Author: Katherine

Poetry writer and author

A tonic

Derry

A blog is a guide’s best friend

He has no best fiend yet

She drowned their worries in a sing song

A fog got them in the bend

She frowned in a bath of cold water

Where is the Curse this morning?

Be patient with us

I got here first but why?

We are understaffed, full of idiots and believe in euthanasia How are you?

.I believe in sudden wrath

He flew onto a page.

She had a clinic attack ,It was the doctor

I am lying

So am I

Earn less pay less

Pay less tax,.. take a lower paid job or become a beggar

Get a smaller house in a tougher area.

Sell your car

Don’t buy goods on which you pay VAT

Get rid of your accountant

Sell your dog and get a cat

Don’t marry, love in sin

Do we really need a licence to love?

Change the law

The time of weeping

My blood by Katherine

The endless sobs, the weeping with loud voice

Noone would live here by choice

The families cannot bear the mother’s pain

So they send them here the sense is plain

How do Carers paid the lowest wage

Replace the family who have disengaged?

Yet the old are selfish in their whines .

They drive away their child so many times

Love must have conditions it’s no game

Before you age remember this fact plain

Poison

The tree’s pale branches turn again to red

Lately they’ve been pale yet they are not dead

The Covid winter did the same to us

Yet we shall brighten too we be are not cursed

There is no God who punishes like this

Though we have gone wrong we seek new paths

But men will fight engendering new wrath

Murder hate and rage can grip our hearts

Even in the home, fly poisoned darts

One changed person,one new life

Can lead many others out of strife.

God on Zoom

Oh God I’m feeling frantic in my room

I wish to pray, Lord are you yet on Zoom?

if you need a laptop I like Dell

Don’t appear too bright,I’m in a cell

I stole some cash and alcohol as well.

Now they’re  going to put me on the pill

Is it contraception I don’t know

I am schizophrenic ,what a blow.

I am having therapy long term

Don’t use my phone I need it for my crime

Now I am mad and Boris rules the land

One fine day this man needs to be banned

You don’t say

My funny drawing

Born to sin,,,the original story

Born with a fin,.. the half life of a fish

Born in a tin,,,how to become a baked bean

Born to pin. A tailor’s life

Born to win .but at what?

Made with bear,. I am still there

In the Arctic full of elastic

My first confession.. I stole a tomato to give the priest

My last confession, I don’t remember.

The mountains Mourn

Oh, it’s Bloody Sunday here in Britain

An obituary is easily written

Many people shot and killed

As slowly grind God’s many mills

So civilised, we’re always right

Didn’t these people want to fight?

Cowards here the unarmed men

Shot by Britain now again

Women too may mingle in

We’re not averse to shooting them

Our care and manners are skin deep

We’re barbarians , you are sheep.

Ireland starved and treated ill

I am angry at this still

Now we know if there’s Civil War

The army is trained to shoot us all

Black and white,Fenian green

The mountains mourn for they have seen.

Mourning

Oh, it’s Bloody Sunday here in Britain

An obituary is easily written

Many people shot and killed

As slowly grind God’s many mills

So civilised we are always right

Did these people not want to fight?

Cowards here the unarmed men

Shot by Britain now again

Women too may mingle in

We’re not averse to shooting them

Our care and manners are skin deep

We’re barbarians , you are sheep.

Ireland starved and treated ill

I am angry at this still

Now we know if there’s Civil War

The army is trained to shoot us all

Black and white,Fenian green

The mountains mourn for they have seen.

The world of trust, of relaxation, tact

Photo0077

Each body cell can  widen or contract
Like individual beings,  each minute,
Each shows  a different world than we expect

In our secrecy, new visions may impact
Our  hidden mind with metaphor’s  astute,
As body cells  each open or contract

From  our pain, experience  distracts.
The mind and heart and soul can  each  re-route
We see a world more changed than we expect

 

The world of trust, of relaxation, tact,
Tensions   in the mind    will soon dispute.
The choir of cells may sing or  lose affect

Faith in the unknown, what shows our lack?
Can we reach such faith in minute steps?
We “see” our world  too much under attack

As glows the  candle,  at sweet Fire it hints
Let each respond in   their  own dialect
Each body cell can  widen or contract
We see new worlds, not mirrors  ,blind reflects

Throw your money into a black hole

Katherine's avatarHow my heart speaks

The sky is yellow ochre tinged with grey
The sun is gone and we felt stark dismay
We can’t meet friends in person any more
Only shout as we stand by the door

I think the source of Covid  is just cash
Money laundered less, the notes unwashed
The coins are black as coal in devil’s  claws
Don’t leave  the tip that kills , nor money gnaw

I used to suck a shilling while I worked
I  tapped my  fingers  where it would not hurt
But now the sight of pounds makes   me feel sick
Never use old notes nor lovers lick 

Throw your money into a black hole
You may starve but this will save your soul

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Or Nero

What a friend we have in zero

We get morbid, disappear,no?

By Katherine copyright

No demand can bring back heroes

At my command we flung theories.

How wet sand won’t answer queries.

Come unto the Queen’s tiaras

I’ll have baked beans on your knee, Oh !

The empty flat

Photo with colours inverted by Katherine

I looked round but the place was empty

No furniture,except the blue kitchen units

Nice, I thought just right for one

The black tiled floor gleamed in the dawn sunlight

But it doesn’t seem right

Where are our books?

I can’t remember the house

Is he there?

I have lost him

Misplaced him

He would never have left me

I can’t find his image in my mind

He has evaporated,the hot sun stole him

Not even a shadow remains.

What Loss

What disintegration

Where do I go from here?

Merrier

By Katherine

More of a derrière

Scores to worry her.

Whores will ferry her

Stories to message her.

Victoria savaged where?

Dons to scarify

I hoard carriage bears

Lore of Lancashire

Core of austerity

Door of prosperity

Flora He married her

She was a bull terrier

That was the barrier.

It could have been eerier

Even hysteria.

Living in fear of her

I like blue wisteria

Not in the interior

How do you feel,wearier?

I saw Mother Superior

Touch me

My tree

Holding hands in the dark

Helps us when we cannot talk

Touching, holding, being there

Gives us strength so we can bear

The heavy load,the angst, the care

The holy dove,the hands of love

Down below, up above

Grasp my body, hold me tight

Through the nightmares,give me light

Comfort me, we’re not alone

In the darkness be my home

O cruel sun

The sun appeared but now has left us here

With dull grey sky and trees as cruel as spears

We control our homes as best we can

But. Nature is a Force more strong than Man

Even in our bodies we feel pain

Thus evil is around us like a stain

Why does God all powerful not step in?

When children die,when wars begin again?

When every state has weapons for mass kills

Jesus dies with victims of our Will

We allowed the government our tax

So our evil to the worst is matched

My random thoughts.

Many hands make sight work

I thought it was our eyes

Though it might work

Many women make tight work

My husband was puzzled by a Consultant Dermatologist

What was that she had on?

She wore a short dress that clung like a bathing suit except it had no crotch.Luckily she had white knickers

It would be cheaper to buy s bathing suit !

O cruel sun

The sun appeared but now has left us here

With dull grey sky and trees as cruel as spears

We control our homes as best we can

But. Nature is a Force more strong than Man

Even in our bodies we feel pain

Thus evil is around us like a stain

Why does God all powerful not step in?

When children die,when wars begin again?

When every state has weapons for mass kills

Jesus dies with victims of our Will

We allowed the government our tax

So our evil to the worst is matched

Memories

The wooden sides and base are worn to smooth

I stare into the river water soothes

London’s first clean water from far springs

Now your ashes mingle as birds sing

I cannot take them back,dissolved to mud.

Nor see your face again as a wife should

I let you go and set you free to fly

What kind of love is this that lets men die?

As you lay, your cubicle smelled sweet.

Peaceful as a heather moor retreat