Derry
A blog is a guide’s best friend
He has no best fiend yet
She drowned their worries in a sing song
A fog got them in the bend
She frowned in a bath of cold water
Where is the Curse this morning?
Be patient with us
I got here first but why?
We are understaffed, full of idiots and believe in euthanasia How are you?
.I believe in sudden wrath
He flew onto a page.
She had a clinic attack ,It was the doctor
I am lying
So am I
Pay less tax,.. take a lower paid job or become a beggar
Get a smaller house in a tougher area.
Sell your car
Don’t buy goods on which you pay VAT
Get rid of your accountant
Sell your dog and get a cat
Don’t marry, love in sin
Do we really need a licence to love?
Change the law
The endless sobs, the weeping with loud voice
Noone would live here by choice
The families cannot bear the mother’s pain
So they send them here the sense is plain
How do Carers paid the lowest wage
Replace the family who have disengaged?
Yet the old are selfish in their whines .
They drive away their child so many times
Love must have conditions it’s no game
Before you age remember this fact plain
The tree’s pale branches turn again to red
Lately they’ve been pale yet they are not dead
The Covid winter did the same to us
Yet we shall brighten too we be are not cursed
There is no God who punishes like this
Though we have gone wrong we seek new paths
But men will fight engendering new wrath
Murder hate and rage can grip our hearts
Even in the home, fly poisoned darts
One changed person,one new life
Can lead many others out of strife.
Oh God I’m feeling frantic in my room
I wish to pray, Lord are you yet on Zoom?
if you need a laptop I like Dell
Don’t appear too bright,I’m in a cell
I stole some cash and alcohol as well.
Now they’re going to put me on the pill
Is it contraception I don’t know
I am schizophrenic ,what a blow.
I am having therapy long term
Don’t use my phone I need it for my crime
Now I am mad and Boris rules the land
One fine day this man needs to be banned
Born to sin,,,the original story
Born with a fin,.. the half life of a fish
Born in a tin,,,how to become a baked bean
Born to pin. A tailor’s life
Born to win .but at what?
Made with bear,. I am still there
In the Arctic full of elastic
My first confession.. I stole a tomato to give the priest
My last confession, I don’t remember.
Oh, it’s Bloody Sunday here in Britain
An obituary is easily written
Many people shot and killed
As slowly grind God’s many mills
So civilised we are always right
Did these people not want to fight?
Cowards here the unarmed men
Shot by Britain now again
Women too may mingle in
We’re not averse to shooting them
Our care and manners are skin deep
We’re barbarians , you are sheep.
Ireland starved and treated ill
I am angry at this still
Now we know if there’s Civil War
The army is trained to shoot us all
Black and white,Fenian green
The mountains mourn for they have seen.
Oh, it’s Bloody Sunday here in Britain
An obituary is easily written
Many people shot and killed
As slowly grind God’s many mills
So civilised we are always right
Did these people not want to fight?
Cowards here the unarmed men
Shot by Britain now again
Women too may mingle in
We’re not averse to shooting them
Our care and manners are skin deep
We’re barbarians , you are sheep.
Ireland starved and treated ill
I am angry at this still
Now we know if there’s Civil War
The army is trained to shoot us all
Black and white,Fenian green
The mountains mourn for they have seen.
Each body cell can widen or contract
Like individual beings, each minute,
Each shows a different world than we expect
In our secrecy, new visions may impact
Our hidden mind with metaphor’s astute,
As body cells each open or contract
From our pain, experience distracts.
The mind and heart and soul can each re-route
We see a world more changed than we expect
The world of trust, of relaxation, tact,
Tensions in the mind will soon dispute.
The choir of cells may sing or lose affect
Faith in the unknown, what shows our lack?
Can we reach such faith in minute steps?
We “see” our world too much under attack
As glows the candle, at sweet Fire it hints
Let each respond in their own dialect
Each body cell can widen or contract
We see new worlds, not mirrors ,blind reflects
The sky is yellow ochre tinged with grey
The sun is gone and we felt stark dismay
We can’t meet friends in person any more
Only shout as we stand by the door
I think the source of Covid is just cash
Money laundered less, the notes unwashed
The coins are black as coal in devil’s claws
Don’t leave the tip that kills , nor money gnaw
I used to suck a shilling while I worked
I tapped my fingers where it would not hurt
But now the sight of pounds makes me feel sick
Never use old notes nor lovers lick
Throw your money into a black hole
You may starve but this will save your soul
What a friend we have in zero
We get morbid, disappear,no?
No demand can bring back heroes
At my command we flung theories.
How wet sand won’t answer queries.
Come unto the Queen’s tiaras
I’ll have baked beans on your knee, Oh !
Scaffolding bores the view
Dwarfs the tree and fence
Unfinished work
Abandoned weather rotted,
Where is the owner?
I don’t like this
At all
I looked round but the place was empty
No furniture,except the blue kitchen units
Nice, I thought just right for one
The black tiled floor gleamed in the dawn sunlight
But it doesn’t seem right
Where are our books?
I can’t remember the house
Is he there?
I have lost him
Misplaced him
He would never have left me
I can’t find his image in my mind
He has evaporated,the hot sun stole him
Not even a shadow remains.
What Loss
What disintegration
Where do I go from here?
Darkness fell but I still see the tree
Black as human hearts in misery
Black as coal before it’s set alight
When it casts sweet shadows in the night
More of a derrière
Scores to worry her.
Whores will ferry her
Stories to message her.
Victoria savaged where?
Dons to scarify
I hoard carriage bears
Lore of Lancashire
Core of austerity
Door of prosperity
Flora He married her
She was a bull terrier
That was the barrier.
It could have been eerier
Even hysteria.
Living in fear of her
I like blue wisteria
Not in the interior
How do you feel,wearier?
I saw Mother Superior
Holding hands in the dark
Helps us when we cannot talk
Touching, holding, being there
Gives us strength so we can bear
The heavy load,the angst, the care
The holy dove,the hands of love
Down below, up above
Grasp my body, hold me tight
Through the nightmares,give me light
Comfort me, we’re not alone
In the darkness be my home
The sun appeared but now has left us here
With dull grey sky and trees as cruel as spears
We control our homes as best we can
But. Nature is a Force more strong than Man
Even in our bodies we feel pain
Thus evil is around us like a stain
Why does God all powerful not step in?
When children die,when wars begin again?
When every state has weapons for mass kills
Jesus dies with victims of our Will
We allowed the government our tax
So our evil to the worst is matched
Many hands make sight work
I thought it was our eyes
Though it might work
Many women make tight work
My husband was puzzled by a Consultant Dermatologist
What was that she had on?
She wore a short dress that clung like a bathing suit except it had no crotch.Luckily she had white knickers
It would be cheaper to buy s bathing suit !
The sun appeared but now has left us here
With dull grey sky and trees as cruel as spears
We control our homes as best we can
But. Nature is a Force more strong than Man
Even in our bodies we feel pain
Thus evil is around us like a stain
Why does God all powerful not step in?
When children die,when wars begin again?
When every state has weapons for mass kills
Jesus dies with victims of our Will
We allowed the government our tax
So our evil to the worst is matched
The wooden sides and base are worn to smooth
I stare into the river water soothes
London’s first clean water from far springs
Now your ashes mingle as birds sing
I cannot take them back,dissolved to mud.
Nor see your face again as a wife should
I let you go and set you free to fly
What kind of love is this that lets men die?
As you lay, your cubicle smelled sweet.
Peaceful as a heather moor retreat
The sun broke through the fuzzy clouds of grey
Boris Johnson’s fiddling in dismay
To be a Carer in a Nursing Home is not an unskilled job Although that’s the way it looks when they get the minimum wage of £9 per hour
The job entails relating to older people.cIt involves communication skills perception and judgment.
The right words may help someone through the day or night and let them telax
The wrong ones can be very harmful
I suppose it may force some to seek further education or training courses but why do we put our relatives into places where the immense burden of care is carried by people who do not seem to be highly valued and respected nor reasonably well paid.
In some places they get no sick pay Do they get holiday pay?
Think about it
How my heart sings 