O
We felt lonely in the garden
Noone climbed through our dense briars
All we saw were flying saucers,
Plus twenty menstruating liars.
Is it right to be amusing
Is it ethical or droll?
I have neuralgia in my eyeball
Would you like to see it roll?
Would you like to be my pupil
Would you widen in the light?
I saw angels on the roses.
What a ravishing delight
A bird taps on our window every day,
Fast as flying leaves whirl in a gale.
But now he perches on the potted bay.
He feels the weather as the blind do braille.
This bird is faithful and I love him dear.
He’s thoughtless as he pecks upon the glass.
I hope he has a modicum of fear,
For who knows when a sparrow hawk will pass?
I see him like a human soul forlorn
Struggling to discern his own true way.
For soon he may be taken by a storm
But blithely he will eat, and after play.
The smallest bird has trust in the Unknown
By his example, our right way is shown
There was a holy place made with the screens
Where lay the old man, trembling into dream.
His face was pale, his nose felt like white ice
An offering on the block for sacrifice.
The sacred place was marked by song and prayer
Made quietly so no-one else would hear.
He held my hand and whispered, please don’t go.
I held him in my heart, as his went slow.
A cocoon made in noisy A and E
A strange place for the Lady God to be.
Deep silence underneath the usual noise,
Pierced only by my child-like singing voice.
I saw his soul, my tears made stiff curtains
Hidden so, I felt the weight of pain.
I felt my heart crack, struck by loss and grief
Death had been there like a silent thief.
His pale face on the pillow seemed to smile
The kindness of strange angels did beguile
We are in this boat together
Sailing across the bay.
Some have an easy voyage,
The wind is blowing their way
I wish I could always be sailing
Across an ocean with you
And never reach the other side
though it may be in view.
I want to see the sunrise
Across the dappled sea.
The ripples of the water
Reveal a new world to me.
One day this boat will reach the shore
Unless destroyed by storm
And I shall have to leave your arms
Where I have been so warm.
So just before we get there
I wanted you to know
That I shall always love you
Wherever you may go.
O happy worm that of my flesh might eat
When after death I lie in deep in the earth
My bosom,hands and eyes become your meat
You have no sun as you enjoy your feast
And none is chosen as we were at birth
O happy worm that of my flesh might eat
All of us are equal in defeat
None are high or low , what are we worth?
My brain,my hands,my eyes become worms’ meat
In the soil, we rest in comfort sweet
Let us all be blessed,God make no curse
You made the happy worms who will us eat
O remember the deep ash from Auschwitz’ heat
The little children killed without Kaddish
Those hearts ,those hands, those eyes no worm could eat
,
Why should we be satisfied by wish
When people burn or starve beside our dish
O Godly worm that of my flesh might eat
Let my very self become your meat
Joy sings now in golden light,
Then after day comes deep,black night.
New moon is rising by grey trees,
The earth is where I want to be.
I want the day,I want the night.
I want the dark.I want the light.
I want to see and to be seen,~
And not to lose my precious dreams
The sun has set, grey clouds turn black,
The day just gone will not come back.
I’ll rest in quiet reverie
Until the reaper’s scythe takes me.
And then I drop and mix with dust,
Till worms and beetles sate their lust.
And fall into ten thousand motes,
And dance, in sunlight, music’s notes.
No more striving ,no more ambition
No more fighting,no competition.
Every particle’s the same
Without even a unique name.
And, side by side, we all are one,
The lusts of life have been and gone.
We dwell with dirt and grain and sand
At last we’ve reached the Promised Land
My husband was already a very humorous man. I was sitting holding his hand in A and E for 3 hours and he seemed to be concentrating on something
He lifted his head and smiled at me looking very happy and then he winked he put his head pillow and that was it. His pulse had stopped.
I was sitting on a plant pot in my grandads old backyard
He used to be a coal miner, so we had a lover birds
Grandad loved canaries I liked little wrens
We’ had few up in Manchester, we had big mills and rain,
Grandad had no deck chairs that’s why we sat on pots
When we went to Blackpool we had deck chairs by the lot
We went to Southport on the train, the sand was like sick dust
The sea was just a mirage, go there if you must.
The people were all friend they called each other cock
If you go there in the morning I wish you you much good luck
I was sitting in the plant pot hiding from the dog
Grandad called her lassie, she died at 6 oclock
Floating in the mists inside your mind
You have no connection to your kind.
Fear cut through the cord that make us safe
We float away we see no sharpened knife
Keeping the eyes blurred is our defence
One that needs no excess maintence
Yet if the lion approaches you and snarls
No fog will save you from his savage arms
Myopia is no aid in jungle war
we wont see the tiger with its claws
Cowards denied Christ he did not fail
Nor did Jonah sleeping in his whale
Floating in your non-existent world
Is safety safe ? Will fog destroy the hail?
Katherine beautiful thoughts, childhood, Courage, death, emotion, how to live, images, sorrow, Thinkings and poems, truthfulness, virtue October 2, 2021 1 Minute
Ah,brother I don’t want you to lie still
No blood to circulate,no thoughts,no will
No help,no humour.jokes no
sharp true eye
From our old shared pram,to live, to die.
I used to do your homework
late at night
Abstract thought to you was no delight.
You wondered over X and y and z
Preferred the shapes of Nature in your head.
I shall retain the memories of the good
You who taught me speech and hate and love
There are superficial trends in our society to encourage us to build our self esteem and to value ourselves… to develop and achieve a place suited to our talents.. but what is best for me is when I lose myself in something.I was reading an old blog of a friend and was quite absorbed and went into a different state of mind..then I regretted I don’t manage to lose myself enoughb have an adult having much on my mind and being busy.
Sometimes it can happen when we love a person.Sometimes a wonderful landscape feels like home.. other times a sunset across the Irish sea from the cliffs of the Isle of Man where myriad butterflies swirl and float over flowers and rocks.
Modern life, the News,talk,excitement of the wrong sort seem to lock us into our self and frighten us so we forget the value of finding something in which to lose ourselves and grow as a result. Sitting by a river fishing,knitting,sewing,a book, many things can elicit this response And remember how horror filled was the self consciousness of adolescence and how good to forget one’s self being more comfortable and accepting of appearance and image..How to live like a wild flower for a time… and be happy not to be a rose but just a tiny wild geranium or a moderate sized gentle pink flower in a arden
.
The pebbled beach on which we walked at dawn
The sun was dancing singing stone to stone
The sea was pale as silk and gently ran
The tide was coming in, the day began
Why is my memory so deficient here?
I rem LPember little but you near
I remember Portland Bill at dusk
The sea was wilder then with many thrusts
Happiness was like a golden shawl
A world like Eden, man before the Fall
Today they say, illusion, I say, no
What matters is where this insight makes you go
The fruits of meditation are its test
May we be generous,kind, may souls be blessedS
The red leaves in the sunshine seem to smile
A pale blue sky, a silver aeroplane
I’m happy,I am warm, in your arms coiled
I have no heater but the kettle boiled
I made us coffee then my parcel came
My face in the small mirror had a smile
My love is deep, you never were on trial
If we quarrel, we both share the blame
I’m happy,I am warm, in your arms coiled
Our sorrow is, we have not made a child
Jesus cursed the fig tree in its shame
Yet red leaves in the sunshine seem to smile
Sorrow need not madden nor make bold
We do not know the purpose nor the game
I’m happy,I am warm now as I toil
We need old fashioned virtues like restraint
We don’t see the whole as life we paint
The red leaves in the sunshine seem to smile
I’m happy,I am warm, the sea sings wild
Although Stan was 102, he still rode his bike locally in the summer time.He was out in the garden pumping up the tires before going off to the Library.Suddenly his neighbour Annie appeared at the gate, without him hearing her feet tapping on the path of red brick;she was bedecked in finest Scottish tweed with a long pendant on a solid 22 carat gold chain swinging nonchalantly from her neck, with a matching ring attached mysteriously to her upper lip.
“Who’re you, the Lady Mayoress” he joked.
Where’s Mary?” she pointedly whispered.
”She’s with her widowed sister Joan up in Scotland ” Stan admitted nervously, unsure of her reactions.
”Joan, that’s not a very Scottish name!” Annie joked.” Anyway how about we sit down here on this bench for a moment”.She pulled him vigorously towards her.
Stan responded regretfully
“I’m afraid I can’t stop.I have all these books overdue and the library shuts in 15 minutes
.”Don’t worry, sweetheart”, she cried un-contemptuously.”I’ll pay all your fines.I’ve just come into loads and loads of money.”
“Oh, how’s that.my angel” Stan murmured. “I shot Bert.If you help me to get rid of the evidence, I’ll share the loot with you.”
At the funeral, Annie was dressed in a beautiful dark brown suit with a black trim from Jaeger.She went around the room making sure everyone had enough food and drink.As she leaned over towards Stan her heavy gold locket, inside which was hidden the bullet that killed Bert, swung over and hit Stan a glancing blow on the temple.
Stan fell to the ground
.”Do you think we should ring 999?” someone asked sarcastically.Within minutes, paramedics arrived.
“So, is it that chair again?” they clamoured.
”Yes, this foolish old man fell over and the leg came off my brand new antique chair.I’ve only had it a few days and it’s not insured.”
“Did anyone ever tell you, your eyes are like deep pools in the Saragossa Sea?” Dave, the paramedic whispered into her right ear.
“Have you still not finished that Creative Writing Course?” Annie shouted.””I’m getting tired of you admiring my eyes.What about my nose?””
“Has anyone ever told you, your nose is the shortest they’ve ever seen?”
“That’s a bit boring” Annie retorted.
”Yeah, maybe I should change to Art,” he ruefully moaned.”I love the way your deep blue and turquoise eye shadow is melting around your eyes and running down the sides of your nose.”
“Hurry up and fix my chair, and while you’re about it, you may as well take Stan down to A and E for a head X-ray.”
Glancing furtively at Annie in her Jaeger suit with carefully contrasting deep coral blouse and opaque teal blue 80 denier tights with 6 inch stiletto heels to complete the outfit, not to mention her raspberry coloured bra which clashed violently with the coral blouse [which alas was more transparent than she realised], he picked up a hammer and began,excitedly,to mend the broken chair.
”This is what life is all about, my boy” he thought.One day I will be just where I should be.Right here.With her,alone!
Little did he know the true tale, that Annie had murdered her husband merely because she felt very bored.
Boredom is dangerous.If you are affected why not go out and look at some hats? Why not take up drawing. is now online
Microsoft Paint
Katherine fiction, humor, love, nonsense, reflections, sonnet,
Soft corns,blisters,hard corns and toe nails
Ankle socks and stockings, tights and boots
Cover up the wounds with dressings white
Put your feet up, rest by doing nought
Skin so thin it frightens me to think
All I am finds boundary just here
Yet our heart and soul can contain more
Spreading like a shawl on loved ones dear
We cast our love like fishers cast their rods
Not too sure of what will take the bait
A simile so poor I blush bright pink
For love seeks not to prey but rather waits
Across the entire world the hate runs wild
Bleach your brain , don’t poison with your smile
It Jesus Christ and his mother Mary and father Joseph had arrived in a dinghy on the south coast the Home secretary would have sent them to Uganda. And if God were there
Would they have sent God to Uganda?
Well since God is everywhere he’s already in Uganda.
But 2000 years ago aeroplanes did not exist
Why,is it a long way to Uganda?
Where do you think it is is?
I thought it was one of the Shetland Islands.
In that case why are people from Uganda black?
Well it can get very hot in Scotland.
Is it doesn’t make sense because we are further South than Scotland and we are not all black
And Africa is further South than England and most of them are black.
This form of argument is clearly not very satisfactory. A lot of people in Britain believe that Uganda is an island off Scotland that might be why Suella Braverman gets away with her proposals. But I don’t think she really thinks Uganda is in Scotland.
I didn’t know she went around making proposals. I thought she was already married. Does she come from Uganda do you thinj?
What a racist remark. My newsagent came from Uganda because they were afraid of idi Amin
I’m sorry but I didn’t realise it was racist to mention Uganda
What about Uganda?
Strangely before the Germans killed the Jews they had wondered about sending them to Uganda. It’s understandable but Jews are not black. And Uganda was and probably still is very dangerous place to live for anybody.
Some Jews are yellows and they live in China.
What a remarkable coincidence. Can they speak Chinese
Yea they realised that’s Hebrew is not spoken by many Chinese people.Nor are Jews born speaking Chinese even when they’re living in China yet Chinese babies speak in Chinese. It’s all very puzzling
Well the Hebrew alphabet is easier to learn than the Chinese alphabet.
It’s one thing learning the alphabet but it is another to speak the language.
Just think most people in Britain didn’t know the alphabets until the last 200 years. They could communicate with each other really well. They could speak English perfectly
And when they learnt the alphabet they could read the Sun and the Mail.
What a great step forward for humankind. They couldn’t read the Moon though.
Don’t start talking about horoscopes.
Surely it’s the planets that count.
I can’t!
Very intelligent people can’t always count
Perhaps they were born before numbers were invented
I never knew numbers were invented
Well have you ever seen a number when you been out walking or when you been at home with your beloved.
Are you telling me that numbers are not real?
They are a product of our imagination starting off from the need to count your goat so sheep when the human race we came agrarian rather than Hunters gatherers.
But even Hunters would need to count the number of animals that they had caught unless it was only one or two
So the development of a number system which took hundreds of years then became something that anybody could use The symbol 0 zero is believed to have been invented by Indian mathematicians and I believe that when they traded it wasn’t only spices and silks and all sorts of goods but also ideas will travel. Maybe that’s why Marx believe that everything was economics.
In a very real sense everything is economics
zero
God is not the cold condemning Judge
He is a Golden Light,he loves us much
We meet him in our agonised despair
When doubts have killed us like the lack of air.
He will warm us; we can live again.
Despite the suffering and the intense pain.
He will come to us in tongues of flame.
Mysterious fire,oh love without a name
For so long you loved and imitated me
Then we were students at the university
Without you, I won’t feel like anyone
To whom shall I turn when you are gone?
When you’re the one who shared my infant bed
When you’re the one who treasured what I said
When you’re the one I soothed in the dark night
When you are gone there can be no more light
When the moment comes,I must believe
For trees shall weep their leaves as if bereaved
Then will my sister heart with sadness heave.
Oh do not do not ,do not ,do not leave
In answer to your question I declare
That I must die seems totally bizarre
Yet since you ask which burial I prefer
Cremation seems to be the least unfair
I’d like to hear the sound of Joan of Arc
Jennifer and Leonard sing in parts
And as the Maiden burns up in the pyre
I shall be consumed by controlled fire
I’d like to be more useful while alive
I am not a husband nor a wife
But I might be a friend to those I love
And pray the sun will shine ,below, above
I think I made a Will,but why d’you ask?
Do you think you’ll benefit at last?
I plan to leave it all to Charity
One that gives old folk meringues for tea.
You never phone without your wise advice
About how housework should fulfil my life
But my mind is as good as yours, I find.
I keep it oiled and covered in red wine.
Joan of Arc will be my friend and saint
September Cohen will become my mate
He’ll sing a
n anthem while I sail away
And give me courage when it hurts to pray.
It’s time to laugh and cry over our lives
As to the young we dictate our archives
Though few people listen the Word
At least we can assure God that we have tried
I wonder why you never rang before
And today I shall be nineteen ninety four
I will ring you when your birthday comes
To ask you if you’d like pickling in rum.
I came to see you leave, it was well done
I saw your faces blurred and indistinct
My eyes were full of tears I had to blink
Where I looked again the train has gone)
Kindertransport helped you to survive
I hope the children in Ukraine will live
I’m a ghost there’s nothing I can give
But tell you that my children are alive
My children have got children of their own
They live in in English towns, they play their games
English both in manners and names
Jewish in the blood and in the bones
I float away to join the other lost
I died and now you live, at what a cost
For so long you loved and imitated me
Then we were students at the university
Without you, I won’t feel like anyone
To whom shall I turn when you are gone?
When you’re the one who shared my infant bed
When you’re the one who treasured what I said
When you’re the one I soothed in the dark night
When you are gone there can be no more light
When the moment comes,I must believe
For trees shall weep their leaves as if bereaved
Then will my sister heart with sadness heave.
Oh do not do not ,do not ,do not leave
Your face is etched upon my heart.
I knew you in the morning light
Love is wise but never smart.
We have no need of others charts
In the mornings and the night
Your face is etched upon my heart.
As we waken sleep departs
To see your face is my delight
Love is wise and sometimes smart
Intuition, craft is art
Love is silent, hatred fights
Your face is etched upon my heart
Human Love can see in part
Face to face we’ll see aright
Love is wise love is not smart
Your face is etched upon my heart.
Love is wise but never smart
Is love blind? Who etched the lines?
Sacred, human, love is kind
How my heart sings 