• I saw you on the pavement
  with your old brown dog
  You were shabby,poor,ragged,
  Sat on your tartan rug.
  You had water for the dog,
  You hugged him and you sang,
  But the people walked on by,
  And no-one looked at you.
  No-one looked at you.
• But you still sang your song.
  And you sent me so much love
  It crossed from eye to eye.
  I felt it coming in.
• 
  I heard that you had died,
  Though you were only thirty three.
  Only thirty three.I wonder,where’s your dog?
• I felt our souls had touched,
  You gave to me so much
  As I wandered in my grief
  Through the roads and round the streets.
  In your glance, you touched my heart.
  I felt love swimming through,
  From you right into me
• .Will you come again?
  I see all these dim, grey men
  Who cut your benefits
  To give more wealth to few;
  So that the needle’s eye,
  which is waiting when we die,
  is forgotten, for they want
  protection for their wealth.
• I wish that beggar man
  would come back here again.
  I liked to hear his songs
  But I can’t recall the tunes;
  Maybe I’ll write songs myself,
  That’s the highest sort of wealth
  Our creativity
  Is a path to dignity.Come back every one!
  I wish you had not gone.
  come back in my dreams
  and give me some new themes.
  I’m singing like you sung.
  it’s this world that’s so wrong.
  come back beggar man,
  I knew you were the one.

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/dec/06/adhd-diagnosis-society-human-development?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

 

She gave him an impersonal smile. It was cheaper just to have one smile that she gave to everybody rather than having to individualize them. Spontaneity was not known to her at least consciously.

She gave him a dutiful kiss. He said he’d rather have the money next time.

Her eyes were shifty  and sharp, like blunted  vegetable knives mixed up in the drawer.

My brain is like a plastic colander when someone’s poured boiling water through it.

She looked after the children with dull emotion. That reminded me I need to polish the silver tonight.

Her smile had little energy. The message was plain. No sex ever again.

Her eyes could speak but they had a very  small vocabulary.

The doctor took total responsibility like a zoo keeper would for a small  sick monkey.

The nurse didn’t know what a hospital corner was. Maybe they don’t have any in that hospital?

His handwriting was perfect in form yet had  no originality. That is a very difficult thing to achieve for a human being.

Her eyes were smiling but she bit her lips tastelessly. I asked her if she would like some HP sauce but she said it was not feminine enough.

I was full of chagrin when I saw the doctor photograph me naked. I said, couldn’t you at least give me a hospital gown? Mysteriously they are all in the corridor he told me politely with no expression whatsoever in his voice except contempt.

She asked me why I had three colanders in the kitchen.So I asked her, should I keep them in the bedroom? They are no good as chamber pots. She said I just wondered why you had three. So I told her to think animal vegetable and mineral

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/dec/05/the-best-poetry-books-of-2025?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

“With regard to the sharpest and most melting sorrow, that which arises from the loss of those whom we have loved with tenderness, it may be observed, that friendship between mortals can be contracted on no other terms than that one must some time mourn for the other’s death: and this grief will always yield to the survivor one consolation proportionate to his affliction; for the pain, whatever it be, that he himself feels, his friend has escaped.” – Dr Samuel Johnson

How alien this world seems without your face

Strangers populating every place

How do long-term prisoners survive?

How do they keep their heart and spirit live?

When what was once familiar disappears

The heart is struck by cold and dreadful. fear

My heart has wavered looking for the known

To meet a friend in person, not by phone

To see a human face the eyes  the smile

This would help me when I’m feeling frail.

My psycho social needs unsatisfied

Without your love  I feel  I’ve  nearly died

Could I love another in that way?

All the lost can do is kneel and pray.

I don’t think dating apps would be my friend.

Acquainted  with this grief, my tears descend m

And yet there’s always hope, black humour too.

Without  our humorous self what would we do?

For humour gives perspective, changes minds

And from our soul within, the new is mined

An image or a sound says more than words

Life is humorous, sad and quite absurd

Words float like water in a stream,
Reflected gently by sunbeams.
This stream flows swiftly to my heart
And through these words your love is caught.

The space inside my heart is clear,
Your love will find its right home here.
Your words are treasures in my night,
And in the dark, they glow with light.

Oh,let me read your notes of bliss,
And seal them with a loving kiss.
I hope this stream will always go
Where living waters softly flow.

For love is kind, and love is true.
Connections form from me to you.
And love creates an open heart,
From which all other feelings start.

Yet love is free, and does not bind.
Love is glad,and not unkind.
So if my love displeases you,
Then you can find a lover new.

I have life inside my heart
Which will sustain me if we part.
I wish you much great happiness…
And know my grief will one day pass.

But for today,let’s laugh and play.
Let’s make love inside the hay.
It’s summer and we like the heat.
Let’s celebrate with kisses sweet.

You are smiling on the pier above the sands

The rippling waves stretchef out like children’s hands

You look so strong I cannot comprehend

Your fatal illness and its grievous end

You were never  patient on dry land

You were living well and  feeling grand

We crossed the road ; I held your cold thin hand

  I suffered so much torment,would I mend?

I saw a fluid shape as dark it pranced

Through the open door it swiftly danced

With the  well known wiles of Tudor kings

Hoping they can make it on the wing

I learned with grief , it came to take you back.

Across the river wide ,my love, my lack.

In the pain of this raw grief  I dwell.

Is this the woe of heaven, the joy of hell?

The sun may shine, yet I am cold and still

Oh God relieve me, take me when you will

I loved my sister more than I had known

Now she’s gone and my heart is a stone

As if I rose one day to find no sun.

The darkness of the heart has just begun.

I breathe I eat, I lie down in my bed.

If I should stop what should I do instead?

Without that strength beside me I feel weak.

I look about and all the world seems bleak.

The joy I saw in every little thing

This joy has gone, and what have I to bring?

I gaze out through my eyes the world is here

Can my response be richer than a tear?

Thirty tears of silver would I give

To cheat your death and buy your right to live

I am your Judas I betrayed your love

Forgive me for my sin, below above.

I cannot dwell in heaven now you are dead

Nor can I go to hell to burn instead

In purgatory will I dwell in time

Forgive me for my errors and my rhymes

  WecEnglish have to be careful in discussion with people who speak English but live in other countries like New Zealand.South Africa and of course, Canada, home of Leonard Cohen However much we learn, if we don’t live in England we probably do not understand the idioms and I expect in politics and business it could cause great problems If Boris Johnson says he is going to spill the beans tonight, will anyone from other countries like France know what he means.Because I assume they speak English at NATO events Stone the crows. here is Boris striking while the iron is hot and spilling the beans and his seeds all over the area. Oh, my sainted aunt,I can’t escape agoraphobia, Seen a shrink? There’s sink in the toilet But will it flush away? Now be serious.I mean the room What ,where the Inn keeper would not let Mary and Joseph stay? They had no bathrooms then Mine is the cat’s pyjamas Should it be “are”? Grammar is obsolete. It sounds extremely rude.I must be mixing my words You sound like an artist Well,paint while the iron is hot! But you don’t paint with an iron,do you? No, but I can scorch the paper I’d love to scorch the Mail on Sunday Don’t waste your time I didn’t know I had any. Well, keep still.Don’t move Why, is Trump passing? Passing wind maybe Is he a sheep in wolf’s clothing? He’d be a ram, he would believe in God The wolf is only artificial Is it imaginary like a complex number Not that kind of imaginary Do tell Who? The cat’s out of the bag Emile! Yes, mother? Hide! But where? Under a hat I got the hat trick once.I took it off Now keep mum and watch what I do. I want dad Me too Don’t ask for the moon So is he there? Be quiet Michael Gove wants to squeak Where is Rees’ Mogg? Mating with yours This is the absolute end Well, nearly Not angles and not angels. You are around the end

https://wp.me/p3Pz3V-D5

Of mother and my sisters, I’m bereft.

Of the four a single one is left

Yet would we like to be a rock or stone?

Unmoved by feelings, heavy,dark, alone?

Though my sisters died, I feel them still.

The connections to my heart negate my will

Yet if my heart were made of metal cold

I would feel no joy though I were bold

The roots of love leave holes when loved ones die

The roots are torn out wildly, love goodbye

I miss my mother and my sisters two

Without such old companions what to do?

Words make cliches, die  when overused

My heart   still aches, for I have lost my muse

Words like weapons wound us when they show

Nothing lasts, the every loss a blow.

Should we be grateful though we are in pain?

Every loss we feel was once a gain

We

https://wp.me/p59Hmp-29s

One week before he died my husband said to me,

I am very angry with you. Because you are more intelligent than I am.

So I said, it’s taken  you 45 years to work that out?

So he said, well I just needed your salary, you see.

So I said, it’s mutual.

He said he was angry because he was dying or was it he was dying because he was angry?

Of course I didn’t know that he only had one week to live. He didn’t know either.

See nobody knows exactly when they’re going to die and that in itself could make you very angry

And then when you realise it’s too late to do anything except die.

He said, you are very beautiful and I said,  I’m glad there’s something about me that you like the thing is I’m still very intelligent but I’m no longer beautiful except to someone who loves me

The most important thing is that intelligence is not the most important thing in life. But looking at certain people in the public eye we realize a modicun of intelligence is essential

We never really know another person no matter how long we live with them with at least we can be kind to one another. For some of the time anyway.

That’s being intelligent

Stan managed to drive from the Wash to Knittingham without accident.Satan was asleep in the bottom of the mirror only wakening when they stopped for a cup of tea in a Restaurant.
But how can Satan drink his tea?
Stan  persuaded Satan that  if he wore Stan’s hat and coat nobody would know he was  not human.After all, many real humans  don’t look human.So Satan went into the Little Chef for his first experience of human life.They all sat down and ordered tea and pancakes with jam and golden syrup.
Woww,said Satan.I might consider apologising to  the Lord if I can eat this every day
Emile looked puzzled:
An apology is not genuine if  it is done for gain, he mewed.
Gosh,where did you get such a clever cat,  Satan asked Stan?
He just turned up looking wet and hungry a few years ago.Then I taught him at home how to speak properly and the basics of ethics but he seemed to know more than I could explain
Both the men stared at Emile as he lapped up the tea from a  white china saucer.I wonder who he really is, they both murmured in a hushed tone.
I have taught him  to swim in our bath and  sometimes he comes for a ride in my bike basket.Once he fell out yet managed to lure a beautiful lady to bring him home as he is tired of my mistress Annie and fancied someone who didn’t wear crimson and magenta together  nor such extraordinary makeup from Lemmings of Wigan and Warrington.
I’ve never heard of them said Satan wonderingly.I didn’t know women actually bought “makeup.”I thought when girls matured their faces went like that naturally/
That’s a bit stupid, said Stan bluntly.But never mind.Let’s carry on  or Mary will worry
Satan decided he would sit with Emile  and stay out of the mirror.He was beginning to look like a human being albeit a rather ugly one
And so say all of us

Satan  had been,  for  an hour or two ,inside a solid gold powder compact which  a delightful old lady called Dora had been given by her husband Alf.Alas when Dora saw Satan in her mirror she was not amused.

Luckily for Satan the  mirror broke and he was able to escape into the North Sea.
Since Stan and Emile were going home he decided to swim to the Wash and see if he could catch up with them.,(He is well up in geography unlike the author)
Being in the sea was very different from being in the Fires of Hell.Both have their downsides.Still we all have to conpromise  now and then.

But why did God let Satan get out of the mirror?
Alf and Dora stuffed with hot tea and  buttery muffins were paddling back to the car park in Cromer where their silver car was waiting
Why is there so much water on the road,Dora asked her amiable husband.
It’s not  been raining, has it?
Well. I saw some canoes sailing down the promenade.What has happened?
Cromer is a very strange place at the extreme  east end of the Norfolk coast.One moment you are facing North, the next East.This is where houses fall into the sea.Officially it is subsidence but the truth is, it’s the place where demons come onto the Earth and cause devastation with their fiery clothes and weapons.
And here they come, looking for Satan, their master whom God has taken away from his hot home with no running cold  water.
As Dora got out of the car, she saw her shoes were full of water.Why even the car was flooded despite  being in a high level car park
Don’t buy anything from a stranger on the beach again, she begged Alf.
We don’t know what we are unleashing.I wish we had gone on the cliffs to Weybourne rather than that old pier
Well,I had no idea such a delightful old man  might be in league with the Devil.Though when we see what is happening in  the  world it seems evil is much more sophisticated than  it was when  Fire and Brimstone were the punishment for murdering your wife with wilful intent.

Maybe Satan  was not so evil, just too proud to apologise.
The Mayor of Cromer was on the pier looking at the cracks in the concrete,
Has a bomb gone off, she cried?
Well, not exactly……  there’s a funny story about that Satan has been calling on us and someone tried to drown him,
Who could drown Satan? He is not human.He has no lungs.
My goodness, how intelligent the people of Cromer seem to be.Maybe we should  get them to run the whole country!
Stan and Emile were standing by the Ouse Crossing watching the  swans and sea birds when suddenly Satan  emerged from the swollen water
How did you  get here,Stan enquired tactlessly?  I thought we had seen the last of you.
Satan  looked very upset.
Help me, let me get into the mirror.My servants are looking for me but I don’t want to go with them.I am fed  up with Hell and sin and evil
Emile had a bright idea,
Look there are mirrors on the car.
Stan was not eager to let Satan  hide there but the wicked creature leapt in and cried with relief after taking a nice white hanky out of his hat
I  never thought Satan would weep,Stan murmured unkindly.
God has almost gone and  the order of the  Western world is collapsing.Everything is upside down.
Emile ran into the car and nuzzled against Stan’s old tweed jacket.
I’m frightened,dad, he muttered sheepishly.
So am I said Stan as he looked into the mirror before backing out and hitting an invisible stone wall which had not been there moments ago.
Now,Satan, step to one side  or we will never get home to Knittingham if the mirror is not freed
Satan obeyed,He has fallen in love with Stan and Emile.He wants to live in this quiet city forever.But what will Mary say if Stan tells her Satan is  on her dressing table in the mirror?
Will Stan be sent to see a psychiatrist? Will he be diagnosed with paranoid dementia  and double pneumonia of the mind?
Or will he manage to get Mary to see things his way? Will she see Satan when Stan is out?
We will wait and see

When he went away
He said,”Lehitraot,mama.”
Do vstrechi.
He died, but I’m still here
Yes,in my heart I feel his love.
But why did I live,
And he did not?
Auf wiedersehen
Lehitraot.
Yes,darling,I’ll see you later
,When the sky turns black and all the stars blaze bright
I’ll see you shining in the night.
I’ll see you in my dreams alas.
Do vstrechi.
But why you and not me too?
Araka
I can’t understand
.Lehitraot,beloved.
A plus tard
Some where in this world,you fell
But no-one,not even God, can tell.
God was absent then or in some other place
He’s gone again
.They said He’s died too
,But He didn’t have a mother like you.
Do vstrechi.
My breasts ache and my heart and soul,
My breasts were made to make you whole.
To feed, give love and to console.
A plus tard
And now they ache with grief as my tears fall
.A bientot
My body trembles in the night
As dreams may bring my lost ones to my sight.
A plus
I’d walk across the roughest bleak terrain
If l I could find my loves and hold your hands again.
Do vstrechi
.The bell rings on the ancient clock
As time goes on as normal,  never stops.
Araka
I wish the hands of time could be reversed,
And I was not living with this curse.
People forget that I once had a son.
They think my grieving has been done.
Araka.But grief and loss and pain will never end
Until the curtain of my death descends
Auf wiedersehen.
Meantime I look at flowers and birds and trees
,But it’s really you my deepening insight sees.
Lehitraot.
The inscape of my heart is shown to few.
An artist of the lost would know this view.
I know I want to see just you.
Do vstrechi.
But for me there is no Auf wiedersehen
Never again will you say
What you said that day
Lehitraot,Mama.Papa
A plus tard
Tot ziens.
See you later
See you ,darling
See you soon

How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose
Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.
For their intricate petals form a shield
Yet bees with striped force shall make them yield.
Appearances,both natural and contrived,
Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive.
As knowing not, we pluck the apple rare
And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare.
We too deceive the innocent who pass
Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass.
The windows break,the deep earth quakes;
Seized is the maiden ,he her virtue takes.
Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive.
What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives

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

Highly defective people. How to be a winner anyway

The highly sensitive merman

6 ways out of claustrophobia. (+Try the exit first)

Repression: the way out of your schism.

The naked person’s guide to shyness/politeness/dryness.

Heal your soles and other useful prayers

The wryly tentative person-

The advent  of hell on earth and other short stories

The highly inimical person

How to change your blame.

God be grateful to me, a winner. The new guide to prayer for narcissists.

https://www.rte.ie/culture/2025/1202/1546857-poet-tom-paulin-wins-2025-pen-heaney-prize/

Looking out across the River Lee

I could not see a place where you might be.

Tower blocks high and low stung both my eyes.

What use are sisters when they seem to die?

I could not see the road to take me home

I closed my lips so none might hear me moan

From another window I looked out

I saw a busy road and heard men shout.

The world was empty to my starving eye.

I saw the ice cream clouds as they went by.

The world I once could see was gone,was bare

I could not see your face,not anywhere.

How could you leave me in this desert harsh ?

The river Lea polluted stinks the marsh

There was no place where little birds could rest.

These feelings were a stone inside my chest.

I feel the grief without that blight despair.

And yet to others everything is fair

Near the Chiltern hills the River Lea

Dances like a lamb in spring,in glee

The water’s pure and sweet like wine, like sun

But all is changing as the river runs.

Industrial use and boats pollute the stream

The dirty water does not mirror dreams

At Hoddesden the mill destroys the scene

There are no Argonauts, no golden fleece.

At ancient Waltham  where the river  slows

I see the ruined monks,where did they go?

King Henry wanted money,wanted all

Soon  so soon,his dynasty would fall.

Then soon the Lea will meet the mother Thames

They run into the sea, the rivers end.

Is this the mystic love that some would like?

In the darkest shadow, hides the light.

When its moment comes the golden gleam

Returns our minds to nature and it’s schemes

The River Lea is merry near the source

At the end, near  human with remorse

It’s easy to be happy when all’s well

But when we are more troubled, who can tell? 

Should we envy grass which floats along?

Should we envy sparrows for their song,?

At least we can reflect then we create

Cheerful  through this world to navigate

The river Lea gets dirty and dismayed

When it gets near London its joy fades

It’s used for power and industry and toil

And so its natural charm has been destroyed

Yet  in the  war we needed all its wealth.

Radar was invented here by stealth

Now that’s all long ago but yet we see

The River Lee still crawls towards the sea

And so in human life it is the same.

Human life well lived may make us  lame

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