I’m hanging on in the kitchen, clutching the knives and the forks

I don’t want to go back to heaven, I don’t like the angels to talk.

I’m inclined to be elusive, I don’t want to land on the earth.

It’s difficult flying forever,when your mother has given you birth.

I put some lead weights on my shoe tops, let my balloons float away

I’m happy to be your companion, but let’s keep it to just one short day.

My fingers are stretched I could touch you, but I can’t stand the horrible shock.

I have to go back where I came from, I have put my own eye on the clock.

I know that I am very restless and I can’t keep my marital vows.

But isn’t my occasional presence better than enjoying rows?

I’m here yet I’m not here my lover, like the waves that roll up on the sea.

I’ve got schizoid personality disorder, be charitable speaking of me.

Is Augustine of Hippo were kinder, I would not be afraid of the flesh.

Men who hate the vagina have got morality into a mess.

Would your own cat believe you, if you told her that she was a slut?

Sometimes I feel that I’m crazy as for the saints do you think they are nuts?

Samsung and Delilah did not get on very well

If only Eve had not bought an apple  iPhone

Yahoo punished Adam severely

Was Asus the son of God too?

God said, why are you here, you liar?

Elijah invented Intel,computers and chips. but not pizza

I’ll be judge and I’ll be jury,said cunning old Fury

I have seen the Light on Google Drive

The Cloud of Unknowing is not a good place to save your poetry

He filed me under “wonder” on One Drive

One Drive,One G-d, One World

Where is Ogle Drive?

Yeshua did many lyricals.He was Leonard Cohen,we have found to our surprise

The still small choice

Published by Katherine

I like art, poetry,history,

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2023/nov/22/stoicism-book-news-brigid-delaney?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

My hands like knotted twigs on an old tree

Have no beauty that a man can see.

The bones themselves are damaged like soft flesh.

Yet my hands will do the work I wish.

My legs are bowed, my feet have both collapsed.

I have no arches, yes I can adapt.

My spine is fractured, so I’ve lately shrunk.

Yes I still can walk with this old trunk.

My legs made women jealous I recall.

That was long before I had the Fall

But still my mind is active and enjoys

The arts of love, the music when it’s paused.

I still dwell in my body senses five

They tell me that it’s good to be alive