The thinner branches wave like fragile grass
Bewildered by the wind so strong and cold
Like prisoners suffering from a cruel lash
The cat walks by ,the little hedgehogs pass
So in my winter coat I could be bold The thinner branches wave like fragile grass
If only winter travelled very fast
But time is needed for the seeds to grow As humble as a snail on its own path
We humans too need silence without rush
We must earn the holiness of slow While thinner trees still wave like fragile grass
In the soil, the worms pursue their tasks
Eternities of beetles move below Humble as the snails on their own path
Why we’re here this day we cannot know
Our souls soak in the silent world below
The thinner branches wave like fragile grass
We’re not gods. we suffer from the lash
The roses by your gate Revealed my sweet fate: That I would love you in summertime, That my poetry would always rhyme, That a dream of petals falling from above Would drench us both with sunshine’s golden love; That we would fall into deep grassy meadows Full of daisies,lie on our backs.Swallows Darting across the sky would see Our shapes intertwined with bright buttercups. Who knows when love will erupt And carry us on its flowing waters To places unreachable in summer saunters? Into the eye of love itself
Once you drove me out to that old Farm Before the Crab had caught us in its claws We saw late roses on the ancient barn
We saw cars faraway like ants that swarm Late October, nature takes a pause Once you drove me out to that old Farm
What are the new lessons I have learned? That cancer changes lives,oh, what we saw The late, late roses on the ancient barn
Grace is freely give, it is not earned The fingers of the clock move with time’s laws Once you drove me out to that old Farm
Take what’s offered, even though you yearn For other people, love, and holy awe Become the late rose on this ancient barn
As we wander here, no doubts can gnaw Nor the tiger slash us with his claws Love once took us out to that old Farm We worshipped roses on the ancient barn
Trying to solve old problems bothers me When I’m feeling weak or undermined As if I could rewrite my history
The past is never dead, but leave it be Or with present troubles it combines Trying to solve old problems upsets me
In the trees I find tranquility As they give up so let our human minds We cannot rewrite all our history
Restrain temptation , drop hostility Use the fire of anger to refine The soul and heart and problems none can see
The Holy One remembers all we’ve been Aids the poor as to them we are blind Be silent hearing love’s new mysteries
Then having no real truth to cleanse our mind We hope and long for patient, thoughtful times Trying to solve old problems wastes our lives Time gives new perspectives, we revive
Mary went to the hospital to see the rheumatologist.The entire hospital had been re-built and half the site was full of so called “Executive Homes” She and Annie took a cab as it was raining hard.Although Mary was wearing her new green raincoat, she did not like to get it wet. Where did you buy your mac,Annie enquired jauntily? Cotton Traders,Mary admitted nervously.It looked lighter than it is and Stan liked me in green You already have two trenchoats and a nylon mac,Annie told her.} And Stan is no longer here What’s it to you?Do you want me to give all my money to the poor? Well, some of it,Annie responded anxiously.You need to pay your utilities.
My utilities!That sounds like something sexual that cannot be openly named,Mary cried You are confusing it with urethra, Annie laughed What is my ethra? whispered Mary No, the urethra is a little tube for the bladder to empty itself through Isn’t the human body amazing? Mary acknowledged using a cliche for better effect Definitely, said Annie and I love wearing beautiful clothes like velvet Where do we draw the line though, between looking good and giving money to the poor, tortured or victimised,Mary pondered
It is hard now because we can see what the rich have and we want it.Annie shouted calmly Or in your case you can see all those philosophy books on Amazon and buy them with one click she continued. Mary could see in her mind’s eye her living room piled high with books but if she were rich like Michael Frayn she could have a huge house full of shelves and desks. Adam Phillips,’ room looked more full than Mary’s and he must want it like that
In the waiting room Mary looked at Wittgenstein’s biography by Ray Monk on her kindle while Annie read The Sun.Soon Mary was called in Hello, said Doctor Morse.How are you? In the pink , she cried shyly.I don’t understand that, he said in his kindly way It’s an old English saying.It means I feel fine, but I don’t really that’s why I am here He looked at her left hand. and said there was no cartilege between the the thumb and wrist. Where has it gone,Mary asked but he remained silent Then he said,I think steroid injections will help.Would you turn your chair round by 180 degrees so you can put your arm on my desk? Mary turned round and felt a bit dizzy It’s hard getting older isn’t it, the doctor said in a tone rather artificially kind like a bad actor on stage and afraid of forgetting his lines or whether he was in King Lear or a Comedy Mary burst out laughing to her surprise. You are a weird person, the told her thoughtfully with his glowing eyes shining like the sun over Lake Windermere in October. Well, we can’t all be exactly the same ,she told him logically Then she had to turn her chair round again. despite her poor hands Why don’t you have swivelling chairs ,she asked pointedly They won’t give me enough money, they doctor said even though I a Consultant and I have published lots of papers Can’t you buy a second handchair? Mary wondered No, it has to pass Health and Safety,Dr Morse whispered cautiously I see.Well don’t blame it all on the EU. I love the EU, he told her.I hope Brexit fails Me too she croaked sweetly They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes until his next patient arrived I will see you in September, he told her optimistically his smile making her giggle inside so her body shivered with repressed laughter not fear
Miaow, cried Emile from Mary’s designer handbag What in Gd’s name is that, the doctor asked nervously
Don’t worry doctor.I forgot to leave Emile in the Waiting Room Emile stuck out his head and smiled at Dr Morse Good morning, he said graciously.Is Dave the paramedic here? No, they are not here they have their own Ambulance Station down the road Emile began to sob as he liked to get his own way by any means he could Mary apologised as she shook hands with the doctor. Thank you for helping me, she murmured.I feel better already And so say all of us
While the priest annointed him with oils I played in the gutter all alone I hoped to find the marbles we had lost Or from the melted tar to pluck a stone
The summer was so hot the cobbles baked Looking like a row of fresh made loaves There were no fishes in the millstreams rush Nor a place where bread and Saviour rose
I found a florin in the cobbled street I found two marbles lying near a grid I found a daisy squashed in a wide crack I saw a spider hanged in its own web
To summarise ,my father went away The Queen was crowned and we just had to play
The thesis borrows Leon’s idiosyncratic use of a distinction between “egoism,” which is a matter of desiring things, and “egotism,” which involves desiring superiority to other people. Though Rawls defines sin as the repudiation of others—a refusal of the central ethical task of encountering others in Christian love—he treats egotism as the main source of sin. It is not our desire for material things but our wish for superiority to other “people that is the main threat to proper relationships with one another and so with God
The spaces in between the words make time To and fro like waves on the sea shore The feeling is the space between the lines Why is there desire for many rhymes? The spaces in between the words mark time The up and down like music well designed The abyss may open when we can’t endure The spaces in between the words become malign Our lives are tossed up on a darkening shore
We are little leaves upon the tree
We never did control our tiny worlds
The tree of life; what power,what mystery
With metaphor,it’s easier to see
Life is tender,see each leaf unfurl
We are only leaves upon the tree
Singing in the sun we seem to be
Full of joy until the storm winds swirl
The tree of life;what power, what mystery
Extinguished candles smoke at Tenebrae
We are blown to death however bold
We are little leaves upon the tree
Thus we sacrifice to God discourteously
Yet as the wars continue, we grow cold
The tree of life;what power,what mystery
Who has dropped us from the hands that hold?
Who has stolen certainty untold?
We are little leaves upon the tree
The tree of life; what power,what history.
Those who think they’re sinless,sin the most Be humble self, we are not human gods If pride’s the source of evil. who should boast?
We are human, not the heavenly host We will sin with knowledge and with blood Those who think they’re sinless,sin the most
Trust in God and on his grace we float Being neither demon nor all good If pride’s the source of evil. who can boast?
In another’s eye seek not the mote Did not God die on a cross of wood? Those who think they’re judges,sin the most
Yet gazing inward triggers over-thought We should not aim so high but call on God If pride’s the source of evil. who can boast?
No more the dreadful judge with heavy rod Instead a Jew we murdered while he loved Those who think they’re sinless,sin the most If pride’s the source of evil. why the boasts?
I still do not believe that you have gone I wait is silence for the word of man But deadly rings the knell, an answerphone I still cannot endure that you have gone Now, in pain, I rage against the storm In the wars of life we cannot win I still do not accept that you have gone I wait is silence for a word to come
How to marry an ass How to faint on glass How to Honister Pass How to sign the cross How to eat and fast How to polish grass How to eat lip gloss How to type on moss How to weep and toss How to call a hearse How to write much worse How to stir a curse How to be the last
How to lie and burst
How to win my trust
Halfway lost,my love combined with dread I could not sustain life, yet feared his death He fell, I could not raise him to his bed Halfway lost,my love was nearer dread I covered his cold body with a spread For three hours he lay like frozen breath At great cost,my love held his deep dread I could just sustain life ,yet near preyed death
The little words invented as we loved Now have no other speaker but myself. Lost, unique,my husband, my beloved, These special words delighted us in love . In my speech , these words no longer live I cannot use them, spend our loving wealth. The chosen words invented as we loved Now have no other listener but myself
So it may be that having a little bit of mess around reminds us that the world is not an ordered and structured thing, but something that contains chaos and unknowns. This jumpstarts our brains into creativity mode and makes us remember that it is OK to be a little bit unconventional and think creatively.
This should show you that you shouldn’t really care too much about tidying your desk, your office, or your room and instead see if there is any creative inspiration there. Whereas being nice and neat and tidy is a good idea for some things – you probably wouldn’t want to have surgery in an operating room with instruments strewn about – for tasks that require significant creativity you should feel free to leave post-its everywhere, books open, and a coffee cup or two lying around.
Watch fifty channels on your TV screen Read the Sun and see a silver moon Knit yourself a hat with cashmere thread Take the milkman home and go to bed
Watch free videos, make a packaged cake Put your lover in your bed, it must be fate Change the sheets, I like them without lines Let your cat play house with porcupines
Visit Urgent Care in case you’re dead Ask them for another bleeding head Take tea while you’re there, it is not free Costa Coffee is the licensee
Adopt a cat and buy her lots of food Wait for her to mate and have a brood Get a parrot as a spy of sorts Do not tell your husband what you bought
Keep 4 boyfriends happy with your care Just pretend that you ‘re not ever there Keep them in compartments in your head Never take one near a double bed
Become transgender, wear a tie in bed Call them they , unless their name is Fred Kiss a couple, have a tin of beer Love is not another type of fear
Marry if you wish for we are free To tie ourselves in knots of misery. Have some kiddies, slap them very soon For it’s illegal in Dunfermline and Dunoon
Why not die a little now? See what grace is yours but don’t ask how Tell a lie or Dad will tan your hide He don’t love you nor your striped behind
Will we tell the truth, that Father’s dead
And Mother’s crazy,see where we’ve been led
Mary was going to the hospital wearing her new magenta padded coat and an orange felt hat just like the one her mother used to wear when she went to church, although her mother had never had an orange hat. It would have been considered very bad taste.And with magenta it would give some people migraine
In Mary’s hand was a long green handbag ; inside this lay her cat Emile.
He was very naughty because he wanted to come to the hospital with her. Emile being a cat will probably not be admitted into the waiting room if she mentioned it to anyone; however ,she was hoping he would keep still.
She did not want to let the cat out of the bag at the wrong moment ,especially when she was seeing a lady doctor.
But the staff are so busy they might not notice that he is a cat and before he knows what is happening he may be admitted to the hospital and left lying on a trolley in a corridor for 25 hours.
Unlike a human being, Emile is not very patient and he will certainly not lie prone on a trolley all night waiting for the kindness of strangers. As a matter of fact he speaks good English and could easily hold his own in a male ward. Nowadays many of the wards are mixed and would you want to wake up in the morning next to a Tom Cat. That would certainly hit the headlines . Woman kept for 20 hours on a trolley in a mixed corridor next to a tom cat!At least he is neither a lion nor a lamb.
BTW Theresa May our ex PM asked corridors to be relabelled as wards and bathrooms to be labelled as,
Wards for one with ensuite. Where will all the other patients be able to relieve themselves…? Maybe a bucket will serve or if we can walk we can go outside looking for a bush Let’s pray it is not burning.I don’t want to damage the Holy by passing water by it.
Though it is only humans who think excretion is bad
We would die without it
And why is Mary at the hospital again?Is it the Vulva Clinic, the Rheumatology or may be Psychiatric Unit where she may get help
The first step will be to give her a book about colour and tell her to get a hat in amore flattering one.Orange hats have never been popular with men.Blue might suit
And so say all of us Mioaw ,says Emile.He likes hats
Why did Jesus walk across the road?
Copyright 2013
I wish I’d kept that jacket
How to marry an ass
How my heart speaks 