Author: Katherine

Poetry writer and author

The branches  in the breeze  sway , cats miaow

Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs
No asking where to go or what to do
Before the blossom and  emerging bulbs

No outdoor flowers  decorate  my tubs
The waxy flowered cyclamens are few
Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs

As I watch the sparrows my heart ‘s stilled
The  politics, the corrections are subdued
Yet  trees will blossom  over crocus bulbs

The leaders seek to force a war by will
No reflection, certain what to do
Would I were a sparrow on the sill

Will the warships move their mighty hulls?
From bow to stern they ‘re filled with bombs for U
Yet  trees will blossom  over  tiny bulbs

The branches  in the breeze  sway , cats miaow
Was evolution wise for chimpanzees?
Already sparrows dart between  the shrubs
Our species cannibals ,  can we not love?

 

 

 

 

 

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?

Yes, my husband is a changed man since he died
I have  dreamed  of him  so frequently  he hides
One night we knelt  down on the kitchen floor
With brillo pads in hand we scrubbed the door

Then we cleaned the oven for two hours
Death has given him  such odd new powers
He never speaks nor asks me what to do
Thank the Lord our fireplace  no flue

I see more of him  now  that he is dead
For every night these dreams  live in my head
He does not go to work nor write more books
He goes to Ealing and he wants to cook

Should I buy some ground in the church yard?
I have his ashes standing by the lard
In the fridge the suet   waits for me
To make an apple dumpling for our tea


Oh, yes he likes to know what I shall eat
He starved to death,his heart was far too weak
But yet he likes to see  me eat and sleep
And have a little   cat next to my feet

So far I do not love another man
I should become pan-sexual if I can
For then I need  not worry who to please
I hate to lose myself  but like to tease

Should my husband see   me in the bed
With another pillow and a head
He might feel unwanted  and be sad!
Yet he left me and now I’m feeling mad

Why  clean the oven, clean the kitchen sink?
Why change the plugs and make the cat drink ink?
Why have breakfast, why eat bread and jam?
Why cook bacon in the frying pan?

Why go to bed when I shall have to rise?
Why get up  when I shall later lie?
Why get washed when dirt  comes back again?
Why wash my hair and use a fountain pen?

I wonder why the floor is full of mud
And whether nature gave me enough blood.
Life is so precarious  use it well
Before we hear the  tolling of  the knell

 

 

A glowing screen

Our names wiill come up on a  glowing screen 
This is why we fund the NHS
Everyone  wants fame, to be a scream
But I  just want post traumatic  congress

I sit  down peering   furtively, bizarrely
Eventually I’m sitting there  alone
I knew I’d not fit in that  group of monsters
I am hyper vigilant  when I’m at home

Now I feel both desolate and rejected
They did not want my blood , it is too red
Then I found myself ejected
Without a lump of honey on my bread

The doctor wanted 20 different readings
At this rate it will take forever more
I see a mist of red,  my temper’s  rising
Help me to  the flexi- exit door

If this be love

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Image by Katherine

If this be love,then let me have your hate.
If you be true then let me hear your lies.
For this,  my heart, your message comes too late.
For now my need is  for the thoughtful wise.

 

If this be marriage,let me have divorce.
If this be holy,  hasten I to hell..
For love comes in its time without such force.
And of its message ?ho am I to tell?

 

If this be love,then let me dwell alone.
If this be love, I will be forever chaste.
Your  love is like a blow that breaks my bones
A love that lays your world and mine to waste

 

Real love can shake us to our inner core.

Of your self centered love. tell me no more

 

The doll

They gave me a small watch on Xmas Day
But with a watch a little child can’t play
I envied both my sisters with  new dolls
As on the old settee the dolls were lulled

I stood  there uncomprehending and alone
Had I reached unknowing a milestone?
Then my sister lent  me one of hers
I broke that little  head  upon my chair

I was holding her with tenderness
Scarcely breathing in my velvet dress
So   I sat down to   rock  my babe  awhile
The horror of   her  cracking head was vile

Now I play with  numbers and with  words
And   look back sadly at that little girl

 

We broke the symbols down and we are mad

Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread
Nothing  stays the same ,much as we hope
He drowns with refugees,  he crawls in mud

Life and God aren’t static.souls have fled
Do not deny  the loss,  nor  its great scope
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread

Europe cracked ,  a billion billion   dead
Unacknowledged evil  is the rope
He burned with  Europe’s Jews ,we lust in bed

The War’s not gone, it lives inside the head
We do not need a thousand microscopes
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread

The symbol’s done, the  bread of heaven ‘s bad
We “Christians” were not there when Jesus  spoke
Christ burned with  gypsies, queers , was shot unclad

It’s over, people,what  we  never read.
We  ruined  the world ,  destroyed the ones who fled
Jesus   is not in the Sacred Bread
He drowned  and burned was shot,he’s truly dead

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anthropomorphism is my default now

 

 

 

This photo is copyright   to me

 

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthropomorphism

I treated this strange creature  with great care
I  knew she was not human, so unfair
She looked like my old cat before it died
Someone give her food,  make sure it’s fried

She could not mew nor bark nor did she speak
I did not tell her that she was a freak
She liked to use her hair as a defence
Peering out  as if in recompense

But if I’d cut it off, she would have screamed
As she watched  the music  fly in streams
She saw her visions and she talked to Lights
Noone  human   is vouchsafed such sights

But still I   liked to gorge on her cheese flan
She might not act  quite human but   who can?

 

We left the  old Road Atlas in a box

London is bewildered by its roads
The Circular, the North,the South,  the Codes
The Morse  and the  Enigma Turing broke
So now we have new bicycles with spokes

Once we had the A to Z  in hand
Turn it upside down and you’ll be grand
New technology has  made  great strides
Carrying us to Eden ,what a ride

The motorways are  empty  for  tonight
God decided  we had too much Light
He  taught the bare cheeked Moon   on Jesus’ mount
To turn the other side when love’s about

I liked to use a compass and a map
But now, my dear,  most everything’s on tap
I crouch  beneath my sister as she drives
In the dark on the M 25

But if it’s closed, we are completely foxed
We left the  old Road Atlas in  a box
Along with all my ex’s underpants
And naturally  his principles of Kant

We may be in Watford  or in Bucks
I  often wonder what will rhyme with luck
We may be near St Alban’s, we can’t see
The car ran up the trunk of this oak tree

We rang 999  and they are here
A fire engine filled  up with Kentish beer
A ladder  for the ladies to climb down
Now they are just women on the town

London won’t exist ,destroyed by cars
Angry men who cannot find a bar

The raspberry canes, the honesty know more

The empty canes of raspberries  hang low
Red maple leaves are mashed up in the mud
 Nature  seems to  hover by death’s door 

Animals and humans drained as whores
No feeling ,no  green sap,no  flowing blood
The crackling canes of raspberries hang low

What can we say un-cliched, metaphored?
At dawn the sun will  burn despite the Flood
Nature  did not force us through death’s door 

Can the death  of God    mean this and more,
Though love and hate are fractured, life is good?
The chuckling canes  the berries sang below

Can  a life  with heart not be restored?
End  retaliation,   understand
Nature  did not wave us through  the door 

At the edge of Europe  are no hordes
Jesus is  more small  than any  bud
The crackling canes stored laughter in their cores

The remnants of the foxgloves in the wood
Wave politely . even seem to nod
The raspberry canes, the honesty know more
Nature ,light and darkness, affect stored

 

Why write poetry?

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3 Reasons You Should Write Poetry Today

Extract

The greatest reason to write poetry is because it will make all of your writing better. I promise you.

Poetry gives you a deeper understanding of the language and it allows you to see your writing differently. Poetry enables you to express yourself and your ideas better.

Take Shakespeare for example.

Shakespeare began his career as an actor and a playwright. In the middle of his career, in 1593 & 1594, the theaters were closed due to the plague. During that time, Shakespeare began to publish poetry.

After these two years, Shakespeare went back to writing plays again, but something had changed.

Previously, Shakespeare had written mainly comedies and histories. After taking the time to write poetry, he wrote dramas and tragedies, like Romeo and Juliet and Macbeth. These later works are considered some of the finest works in the English language.

All heart

The slanted beauty of the winter light
On people walking by , their shadows long
The day of beauty and the deep, dark night

The gift of gladness and of our  own sight
Be your weakness, then you  might be strong
The slanted beauty of the winter light

Do not let your mouth with sarcasm bite
Pause before you act or write or fling
On days of beauty and their still, dark nights

Free like colour runs  when wet  yet bright 
Translucence of  love’s  eye can make one sing
Of slanted beauty  in  the winter light

 This  is just one day, and yet  Good might
Be here and now, eternal in our songs
On days of beauty and their too dark nights

The one we love must speak in their own tongue
Truth  will stand and with it we belong
Oh slanted beauty and your winter light
You make the day  all heart, bring long sweet nights

 

 

 

A dinghy holds the Saviour

Snow clouds hang  like   canopies forlorn,
Tinged with grey from lack of proper care,
While from the Channel sing the dread foghorns

Sailors in  the night  long for  new  dawn
Fear  boats of refugees may still sail there
Snow clouds hang  like   canopies well torn

A dinghy  holds the Saviour  lately born
There is no space on earth safe  from  great fear
From the Channel sigh the  families   drowned

From maternal’ space, Jesu  is torn
His father holds his arms  around  those dear
Snow clouds hang, are  lacy wings  no more

The hearts of  British ” natives”  have turned sour
Into Jesu’s side we thrust  our spears
Tune the channel.Requiems need scores

All  lives now, and all of time is here
Do not  mistake the song of silent choirs.
Snow clouds hang  like   canopies forlorn,
While in the Channel,  stuttering are the horns

 

The crows caw at half mast

We drove across the Pennines  East to West
Hoping to extend our  holiday
Snow fell down till once black  crags were dressed

Imagination should foresee such tests
Fierce as polar storms ,as mad as prayer
w drove  across the Pennines East to West

We passed through Bakewell did not stop to rest
Buxton was far worse with snow like may
Snow fell strongly ,oh wild crags were dressed

See these visions, travel if you must
See the sea freeze .see ice in Lyme Bay
We drove  across Great Britain East to West

Now it’s North to South as Brexit asked
Hear the people swear and curse and bray
Snow fell till the people  lost all zest

Now my love has gone, the car’s not here
Crushed to a flat metal I can’t steer
We drove across the Pennines  and we laughed
The sheep stared out, the crows cawed at half mast

 

 

 

 

 

No purpose, no desire

How can I judge you when I do not know
The river of your heart, it’s undertow
Forgetting  the wide looking that we need
Too attentive  to the goals of speed

I may   compare you to another friend
And in comparison, our love   might end
I may not take you in as one  true whole
How little do we look,  ensnared by goals?

When attention lapses and we  dream
We may see our soul and  its true themes
Too sharp a focus makes our mind compress
Our narrowed eyes  untrue to second guess

With my whole body I  perceive the  true
No purpose , no desire,  nothing  but you.

Without  our love  we give  but our own weeds

How do we know what topic will intrigue,
That draws the mind away from mundane tasks
 What will be fertile like a bursting seed?

What kind of  poetry do folk want to read ?
Must it tell or do  they have to ask?
How do we know what subjects will intrigue?

Emotions  run like water,with no heed
Floods of feeling  overwhelm defence;
Destroy  the berries and the bursting seeds

Strength is  torment, Stalingrad besieged
Rare will we find love without  these risks
We  already know what sense intrigues

The walls break down, the colder water  leads
Who foresaw the Flood and   its dark past?
This drives all away  both raw and seed

The  hand of God, the might, the holy fist
Kneel  before the  the humble,give them rest
We must know while   learning might intrigue
Without  our love  we give  but our own weeds

He’ll see you in your grave

 


The doctor says  he’ll see you in   your grave.
Will he bring binoculars and stare
God,help us all,I hope that no-one waves


They’ll say just what they want,  and how suave
He and the new trainee are a  pair
The doctor says  he’ll see you in   your grave.

Did he mean in ,to, I’m quasi dazed
I think his treatment of  my lip unfair
God,help us all,I hope that  that ghosts won’t wave

Well we’ll have to  do whatever will erase
The memories of Britain  when she dared
The doctor says  he’ll see you in   your grave.

I’ll go to  visit Plato in a  cave 
The people here will find out  how they’ll fare
God,help us all,I hope that  that ghosts don’t wave

In England it is very rude to stir
The poison of our words  till hate is bared
The doctor says  he’ll see you in   your grave.
God,help us all,I hope that he won’t wave

The radio was wireless

I listened to  no Carols on TV
The radio was wireless I believe
I  ate no Christmas Pudding but drank tea

I’d love to walk on shingle by the sea
Then eat a meal while deep in reverie
I listened to  no Carols on TV

I love only people who love me
Wherever have such notions been conceived ?
I  ate no Christmas Pudding but drank tea

I’d like a man of war to conquer me
We’d  go to bed where  love can be believed
I listened to  no Carols on TV

I must confess I have a Xmas tree
I want my husband’s ghost to relieve me
I  ate no Christmas Pudding but drank tea

I cannot be unfaithful to  green leaves
However much sweet flowers have achieved
I listened to  no Carols on TV
I  ate no Christmas Pudding, God bless thee

 

Grave the undertones  

I ran behind you but the hills were steep
I was frightened, left  behind alone
Now you go ahead into your sleep

Can’t you ever wait, so we could meet
Without you teasing me with  broken bones?
 I ran behind you but the hills were steep

Not held back  by fog or  frost  or sleet
Now you are a husk, where is your home?
 Oh,  must you  go ahead into dark sleep?

You were King , the girls and  boys all leaped
You would not let me use the gramophone
 I  tried  to  meet you,fear and love I keep.

The green sap rose, adventure was the key
Now we’re old so grave the undertones
 Might I murmur while you sink to  sleep?

Let  your hands stretch backward as you go
Before you’re in the earth so bitter,cold
I  passed you as I entered into speech
Yet still you  go ahead  my words can’t reach

 

 

 

 

Meet a few pals

 

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He kept his tongue in his cheek too long so he couldn’t eat
Starved to death

She  had her head screwed on the wrong way
Lack of light

He  had a cat which slept on the stairs
Fell over it and hit his head on a pile of wood
Killed by kindness and poor housekeeping

He wouldn’t wear his glasses so fell down a well
Unconscious suicide or vanity led to error

She wore shoes that were too small and died of untreated corns
Died of  trivial errors

His brain got stuck on the underground as his head fell off his body.
The glueless disease

She wore a yellow bikini on the beach which attracted a lot of wasps
Need I say more?
Died fighting as men wept

She was baking bread but got into the oven and was roasted with a potato
Bad luck.Only do one thing at a time
Died of hyperactivity and lack of concentration

He was writing a blog post and got sad as it seemed too poor
Then he drowned his sorrows [ and himself]
Moral: meet a few pals on their blogs

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  sun  drops  low and darkest night  rolls in
But now , new stricken by   a dread of sin
Who shall aid  the soul’s   derision?
Our  ancient minds fear   day won’t come again
When  we sleep we’e entertained within
Deft dreams squander all   illusion
When  sun  drops  low and dreaming night  rolls in
In reverie we’re loved  and  so  begin
Our  fancy turns to full communion
While ancient minds fear   day won’t come again
And so  it was that our own life began
When sperm leaped up in  proud confusion.
When  deep sun  dropped and  a   new night  rolled in
When  ancient  folk cried  “Day  shall come again”