His face endures

The face that was familiar is no more

 Though in my dreaming mind his face endures

My heart is not beloved as before.

All alone I’m weary and I’m sore.

I throw myself to earth, the widow’s cure

Would I were a witch. I’d light the fire.

And end my life upon a widow’s pyre

I have no child, my empty womb is bare.

In my dreams he lives, I am a liar


By Katherine copyright

Cartology,,…….how to manage a horse and cart.

Cynicism,,… cultivating cynics.

Pointillism,,….. giving meaning to even very small things.

Logisticalist,,…..imitating logic.

Impressionism,……looking better than you ought to

Premodernism,…,a forward looking philosophy

Fictionalology,,,. The science of invention

Maternalism,….the love of people of all kinds

If I am sent to Heaven will I feel like Hell?

I’m feeling very lonely,I’m feeling very sad
The cat has scratched my ankles ; I think I have gone mad.

I have to face reality,I have to see it all.
I must not use denial,I have no bloody gall
I must not yet re-marry,I must not go to bed
Apparently ,it’s sinful,though my old man is dead.
There seem to be some rules,though they are all unsaid
Who will keep on watching me and see what books I’ve read.
I can’t read about doctors,I can’t watch Casualty
I can’t bear hearing sirens,I wonder where to flee.
I can’t read no real fiction and I can’t draw no art
I only took the oil paint to spread it on my heart.
I’m going to ask the doctor if I can have it out
It’s made me feel so dreadful, he cannot have a doubt.
Surely some new batteries would serve me in its stead.
Hearts are such a problem even when you’re dead.
Some folk have them pickled and some have them in jars
I’ll keep it on the Printer or in my sister’s car.
No-one will offend me for I will never feel
Just one tiny problem,will I still be real?
If I am sent to Heaven will I feel like Hell?
What a bloody nuisance, nobody will tell.


The Silence in the middle of a wood


Mary woke up as she heard a strange noise.Except it was not as she had overslept.
She put her head out of the window where a young man was standing by the wall
You can leave their parcel here, she cried in her muffled shriek
I have come to collect one, he responded
But they are not at home, she informed him.They have emigrated
No wonder, the man said.I’d like to escape from Dominic Cummings
Has he captured you?
He damages my soul and God is angry
Let’s leave God to one side.I know how you feel, I think
Thank you very much.God will remember
Mary sat in bed and wondered where Stan was.Suddenly she realised he was dead.
Emile came in purring loudly
Emile, is Stan really dead?
I think so although sometimes I think I see him in the kitchen with his Robert Carrier cookbook
Tears came into Mary’s eyes remembering all the meals Stan cooked
He would be horrified if he saw her eat a frozen shepherd’s pie or macaroni cheese straight from a tin
At least I still use Earl Grey Tea, she thought intelligently
Mary drank tea from a large blue mug; in fact it was half a pint of tea. She looked at her phone to see if any emails from her friends were there but none of her friends had written to her which could hardly be surprising as they had all written to her the day before
She saw a letter from British Gas offering her help during the lockdown but she didn’t use gas anymore. if they had been more compassionate when she was having trouble with her boiler she might still be using it but she had decided that gas was a bad thing; it made her think about horrible things like Sylvia Plath and the Holocaust
On the other hand electricity has also been used to harm people and kill them in the United States ;what was the answer?
The best thing is to get up at once. she said and read The Guardian the Times, Independent newspaper The Telegraph and the London Review of Books.By the time she has read all of those who would go back to bed?
Only a sex addict and has she had no husband that was impossible
After all, who prefers a plastic vibrator to a loving man or woman?Mary decided 4 Weetabix and some milk would make a very nice breakfast
Where is my breakfast, called Emile louder?
Oh dear I am very sorry , would you like some kippers for your breakfast
Thank you, Mother
How many times do I have to tell you that I am not your mother; I am human and you are a cat
But you are my mother in a metaphorical sense :you look after me, you feed me, you bath me
On the other hand I sleep on your bed and if I was your son you would not want me to sleep on your bed would you since I’m 18 years old?
No, it might look like incest Mary replied humorously but would an 18-year old youth be attracted to an older lady
Don’t ask me, he said, I am just a cat
I would not know my own mother if I met her and if she was willing I might even mate with her without knowing that she was my mother. God is very kind to animals in some ways but on the other hand why does he let people hunt and kill for fun?
Well he would not tell Job nor his so-called comforters so I don’t know whether he’s going to tell me; if he did tell me I might not be able to understand
Why not, said the cat?
When we don’t know what language God speaks how can we talk to him?
Only by paying attention in the Silence in the middle of a wood or a cathedral as long as it was not full of tourists and and dogs
Are dogs allowed to go inside a cathedral?
I don’t know said Mary I have never thought about it before but I would imagine they are banned because they might start Barking at the wrong moment
I could go to church, Emile cried
Do you want to go to church , Mary asked him
If there is nothing else to do, I will go to church, he mewed
That is not the right attitude, she told him, God is more important than anything else at all
How do you know God is not here in the house
Yes he is; he is everywhere but we can’t see him except in the eye of a child or or the smile of an old man when he is going to die peacefully in the arms of his wife
And what about the wife? the cat pondered<Shall I have to hold you in my arms so that I can see God in your smile as you pass away
Oh dear me said Mary. I never thought of that I am too big to go into your arms. I can go on a diet and save money by only eating half a tin of Heinz macaroni cheese for my supper and half a tin of vegetable soup for my lunch
It is impossible, the cat told her, because even if I eat a lot my legs will never go any longer and as mathematician you should be able to see that you would have to become as small as a tiny baby before I could put my arms around you
The end of a wonderful dream,sighed Mary
I’ll have to ask somebody else Dr Patel maybe if I can die in his arms|
It is like the ultimate act of love to allow someone to die in your arms but one can’t do it too often as it is too emotionally and spiritually demanding
I agree, mother, the cat told her and now I’m going outside to try and catch you some frogs from the pond next door, goodbye.

To return love for hate—- is it possible?

rock formation
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What is humor except crossing a boundary?
I wish I were an ivy growing on your wall
I wish I were a berry
Just about to fall
I wish I were a hazelnut
And you would break a tooth
For my name is Sally
and not, and not,not Ruth

Why Am I Worried? You Should Be.


But that’s OK! Just getting by and not fully collapsing is more than enough right now. But if you find yourself particularly distracted or stressed out this week, try a 60-second reset, a wonderful tip I learned from friend of Smarter Living Arianna Huffington.

“I use my reset many times a day, it takes 60 seconds,” Ms. Huffington told me. “You basically put together the things that are joy triggers. It could be photos of people you love, pets, quotes, landscapes, music you love, a breathing pace.” In just 60 seconds, she said, you can change your mind-set, adding, “Gratitude is the greatest antidote to stress.”