pierce another’s skin
Which was already dry, and too,too tthin

Better edit what we say with care
Even those we love we must not scare
Take for granted nothing we adore
But walk in that pale sand, by sea, by shore

Do not sink into the mud and dross
Despite we each must carry our own cross
For aid is near but cannot reach the deaf
The silence speaks, it does not cause distress

On the sands, we watch small children play
Bringing blood back to our faces grey

The power of tiny gestures is immense
The nod, the smile, the wink, the thoughtful glance
That means we still exist, though we are lost
And now are forced to pay the total cost

The power of words when written on a card
Chosen with much care when loss has scarred
The little words which meant so much to me
I had them framed so I would always see.

The big romantic game, the winners stare
The losers slink away, will they not bear?
The weight of death and loss, the fear of shame
The onea who cut us dead, the ones who came

Forgive me now for all I have not done
Omission of good words, a smile, a pun

Katherine December 13, 2019

Boris Johnson  thrown out by his wife
Now he has a different tole in life
He has a  girlfriend will he have more kids?
Lucian Freud was  surely up for this
They say he might have had perhaps  thirty   two
With all that sperm what is a man to do?
He could take Precautions as they say
I  prefer icecream  but let’s go  stray

Lucian Freud  was not a man to  rule
They say he once burned down his own Art School
He married once, he married twice but no
He would not be captured  in Soho
Beautiful and strange he made his mark
Boris Johnson   has a  nuclear heart

Winter will come down upon us all
Europe we are sad, almost appalled
Sadness for the surgeon who cured me
The cancer  grew  like lightning hits a tree
He is Greek and no-one else was skilled
To leave me looking   better  than God willed


Will he  go back   to where  his grandad  came?
Say a little prayer for my dear face
I don’t want  to suffer but  all will
We’ll die sooner,  sadly Boris kills
The NHS is  going slowly  to its grave
Watched by men who  look  without a face

Fling up your plans like weapons in the sun
All I know is darkness overcomes

Why not keep a lid on your demands
Say they’re wishes not that they’re commands

The other person is as real as I
Where is sorrow when another dies?

Step out as bravely as a bull might do
The matador is here to provoke you

We must die but noone can demand
The time, the date, the love, the perfect plans

The needle’s eye is different for the blind
Easy threading needles, very kind

I learned my perfect vision was witheld
How much can we lose yet be ourselves?

Where the buzzing bee has sipped and spat
I shall sit and wear an old sunhat

We both had cancer, why did I live on
When the irreplacable has gone?

We do not know why we are living still
I hope I have enough to pay the bill

Silent and attentive as an owl
The tom cat is betrayed by his own yowl

“The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.”
― John Stuart Mill, On Liber