https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m002m00c

Waxy flowers poking through
Snow so white
Flowers so bright.
Made me think of you.

I see once more your just washed hair,
Soft as snow,
On pillow.
Now my bed is bleak and bare

,
Face alight,flower to sun,
I loved you.
Love so true.
Fear by love,overcome.

Cyclamen in the snow,
Pink and red,
Now frozen,dead.
Love was,oh,so long ago.

But never gone from in my mind.
Thoughts so deep,
Upwards seep.
Love was gentle,love was kind,

Always in my mind

Why did Jesus walk on the water?

He never learned to swim

Why did Jesus feed the 5,000?

That was the biggest number they could think of when writing the New Testament

Why did Jesus cross the road?

Because the other side was flatter.

Why do we learn arithmetic in school?

To escape from the quicksands

Why do we have to learn to read in school?

Because it would be boring in school with nothing to do

So you can go on the internet on your phone and get into trouble arguing on political forums.

Who could have been the first person who learned to read?

It must have been the first person who invented writing because until there was writing there couldn’t be any reading

Did Adam and Eve have a library?

Nobody could read what God had written.

Did Cain and Abel go to a comprehensive school?

Well it didn’t teach comprehensive morals did it?

What would God think of  VAT on private school fees?

Jesus didn’t need to go to school.

Why are rich people averse to paying more tax?

Because they don’t want to get through the eye of the needle.

If you are forced to give money to the poor it’s not an act of virtue.

Well it still helps the poor though.

In Finchley there was an old man

Who kept all his eggs in a pan

He said, don’t use a basket

The hens will not trust it

And then all will not go to a plan

Oh dear hen will you lay in a basket?

No sir I will lie in a casket.

Please do not die.

I shall tell you no lies.

You may go to hell, so don’t risk il

2

Children don’t know hens lay eggs

And sausages are made out of pigs.

If folk know too much

Sharp anxiety will clutch

Especially when served with ducks’ legs.

There’s an epidemic of loneliness in western society.

All of our messages emails WhatsApp messages etc etc all verbal all words but  in the end it’s the presence of others that we miss. Someone to be silent with?

When we are alone and lonely we feel that the presence of others will help sometimes however when not fit to be alone with ourselves we are not fit to be in the company of other people either.

This is a dreadful form of loneliness.

Ironically when we’re fit to be with others we are also happy to be alone

But the strange thing is if we talk to someone on the phone it doesn’t help totally because what is missing is the company the presence The silence from words but the presence to the whole person.

This is why I don’t believe that phone counseling will help you as much as being in the presence of the counsellor and the evenim if you don’t talk in your session you still experiencing the company of another person who might be more patient than your family and friends.

Too much talking too many words written or spoken all of these can be damaging.

I don’t agree with banning books but I can see the damage that some books and other forms of writing have done

My sister’s eyes were sea green and deep

Like pools in the Irish sea off the coast off Anglesey.

Moelfre where she swam ,despite the cold,

Like a small seal.Night times I told her stories,

She lay and dreamed them till schooltime

But we grew beyond my storytelling

When adolescence drew us apart.

Years later

As I sat with her child

At my knee,

Weaving stories for her

Around the Russian horse

From the antique shop in Aldeburgh,

I saw my sister leaning towards us,

Her green eyes full of long-lost yearning.

I realised she was still my loving little sister,

From long, so long ago, her green eyes,

In the deep caves of her inner sea ,filled with longing.

I felt she wanted to get back

Into the magic circle

Of the arms of the mother we

No longer had to hold us.

So, I took her inside my heart,

And hold her  there always

Dearest sister how I miss your eyes

Grey green as the sea as up it rides

In the sadness of the water as it sighs

In the squelching of the sand beneath the tide

Sister dearest sister I’m alone

I miss your quiet voice I miss your face

I cannot reach you now by telephone

But loving memories are not erased

Last year you came to visit me at home

You  filled my fridge with food you were so kind

Now I feel the sadness in my bones

I only see you here within my mind.

The inner seas are wild they moan with grief

Time goes slow, we weep, we are bereaved

It was only Mee

You certainly get your wordsworth from my blog.

The beach was way too shelley for me on Saturday.

I hate eyre so much,I never want to see eyre again. Otherwise Jane.

Shakespeares somewhere else please.

I hughes the royal mail sometime.

I spender money often and she is ok with that.

My book is jew to be published in the spring.

I wish the leaves did not russell.

I do like a whitehead of eyre.

She’s too austen-tashius for me.

My baby was over jew but he war fein after birth.

I want a War on peace .

I don’t get the Tolstoy eyrie.

I hope to make a prophet this year or the next..

I don’t noah at all,just crossed plaths with her now and then

I saw him last eve or defoe yesterday

Mary’s eyre’s amazing since it was trimmed.

I want to Reed the reel Hebrew ribald soon.

I wrote my last will in the Old Testament.It’s out of Tate now

I believe in tragic.

It’s a tolstoyrie. What I believe in..

Dostoyevsky………I can’t even spell it.

Tell a lie if you Khan. What about , pilates?

Nobody asked you to Pontius

Sylvia,there was method in her sadness.

My sister went to pilates but she said who is going to Pontius?

I never cared when evelyn swore.

Mantels masterpiece confabulation

https://www.google.com/search?q=butterfly%27s+wing+effect&oq=butterfly%27s+wing+effect&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOTIICAEQABgWGB4yCAgCEAAYFhgeMggIAxAAGBYYHjIICAQQABgWGB4yCAgFEAAYFhgeMggIBhAAGBYYHjIICAcQABgWGB4yCAgIEAAYFhgeMggICRAAGBYYHjIICAoQABgWGB4yCAgLEAAYFhgeMggIDBAAGBYYHjIICA0QABgWGB7SAQg5MzIxajBqN6gCFLACAfEFFl6TiZe73XA&client=ms-android-motorola-rvo3&sourceid=chrome-mobile&ie=UTF-8

Do good and move on (from those who hurt you)

The little  words invented as we loved
Now have no other  speaker but myself.
Lost,unique, the man  whom I once loved,
These humorous  words came from our deep, sweet love.
In my tongue , these words no longer live
I  cannot  use  our words, our loving  wealth.
The chosen  words  invented as we loved
Now have no other   listener but myself

I wish my heart were made of iron or steel

I could be alive but never feel.

Made of glass my heart could crack and break

My tongue would fail my mind make its mistakes

A plastic heart could deal with feelings cheap

But such heart could never hold the deep

Shall I freeze and turn to metal strong

But then I could not love or not for long.

Which is worse to bleed and suffer pain

Or turn to steel and never feel again?

I cannot choose I do not know what’s worst

May our human hearts survive uncursed

Come back to me, my sweetheart
Don’t leave me all alone.
Come back to me, my darling
I can’t believe you’ ve gone.
I’m crying ‘cos I’m feeling blue again.
I’m crying’cos I’m falling like a stone.

Oh, let me tempt you with my beauty
And my voice forever young.
Let me tempt you with my spirit
My laughter and my songs.
I’m crying ‘cos I never did you wrong.
I’m crying ‘cos with you I  still belong.

I thought maybe I’d follow,
To see where you have gone
But there’s a hand upon this tiller
That is not mine alone.
I’m crying ‘cos I wrote this old blue song.
I’m crying ‘cos I’ve been lonely for too long.

The hand upon my tiller
The mystery of the dark
The unknown one who lives in me
And sings like a skylark.
I’m singing ‘cos I wrote you a new song.
I’m singing ‘cos the cat ain’t got my tongue.

The dentist wants to charge in advance in case I die in the chair

Surely it’s not electric.

Not the first time apparently.

Is it not murder?

I don’t know I’ve never been murdered.

Have you ever commited suicide?

Why, have you?

I have not.

I am thrilled

I didn’t know you cared.

I am shy

That’s one way of describing it

What do you mean?

Some of us thought you were conceited.

About what?

I can’t recall.

Are you demented?

Just argumentative.

I hope you are soon at peace.

Is it far away?

No it’s here if we are.

I feel you’re right.

You can feel me all over.

Are you a rash?

No, an allergy.

I don’t like Greece.

I saw you frying bread.

But not licking the pan.

I lick the pen

When the voices demand

Stop listening.

Alright

What ?

They are like some other beings altogether the cry more animal than human The wordless pathos, musical,disturbing They have gone back to a troubled and unimagined infancy but no mother responds to such a nightmare of overgrown voice boxes the cry of a rabbit wolf in a trap it’s the shriek in the wall cry of a baby in a psychotic nightmare. Nicholas haunts Sylvia in the evocative memory of Ariel And so it will end for you and me Trapped in this old body with its old brain on and on they cry help me, help me,help me nurse nurse I want the manager I want the manager I don’t want to be here I don’t want to be here I want to go home Help me we don’t listen because they have dementia what they say has no meaning. that’s our defence I am the norm You are abnormal but you smiled when I asked you if you would like your hair dyed pink and I know you love the music therapist. Your smell repels Alas Is this where Jesus dwells If you did this to the least of my little ones, you did it to me. We you haven’t forgotten about Eros you are still hoping to find love you are not dead yet but you can’ wait to go home Published by Katherine

age grief love Poem

Comments

Its horizontal fur like wire

The black cat runs, climbs fences

Dances on the roof of the shed

Hides in the forsythia branches, like a demented child

My hair cut that way I could pass for 23.

The cat runs up the seesaw, its teeth gleaming like an advert for Colgates’

Back up the seesaw, the little devil flashes green eyes like old marbles iced with frost

Now he wants some money he says.

He’s just a stand-up comedian nowadays.

Are you allowed to have four legs?

I don’t know what God would think

But does he even think?

The black cat laughs and I say would you like to borrow my hair dryer for a blow dry.

But you can’t blow dry wire!

I was diagnosed with this a few years ago and I have to take folic acid

As we get older it’s a good idea to have blood tests to see if we have any kind of anaemia or shortage of vitamin d or iron etc because it’s all too easy to label people as demented sometimes even fear can make someone appear to be demented as I saw with my husband when he had an accident

Today I’m  grieving feeling sad and lonely

Like the saviour said I’m feeling blue

Today I’m feeling nearly black and homeless

Every day I’m missing missing you

Everyday I think about your laughter

Everyday I think about your joy

I remember how you loved your little boys

You said my poems had got even dafter

Everyday I think about your garden

Everyday I miss your homely voice

I hope my tender heart will never harden

That is down to me and my own choice.

Everywhere I look I see your image 

My tears fall on the flowers like  gentle rain.

The world you loved so well may pay you homage

Love is wiser, greater than our pain

Just after you died I bought a new chair

I

Now it’s old, the armrest is worn .

I have sat on this chair for 10 years

But you have never come back

I have never watched the television again.

If the chair is worn, then how must I look?

I suppose joints of the chairs or id humans can wear out

It’s easy to buy a new chair if you have some money

Not so easy to buy a new joint for your knee or your shoulder.

Ask for the organs you can have a new kidney even the lung now .

Even the heart can be transplanted if it’s a good one.

We didn’t have a piano and now I regret it

Should I learn to play the recorder instead?.

Maybe a violin would make my neighbours realize I’m still alive.

That’s my ambition to get them to complain about something that I do like playing the violin upside down on the ceiling looking down upon them mournful and humorous

They have a large ginger cat but I don’t know its name I call it Ginger

Ginger does not respond to my voice but maybe a violin would help.     what do you think?

https://www.theguardian.com/books/series/poemoftheweek

https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/poems/frozen-in/

Oh holy light that held me in your gaze

That spoke to me in words without a sound

A holy light, a person hidden away

I did not seek and yet I have been found.

When I was trapped alone with my  numbed heart

When nobody could touch me with their hand

When in bleak despair I sat apart

By your holy light I have been found.

Although you did not speak I heard your words

I heard them all and yet there was no noise

How did you convey them so I heard?

The senses were conjoined, became one voice

I thought I was near death and yet I lived

Despair is long yet graceful are its gifts.

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/health/nhs-cancer-diagnosis-gps-illness-b2856125.html

Trial by life has an unbearable twist
Sad days of darkness must come to an end
Trial by life’s an endurable test

Send for the minister,send for the priest.
With her long pointed nails ,she has her garments all rent.
This trial by life’s unendurable tryst

The priest is no longer either sacred or blessed.
The succession has faltered with bitter dissent
Trial by life’s an endurable test

The people must now to each other confess.
The Tabernacle’s empty ,for who paid the rent?
Trial of life, who can endure such a tryst?

We need to look into our own hearts that cursed.
We need to take shelter,though torn is the Tent
Trial by life’s an endurable test.

Who gives the verdict,which judge is not bent?
Who can decide whether we should assent?
Trial by life:what a blow ,what a fist.
Trial by life: the unbearable last

When first I saw your soulful face,
I wished to dwell in your embrace.
I wished as well to clothe you in
The sacred images within.

To find a home for love without;
To fold my dreams all round about;
Your loving body and your face
Were covered in such joy and grace.

I found my dreams were cast aside;
The world of meaning denied life.
What seemed most precious now is fled
As I lie sleepless in my bed.

What is the world when unadorned
With all that in my heart I’ve formed?
There is no meaning I can trace.
As in a mother’s empty face.

On these grey rocks. my path is hard.
From paradise, my self is barred.
To struggle or to grief succumb,
When this dark day of mourning’s done?

Into His dazzling darkness dart
My dreams and love like dying sparks.
Into His Mystery so fair.
I’ll cast both hope and my despair.

Thus my dreams will be transformed
To show themselves in other forms.
What feels a loss may foretell growth.
On my hope,I’ll take an oath:

“That nothing in my life is waste;
That I have not for phantasms chased.
And you are human,as am I.
Let’s live again until we die”