The gravity of loss brought me to earth Beneath the rotting leaves, I lay with worms. I wondered if I were of any worth
No more to be enchanted by love’s mirth, I with unnamed particles was turned. The weight of loss bears down the heart to earth.
I could not rise alone but saw a path While I slept new unity had formed I learned I need not think of what I’m worth
My sorrow brought no guilt nor fear of wrath I am both eagle and a twisted worm In my little grave, I loved the earth.
Like the adder, shocked into rebirth. I from silent underworld had learned Not to judge my soul to be of worth.
I shall not fear the flames of hell that burn When blackness is accepted, may one learn? The weight of loss breaks down the soul to earth With dusty shredded leaves, we then converse.
Stan was leaning over, cleaning the new bath.When the doorbell rang,he rushed downstairs and opened the double front door. “Will you take this parcel in for the lady next door?” The postman asked wearily. “Oh,fine Stan stuttered.He was trying to avoid Annie but here she was,coming down the road of superior semi detached houses suitable for ex-headmasters ,small businessmen,econometricians,surgeons,pie salesmen and theologians. She was wearing perfume, and green sandals from TK Maxx,light khaki tencel cropped combat trousers with a purple silky over-blouse, not to mention her matching raspberry and cream underwear .Round her neck hung a miniature grandfather clock on a solid gold chain,and she had three imitation gold and silver watches on each of her three wrists making a total of 333 watches according to Carnap’s theory of logic and Russell’s terrible handwriting. Stanley didn’t know that she had a mobile phone stuffed into her bra—one advantage for the larger sized woman.In fact she had 4 down there in her raspberry coloured glamour bra,as she had a phobia about their batteries running down all at once The more she had the lower the probability of her being without a phone whilst out and about the town and countryside.So she reasoned in her womanly way. Just then one phone rang.She rummaged around to the consternation and turmoil-uation of Stanley and the postman.She plucked out a pale blue phone. “Hi,it’s Annie” she murmured. “Hi Annie it’s Dave the paramedic with carpentry skills. You’ve not rung 999 lately so we were wondering if all was well!” “Oh,I’m terribly sorry.I’ll try to phone later on.Thanks,Petal.That was Dave,our ex-transvestite converted paramedic”,she informed the men.The postman galloped off on his donkey, his bags full of undelivered males.It’s a tough but interesting life in Knittingham. Would you like a male delivery?Contact Parcel Force without delay. Annie went into Stan’s house and demanded a cup of coffee. “Won’t it make you put weight on” Stan quipped ironically. “Do you think I’m too plump?” she responded anxiously.. “Too plump for what?” he quipped amiably. “To attract men,of course!” “No,my angel,you are just perfect”he quacked definitively.”Nor are you an angel,strictly speaking,as I have good reason to know.Thank you,my beloved for services rendered so generously and freely.” “Oh,my goodness I must get home to render the fat from the beef and to make some gooseberry jam.” Stanley looked uneasy. “I wonder why babies are left under gooseberry bushes? The thorns are so big it’s quite dangerous getting them out,or so Mary told me when Lyra was born. She was covered in scratches and wouldn’t come near me for months.” “Why don’t you come upstairs to look at our new purple bathroom suite.Since the Royal Wedding it’s the in colour.The gold taps were expensive but they do go well.” “My God,let me out.” she bawled,”It reminds me of the Vatican and that’s no place for a lady”, “Not even a gay lady?” Stan muttered parsimoniously, as he licked her eyelashes gently. “Stop that.I’ve got my Yves St Laurent mascara on.” “I prefer the taste of the Chanel,”he disclosed privately in an internal secret memo.[available on 50 years] “Why not lick my neck instead?” she enquired curiously as she tripped over Emile the cat, who had slipped into the bathroom as usual to see what they were up to,you know what I mean, you catch my drift? She fell floppily into the bath and banged her head on the taps. “Oh,gosh,better ring 999” Stan said to Emile. “Have you got your catphone warehouse mobile on you?” “Yes ,it’s in my y-fronts”, the cat amiably miaowed. “Hi Dave,this is Emile.Can you come quick.Annie is unconscious and what is worse,she has scratched the new bath.” In fact it was Emile who had scratched the bath that morning but since Stan had not noticed he hoped to, callously, pass the blame onto poor Annie.How cruel can a cat be? Ask any mouse! Still in the end God made all of us and what a terrifying and beautiful world it is.
I tore my map on a sharp nail, And let out an almighty wail. but mother said “it’s alright,dear. The world is still entirely here” She fixed my map with sellotape, Then wiped my face with baby wipes. I went off to fly my kite, And do you know,she was quite right
Please avoid thrilling people on the road Please wave woefully Please weep to yourself and do not bend Please do not walk on the toad. Please do not grow balls here. Please lie off the band Please tell the youth always Please weep quieter. Please tell the tutor if you feel dumb Please note the dawn is for Dons only. Please leap off the chimney breast Please pass your zest and drive yourself round the clown Please pay the piano on arrival. Please plea before coming here. Please bring your own oily paper. Please let all bones knit before retrieval Please keep all secrets in your bed. No pies enrolled here.
If you want to learn anything new you have to be prepared to be a beginner, to feel ignorant. You have to be prepared to to not feeling in control of everything
We have to trust in the unknown and that might be very hard for people who have suffered trauma starvation cruelty etc
If you want to feel powerful and in control and knowledgeable without doing any work you will refuse to look at anything new and that is a very bad sing for most of us. That’s why we all need support from the teacher or a parent or a friend whom we trust enough to show them our vulnerabilities.
To write a poem will take our entire heart Our mind and soul, our body and our dreams. With trepidation,take a pen and start
Let preconceptions , though well meant, depart Creative work evades such plans and schemes To write a poem will shake the entire heart
We travel lands unknown without a chart With our courage, trust the dark unseen For inspiration,take our pens and write
We bite the apple, bitter, hard and tart Knowledge enters in its dream -like streams To write a poem will move each living heart
No logic, reasoning, signs, however wrought Will bring to life the holy pattern’s themes With each image, still your dreaming heart
The earth ,the oceans, seas, the sacred scenes Where humans live out daily what life means To write a poem , we need a mystic’s heart We fill our empty pens,we make a start
The grey cloud of unknowing held me fast
I knew reality unsymbolised
I gaped at trees with blossom till it passed
I would have paid no heed to stinging wasps
The strange, lost feeling blinded heart and eyes
The grey cloud of unknowing held me fast
Is this why girls self harm to feel at last?
Inner pain too deep to make us cry
I look at trees with blossom, this shall pass
Numbness,nothingness,the human test
To try our being ,show our hearts can die
The grey cloud of unknowing taught me fast
Who owns life and whose forefinger traced
The universe, the stars, the earth and sky?
I look at trees with blossom,self effaced
Our words are maps,our sentences are lace
That weave us into being, all engrossed
The grey cloud of unknowing held me fast
What I did not know held me in trust
She showed me a very different approach to dealing with a professional or personal setback: she doesn’t fight, she accepts. She regroups to heal and focuses on restoring her inner strength instead of allowing outside forces to suffocate her. At first, I couldn’t understand what seemed like emotional surrender, but as I got to know her better, I began to appreciate and eventually to emulate her Korean ways. She has taught me that everything is not always a battle.
Mary and Annie went on the beach at Aldeburgh. The beach is mainly shingle. At dawn they have seen the fishing boats going out
I don’t like walking on a shingle,Mary announced it was a truth as if it was a truth like the discovery of gravity
Well Annie said, we both need some extremely good trainers. But we can’t get them here and anyway we’re going home soon. Why don’t we walk on the promenade instead of on the beach?
Well I like to walk along the very edge of the sea and hear the pluck and knock of the tide.
Do stop showing off. I have read Look stranger on this island now by WH Auden.
So have I said Mary and it’s one of the few poems I can remember by heart.
That’s fortunate said Annie because you might get sent to prison for plagiarism.
Apart from you no one else has heard me saying the pluck and knock of the tide.
I expect they’ll see it on your blog.
Who knows that I’ve got a blog Mary asked foolishly?
You will be surprised said Anna.
Last week someone in Iraq was reading it. I don’t suppose they have read Auden unless they are a professor of English literature. That’s a possibility. Will I need to issue an apology?
Yes or the Conservatives will put you in jail.
Well I’m definitely not going to vote for the Conservative party at the next election.
Mary saw the bus was due in five minutes.She applied some sunscreen and combed her hair gently with a cake fork while she wondered why she was going out.She looked into her phone camera to get her hair in order Alas, the familiar footsteps of Annie were heard on the patio.In she flew dressed in red and brown like a robin in winter except she wore pure wool and nit feathers How do you like my outfit, she cried girlishly Mary stared at her, noting the pale beige face makeup from Max Tucker and brick coloured lipstick from Wigan’s Makeup Outlet Store where Annie loved to browse for days on end. I think the brick coloured lipstick does not go with the scarlet jacket,Annie. Oh, don’t worry.It’s the in thing now to clash That might be true but men won’t know it’s a fashion unless they read Vogue.Most don’t. Never mind all that. I’ve brought Emile a new blanket He’s not a dog,you know.Do cats need blankets? If you drove it would protect the seat. I might go round the bend.If we drive we almost certainly would meet bends Do fish get the bends,mewed Emile? We don’t know that.It only proves that a question can be asked in a human language but within that system there is no way of answering it,Mary told him quietly, thinking of Wittgenstein her husband’s former tutor. First of all, fish probably can’t speak English or understand it. How amazing, the little cat replied.How stupid can you get? Well a fish would think you were stupid for not being able to live in the sea. So true,Emile sighed.Shall I try? Don’t be so ridiculous,Annie whispered.The sea in not near Knittingham. Mary can’t drive and you may drown. Then St Peter will be reading out all your sins Can cats commit sins, asked Emile with surprise Yes, because you know you have a choice.You can bite my hand or resist the temptation I don’t feel like biting it now so if I did it would not give me pleasure. For God’s sake, stop arguing.Anyone would think you’d been to the Synagogue, today Mary shouted But in a Synagogue men argue about the Torah not about cats swimming,Emile replied But then it gets to be a habit,Mary finished. Still many other people argue,Annie reminded her. But God does not want it,Mary said How do you know? He/She may love to hear it.It will provoke thought And it may provoke a Flood or you being turned into a pillow of salt,Mary screamed Pillar of Salt,Annie corrected her Why do people not turn into pepper, the cat asked wisely. There is no pepper in the Dead Sea, the women agreed.~And black pepper/white pepper could be PIC They have red peppers in the Market.Annie mused.And yellow too But where does that leave us?Where was Mary going to and why has she not left for the bus stop? Was it something wicked that she was trying to do in secret? We’ll see tomorrow I expect
Let me give Colvile one explanation for the fact that waiting lists have stopped rising. My wife recently saw her GP with a view to being referred to a consultant. She was told that local hospitals have closed their lists for the type of procedure she required, thus preventing the numbers from rising
Like a piece of ground where bombs go off repeatedly,
my inner landscape is perpetually marked
by these explosions of sorrow,
made all the worse
by the lack of a listening ear,
a warm open heart
or an outstrerched hand.
I have constructed a map
but it's incomplete,by its nature;
so even now,I might stumble into an old hole
or a new one,created
by reverberations underground;
the noise like distant music,
a constant drumbeat.
We do not dance
I might call it the Liturgy of Loss,
a dance to the music of rhyme;
Patterns abd shapes hold the feelings
and express them.The shape of these forms
is a container for the grief.
In this way,I indicate
that life will go on;I hear the healing music
and sing to its melodies
like a mermaid on the edge of the sea in winter
when the water is cold and green like his eyes,
and the rocks are hard like large fists.
Nature can be a s ymbol for such emotion
we cannot walk without a tear in ech eye
and a softening of our hearts
as tenderly we touch the world
and are touched in turn by each other.
Stretch out your hand to meet mine.
We can hold each other better
than each can hold theirself.
Like in sex, the meaning is not the climax
but the giving and being given;
receiving and being received.
The sacredness of the erotic needs no explanation
to a gardener or a fisherman
but may need it for the information saturated,postmodern
who dwell in the fascist virtual reality
we call life on earth today
