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

Was this the apple then, your mother’s breast
Which father thought was his to oft caress?
And when, in deprived rage, you bit to test,
he vowed to ever you harass.

So then you learned that you could hate as well,
The punishment struck hard in your small heart.
Your memory was unworded, could not tell;
Though pain and anguish made your soft skin smart

.As unknown as the journey to your birth
As shocking as the grief of unmeant wrong.
As frightening as the gauging of your worth
As sudden as the ending of a song.

Impossible to foretell or to prepare,
The ambivalence of our hearts starts here.