Day: Apr 24, 2026

When we are the warp without the weft

Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft
Rain and shadowed clouds would suit our mood
When we are the warp without the weft

As if we are the pen and no ink’s left
As if we hunger yet there is no food
Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft

Our mind slows down and all we do is drift
Evil thoughts into the soul intrude
Like we are the warp without the weft

Let the eye and all its muscles rest
With wider focus we may cease to brood
Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft

Do not try with will power nor it test
Relaxation brings back knowledge of the good
We take it in like babies at the breast

We must not test the will but let it go
Trust the ocean and eternal flow
Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft
Sometimes sunshine brings its golden gifts

Can the war be won?

Trump will win the war, he’s very sure.

He’s got the biggest bombers ever seen

For everything that’s wrong, a bomb’s the cure

Trump will win the war he’s very sure.

And of Iranian people, there’ll be fewer.

Fire the bullets now, death is the cure

Bomb their whole world flat while babies scream

Trump will win the war, he’s very clear.

See him grinning now  on all your screens.

Poetry and logic

Photo0027
Town centre 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57615/logic-56d23b4c891a9

 

Logic

It was a poem
men took because it said ovary
didn’t take my
political poems
they took the one that said ovary
Are you sure it was because it
           said ovary?
Yes, for them that’s logical.
—————————
Destroy another
          city
What
else
is war for? So
you’ll go down
each of you does. dies in
                           whirlwind
each of you who does, dies
          paying
for the pain you experience
         Just that
and nothing is established
Because I am a woman
Cutting as many cords
as tie you to me. this isn’t
           anarchy
it isn’t anything you
           could name
You’re still here
without ties?
because they were logical.
—————————
Dance little asshole dance
oh he gets elected, like a Calvinist
He says, I have these guts
Men, I have these guts.
—————————
Having dedicated whole
regions to the destruction
          you inspire, the
logic will be to go on doing it
doing it. Having proceeded by
the logic
         of your per-
sonal vaccuum
you will perceive your continued
          lightlessness
as an excuse to go on. having
gone on
as you have. And so one continues.
—————————–
Lead the boy out of
          the building on fire
his head twisted
          upwards
all fucked
What else is there to
       know if
one has gotten
twisted up
all fucked
he is a screaming fire
—————————–
In the explanations
of our lives’ experience
they’ve left out this wild moment
the long mirror on the right-hand wall of the
corridor suddenly shattered
I can’t see myself anymore.
—————————–
I repeat that I am not frightened
          and why not
I don’t know
what my reactions
are supposed to be.
—————————–
        “Please tell me something
with which I’m familiar.”
isn’t there another part of now
Alice Notley, “Logic” from Songs and Stories of the Ghouls. Copyright © 2011 by Alice Notley.  Reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press.
Source: Songs and Stories of the Ghouls (Wesleyan University Press, 2011)
  • Related

By the river

Scattered pools of rainwater gleam on the dark paving stones

The road disappears under an arch

A family approach smiling : conversation occurs

The dog jumps with delight

By the river, a cat hides looking for water rats on the bank

The terraced houses by the water look contented and prosperous

The third one has new curtains.

A man walks by seeming nervous, nothing to do on Sunday.

Turning the other way I see the huge tree by the large end house

Then a sharp turn on to the bridge

Small bridges here remind me of Thames bridges

These are secret hidden and beautiful like little treasures.

Here comes someone on a bicycle better step back.

Now we walk towards the pub with another bridge in front

But I forgot, you are not here. The last time I drank grapefruit juice.

I have not had any since then.

Last night I dreamed I was in the garden with a big hedge on my right

The shrubs were leafless and as I pressed my ear against them I could hear laughter and I knew that it was you.

The secret garden that we never enter

Then you cried hello hello. You sounded merry

That was a small heaven

And always the river flows down the contour lines as it was designed.

And the people change but everything is still the same