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 noAuf 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
The ritual is to put the garbage out My day begins the night before it’s due When I recall the day, I have to count Instead of Mass, we put the garbage out No Confession so no sin,no horrid doubt No neighbours and no prayer,no ancient pew The only ritual left, toss garbage out My mind begins to think about the clue
My brain has turned to liquid and it’s dripping from my ears I need some kind of tampon to absorb this sudden rush Why did noone tell me this is frightful to endure? My brain has turned to liquid and it’s dripping from my ears I think it’s far too late to expect a total cure I’ll never hear the little voice nor see the burning bush My brain has turned to liquid and it’s dripping from my ears Where’s an alcoholic then, to drink the mighty rush
Elena,a baby wrapped in woollen clothes. On the last train,Warsaw to Moscow, [ change Niegoreloje.] 1939.Father,mother,brother You passed through the Arctic Wastes of life. Still as if travelling on a train To an impossibly far destination. As you left the German Army crashed into Warsaw Lost,your aunts Your cousins. Your culture. How does God select the damned? You had your own baby,here in England, Not lost like all those others. Your father died by his own hand, The hand of history; The fingers twitching, Not sure where to point. Then settling into frozen grief A sculpture only your mother saw. You saw too,Elena. You always saw,though you can’t remember; The long journey, your mother’s breast, Your father’s silence. Only the dead know that silence. Only the dead weep With the rocks and stones . And the ice in each eye Fell like snow down your cheeks As you held your own infant. Warsaw to Moscow, Moscow to Jerusalem. Always journeying Looking for what they can never find: The home they left behind The presence of the dead Lying in gaunt heaps Like rubbish Your aunts, Elena. Your cousins. You never knew them. But there’s a hole in your mind Through which the Polish wind forever blow
The bricks of the old wall, while crumbling, live Five hundred years of history passed them by While plants grew in the cracks below, above Apart from people, this is what I love That ancient structures stand and do not die The bricks of this old wall while crumbling live A little beauty will do well enough This cheers my heart and lifts my spirits high Wild flowers grow in cracks below, above We fill our minds and homes with shop bought stuff Gaze on bricks and cracks, what will we spy? The bricks of this old wall while crumbling live Like old complexions, older bricks are rough The Vicar cannot smooth them though they try Holes for plants inscribe these cracks with love From generations past, ghosts wander. shy. Looking for their graves, they whisper,sighT he bricks of the old wall still crumbling live Tenacious weeds shall wave below, aboveShare
A is for the axioms we use B for Brownian motion in a glass C is for the circle that found pi D is for the dots that we combine E is the ellipse that I adore F is for the fraction I deplore G is for geometry and art H is for the hidden and unknown I was once for inkwells filled each day J is a close relation here of G K is my own name, I do declare L is for the loops that string can make M is mathematics as an art N is for the numbers that transcend O might be for zero or the mind P is for the problems we all meet Q is for the quantity of life R is for the random numbers here S must be statistics, I declare, T is for topology, that’s clear U is understanding what we read V is for the vacuum in the heart~ W is the will power to succeed X is still unknown but we’ll give in Y is Yes we understand the game Z I’ll leave to you to make or maim
The way to be successful is now clear Deny your shame,humiliate the poor Have no friends or mate whom you hold dear The way to be successful is right here Control your cronies with a hint of fear Tread on the lowly, who can but endure The way to be successful, shed no tears Repress your shame,humiliate the poor
Accidentally tread on someone’s face As you run for president again Make sure their features are unclear,erased Knowingly tread on the human face It’s not evil, it is just bad taste The devil is a clown, we feel no strain Incidentally tread on someone’s face As you run for president again
Axes are useful, real and imaginary.Does our earth have them? Borrow one in sums.Not nice.Arithmetic sucks Calculus is based on non-understanding of first principles which may not be understandable like certain j Drawing graphs is an art and a science. Euclid has frightened some and delighted others.And a right angle to you as well. Flatland is a book set in an imaginary two-dimensional world.Fractions frighten Geometry gave way to algebra.Godel studied axiomatic systems. God was a Word not a number……. think about it. Hard as maths is, there is a non-sensual beauty in there somewhere It takes your mind off the pain when you try to visualise 4 dimensions.Be aware some never return. Jokes are not often found in our textbooks except the biggest.. that God likes jigsaws, geometry and juggling. Kurt Godel went mad.He proved maths cannot have a complete set of axioms with no contradictions.So don’t go there Logic is not identical with mathematics. Multiplication tables were sung by children at school in the past.Matrices are rows and columns of numbers. Number theory is harder than one would imagine from counting one’s digits. Operators are imaginary concepts which have an effect on other imaginary concepts which then contribute to nuclear physics, and a few other things like the end of the world. Probability seems to be part of the nature of the world despite Einstein’s famous words. God does not play dice. Quantitative methods were what they called maths to stop the anxiety students felt.But it’s a bad name. Reason is only part of mathematics Straight lines can meet. Theorems can be interesting if you know why you are learning them Why? Why indeed.Wranglers are top mathematics students at Cambridge. X or x is often the unknown we look for. Y is like X just by historical usage Zero as a concept with a sign is more abstract than One.Hence its late arrival on the human scene. Nothing can be symbolised. Ain’t that wonderfulStraight lines can meet.Straight lines can meet.Straight lines can meet.
Every poem begins with a first line After that we choose the space and time The words float in my head till they combine Must a poem begin with its first line? Some are bold and some are more refined Some are free and some have lissom rhymes A poem begins by finding a first line After that we search the Deep Words Mine
Daniel Spinnett was a newly homeless man in a horrible wealthy but cruel country called the Reblighted Kingdom.He had been married once but his wife often used to hurl his hot dinner at him if he was a bit late home and she also had four lovers into the bargain.When she was made Head of Uncivil Service UK he decided he was leaving her and hoped for a second chance and maybe a child as well with a gentler woman At first he was truly happy in his new commodious flat and also with meeting women on the Guardian Solemates website; all too soon his firm was affected by the recession and he ended up with no money to pay his rent ; his ex-wife was completely unsympathetic. though she was absolutely rolling in money and men or both ! He went to the Council to seek for cheap accommodation I have nowhere to live.The rents in Lone-don are so high.. can I get a council flat?I am on job seekers allowance of £70 per week… A council flat?The man behind the desk laughed sarcastically like a dying flea. There ain’t no such anymore,mi duck…didn’t you know the Trying Lady sold them off. Did you not build more using that money,he enquired courteously and logically. as was his wont Sorry,chum, we spent it on wine, women and bling… gold watches, golf clubs, moats, you know Daniel felt very upset so he set out to walk to Lightwebbs Forest a couple of miles away for a time of green beauty and quietness…He fell asleep under an old oak ; he was nervously exhausted ,no doubt When he woke up a huge cat was standing near him staring curiously Hello, the cat said in a kindly but loud voice Hello,I am Daniel from down the road Well, the cat said,I’m a lion from the circus.We have escaped and we are living here in the woods. But what do you eat? asked Dan. Well,we forage around and we find food left out for house cats.;we also have learned to cook leaves and grass over a fire in a double boiler. The lion smiled down at Daniel showing a light in his amber eyes You look very thin.Why don’t you come with me to have dinner? Daniel was afraid of the lion but he had no alternative in mind. After a circuitous walk they reached the deepest,densest most magical part of the wood.There were four lions,two tigers and four leopards all looking happy Is this our dinner,they cried excitedly as they gazed at Daniel. No,this is a poor starving man with no home. Well.lie down Dan and eat this leafy risotto.. Absolutely delicious,awesome, he cried greedily as he used his hands like a child with no table manners Then the first lion asked Dan to come with him to his own den. When they got there he said piteously I have got a problem and none of the animals here can help.I have got a piece of barbed wire stuck in my tail and I need a human with fingers to untangle it.. Daniel looked and there was about 12 inches of barbed wire which hit and beat the old lion as he walked or ran.Dan managed to untwist it and uuntangle it.He got some water from the stream and washed the lion’s backside where the barbs had cut into him..I have no Elastoplast, he muttered anxiously.The fresh air will heal it, said the lion gently….
And that was how Daniel came to be living in the lion’s den. He says he prefers it to living with his dominating wife. He certainly looks fitter than before and is considering asking for surgery to change into a lion on the NHS as there is a lady lion whom he has fallen in love with.No doubt lions don’t get married in church but they do love each other very deeply. Just go to the forest and take a look next time you fall asleep. Now the lions enjoy even better food because Daniel has recipe books and unlike the lions,he can read.They found some old sauce pans at the recycling centre so he can do cheese sauce using milk from the sheep on the edge of the wood, If you knew what went on in our many woods,you’d definitely get a big surprise..I can tell you
The relativization of all moral norms, the crisis of authority, the reduction of life to the pursuit of immediate material gain without regard for its general consequences—the very things Western democracy is most criticized for–do not originate in democracy but in that which modern man has lost: his transcendental anchor, and along with it the only genuine source of his responsibility and self-respect . . . . Given its fatal incorrigibility, humanity probably will have to go through many more Rwandas and Chernobyls before it understands how unbelievably shortsighted a human being can be who has forgotten that he is not God.
Stan awoke feeling very thirsty.My, this bed is much too hard,he thought.He put out his hand and felt some wood not far away.It was his desk. Emile was lying on his stomach purring. You fell out of bed,the little cat miaowed.Luckily I clung on with my claws and I am ok sleeping down here….I can see any mice better. Well,it’s not ok with me,Stan informed him gently.How can I get up from here? He picked up the Cambridge Companion to Sylvia’ Plath and banged on his desk softly. Mary was awake and heard a strange sound.She got up and found Stan lying on the floor with his head by his desk. Emile wanted to sleep by the wall,you see.,he told her. Then he rolled over and I fell out. That is logically and scientifically unsensible,Mary told him. Surely Emile is not so big that his weight was enough to knock you out of the bed?It is against the law of gravityAnyway,why don’t you get up? I like it down here,the old man lied to her. OK Mary said,then she picked up the phone and rang 999. Hello,she said.My cat is very upset as he feels guilty for pushing my husband out of bed. How terrible for you,the man answered.I’ll send an ambulance right away. Mary opened the front door and left it unlatched whilst she lit the electric lights with a match. How do you feel Stan,she enquired. I am thirsty,give me so brandy,he ordered her politely as he was very full of kindness. They said not to let you or Emile drink or eat. Blooming ridiculous,he told her in a manly fashion Soon the ambulance arrived and the paramedics were running up the stairs to seee the poor cat. Mary fainted so they laid her on the bed whilst they comforted Emile and cleaned his paws. Then they picked up Stan and laid him right next to Mary,his wife. Why don’t you have a bigger bed,one asked Stan. Bigger than what,he responded academically. Well,if you were any fatter you’d not be able to get laid with your wife. True,he replied but I am 96 you know.I have erectile malefaction already and am unwilling to have more mistresses and lovers or even concubines. I shall make you some tea the female paramedic told them forcefully Well,you don’t seem to be hurt,the other one told Stan, but the cat may need therapy or counselling because of the guilt he will feel. He’s not a Catholic I hope. No, he’s Jewish,Stan shouted nervously. That’s alright then.He can have concubines if he chooses.How do cats get to be Jewish anyhow/ It’s their souls,Mary said…they are all waiting up there for a suitable place to be reborn and some choose to be cats. But how can you tell? he asked wonderingly.They have no prayer shawls They miaow in Hebrew,Mary said loftily.And they like to sing the psalms before bed. But how do you know it’s Hebrew,he replied.Do you speak it? No, it’s just he hates bacon and peperoni and always wears a hat so it seems he must be one of Jesus’s friends,but not Judas of course.I suppose Jesus wore a hat but it’s never been found as yet.Not even being sold as relics. Well,that’s intriguing.Do you think Emile might be the Messiah? Oh,dear.We never thought of that.Will he have to go to Galilee and catch fish and walk on water? No, he can go to Rome and tell the Pope that the Church is not what God planned. I hope they don’t kill him,Mary cried… God will not be very happy. I didn’t know God had moods,Stan said. He has post-creative depressive disorder….no wonder when we look round he world. Still they did try,I’ll say that for him or her. And so say all of us For he’s a very good yeller,he’s a very good yeller A cat’s life is a fuss.Miaow
Fish,fish wonderful fish… Nothing so tasty gets onto my dish. I live on Whiskas and milk and cold tea. They don’t know I drink it to help me to pee. Milk, milk,I love it well. Mother’s was best,but, oh,what the hell! I drink it at night,to send me to sleep. I feel so nervous when Stan’s old sheep bleats. I sleep with Stan and he’s very kind. I lean on his legs to help me unwind. When he’s got company, I stay outside. I look through a mirror and blimey,I spied Stan was cuddling a lady who was totally nude! You would not believe the strnge sights I have viewed. He was quite naked but I’m used to that. He has no bosom…………..men are quite flat! Mice, mice, mice are so nice! Mince the left overs and serve with boiled rice! Do you need puddings…we never do. Some cats like chewing their master’s old shoe! Drink,drink let me imbibe Nothing quite like it for aiding the Scribe Bed,bed,I lie up there I find beds are better than Mary’s new chairs Sleep,dream, the angels will care I do it often, so I shall go there
Donald said he’s coming back somehow In a different form, perhaps a cow! He made an error, ruining the States If he is a worm then he’ll be bait If he is a dog and bites a child He will be put down like those reviled So many on Death Row he ordered killed The only benefit is to remind Not all humans are quite human-kind
Important Persons shout Is not so crude as our wish: What mad Nijinsky wrote About Diaghilev Is true of the normal heart; For the error bred in the bone Of each woman and each man Craves what it cannot have; Not universal love But to be loved alone.” ― W. H. Auden, Collected Poems
I wish you a low Tier Happy New Leer Happy, need beer Hippy New Flair Happy, Loo near! Aptly New Here. Happy New Beer Unhappy with Lear? Snappy New Year Cherry Xmas Happy Mums R Us We kiss you and say it’s Xmas, so happy you’re dear Very Xmas to view. Very Xmas with flu Make a post of it. Flay the dust out. Hope to flee you soon I can’t mate to go home. Sorry I’ve not been in clutch. Sorry not to sweep my promises. We must be, this year. Be good but impure Have emotions in the flesh Let’s get together with a SIM I’ll see you with the Creator. Are you any good with tarts Flap both your ears .Well, we were born with no lore. I see men gnaw more. Happy Low Tier I feel I am queer
I’m in my cashmere hoodie And I’m wearing cashmaere track pants Polly Wolly Doodle, life’s a lay I’ve got a folding Samsung I think it has a stylus Polly Wolly Doodle. life’s E bay My sheets are very cotton Like they were when slaves were pickin’ Polly Wolly Doodle’s in decay So we lay on slaves’ productions But we did not want to meet them Polly Wolly Doodle, Jesus waves. We were praying to the Devil Dancing with the demons Polly Wolly Doodle, we will pay We imitate work clothing But ours are fur and satin Polly Wolly Doodle, who can pray? The priests abusing children The nuns hide babies dying That was for Lord Jesus They must all be unbelievers Horror is the feeling I declare