Author: Katherine

Poetry writer and author

From puzzles to politics

The world that we live in is a very different one from the tiny world of the su doku puzzle.

But there are certain things they have in common.

It seems that everything within the puzzle is  connected to everything else so if you’re trying to fill in all the number ones and you can’t do it it doesn’t matter which other number you choose to follow instead because they’re all very closely linked indeed you could say they are chained together.

So wherever you start from or wherever you go on the way you will get to the same place in the end.

Human life may be looked at this way although it may be metaphorical rather than literal

Everything is connected and if you are having a difficult time dealing with a problem in your life which seems insoluble then you could follow this idea and try to deal with a different problem in your life instead. This will take your mind off the problem that you are stuck with and give your brain a rest. You may find afterwards that you can see the way to go forward with the first problem.

Also I imagine that if you do something bad unless you can resolve that in any way that’s possible that may very well affect you in other parts of your life.

I’m not sure if that’s what people call karma but I do think there is a connection.

What  you give Life to will help you and what you destroy may ultimately destroy you.

It’s worth thinking about because otherwise these puzzles are rather sterile. I like to look at them from a different perspective a wider perspective or to use them as a way of dealing with more difficult problems

After all there are no straight lines in nature but in geometry there are straight lines and triangles squares and parallelograms that’s because it’s too difficult to deal with curves as they are straight away

So we look at something simpler than curves known as straight lines which don’t actually exist in reality. They’re a great help in geometry and also in architecture and mechanics and all parts of physics

It’s not surprising that we have to invent ways of simplifying the world before we  can understand it or deal with it because it’s very very complicated.

So we pretend it’s simpler than it really is.

I have not yet talked about how this could relate to politics

But I think I will do that one day

Creation and death

I am afraid to go again to that dark place

Where life and  death, creation and decay

Give us  some new words so we can pray

Yes, I am frightened of its dark embrace.

In the roots of trees, the roots of hearts

In the dark black soil which gives us life

We lose our self, our husband or our wife.

Newness only comes when thoughts depart.

When we reach the depths of life we know

Still I am afraid to linger there.

I tried to run away, I don’t mind where.

There is no lower place where we can go.

Yet my other self will not desist

Until we find the place where life persists

That golden light

Wrapped in your smile,I saw the golden light
By a chance, that time God’s love revealed
Our spirits touched, our sorrows sent to flight

In that space, our worries did not bite
The trees were shelter, losses were each healed
Wrapped in your holy smile,I saw the light

Do you learn there is a second sight
From heart and soul , the ancient bells shall peal
Where spirits touch ,where sorrows quickly fly

And who but you would see my inner plight
Would know the false from what is right and real
Wrapped in your smile,I felt warm golden light

No army with its metal and its might
Can win the final war , love conquers steel
As spirits touch ,as sorrows say goodbye

We learn it’s hard to feel what others feel
And not draw back from grief, from loss revealed
Wrapped in your holy smile ,O golden light
Our spirits touch, our eyes weep their delight

Death danced through the door

I saw the shape of death dance through the door

I wish I had not opened it that day

I know that I shan’t see you anymore.

We have to pay the price, death is a whore

I may have the words, but I can’t say

I saw the shape of death dance through the door

When death comes, he takes someone away

I know I will not see you anymore.

I could study books and learn the lore.

But I can never make death go away

I saw the shape of death dance through the door

I have never seen death’s shape before.

It’s not a game that I would want to play

I know that I won’t see you anymore.

Death will  snatch us all, the rich,the poor

We’d better get prepared without delay

I saw the shape of death rush through the door

I do not know the words of any prayer

Death will come and loss will leave us bare

I saw the shape of death come through the door

I’ve lost so much I can’t lose any more

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

I heard her laughter

The hedge was very big but the light came through

I heard that laughter, knew that it was you

Happy  sound that  surprised me with its joy

I had not heard such laughter since you died

I looked right through the hedge it had no leaves

The laughter was such comfort in my grief

Then I heard your voice you called hello

You sounded happier than I’ve ever known

Instead of a cramped coffin there was space

Everything was open with such grace.

Instead of deep black soil I saw this light

In my dreams I felt you near that night.

Instead of  tense contraction I felt free

This little dream was beautiful to me

And if I close my eyes I see it still

Though god himself had died upon a hill.

Eternal life is here on earth I knew

With such  gifts we  learn a different view

I’ll love you till I die to

‘Twas but a reptile passing by.
It flew across the deep blue sky
Why do reptiles fly so high?
I’ll love you till I die.

“Twas but a cat under the moon.
Did you have a silver spoon?
Why can’t cats all waul in tune?
I’ll love you very soon

‘Twas but a wooden legged man,
Carrying a  brass saucepan.
Can’t men do what women can?
I’ll love you better than.

Why are adverbs?
What are nouns?
why do circuses have clowns?
I’ll love you lying down.

Where do dreams go in the day?
What game can we adults play?
Can you or can you not say?
I’ll love you,in my way.

‘Twas but a verse that seemed so free.
It floated over my oak tree.
I have eyes but cannot see.
I’ll love you when I be.

Sudoku puzzles habits and being alive

Although I have recently done probably two or three hundred Sudoku puzzles I have never liked them. Why would I do something that I don’t like?

Sometimes you don’t have a lot of choice. If you are ill but tired of reading and not sleepy enough to sleep… It may be something that appeals to you.

Suddenly thought while I was doing one I know why I don’t like them it’s because they could be done by a robot.

In a way they are a bit like jigsaw puzzles. But Jigsaw puzzles also appeal to the senses as they usually are an image with colour and shape and you have to find out what that is by putting it together.

Then again it reminds me of studying a skeleton but what is most interesting about us is not in our skeletons. Not many people may know what is most interesting about us but we know it’s got to do with being alive and aware of conscious of others and having warmth.

Of course the man who invented the proof that there is no complete set of axioms which determine a set in mathematics in which all questions can be answered within the system.

It’s very very complicated and the poor man Gödel was not very happy to start with and after working in this field for some years he became paranoid and probably mentally ill afraid of being poisoned and died young.

It doesn’t attract one to study that kind of mathematics for more than one hour a day.

Not everybody who’s good at mathematics is autistic but it’s not unusual and good luck to people of different find a career that suits them and does not make too many demands of the wrong type

I heard someone on the radio being interviewed and he said he was a mathematician in a an American university and it only discovered he was autistic when he was 54. The interviewer said but did your colleagues not notice anything different about you?

No he said because they were all very similar to me.

Anyway I have decided if something can be done by a robot then let a robot do it but it’s not my idea of creativity or fun or joy

It could just be a habit but welter Pater so that habits where a kind of living death

Where would we be without our habits of drinking tea at certain times of the day, going to church on Sunday

Habits come provide a skeleton for a life but we don’t like to go to bed with the skeleton and we don’t like to be too habitually addicted to various ways of passing the time which in a way is a form of death

How much life can we bear to feel? Our emotions unless they’re very conformist maybe labeled as ADHD or borderline personality disorder etc when maybe having strong emotions and feelings anxiety, rage anger love kindness tenderness are all forms of life.

Mind you I would say that rage is very dangerous if it is not held in check sometimes but lots of feelings are just unpleasant for us to bear so we would rather be numbed by drugs or drink or by doing Sudoku puzzles..

We need to understand the skeleton but it’s not life itself is it?

It’s the flesh that is alive. The flesh the nerves the muscles and the mind. The brain itself is flesh.

Now I have become habituated to doing these puzzles.

When I was very ill it took me 3 hours to do a simple one which I can now do in 9 minutes so it’s a way of seeing how I’m feeling but apart from that I don’t think it’s something that I want to concentrate on for the rest of my life, however short that might be

With nerves that wave.

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Good morning,Ms Brown
Gosh,you are s politically correct ,doctor
In my view,it matters only for us to be medically correct,dear.And grammatically,of course.
How true, noble sire.
Now, what’s the problem today,madame?
It’s my nerves,doctor.I hate them so much I feel almost derisory..which is totally crackers nowadays with so many street drugs to take one’s mind out of this world.
What’s wrong with your nerves to make you feel like this all of a sudden?
I think they are too big,mein herr.Can I have plastic surgery on them to replace then with plastic ones .I mean artificial like dentures are for teeth that drop out?The dentist told me my nerves are double the average size. for humans,
But what is the standard deviation? Averages are no use alone.I wish people learned this in school
How dare you say that! I have never deviated in any way.And I’ve never been average… and surely double the average size must mean something gross is going on?
What a pity this is.You are a very charming and glamorous lady…I say that only to comfort you,not to seduce you which is illegal anyway,even if I wanted to do.Which I deny absolutely;
Well,my nerves feel like long wild grasses waving in a cold westerly breeze in a great big meadow in Hartland,North Devon where many lips have cracked.And sailors drowned off shore too…why some even drowned on the shore and their ghosts still wander below the sheer and terrifying cliffs of alabaster and silver.
Have you ever though of writing narrative or lyrical poetry or even romantic novels?
What,write poetry with nerves like this?Do you think I’m a masochist or what?
Well, you could try using a pen or a keyboard,you know. Now,God has given some of us larger nerves than others.It’s an evolutionary advantage to have some sensitive people about,like the canaries in the coal mines.They feel trouble coming before the rest of humankind
That’s hardly any use to me as I am childless and can’t pass it on.
God didn’t know that when he created you.Or if he did,he knew with nerves like this motherhood would be perilous and at least you can be a human canary
Well,is there any surgery to help me or any other amelioration to my symptoms?
Apart from removing your head there’s not much I can suggest right now, if you want a verdict,perhaps you can plant some wild flowers amid these long waving grasses and enjoy the beauty that you will perceive in summertime if you can be patient
You’re an odd doctor compared to the usual one.
Actually I’m really the computer repair man.The system has crashed and so has the doctor…temporarily
I knew you looked different but I put it down to my giant nerves disturbing my vision…
So will you come back to see the doctor later?He is just in the pub drinking blackcurrant liqueur for his nerves!
What’s it got to do with you if I come back again or not?
I love your mind,I love your body .I love your tentacles,receptecles and all your past and future particles.I love every bit of you especially your nerves.I always liked a woman with very big nerves.
Really? Well,that’s cheered me up a great deal.I like the beast in man.How about my wild grasses?
I love those too.Why,I’d like to lie down amongst them if you catch my drift.
Can you read between the lines or write between them?
Have you ever thought of taking up psychotherapy?
I prefer to help computers.Hearing sad stories from disturbed folk all day must be draining as you can’t run out when you get overwhelmed like you can at parties
Yes,but it would be horribly fascinating to hear all these stories.And now I am off to the garden centre to buy some flower seeds.
I’d give you some seeds myself but it would be wrong to sow your field here in this office and the doctor might come in any time now which would be a trifle unseemly.
Well,he could sow his wild oats as well!
What a wicked woman you are;I love your mind.You seem quite out of the orddinary… please keep your big nerves.
I am only offering this with the aim of calming those huge nerves .I am not thinking of enjoying lust or of how romantic you seem and how artistically brilliantl you are dressed and your golden curls and blue clothes.And your cleverness.
I quite understand.I shall keep it all under my hat. if you see what I mean
It’s an amazing red hat.Are you a Cardinal?
No,I stole it off one
I’d love to hear the whole story….who,when and where?
Well,I hope to publish it on Swindle soon.
We can’t wait.

Neither can I

At first it seems like summer

At first it seemed like summer once again
When cats curled up on cushions drowse  and dream
Yet second seeing finds the sun  estranged
Makes autumn bring out ancient  colouring schemes

 

The world, intense,  is full of new born dawns
At first it seems like summer still remains
We love the greeny grass of ancient lawns
Yet second seeing  learns the sun’s disdain

 
While cats curled up on cushions drowse  and dream
While little children play with whip and ball
Then autumn brings out ancient  coloured schemes
As we begin to view the  full filled Fall

 

So  older people’s minds  weave new  and lost
And cats curled up on cushions drowse  and dream
We  notice how the sun  has burned the grass
While autumn paints its ancient  coloured themes

 

Round the wheel turns at a steady pace
Yet it seemed like summer  had remained
Nature does not enter any race
Yet second seeing finds the sun estranged

In my end is  origin and growth
For the racing hare and weary sloth

 

Mary and the shoes.

Do you want some new shoes for the autumn, Annie cried excitedly to her neighbour Mary, who was sweeping the front path which had been covered by red leaves from the local trees?

Well it won’t be autumn for much longer and moreover my feet are painful

Well do you want some new shoes for the winter?.

I would like some Brogues. I used to have some from Potters of Wiganbl and Stalybridge.

What happened to them, Annamie said brightly?

I put all my comfortable shoes into a bag to take them upstairs and  someone must have thought it was rubbish and put them into the dustbin because I can’t find them anywhere.

Well it wasn’t me mioawed Emile Mary’s delightful cat.

And it wasn’t I  cried Dave the adorable paramedic as he ran through the front door and into the kitchen wearing the green and red striped dress which he adored.

Well I have looked up and down and high and low and in and out and roundabout ai I have completely given up.

Let’s let’s all have a nice cup of boiling hot decaffeinated tea preferably earl grey! (The author did the same and scalded herself)

I would love one said Dave seriously.

When Annie carried in the tray of tea she heard Mary explaining to Dave that her feet were very deformed and she could no longer wear new shoes because they were too stiff.

Well you could buy some second hand ones from eBay or vintage ones  or who knows!?

They’ve not made any for several years but maybe somebody’s been wearing them and they’ve got nice and battered and she’s decided to get new ones.

So she’s going to sell them for five pounds to someone either very poor or with terrible feet 

I used to like beautiful shoesvsaid Mary but now I am  in this terrible pain from arthritis I wouldn’t mind as long as I can get them on and they don’t hurt otherwise I can’t go outside especially in the winter because sandals might be comfortable in the summer but even then when your feet are deformed sandals don’t give enough protection

Well we’ll have to go on to Google and put in some old brogues wanted

Or Anny thought to herself would we prefer some old rogues?

Perhapa she would but she’s not saying anything to the others sometimes Annie can feel a bit hurt by the way that her friends treat her as if she’s not as good as them because she hasn’t read summs theologica or Hitler’s diaries on the other hand they might be interested in the recent discovery of Hitler’s DNA

Again the dear lady remains silent.

Perhaps she is undergoing a metamorphosis meanwhile Mary has found some grey brogues for sale and they look very well worn

But we can’t look in the Guardian for what to wear with a pair of worn-old brogues when all the Guardian shows is what to wear with your new knee-high boots or what to wear with your sheepskin mittens. The entire outfit will cost about 935 pounds which tells you something about the salaries of journalists!

Is there any newspaper or magazine that would advise you what to wear with a pair of second-hand battered old brogues you know they are made by a very good shoe company? Would the Queen wear them instead of trainers?

You never know. look at least Mary we will be able to go outside when she gets these old shoes otherwise you’d have to cut the toes out of her present shoes and that’s not very nice in the winter is it? 

Well many people like Michael Rosen the wealthy poet are criticized for using their  free bus pass even when they are age 79 and have nearly died of covid. And who defines wealthy nowadays question mark is Mary wealthy because she has a house?

Why someone like Michael Rosen gets attacked on Twitter or X is a great puzzle with it only goes to show that noone is safe;after all:look what happened to Jesus Christ and they didn’t even have mobile phones in those days let alone social media thought for the day

The better kinder more thoughtful you are the more likely you are to be attacked especially on social media.

So if you lose your London bus pass for pensioners do not put it on x I’m X keep quiet about it and just ask your friends what to do  You don’t need to ask entire world for advice

Very wise meowed the cat

And so said all of us

Meditating over the dale’s edge

short-eared durham owl
meditating over the dale’s edge,
shadows the fields and folds
in elegant diurnal flight.
on wind-side,careful sight,
may swoop to prey
and away.

your yellow broad-eyed look,
at once both sharp and distant,
holds me.
oh,silence,
oh,wind on green,
oh,earth,
sky.

immense your held vision,
sphere without center,
pied geometer of flight,
oh, swift descent and ascent.
trees bunched by dry stone wall
call heart home

The art of doing nothing

The art of doing nothing’s hard to learn
To sit and daydream till we get new thoughts
It’s immoral, say the Puritans reformed

Harder to accept the need to mourn
So many ancient losses strip our hearts.
The art of doing nothing’s hard to learn

The feelings  that seemed hardest to be borne
We could have looked for maps or sought out charts
It’s immoral to seek help  so we’ve been told

Here we weep when our skinned hearts are torn
We fear we may have forfeited love’s balm
The art of doing nothing’s hard to learn

We only know our self when love is born
In another’s eyes we find our calm
Reject the harshness of old Luther’s forms

Fear not death, for there are strong wide arms
God is not a monster who wills harm
The art of doing nothing will prepare
For when we meet one day his welcome stare

Ancient hands leave copies in the Cave

Photo by Matheus Viana on Pexels.com

Human hands 7,300 BCE Wikipedia

I can’t get just one photo… technical problem

They knew what we moderns learned this year
When deprived of company and touch
We need to feel, we need the hands that care

As cats will sleep in heaps beside the fire
I would warm,caress you, humans must
Cats knew what we humans learned this year


I remember when you brushed my hair
When you held me close your skin was musk
We need to feel, we need the hands that care

Even touching gently your skin bare
Gave me solace, made my world seem just
Cats knew what we humans learned this year

Crying babies,nursing them’s a prayer
But refugees lie restless in the dust
We need to feel, we need the hearts that care


They knew what we moderns learned this year
When deprived of company and touch
We need to feel, we need the hands that care

Poor in money, yet in loving rich
Glue my broken heart up lest it cracks
Ancients knew what moderns learned this year
We need to feel, we need strong hands that care

Day shall come again

When red sun drops and cooling night rolls in
Darkness masks both danger and our vision
Ancient minds fear day won’t come again
Courage for the delicate seems thin.
We wrestle with our indecision
When low sun drops and a new night rolls in
But now , fresh stricken by the dread of sin
Who protects us from derision?
Our ancient mind fears day won’t come again
As we sleep we’re entertained within
Bold dreams squander all illusion
When sunset comes the darkest night rolls in
In  dreams we see  new life  arising
Then fancy turns to full communion
The ancient mind dreads day won’t come again
Despite such angst, our sacred life began
When sperm leaped up in proud confusion.
When deep sun dropped and a new night rolled in
All human hearts cried,Day shall come again”

Flowers pose.

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

Like a fallen moon

Old man,bending over,
arched like a fallen moon
in a dark lilac November sky.
joy and pain wrestle my heart across the emptiness
and toss it up like a damp rocket
to fall in a hidden corner where mice live.
Would that not be a good ending,to be dust
to these little creatures nesting
in my chewed green twine and my tartan basket?
They have eyes and shiver in my hand when I rescue them
from the cat…
as any heart might.
Now night falls on the newspaper basket
where the damp Times and the Guardian mix into glue
and tomorrow the sun will rise
and it will just be the garbage
with no poetic undertones nor deathly hushes..
Heather and a silver light
you stand on a hill top like a god
looking over his domain.
Strong and now weak
it’s the humane condition
Everlasting life is too dangerous for humans.
Silent,motionless,home of beetles
bit by bit we fall away
into the mother soil
with cracked jugs and dropped coins
for a future academic to dig into.
Transparent hand touches me.
Whose might it be

The sky in spring

The sky in spring in autumn looks the same

In spring it gives us joy, in fall we’re glum.

And so we play on in our little games.

The inbetween is hard to give a name.

Transitions, changes, fear of what’s to come.

The sky in spring in autumn looks the same

Have the gods deserted, who’s to blame?

If we cannot share our hearts go numb.

So we play on in our little games.

The human heart and mind are often lame.

Angered by the movements of the sun

The sky in spring in autumn looks the same

Can the spirits of our hearts be tamed?

Obsessive thoughts will linger and rerub

So we play on in our little game’s 

In spring life starts again, then what’s to come

But summer heat the flowers the bees that hum

The sky in spring and autumn looks the same

Round and round we go, for life’s a game